What do you think?
Rate this book
Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew
The disciplines of theology and biblical studies should serve each other, and they should serve both the church and the academy together. But the relationship between them is often marked by misunderstandings, methodological differences, and cross-discipline tension. Theologian Hans Boersma here highlights five things he wishes biblical scholars knew about theology. In a companion volume, biblical scholar Scot McKnight reflects on five things he wishes theologians knew about biblical studies. With an irenic spirit as well as honesty about differences that remain, Boersma and McKnight seek to foster understanding between their disciplines through these books so they might once again collaborate with one another.
176 pages, Paperback
First published September 7, 2021
12 people are currently reading
198 people want to read
About the author
Hans Boersma
31 books95 followersI serve in the Saint Benedict Servants of Christ Chair in Ascetical Theology at Nashotah House in Wisconsin—a community of formation marked by the fullness of Anglican faith and practice, Benedictine spirituality, and classical Christian thought and teaching. (If you’re interested in studying at Nashotah House, contact me: hboersma@nashotah.edu). I am a Priest in the Anglican Church in North America (ACNA).
Before coming to Nashotah House in 2019, I taught for fourteen years at Regent College in Vancouver, BC and for six years at Trinity Western University in Langley, BC. I also served several years as a pastor in a Reformed church. I grew up in the Netherlands and have been in Canada since 1983.
My interests range across a variety of areas: patristic theology, twentieth-century Catholic thought, and spiritual interpretation of Scripture. In each of these areas, I am driven by a desire to retrieve the ‘sacramental ontology’ of the pre-modern tradition. So, much of my work looks to the past in hopes of recovering a sacramental mindset. I suppose this makes me a ressourcement (retrieval) theologian of sorts. Retrieval of the Great Tradition’s sacramental ontology has been at the heart of almost all my publications over the past twenty years or so.
Before coming to Nashotah House in 2019, I taught for fourteen years at Regent College in Vancouver, BC and for six years at Trinity Western University in Langley, BC. I also served several years as a pastor in a Reformed church. I grew up in the Netherlands and have been in Canada since 1983.
My interests range across a variety of areas: patristic theology, twentieth-century Catholic thought, and spiritual interpretation of Scripture. In each of these areas, I am driven by a desire to retrieve the ‘sacramental ontology’ of the pre-modern tradition. So, much of my work looks to the past in hopes of recovering a sacramental mindset. I suppose this makes me a ressourcement (retrieval) theologian of sorts. Retrieval of the Great Tradition’s sacramental ontology has been at the heart of almost all my publications over the past twenty years or so.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 39 reviews
May 5, 2021
I loved this book, however, full disclosure, I do have a degree in theology so a lot of this book was just me going “yup, definitely” and “oh gosh, that’s just what I felt/have wanted to say”, because though I agree with Boersma that the distinction between the disciplines of theology and biblical scholarship is not as rigid as it seems, or sometimes appears as, there is definitely a distinction. He addresses some of the elements very well in this book and helped me pinpoint why I as a student, when I took courses that leaned toward the biblical often found it a pretty jarring experience. The only thing I can compare it to is the experience of going from a philosophy class to one on the history of ideas. Very different experience.
To be honest, though I loved this book, I am looking forward to reading the second book a bit more, I.e. the one where the roles are reversed and biblical scholars tell theologians five things they wish they knew, because I have a feeling that is where I might really learn something new. Maybe. Or at least open my mind to another perspective, which is good.
This book is divided into five chapters with somewhat provocative titles centered around a main theme, there is “No Christ, no Scripture”; “No Plato, no Scripture”; “No Providence, no Scripture”; “No Church, no Scripture”; and “No Heaven, no Scripture”.
My personal favorites were chapters 2 and 4 which dealt with metaphysics and the Church, though they were all deeply engaged in patristics which I really appreciated. It also engaged very delicately with these matters, pressing why certain things were, or have become, an issue in biblical scholarship (from a theological perspective) and how it has lost an otherworldliness and shifted towards a too dominant this-worldly focus, a focus that isn’t inherently bad but that has unintended consequences and makes the field seem a bit lost in its direction and purpose.
I made so many bookmarks reading this and I can’t wait to get my hands of a physical copy, because with books like this I really need them in my hand and where I can make notes and underline and think (my apologies to book purists). Once I do, and the book is released in its final form, I will probably add to this lengthy review with some specifics because I would also like to contemplate it in comparison with the second book, mentioned above, in order to consider my own biases towards Boersma’s perspective,
Now, who is this book for?
The title made me think it was primarily for academics invested in this field, after reading it I must say that it can definitely have a broader appeal - a) it is short and the structure accessible, b) it is not bogged down by footnotes, though there are some, c) there is jargon but it is generally explained in an accessible manner (not like some books I have where you will have to have a basic reading comprehension of Greek, Latin, or German, to get through it) though I may be a poor judge here.
But for the uninitiated reader who wonders what these disciplines do differently, this is a good read to try to get into it. But maybe that is just me hoping it will open more eyes to the likes of Gregory of Nyssa, Irenaeus, Origen, Athanasius, etc
A thousand thanks to InterVarsity Press and NetGalley for this pre-release copy, can’t believe I have to wait till September for the print *makes note to remember this* but I look forward to it!
To be honest, though I loved this book, I am looking forward to reading the second book a bit more, I.e. the one where the roles are reversed and biblical scholars tell theologians five things they wish they knew, because I have a feeling that is where I might really learn something new. Maybe. Or at least open my mind to another perspective, which is good.
This book is divided into five chapters with somewhat provocative titles centered around a main theme, there is “No Christ, no Scripture”; “No Plato, no Scripture”; “No Providence, no Scripture”; “No Church, no Scripture”; and “No Heaven, no Scripture”.
My personal favorites were chapters 2 and 4 which dealt with metaphysics and the Church, though they were all deeply engaged in patristics which I really appreciated. It also engaged very delicately with these matters, pressing why certain things were, or have become, an issue in biblical scholarship (from a theological perspective) and how it has lost an otherworldliness and shifted towards a too dominant this-worldly focus, a focus that isn’t inherently bad but that has unintended consequences and makes the field seem a bit lost in its direction and purpose.
I made so many bookmarks reading this and I can’t wait to get my hands of a physical copy, because with books like this I really need them in my hand and where I can make notes and underline and think (my apologies to book purists). Once I do, and the book is released in its final form, I will probably add to this lengthy review with some specifics because I would also like to contemplate it in comparison with the second book, mentioned above, in order to consider my own biases towards Boersma’s perspective,
Now, who is this book for?
The title made me think it was primarily for academics invested in this field, after reading it I must say that it can definitely have a broader appeal - a) it is short and the structure accessible, b) it is not bogged down by footnotes, though there are some, c) there is jargon but it is generally explained in an accessible manner (not like some books I have where you will have to have a basic reading comprehension of Greek, Latin, or German, to get through it) though I may be a poor judge here.
But for the uninitiated reader who wonders what these disciplines do differently, this is a good read to try to get into it. But maybe that is just me hoping it will open more eyes to the likes of Gregory of Nyssa, Irenaeus, Origen, Athanasius, etc
A thousand thanks to InterVarsity Press and NetGalley for this pre-release copy, can’t believe I have to wait till September for the print *makes note to remember this* but I look forward to it!
January 4, 2022
Boersma, Hans. Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsityPress, 2021.
The idea behind this book is good; the book not so much. Boersma is correct that no one approaches the text without a commitment to metaphysics. Moreoever, we can only smile with amusement when someone says, “If you would just stay committed to the Bible,” presumably you would believe as I do. Unfortunately, much of Boersma’s discussion trades on ambiguities and straw men. To be sure, the book does have a few good chapters, namely the ones on metaphysics and heaven. The chapters are something like: No Plato, No Christ; No Plato, No Scripture; No Plato, no metaphysics; No Providence, no Scripture; No Heaven, No Scripture.
The Good
We can’t simply appeal to “the bible” qua bible. We all come with metaphysics.
If Christ is present in the Old Testament, then some form of a sensus plenior obtains. That seems to be unavoidable.
He has a good section on Athanasius. However, Boersma doesn’t realize that Athanasius’s Christology undercuts Plato’s cosmology. If the Son is fully God, then we don’t have a Demiurge creating the world.
Excellent chapter on metaphysics. His argument, though, might be inadequate. Key to the Platonic framework is the idea of “participation.” What does that actually mean? I’m not sure. Boersma neer defines it. Aristotle, too, pointed out that ambiguity in Plato. Once you get past his annoying habit of using “platonism” simply to mean “Augustine” and “realism.” Identifies 5 aspects of Ur-Platonism: 1) anti-materialism, 2) anti-mechanism, 3) anti-nominalism; 4) Anti-relativism, and 5) Anti-skepticism. On one hand this sounds like basic Christian wisdom. True, you find all of this in one form or another in Plato’s dialogues. But must it be called Platonism?
In a throwaway line that must have had the Revoice guys in mind, Boersma (rightly) says our primary identity is in Christ, not in some made-up social identity (which also applies, mutatis mutandis, to other post-Marxist constructs).
Excellent chapter on heaven. He puts a halt on many silly “anti-imperial” readings. He notes that their (often shrill) us vs. them rhetoric is the very violence they seek to oppose. In fact, he specifically calls out left-wing agendas, noting they treat sin and redemption in this worldly structures.
The Bad
We’ll start with the most obvious problem: allegory. Boersma’s section on typology was actually good. Unfortunately, he doesn’t like the contrast b/t typology and allegory. What matters for him is allegory. Here is one problem: why even bother w/the original languages and the Hebrew-ness of Israel if the text is allegorical? All that matters is the “deeper meaning.” This is the fatal flaw in all allegorical schemes. Following upon that point, what criteria does Boersma have for saying “this deeper reading” is wrong while the other one is correct?
He claimed Charles Hodge was a nominalist. Boersma said Nevin chose Plato and the Great Tradition while Hodge chose Francis Bacon. This is bad. Nevin chose German Idealism, not Plato.
Boersma never defines biblical theology. At times it means “bad academics” and at other times it means “sola scriptura.” Even worse, he never defines sola scriptura.
Very little of Israel’s story is connected with Plato. There is nothing Platonic about the Exodus, the Temple, or the Atonement. There is also nothing Platonic about the New Jerusalem descending to earth.
I can recommend other books by Boersma. I cannot recommend this one.
The idea behind this book is good; the book not so much. Boersma is correct that no one approaches the text without a commitment to metaphysics. Moreoever, we can only smile with amusement when someone says, “If you would just stay committed to the Bible,” presumably you would believe as I do. Unfortunately, much of Boersma’s discussion trades on ambiguities and straw men. To be sure, the book does have a few good chapters, namely the ones on metaphysics and heaven. The chapters are something like: No Plato, No Christ; No Plato, No Scripture; No Plato, no metaphysics; No Providence, no Scripture; No Heaven, No Scripture.
The Good
We can’t simply appeal to “the bible” qua bible. We all come with metaphysics.
If Christ is present in the Old Testament, then some form of a sensus plenior obtains. That seems to be unavoidable.
He has a good section on Athanasius. However, Boersma doesn’t realize that Athanasius’s Christology undercuts Plato’s cosmology. If the Son is fully God, then we don’t have a Demiurge creating the world.
Excellent chapter on metaphysics. His argument, though, might be inadequate. Key to the Platonic framework is the idea of “participation.” What does that actually mean? I’m not sure. Boersma neer defines it. Aristotle, too, pointed out that ambiguity in Plato. Once you get past his annoying habit of using “platonism” simply to mean “Augustine” and “realism.” Identifies 5 aspects of Ur-Platonism: 1) anti-materialism, 2) anti-mechanism, 3) anti-nominalism; 4) Anti-relativism, and 5) Anti-skepticism. On one hand this sounds like basic Christian wisdom. True, you find all of this in one form or another in Plato’s dialogues. But must it be called Platonism?
In a throwaway line that must have had the Revoice guys in mind, Boersma (rightly) says our primary identity is in Christ, not in some made-up social identity (which also applies, mutatis mutandis, to other post-Marxist constructs).
Excellent chapter on heaven. He puts a halt on many silly “anti-imperial” readings. He notes that their (often shrill) us vs. them rhetoric is the very violence they seek to oppose. In fact, he specifically calls out left-wing agendas, noting they treat sin and redemption in this worldly structures.
The Bad
We’ll start with the most obvious problem: allegory. Boersma’s section on typology was actually good. Unfortunately, he doesn’t like the contrast b/t typology and allegory. What matters for him is allegory. Here is one problem: why even bother w/the original languages and the Hebrew-ness of Israel if the text is allegorical? All that matters is the “deeper meaning.” This is the fatal flaw in all allegorical schemes. Following upon that point, what criteria does Boersma have for saying “this deeper reading” is wrong while the other one is correct?
He claimed Charles Hodge was a nominalist. Boersma said Nevin chose Plato and the Great Tradition while Hodge chose Francis Bacon. This is bad. Nevin chose German Idealism, not Plato.
Boersma never defines biblical theology. At times it means “bad academics” and at other times it means “sola scriptura.” Even worse, he never defines sola scriptura.
Very little of Israel’s story is connected with Plato. There is nothing Platonic about the Exodus, the Temple, or the Atonement. There is also nothing Platonic about the New Jerusalem descending to earth.
I can recommend other books by Boersma. I cannot recommend this one.
December 23, 2021
Have you ever listened in on a conversation with two people who were definitely smarter than you? Like, you were smart enough to follow the conversation and understand most of what was being said, but in no way were you prepared to interject yourself into the conversation at all? That’s how I felt through most of the Five Things duology by Scot McKnight and Hans Boersma. The series is written from one profession to the other, with the goal of the two interconnected but often disparate fields finding common ground and learning from the other.
McKnight pens Five Things Biblical Scholars Wish Theologians Knew while Boersma pens the opposite Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew. This a bold project because it’s very much within a niche. One side is obviously writing to biblical scholars. The other side is obviously writing to theologians. And if you’re outside those camps, you’re really just a third-party looking in. But as an interested third-party, let me say that I came away from these books with a greater understanding of each profession, how they differ, and how they can supplement and support the other.
First off, I should probably define the difference between the biblical scholar and the theologian. Frankly, if you don’t already know the difference, this may not be the volume for you, but if you’ve stumbled across this review for some reason and don’t know the difference, I’ll break it down for you. A theologian is one who studies God. A biblical scholar is one who studies the Bible, or rather, a portion of it. As such, biblical scholarship is much narrower than theology and also not limited to theology. Conversely, theology is not limited to the revelation of God in the Bible and it is much more expansive than biblical scholarship.
The five things that Boersma wants his biblical scholar friends to know are:
1. No Christ, no Scripture. While McKnight started his points with the need to ground theology in Scripture, Boersma layers it one deeper with the reminder that Scripture must be grounded in Christ. That is, Christ’s presence in Scripture is essential to Scripture’s authority. Biblical scholars can have the tendency to read and interpret their work like any other ancient literature, but Scripture is much more than that—it is the revelation of God.
2. No Plato, no Scripture. Here’s where Boersma loses me a bit. Not because he’s wrong, necessarily, that Christian Platonism is useful as an interpretive lens but it’s his insistence that it is needed. This is an especially sketchy argument given that so much of Scripture predates Plato and Hellenistic influence. It would make more sense to say that the New Testament or the church fathers cannot be divorced from a Platonian metaphysic—something Boersma capably defends—but to insist the Scripture needs a secular philosopher as an interpretive lens is a step too far. Perhaps a more general point that biblical scholars cannot divorce themselves from engaging in metaphysics when doing exegesis would have been a stronger argument.
3. No Providence, no Scripture. Somewhat related to his first point, Boersma states here that biblical scholars must understand God’s handiwork within Scripture. That is, Scripture and its narrative is not natural, but supernatural. This is an interesting point because, I think, theologians could use the same reminder from the other side, as they may tend to elevate the work of church fathers, councils, and theologians.
4. No Church, no Scripture. In what may be Boersma’s strongest point, he reminds biblical scholars that Scripture is given to an interpretive community—not academia, but the church. We should not be individualist or elitist in our exegesis, but understand that faith was meant for the common person and will have value for their lives. Tradition—liturgy and creeds—form a part of history of the interpretive community and are worth study.
5. No Heaven, no Scripture. Boersma’s final point is eschatological. He asks biblical scholars to remember that Scripture cannot be read apart from its spiritual end—the renewal of all things. While the point itself bears contemplation, Boersma uses it to take shots as liberation theology, social justice movements, and other interpretive lenses that focus on sanctification rather than glorification. Focusing on the present, Boersma fears, transforms the supernatural message of “all things new” and turns it into a secular message of liberation as interpreters lose their sense of “otherworldliness.” Ultimately, I’m not convinced that we cannot both have our cake and eat it too. Boersma seems to ignore the inbreaking of the Kingdom that happened in the Incarnation and the indwelling of the Spirit that leads us to live as ambassadors of Christ in this world now. While the point about having a focus on the eschaton is valid, there’s no need to wipe away the focus of liberation now.
If weighing the arguments between the two as a debate, McKnight would come away the winner. The focus on Platonian metaphysics and the dismissal of liberation as a theological theme in Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew end up as the weak points in the book, while the other three argument end up amounting to a remembrance to read the Bible contextually as both sacred and within a faith community. If Boersma was speaking solely to secular biblical scholars (such as Bart Ehrman, Gerd Ludemann, or Francesca Stavrakopoulou), these arguments might be stronger, but most biblical scholars—as part of a faith tradition—will take these points into consideration already. While I can appreciate Boersma’s arguments here, I think there were much more accessible and common flaws in biblical studies that would have made for stronger points in this book.
McKnight pens Five Things Biblical Scholars Wish Theologians Knew while Boersma pens the opposite Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew. This a bold project because it’s very much within a niche. One side is obviously writing to biblical scholars. The other side is obviously writing to theologians. And if you’re outside those camps, you’re really just a third-party looking in. But as an interested third-party, let me say that I came away from these books with a greater understanding of each profession, how they differ, and how they can supplement and support the other.
First off, I should probably define the difference between the biblical scholar and the theologian. Frankly, if you don’t already know the difference, this may not be the volume for you, but if you’ve stumbled across this review for some reason and don’t know the difference, I’ll break it down for you. A theologian is one who studies God. A biblical scholar is one who studies the Bible, or rather, a portion of it. As such, biblical scholarship is much narrower than theology and also not limited to theology. Conversely, theology is not limited to the revelation of God in the Bible and it is much more expansive than biblical scholarship.
The five things that Boersma wants his biblical scholar friends to know are:
1. No Christ, no Scripture. While McKnight started his points with the need to ground theology in Scripture, Boersma layers it one deeper with the reminder that Scripture must be grounded in Christ. That is, Christ’s presence in Scripture is essential to Scripture’s authority. Biblical scholars can have the tendency to read and interpret their work like any other ancient literature, but Scripture is much more than that—it is the revelation of God.
2. No Plato, no Scripture. Here’s where Boersma loses me a bit. Not because he’s wrong, necessarily, that Christian Platonism is useful as an interpretive lens but it’s his insistence that it is needed. This is an especially sketchy argument given that so much of Scripture predates Plato and Hellenistic influence. It would make more sense to say that the New Testament or the church fathers cannot be divorced from a Platonian metaphysic—something Boersma capably defends—but to insist the Scripture needs a secular philosopher as an interpretive lens is a step too far. Perhaps a more general point that biblical scholars cannot divorce themselves from engaging in metaphysics when doing exegesis would have been a stronger argument.
3. No Providence, no Scripture. Somewhat related to his first point, Boersma states here that biblical scholars must understand God’s handiwork within Scripture. That is, Scripture and its narrative is not natural, but supernatural. This is an interesting point because, I think, theologians could use the same reminder from the other side, as they may tend to elevate the work of church fathers, councils, and theologians.
4. No Church, no Scripture. In what may be Boersma’s strongest point, he reminds biblical scholars that Scripture is given to an interpretive community—not academia, but the church. We should not be individualist or elitist in our exegesis, but understand that faith was meant for the common person and will have value for their lives. Tradition—liturgy and creeds—form a part of history of the interpretive community and are worth study.
5. No Heaven, no Scripture. Boersma’s final point is eschatological. He asks biblical scholars to remember that Scripture cannot be read apart from its spiritual end—the renewal of all things. While the point itself bears contemplation, Boersma uses it to take shots as liberation theology, social justice movements, and other interpretive lenses that focus on sanctification rather than glorification. Focusing on the present, Boersma fears, transforms the supernatural message of “all things new” and turns it into a secular message of liberation as interpreters lose their sense of “otherworldliness.” Ultimately, I’m not convinced that we cannot both have our cake and eat it too. Boersma seems to ignore the inbreaking of the Kingdom that happened in the Incarnation and the indwelling of the Spirit that leads us to live as ambassadors of Christ in this world now. While the point about having a focus on the eschaton is valid, there’s no need to wipe away the focus of liberation now.
If weighing the arguments between the two as a debate, McKnight would come away the winner. The focus on Platonian metaphysics and the dismissal of liberation as a theological theme in Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew end up as the weak points in the book, while the other three argument end up amounting to a remembrance to read the Bible contextually as both sacred and within a faith community. If Boersma was speaking solely to secular biblical scholars (such as Bart Ehrman, Gerd Ludemann, or Francesca Stavrakopoulou), these arguments might be stronger, but most biblical scholars—as part of a faith tradition—will take these points into consideration already. While I can appreciate Boersma’s arguments here, I think there were much more accessible and common flaws in biblical studies that would have made for stronger points in this book.
March 29, 2022
Summary: In an effort to foster understanding between the two disciplines, a theologian outlines five areas for biblical scholars to understand about theology as it bears upon the Bible.
In the theological academy the study of scripture and theology are treated as two separate disciplines. Yet each depend crucially upon the other. Scripture sources our theological understanding while theological premises inform our reading of scripture. In this work, Hans Boersma approaches scripture sacramentally, as a means of grace, and not “as a mere repository of historical and doctrinal truths.” This leads Boersma to express his “five things” in the form “No______, No Scripture, devoting a chapter to each of these. Each of the five express theological realities that make possible the grace of scripture.
No Christ, No Scripture. Christ is the heart of scripture, the one to whom the scriptures point. Christ’s presence is essential to its authority. Boersma notes how historical-critical exegesis often brackets out Christ, and thus the one who speaks with authority through these texts.
No Plato, No Scripture. While not asserting that Plato has equivalent authority to Christ, Boersma argues that all approaches to scripture assume some form of metaphysic. If we attempt a pura scriptura approach, we will unconsciously import the prevailing metaphysic of our culture. Boersma asserts the essential character of Christian Platonism is due to its antimaterialism, antimechanism, antinominalism, antirelativism, and antiskepticism.
No Providence, No Scripture. Scripture is an expression of God’s providential care for us as his uniquely authoritative witness to Himself and to the blessed life in relation to Him. God has provided the words of scripture to make present the Word of God, the incarnate Son to us.
No Church, No Scripture. The church and not the theological academy is the primary center for the reading of scripture. This argues against individualist and elitist readings. This nourished by canonical, liturgical, and creedal reading. One of the most soaringly beautiful statements in the book is found where Boersma writes:
“We arrive at genuine Christian teaching only when we have been in the presence of angels and saints and the triune God himself. Only in the presence of divine light of the Spirit do the scriptures begin to make sense to us.”
BOERSMA, P. 107.
No Heaven, No Scripture. Finally, Boersma contends that biblical scholars cannot read scripture without considering its spiritual end, the heavenly contemplation of God in Christ. In this, he argues for the primacy of contemplation over action–that good action can only follow from contemplation. He also offers a trenchant critique of political readings of scripture that fail to originate in contemplation. Rather, he focuses on the cultivation of virtue in life as the fruit of contemplation.
Boersma’s sacramental approach is hardly generic evangelical theology but reflective of his Anglican tradition (he teaches theology at Nashotah House). Actually, this approach is a corrective to Enlightenment-influenced historical-critical exegesis that treats Holy Scripture as one more ancient text to be dissected. His Platonism comes as a surprise but challenges our presumption that we can come to scripture free of metaphysical premises. We cannot, so better to be explicit about them. More than this, his focus on Christ, on God’s providence, on reading with the church, and on the contemplation of heavenly realities all remind us of the joyous gift of scripture, which leads us to the Incarnate Word and His blessed eternal purposes of his people.
____________________________
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.
In the theological academy the study of scripture and theology are treated as two separate disciplines. Yet each depend crucially upon the other. Scripture sources our theological understanding while theological premises inform our reading of scripture. In this work, Hans Boersma approaches scripture sacramentally, as a means of grace, and not “as a mere repository of historical and doctrinal truths.” This leads Boersma to express his “five things” in the form “No______, No Scripture, devoting a chapter to each of these. Each of the five express theological realities that make possible the grace of scripture.
No Christ, No Scripture. Christ is the heart of scripture, the one to whom the scriptures point. Christ’s presence is essential to its authority. Boersma notes how historical-critical exegesis often brackets out Christ, and thus the one who speaks with authority through these texts.
No Plato, No Scripture. While not asserting that Plato has equivalent authority to Christ, Boersma argues that all approaches to scripture assume some form of metaphysic. If we attempt a pura scriptura approach, we will unconsciously import the prevailing metaphysic of our culture. Boersma asserts the essential character of Christian Platonism is due to its antimaterialism, antimechanism, antinominalism, antirelativism, and antiskepticism.
No Providence, No Scripture. Scripture is an expression of God’s providential care for us as his uniquely authoritative witness to Himself and to the blessed life in relation to Him. God has provided the words of scripture to make present the Word of God, the incarnate Son to us.
No Church, No Scripture. The church and not the theological academy is the primary center for the reading of scripture. This argues against individualist and elitist readings. This nourished by canonical, liturgical, and creedal reading. One of the most soaringly beautiful statements in the book is found where Boersma writes:
“We arrive at genuine Christian teaching only when we have been in the presence of angels and saints and the triune God himself. Only in the presence of divine light of the Spirit do the scriptures begin to make sense to us.”
BOERSMA, P. 107.
No Heaven, No Scripture. Finally, Boersma contends that biblical scholars cannot read scripture without considering its spiritual end, the heavenly contemplation of God in Christ. In this, he argues for the primacy of contemplation over action–that good action can only follow from contemplation. He also offers a trenchant critique of political readings of scripture that fail to originate in contemplation. Rather, he focuses on the cultivation of virtue in life as the fruit of contemplation.
Boersma’s sacramental approach is hardly generic evangelical theology but reflective of his Anglican tradition (he teaches theology at Nashotah House). Actually, this approach is a corrective to Enlightenment-influenced historical-critical exegesis that treats Holy Scripture as one more ancient text to be dissected. His Platonism comes as a surprise but challenges our presumption that we can come to scripture free of metaphysical premises. We cannot, so better to be explicit about them. More than this, his focus on Christ, on God’s providence, on reading with the church, and on the contemplation of heavenly realities all remind us of the joyous gift of scripture, which leads us to the Incarnate Word and His blessed eternal purposes of his people.
____________________________
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.
Read
March 9, 2023I don't think I can assign a star rating to this book because I haven't read enough theology books to know how it compares.
However, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I appreciated the clarity and conciseness of his method. He made his points clear at the beginning of the book and then in each chapter. In each chapter he then laid evidence for his points through drawing from other theologians and pulling them into respectful dialogue.
I read this more for the theology than for the discourse between theology and biblical scholarship, but I did think he presented his disagreements in charitable ways (respect).
It's the kind of book I might like to return to (at least sections of it) periodically. Recommend.
However, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I appreciated the clarity and conciseness of his method. He made his points clear at the beginning of the book and then in each chapter. In each chapter he then laid evidence for his points through drawing from other theologians and pulling them into respectful dialogue.
I read this more for the theology than for the discourse between theology and biblical scholarship, but I did think he presented his disagreements in charitable ways (respect).
It's the kind of book I might like to return to (at least sections of it) periodically. Recommend.
May 31, 2024
I appreciated his critiques of the historical critical method and the excesses of modern biblical studies, but sometimes his critiques were so broad I wasn't sure who was in mind. It seemed like some camps got unnecessarily implicated.
I don't understand his relationship with protestantism. He sees sola scriptura as problematic yet what he described is not a sola scriptura that the Reformers would recognize. Additionally, he argued that tradition preceded Scripture in the early church as if the Old Testament didn't exist and serve as the material for apostolic preaching.
He said sola fide is at odds with participation in Christ, which struck me as bizarre.
Maybe it's just me. Half the time I don't understand what he's talking about.
I don't understand his relationship with protestantism. He sees sola scriptura as problematic yet what he described is not a sola scriptura that the Reformers would recognize. Additionally, he argued that tradition preceded Scripture in the early church as if the Old Testament didn't exist and serve as the material for apostolic preaching.
He said sola fide is at odds with participation in Christ, which struck me as bizarre.
Maybe it's just me. Half the time I don't understand what he's talking about.
March 9, 2022
I think that this may be his clearest expression and defense of his sacramental scripture project.
October 14, 2024
I am dispositioned to sympathy with Boersma's fundamental outlook, and I admit that I read this work with a general willingness to accept his thesis from the outset. I deeply appreciated the a priori significance that he accords to the contemplation of Scripture (and thus of our Lord), over and against Scripture's "usefulness." In this he critiques both his own camp of "theologians proper" and many of the fundamental assumptions undergirding contemporary biblical scholarship mired in the immanence-only elements of the historical/grammatical approach to Scripture.
However, Boersma gives to the historical method its proper due and, I think, engages fruitfully with its concerns and its benefits without ceding worship of Jesus Christ as both the starting and ending point of all our engagements with Holy Scripture. For Boersma, action and ethics are indeed important, but they must proceed from our contemplation and our worship. Amen and amen.
However, Boersma gives to the historical method its proper due and, I think, engages fruitfully with its concerns and its benefits without ceding worship of Jesus Christ as both the starting and ending point of all our engagements with Holy Scripture. For Boersma, action and ethics are indeed important, but they must proceed from our contemplation and our worship. Amen and amen.
November 13, 2023
Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew is a book by Hans Boersma, a professor of theology at Nashotah House Theological Seminary. In this book, Boersma argues that biblical scholars often neglect the theological implications of their work and that they should pay more attention to the insights of the church fathers and the tradition of Christian interpretation. He also criticizes the historical-critical method of biblical scholarship, which he sees as too skeptical and naturalistic. He proposes a more sacramental approach to Scripture, which views the Bible as a means of encountering God's presence and grace.
Boersma's book is an attempt to bridge the gap between biblical studies and theology, (a divide I have often complained about!) but it also reveals his own bias and agenda. He seems to assume that his own theological perspective, which is influenced by Reformed and Anglican traditions, is normative and superior to other views. (I found this very frustrating!)
He also dismisses or ignores the contributions of modern biblical scholarship, especially from feminist, liberationist, and postcolonial perspectives. He does not engage with the diversity and complexity of the biblical texts but rather imposes his own theological framework on them. He also fails to acknowledge the historical and cultural contexts of both the biblical authors and the church fathers, and how they shaped their interpretations.
Boersma's book is not a fair or balanced assessment of biblical scholarship or theology in my opinion.
Boersma's book is an attempt to bridge the gap between biblical studies and theology, (a divide I have often complained about!) but it also reveals his own bias and agenda. He seems to assume that his own theological perspective, which is influenced by Reformed and Anglican traditions, is normative and superior to other views. (I found this very frustrating!)
He also dismisses or ignores the contributions of modern biblical scholarship, especially from feminist, liberationist, and postcolonial perspectives. He does not engage with the diversity and complexity of the biblical texts but rather imposes his own theological framework on them. He also fails to acknowledge the historical and cultural contexts of both the biblical authors and the church fathers, and how they shaped their interpretations.
Boersma's book is not a fair or balanced assessment of biblical scholarship or theology in my opinion.
June 1, 2024
I wish I read this years ago. Much of it captures what I've been trying to articulate for the past few years. The rest of it challenges me to continue in my journey. Some of it deeply troubles me.
March 23, 2022
Hans Boersma's book is a companion to the Scot McKnight volume "5 Things Biblical Scholars wish Theologians Knew." Here using the same formula of "5 Things" Boersma shares his heart for academics who study Bible. In short he wants us to remember that the scriptures come from the church and are for the church, not the academy. While there may be value in studying the historical meaning of the various books in the Canon, we can never forget the Bible is meant to form us into the likeness of Christ to the glory of the Father. No other purpose for them even comes close. We miss the purpose of scripture if we fixate on authorial intent and speak only of what God did in the past. God is always working and speaking to the present and while it is helpful to remember Paul's method and John's theology, the Bible is a unity, and a mystical unity at that. Boersma is not afraid to suggest methods like allegory and multiple meanings that pre-date the Enlightenment and have since been cast aside. For him the Bible is a sacrament and contemplating it is more important, and more central to finding meaning, than study alone.
McKnight and Boersma obviously have great respect for each other and both say things of value. But it seems to me that they are addressing slightly different audiences. McKnight wants to make sure that we center our application on the meaning of the text. It is authoritative and we must be careful not to make the Bible say whatever we want. McKnight knows how preachers and laypeople isolate texts and use them to serve personal agendas. Boersma is concerned about academics who have made themselves the only ones who can properly exegete meaning. They have taken the Bible out of the hands of church members and thus, out of the church. I can certainly see and agree with both books and see how each point made is a helpful corrective to a common misuse.
McKnight and Boersma obviously have great respect for each other and both say things of value. But it seems to me that they are addressing slightly different audiences. McKnight wants to make sure that we center our application on the meaning of the text. It is authoritative and we must be careful not to make the Bible say whatever we want. McKnight knows how preachers and laypeople isolate texts and use them to serve personal agendas. Boersma is concerned about academics who have made themselves the only ones who can properly exegete meaning. They have taken the Bible out of the hands of church members and thus, out of the church. I can certainly see and agree with both books and see how each point made is a helpful corrective to a common misuse.
May 2, 2023
I have never been more intrigued and infuriated in the same book. This book was an earthquake to so much of my thinking. Really glad I read it. Boersma is a fantastic writer.
Summary:
- Everything is sacramental
- Grammatical historical exegesis? = scientific naturalism
- evangelicalism is poopoo
- False dichotomies at every turn
I almost didn't read merely because Scott Mcknight wrote the forward. Glad I looked past it.
Summary:
- Everything is sacramental
- Grammatical historical exegesis? = scientific naturalism
- evangelicalism is poopoo
- False dichotomies at every turn
I almost didn't read merely because Scott Mcknight wrote the forward. Glad I looked past it.
April 2, 2022
Good overall. It wasn’t quite what I was expecting; it’s more of a sustained attack on the idea of sola scriptura and its accidental partner of biblical historicism. Nothing per de about the centrality of the Trinity, but emphases on the penultimate and sacramental nature of scripture, which presupposes several things: Christ, metaphysics, providence, the ecclesial community, and the theological goals of scripture
Read
December 14, 2022I have this image in my head of Hans Boersma running around at some Reformed conference, holding a noise generator, playing laugh tracks anytime someone says sola scriptura.
Puts a smile on my face 😊
Puts a smile on my face 😊
November 25, 2022
"No Platonism, No Scripture:" It’s a bold claim, and alas, I can’t claim to have coined it. In fact, it’s the title of the second chapter of Hans Boersma’s “Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew.”
If Fr Boersma’s book title leaves you reaching the apparently obvious conclusion that it is written only for biblical scholars, then it is regrettably deceptive, as it is certainly accessible to a far broader readership, and well worthy of any Christian’s attention. I say any Christian advisedly, because Boersma writes from the Reformed perspective of a former Presbyterian turned Anglican priest in ACNA, and his rapprochement of a sacramental metaphysics with biblical Christianity is a call for reunification across denominational boundaries of the Church Catholic in its fullest sense.
I’ve highlighted the title of the second chapter here because to me, it is the most interesting, but also because I think it is the cornerstone of his work. The other chapters, respectively, are: 1. No Christ, no Scripture; 3. No Providence, no Scripture; 4. No Church, no Scripture; and 5. No Heaven, no Scripture. Christ quite properly comes first, encompassing the whole of reality from the beginning to the end, which is life eternal - but key to Boersma’s argument is that (1) the entire trajectory, from Christ via Church to oneness with God, makes sense only under certain metaphysical assumptions, and 2. that those assumptions are incompatible with the tacit assumptions of Western secular modernity.
I’m going to spend the rest of this review considering that thesis, in my own words, rather than Fr Boersma’s. For his words, I recommend that you read his book!
Why should any given metaphysical position be requisite to reading the Bible? Can it not be read in reference only to itself, as an enclosed and self-interpreting canon? Or should it not be refracted by a wide array of external philosophical and political lenses? The first approach would be a classic instance of the Protestant doctrine of sola scriptura, and the latter the modus operandi of the various “theologies” of liberation grounded in Marxist critique and spurred on by postmodern theory. Boersma, despite his Reformed background (bear in mind he held the chair named after Evangelical theologian J.I. Packer at the Evangelical Regent College, Vancouver, for fourteen years) rejects both of these positions, at least as I have just described them. This, despite the fact that he is writing ostensibly to biblical scholars, and mainly Protestant ones, whose work tends to be grounded in the suppositions of one of those two camps, or of a third: that the Bible should be read analytically, and dissected using the same empirical tools of historical criticism that one would apply to any historical or literary texts. Whilst acknowledging the value of this historical-critical approach in the academic setting, it stands to reason that the Scriptures were not composed for the sake of academic research some two millennia later, let alone for the promotion of 20th century political ideologies. They were, rather, composed to lead their hearers (not, in the first instance, “readers”) to God, normatively through their public reading in worship. Boersma insists that for Christians, even the historical-critical approach can at best only complement the more comprehensive and essentially Christian way of reading Scripture, which is to read it in prayer and within the Body of Christ, of whom the Bible is a sacrament.
Scripture is sacramental: this is the core of Boersma’s argument. Hence his reliance on metaphysics, for the very notion of a “sacrament” has metaphysical implications. If a sacrament is, as the 1662 Prayer Book has it, “an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace,” whatever that inward and spiritual grace may be, it must be real. If sacraments are reduced to metaphors – say, Baptism as a metaphor for spiritual regeneration, the Eucharist as a metaphor for community participation – then they are robbed of their power. Yet metaphors is all they are allowed to be by the latent metaphysical assumptions of modernity and postmodernity, which are built on earlier Protestant assumptions. For even as a “token” or sign of someone’s faith in a spiritual reality – baptism as an expression of faith and repentance, the Eucharist as a token of trust in God’s salvific power – they remain unconnected to that reality, which is absolutely transcendent and ultimately of only cosmetic relevance to the rite. The natural Christian end for this sort of metaphysics is the non-sacramental Christianity of the Salvation Army, which neither celebrates neither baptism nor Holy Communion, holding, in perfect logical accord with this trajectory, that the sacraments are internal to a person and need no expression in ritual form.
Needless to say, this is not the position that Boersma advocates. His metaphysics are grounded rather in the principle of the Incarnation of Christ, whereby the ultimate spiritual reality, God Himself, is made manifest in the material flesh of Jesus of Nazareth, who Himself was immersed in the material water of the Jordan and executed on the material wood of the Cross. Through the Incarnation, matter is revealed as the conduit of spirit. Yet it would take several centuries of theological speculation and refutation of heresies to articulate this in the Trinitarian and hypostatic terms with which we are now familiar. This articulation rested very heavily on what we can loosely call “Platonic” metaphysics.
This is where we need to start defining terms. Boersma is not suggesting that the Bible can be read only through the lens of the complete works of Plato. The Platonist camp is broader and more variegated that the works of the great Athenian himself. There are innumerable internal disputes within the Platonic tradition, which spread from the works of Plato, but has deeper roots still, and remains in currency in various forms today, largely through the Abrahamic religions. So, we need to establish what we mean by the word “Platonism” at bare minimum for the sake of this argument: a “mere Platonism,” if you will. In that regard, it is hard to better the definition given by another Canadian Platonist, Lloyd Gerson, under the rubric of “Platonism by negation.” One can define Platonism more easily by what it is not, than by what it is. And for the purposes of our argument, the most relevant negatives are these: (1) Platonism is anti-materialist; (2) Platonism is anti-relativist; and (3) Platonism is anti-nominalist.
Let’s take these terms one by one. First, by “materialist,” I do not mean the modern sense of materially greedy (though that may prove an inescapable corollary of the primary meaning). Rather, Platonism argues against a view of the world in solely material terms. For instance, it would be unPlatonic to say that the mind can be explained solely in terms of the physical brain. There is a spiritual reality as well as the material. The precise relationship between those is a matter of intra-traditional dispute, but the existence of the spiritual is common to all Platonism.
Second, by “relativist,” I mean the doctrine expressed most famously in Plato by the various Sophists, that truth can be one thing in one place, and something else in another. Certainly, anti-relativism is a rejection of the principle that “man is the measure of all things,” a corollary of which is principle which Plato puts into the mouth of Thrasymachus, that truth is defined simply by whoever has the most power - a principle fondly held by the acolytes of Marx, Foucault, Putin and Donald Trump alike, it seems. There is such thing as absolute truth. Truth, and with it goodness and beauty, actually exist.
Finally, and most importantly, we come to that great father of error, “nominalism.” I’ve banged on about this enough, and rarely seem to come to a satisfactorily pithy definition, but here goes again. “Nominalism” derives from the Latin word for name, nomen. According to nominalist philosophy, the commonality among things we perceive in the world is little more than a useful fiction. We see one thing which looks like a tree, and another which looks similar, so we call them by the same name, or nomen. Names, or categories, are the way we impose a structure of meaning on the world so that we can live in it. Universals have no independent reality of their own; only particulars can really be said to exist. Hence, the things in this world have no underlying commonality, but are in reality entirely atomised and separate. It is only the human mind which maps commonality onto them. So, you can see how this position might lead one to say, for instance, that the difference between man and woman is “only” a social construct; or that the most powerful can define who is or is not really human, and so deserving of rights, including the right to life itself. Like it or not, this is now the default position of the modern West, along with its concomitant materialism and relativism, and although its logical culmination was crushed in the mid-20th century by the defeat of Nazism and again by the fall of the USSR, certain of its implications seem to be reaching full fruition today through rather less obvious conduits.
The origins of nominalism have been well-enough traced elsewhere (indeed, I make a stab at it in The Lost Way). Suffice it to say that it took a real hold on the European mind in the 13th century following the work of the Late Franciscan William of Ockham, and was formative on the thought of the Reformers. It also, as the Catholic Church came rather belatedly to realise, made a nonsense of the sacraments. Sacraments presuppose the participation of material things in spiritual reality. For if the relationships between one thing and another was arbitrary, then even if such a spiritual reality as divine grace existed, how could something material like water, bread, wine or oil have any real participation in it? How could any one thing mediate a discrete other? God was no longer the one in whom “we live, and move and have our being,” but was the Supreme Being reigning ascendent by virtue of His untrammelled, sovereign will.
If this is the case, then it makes no sense to speak of Scripture or anything else as “sacramental.” It also calls into urgent question the nature of Christ. How, in a non-sacramental reality, could He be both man and God? How can He, in His particularity, lift “humanity” as whole into oneness with God at His glorious Ascension, if “humanity” is merely a conventional nomenclature for something with no actual existence? How, indeed, can the vast majority of the Holy Scriptures which He did not directly speak in the Incarnation be called “the Word of God?” The entire Old Testament would become pretty much disposable, and the Christian faith is reduced to “the teachings of Jesus.” And indeed, this is precisely the path that much liberal Protestantism and even liberal Catholicism has trodden, in complete conformity with atheist moderns who can perhaps accept Jesus as a moderately gifted teacher, but certainly not as anything like “God Incarnate.” Still less could the entire cosmos be perceived as the great sacrament mediating the glory and grace God, as for instance Psalm 19 portrays.
Boersma highlights the inadequacy of sola scriptura in addressing this metaphysical deficit. Scripture is certainly the grounds and the principal authority for belief, but Scripture itself implies certain metaphysical commitments which are part of the milieu of its formation and transmission in the Church and its nascent Jewish forebear. The only grounds for accepting the doctrine of sola scriptura is that the Church has declared this to be so, in which case, there would still be a certain logical and historical priority to the Church and her tradition over Scripture, thus defeating the doctrine itself. The Church rests on Christ, but the possibility of acceding faith in Christ as the Divine Word demands a certain kind of philosophical, metaphysical reflection - and one which is incompatible with the metaphysics on which secular modernity rests. “Platonism” is simply the most developed form in the West of that realist, sacramental metaphysical philosophy - which after all, is in the end nothing more than the love of Wisdom, whom Christians know perfectly Incarnate in Christ.
Going beyond the scope of Boersma’s book, I would want to add that for all the quite proper emphasis on Platonism, we should not discount the possibility that other ancient metaphysical systems may be (and in my view certainly are) of great value in contributing to the intra-traditional disputes of Platonism which still affect Christian doctrine and assist in articulating Christian apologetics. They, too, can help to challenge the hidden metaphysics of modern nominalism, materialism and relativism - to the greater glory of God. My own theological project consists in an attempt to articulate this claim.
But Fr Boersma is, rightly, calling for far more than intellectual ammunition for the cause of the culture war or the skirmishes around its fringes. He is calling for a return to an older way of approaching Scripture, not as proof-texts, but as a vehicle for contemplation which leads us to salvation in Christ. He stops short of using the word theosis, though I think that is the destination to which his thesis proceeds. He wants us to see reality as a multi-layered sacrament of God, with Christ at its heart, the Word unfolding via the Incarnation, then Scripture, then the Church, and ultimately the cosmos as a whole, each layer mediating divine grace to a differing intensity. It is not a question of Word and Sacrament as two separate channels of grace, but seeing instead the sacramental ordering of the Word permeating all of reality. Boersma calls us to read the Scriptures first and foremost in contemplative prayer, guided by the liturgy with which Christ has blessed the Church and His Spirit has refined it over the ages.
If Fr Boersma’s book title leaves you reaching the apparently obvious conclusion that it is written only for biblical scholars, then it is regrettably deceptive, as it is certainly accessible to a far broader readership, and well worthy of any Christian’s attention. I say any Christian advisedly, because Boersma writes from the Reformed perspective of a former Presbyterian turned Anglican priest in ACNA, and his rapprochement of a sacramental metaphysics with biblical Christianity is a call for reunification across denominational boundaries of the Church Catholic in its fullest sense.
I’ve highlighted the title of the second chapter here because to me, it is the most interesting, but also because I think it is the cornerstone of his work. The other chapters, respectively, are: 1. No Christ, no Scripture; 3. No Providence, no Scripture; 4. No Church, no Scripture; and 5. No Heaven, no Scripture. Christ quite properly comes first, encompassing the whole of reality from the beginning to the end, which is life eternal - but key to Boersma’s argument is that (1) the entire trajectory, from Christ via Church to oneness with God, makes sense only under certain metaphysical assumptions, and 2. that those assumptions are incompatible with the tacit assumptions of Western secular modernity.
I’m going to spend the rest of this review considering that thesis, in my own words, rather than Fr Boersma’s. For his words, I recommend that you read his book!
Why should any given metaphysical position be requisite to reading the Bible? Can it not be read in reference only to itself, as an enclosed and self-interpreting canon? Or should it not be refracted by a wide array of external philosophical and political lenses? The first approach would be a classic instance of the Protestant doctrine of sola scriptura, and the latter the modus operandi of the various “theologies” of liberation grounded in Marxist critique and spurred on by postmodern theory. Boersma, despite his Reformed background (bear in mind he held the chair named after Evangelical theologian J.I. Packer at the Evangelical Regent College, Vancouver, for fourteen years) rejects both of these positions, at least as I have just described them. This, despite the fact that he is writing ostensibly to biblical scholars, and mainly Protestant ones, whose work tends to be grounded in the suppositions of one of those two camps, or of a third: that the Bible should be read analytically, and dissected using the same empirical tools of historical criticism that one would apply to any historical or literary texts. Whilst acknowledging the value of this historical-critical approach in the academic setting, it stands to reason that the Scriptures were not composed for the sake of academic research some two millennia later, let alone for the promotion of 20th century political ideologies. They were, rather, composed to lead their hearers (not, in the first instance, “readers”) to God, normatively through their public reading in worship. Boersma insists that for Christians, even the historical-critical approach can at best only complement the more comprehensive and essentially Christian way of reading Scripture, which is to read it in prayer and within the Body of Christ, of whom the Bible is a sacrament.
Scripture is sacramental: this is the core of Boersma’s argument. Hence his reliance on metaphysics, for the very notion of a “sacrament” has metaphysical implications. If a sacrament is, as the 1662 Prayer Book has it, “an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace,” whatever that inward and spiritual grace may be, it must be real. If sacraments are reduced to metaphors – say, Baptism as a metaphor for spiritual regeneration, the Eucharist as a metaphor for community participation – then they are robbed of their power. Yet metaphors is all they are allowed to be by the latent metaphysical assumptions of modernity and postmodernity, which are built on earlier Protestant assumptions. For even as a “token” or sign of someone’s faith in a spiritual reality – baptism as an expression of faith and repentance, the Eucharist as a token of trust in God’s salvific power – they remain unconnected to that reality, which is absolutely transcendent and ultimately of only cosmetic relevance to the rite. The natural Christian end for this sort of metaphysics is the non-sacramental Christianity of the Salvation Army, which neither celebrates neither baptism nor Holy Communion, holding, in perfect logical accord with this trajectory, that the sacraments are internal to a person and need no expression in ritual form.
Needless to say, this is not the position that Boersma advocates. His metaphysics are grounded rather in the principle of the Incarnation of Christ, whereby the ultimate spiritual reality, God Himself, is made manifest in the material flesh of Jesus of Nazareth, who Himself was immersed in the material water of the Jordan and executed on the material wood of the Cross. Through the Incarnation, matter is revealed as the conduit of spirit. Yet it would take several centuries of theological speculation and refutation of heresies to articulate this in the Trinitarian and hypostatic terms with which we are now familiar. This articulation rested very heavily on what we can loosely call “Platonic” metaphysics.
This is where we need to start defining terms. Boersma is not suggesting that the Bible can be read only through the lens of the complete works of Plato. The Platonist camp is broader and more variegated that the works of the great Athenian himself. There are innumerable internal disputes within the Platonic tradition, which spread from the works of Plato, but has deeper roots still, and remains in currency in various forms today, largely through the Abrahamic religions. So, we need to establish what we mean by the word “Platonism” at bare minimum for the sake of this argument: a “mere Platonism,” if you will. In that regard, it is hard to better the definition given by another Canadian Platonist, Lloyd Gerson, under the rubric of “Platonism by negation.” One can define Platonism more easily by what it is not, than by what it is. And for the purposes of our argument, the most relevant negatives are these: (1) Platonism is anti-materialist; (2) Platonism is anti-relativist; and (3) Platonism is anti-nominalist.
Let’s take these terms one by one. First, by “materialist,” I do not mean the modern sense of materially greedy (though that may prove an inescapable corollary of the primary meaning). Rather, Platonism argues against a view of the world in solely material terms. For instance, it would be unPlatonic to say that the mind can be explained solely in terms of the physical brain. There is a spiritual reality as well as the material. The precise relationship between those is a matter of intra-traditional dispute, but the existence of the spiritual is common to all Platonism.
Second, by “relativist,” I mean the doctrine expressed most famously in Plato by the various Sophists, that truth can be one thing in one place, and something else in another. Certainly, anti-relativism is a rejection of the principle that “man is the measure of all things,” a corollary of which is principle which Plato puts into the mouth of Thrasymachus, that truth is defined simply by whoever has the most power - a principle fondly held by the acolytes of Marx, Foucault, Putin and Donald Trump alike, it seems. There is such thing as absolute truth. Truth, and with it goodness and beauty, actually exist.
Finally, and most importantly, we come to that great father of error, “nominalism.” I’ve banged on about this enough, and rarely seem to come to a satisfactorily pithy definition, but here goes again. “Nominalism” derives from the Latin word for name, nomen. According to nominalist philosophy, the commonality among things we perceive in the world is little more than a useful fiction. We see one thing which looks like a tree, and another which looks similar, so we call them by the same name, or nomen. Names, or categories, are the way we impose a structure of meaning on the world so that we can live in it. Universals have no independent reality of their own; only particulars can really be said to exist. Hence, the things in this world have no underlying commonality, but are in reality entirely atomised and separate. It is only the human mind which maps commonality onto them. So, you can see how this position might lead one to say, for instance, that the difference between man and woman is “only” a social construct; or that the most powerful can define who is or is not really human, and so deserving of rights, including the right to life itself. Like it or not, this is now the default position of the modern West, along with its concomitant materialism and relativism, and although its logical culmination was crushed in the mid-20th century by the defeat of Nazism and again by the fall of the USSR, certain of its implications seem to be reaching full fruition today through rather less obvious conduits.
The origins of nominalism have been well-enough traced elsewhere (indeed, I make a stab at it in The Lost Way). Suffice it to say that it took a real hold on the European mind in the 13th century following the work of the Late Franciscan William of Ockham, and was formative on the thought of the Reformers. It also, as the Catholic Church came rather belatedly to realise, made a nonsense of the sacraments. Sacraments presuppose the participation of material things in spiritual reality. For if the relationships between one thing and another was arbitrary, then even if such a spiritual reality as divine grace existed, how could something material like water, bread, wine or oil have any real participation in it? How could any one thing mediate a discrete other? God was no longer the one in whom “we live, and move and have our being,” but was the Supreme Being reigning ascendent by virtue of His untrammelled, sovereign will.
If this is the case, then it makes no sense to speak of Scripture or anything else as “sacramental.” It also calls into urgent question the nature of Christ. How, in a non-sacramental reality, could He be both man and God? How can He, in His particularity, lift “humanity” as whole into oneness with God at His glorious Ascension, if “humanity” is merely a conventional nomenclature for something with no actual existence? How, indeed, can the vast majority of the Holy Scriptures which He did not directly speak in the Incarnation be called “the Word of God?” The entire Old Testament would become pretty much disposable, and the Christian faith is reduced to “the teachings of Jesus.” And indeed, this is precisely the path that much liberal Protestantism and even liberal Catholicism has trodden, in complete conformity with atheist moderns who can perhaps accept Jesus as a moderately gifted teacher, but certainly not as anything like “God Incarnate.” Still less could the entire cosmos be perceived as the great sacrament mediating the glory and grace God, as for instance Psalm 19 portrays.
Boersma highlights the inadequacy of sola scriptura in addressing this metaphysical deficit. Scripture is certainly the grounds and the principal authority for belief, but Scripture itself implies certain metaphysical commitments which are part of the milieu of its formation and transmission in the Church and its nascent Jewish forebear. The only grounds for accepting the doctrine of sola scriptura is that the Church has declared this to be so, in which case, there would still be a certain logical and historical priority to the Church and her tradition over Scripture, thus defeating the doctrine itself. The Church rests on Christ, but the possibility of acceding faith in Christ as the Divine Word demands a certain kind of philosophical, metaphysical reflection - and one which is incompatible with the metaphysics on which secular modernity rests. “Platonism” is simply the most developed form in the West of that realist, sacramental metaphysical philosophy - which after all, is in the end nothing more than the love of Wisdom, whom Christians know perfectly Incarnate in Christ.
Going beyond the scope of Boersma’s book, I would want to add that for all the quite proper emphasis on Platonism, we should not discount the possibility that other ancient metaphysical systems may be (and in my view certainly are) of great value in contributing to the intra-traditional disputes of Platonism which still affect Christian doctrine and assist in articulating Christian apologetics. They, too, can help to challenge the hidden metaphysics of modern nominalism, materialism and relativism - to the greater glory of God. My own theological project consists in an attempt to articulate this claim.
But Fr Boersma is, rightly, calling for far more than intellectual ammunition for the cause of the culture war or the skirmishes around its fringes. He is calling for a return to an older way of approaching Scripture, not as proof-texts, but as a vehicle for contemplation which leads us to salvation in Christ. He stops short of using the word theosis, though I think that is the destination to which his thesis proceeds. He wants us to see reality as a multi-layered sacrament of God, with Christ at its heart, the Word unfolding via the Incarnation, then Scripture, then the Church, and ultimately the cosmos as a whole, each layer mediating divine grace to a differing intensity. It is not a question of Word and Sacrament as two separate channels of grace, but seeing instead the sacramental ordering of the Word permeating all of reality. Boersma calls us to read the Scriptures first and foremost in contemplative prayer, guided by the liturgy with which Christ has blessed the Church and His Spirit has refined it over the ages.
June 27, 2021
This book challenges the pure sola scriptura and historical-critical method of discovering the meaning of scripture. This is an academic level book, but is broadly applicable to Church leadership. I have a post-graduate degree in theology and at times found it difficult to understand the author's argument (especially concerning Christian Platonism). That said, I have enjoyed the book and agree with his overall thesis - Scripture is unlike any other writing, it is sacramental, having a supernatural origin and effect and needs to be approached as such! I particularly enjoyed the chapters on Providence and the place of the Church in interpretation. I was also encouraged by the author's affirmation of Lectio Divina. Boersma argues that the meaning of Scripture is found in the gathering of the people of God and not in the clinical tools of the enlightenment or the academy. Boersma's style is warm, faith-filled and passionate.
September 16, 2023
I'm a biblical studies guy so this book is meant for me.
Hans Boersma lectured in a couple of my classes and I always had difficulty with both his theological terminology that made him hard to follow at times, and some of his views. It's the same with this book. I did not take a lot of systematic theology...
One of the things I had difficulty with was the dichotomies he created, as if there are only two options. His discussion of 'no heaven, no Scripture' tended to pose a dichotomy between heavenly, spiritual contemplation or this-worldly action (although he sometimes corrects this). I strongly disagree with this. Scripture is clear that our ultimate end is a combination of both, as made clear in Revelation when heaven comes down to earth, and in the many passages that focus on the importance of our actions, God's concern for justice, etc. (James 2:14-26!).
Boersma also puts complete authority in the early church's interpretation of Scripture. A lot of his arguments are based on the assumption that because the church fathers interpreted Scripture a certain way it means that is good and we should do the same, but he rarely touches on why we should imitate the hermeneutics of the church fathers (he slightly addresses it in the last chapter).
Boersma argues that "we need a good dose of Plato for some of the key teachings of Scripture to become intelligible" but does such intelligibility come at the risk of importing foreign ideas into Scripture? While Boersma may be right to point out the value of a platonist metaphysic for making sense of Christian theology, this does not necessitate that we need to import further (any?) Greek philosophy into our Christian theology. Furthermore, just because a platonist metaphysic helps us better understand tricky theological doctrines such as the Trinity, that does not mean that this metaphysic is without faults or problematic aspects. Or to put it another way, just because we find a platonist metaphysic more helpful than other options, that does not mean that it is wholly biblical either. He is correct that we all bring a certain metaphysic to our understanding of Scripture, nonetheless I am cautious of the metaphysic he proposes, although I have not studied philosophy enough to be able to critique him or articulate my hesitancy well. At the least Boersma has made me aware of how each person has a metaphysic and that we need to critically think about what kind of metaphysic we hold and how that influences our understanding of Scripture.
His chapter on "no providence, no Scripture" was provocative in that it raises the big issue with historical exegesis - if exegesis can be boiled down to steps and authorial intent, where does it leave room for God? How does our methodology incorporate the very fact that Scripture is also divine? Or as he says in his last chapter: "To put it bluntly, historical interpretation doesn't require a relationship with God." I agree with Boersma that historical exegesis runs the risk of putting too much emphasis on the human aspect of the text, of neglecting the divine aspect, and of naively thinking that it can reach an objective understanding of the text, but that doesn't mean that all biblical scholars do this. His straw man argument misses that here are many Christian biblical scholars that seriously consider the divine aspect of the Bible and are very much aware of their own biases in interpretation. I also don't agree that the divine providence behind the text necessitates an allegorical or spiritual reading. Boersma makes it sound like the human aspect of the text is read on the surface and is not very important, but the divine aspect of the text is read behind the text and is what truly matters, as if the two don't agree with each other, but I don't think it is not such a simple distinction or dichotomy.
I did appreciate 1) his discussion on the church as the primary context in which Scripture is read and interpreted, 2) his discussion on the purpose of Scripture (what Boersma argues is the relationship with and worship of God) and how that should impact our exegesis, and 3) the link between interpretation and godliness, or what Boersma calls living virtuously. He argues that our biblical interpretation should lead to growth in virtue and as we become more virtuous we become better interpreters of Scripture: "The best Christians are the best readers."
Overall, this was a provocative book that I think will be helpful for those in biblical studies to read. This is not because I fully agree with Boersma, but because he has some serious critiques about historical-grammatical exegesis that we should think about. In an age where theological and biblical scholarship is often divided, Boersma helps biblical scholars bridge that gap and consider the value and importance of theological interpretation.
See also my review on the companion volume Five Things Biblical Scholars Wish Theologians Knew by Scot McKnight
Hans Boersma lectured in a couple of my classes and I always had difficulty with both his theological terminology that made him hard to follow at times, and some of his views. It's the same with this book. I did not take a lot of systematic theology...
One of the things I had difficulty with was the dichotomies he created, as if there are only two options. His discussion of 'no heaven, no Scripture' tended to pose a dichotomy between heavenly, spiritual contemplation or this-worldly action (although he sometimes corrects this). I strongly disagree with this. Scripture is clear that our ultimate end is a combination of both, as made clear in Revelation when heaven comes down to earth, and in the many passages that focus on the importance of our actions, God's concern for justice, etc. (James 2:14-26!).
Boersma also puts complete authority in the early church's interpretation of Scripture. A lot of his arguments are based on the assumption that because the church fathers interpreted Scripture a certain way it means that is good and we should do the same, but he rarely touches on why we should imitate the hermeneutics of the church fathers (he slightly addresses it in the last chapter).
Boersma argues that "we need a good dose of Plato for some of the key teachings of Scripture to become intelligible" but does such intelligibility come at the risk of importing foreign ideas into Scripture? While Boersma may be right to point out the value of a platonist metaphysic for making sense of Christian theology, this does not necessitate that we need to import further (any?) Greek philosophy into our Christian theology. Furthermore, just because a platonist metaphysic helps us better understand tricky theological doctrines such as the Trinity, that does not mean that this metaphysic is without faults or problematic aspects. Or to put it another way, just because we find a platonist metaphysic more helpful than other options, that does not mean that it is wholly biblical either. He is correct that we all bring a certain metaphysic to our understanding of Scripture, nonetheless I am cautious of the metaphysic he proposes, although I have not studied philosophy enough to be able to critique him or articulate my hesitancy well. At the least Boersma has made me aware of how each person has a metaphysic and that we need to critically think about what kind of metaphysic we hold and how that influences our understanding of Scripture.
His chapter on "no providence, no Scripture" was provocative in that it raises the big issue with historical exegesis - if exegesis can be boiled down to steps and authorial intent, where does it leave room for God? How does our methodology incorporate the very fact that Scripture is also divine? Or as he says in his last chapter: "To put it bluntly, historical interpretation doesn't require a relationship with God." I agree with Boersma that historical exegesis runs the risk of putting too much emphasis on the human aspect of the text, of neglecting the divine aspect, and of naively thinking that it can reach an objective understanding of the text, but that doesn't mean that all biblical scholars do this. His straw man argument misses that here are many Christian biblical scholars that seriously consider the divine aspect of the Bible and are very much aware of their own biases in interpretation. I also don't agree that the divine providence behind the text necessitates an allegorical or spiritual reading. Boersma makes it sound like the human aspect of the text is read on the surface and is not very important, but the divine aspect of the text is read behind the text and is what truly matters, as if the two don't agree with each other, but I don't think it is not such a simple distinction or dichotomy.
I did appreciate 1) his discussion on the church as the primary context in which Scripture is read and interpreted, 2) his discussion on the purpose of Scripture (what Boersma argues is the relationship with and worship of God) and how that should impact our exegesis, and 3) the link between interpretation and godliness, or what Boersma calls living virtuously. He argues that our biblical interpretation should lead to growth in virtue and as we become more virtuous we become better interpreters of Scripture: "The best Christians are the best readers."
Overall, this was a provocative book that I think will be helpful for those in biblical studies to read. This is not because I fully agree with Boersma, but because he has some serious critiques about historical-grammatical exegesis that we should think about. In an age where theological and biblical scholarship is often divided, Boersma helps biblical scholars bridge that gap and consider the value and importance of theological interpretation.
See also my review on the companion volume Five Things Biblical Scholars Wish Theologians Knew by Scot McKnight
December 21, 2021
Imagine being a spectator of the dialogue between a theologian and a biblical scholar, and that each of them has five specific things to say to each other regarding their theological work. With this series of books published by Intervarsity Press, you no longer have to imagine such a scene, recently the books have been published: "Five Things Biblical Scholars Wish Theologians Knew" by Scot Mcknight and "Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew" by Hans Boersma
I had the opportunity to read "Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew" by Hans Boersma. There were really a lot of moments where I would take the marker and say, "wow, this is so true." Hans Boersma, with a deep and enjoyable style, brings the reader (biblical scholar or not) closer to five issues that should be considered with great importance: Christ, metaphysics, the providence of God, the church and heaven. All this in relation to the Scriptures.
Boersma, shows the biblical scholar (and everyone) that if we do not meet Christ in the Scriptures it is not really helpful; that if we do not use the proper ‘metaphysical lenses’ for reading the Scriptures, we will come to weak conclusions. He also reminds us of the importance of God's care in the Scripture process, and of how the Church plays an important role, being she who must affirm and sustain the truths of Scripture. Finally, the author reminds us of need to contemplate God in the Scriptures. Each of these elements is approached with abundant patristic material as well as from the Scriptures themselves.
Chapters 1 and 2 were the ones that caught my attention and interest, since they are issues that we tend to overlook, how it is to meet Christ in the Scriptures and how we read them. I consider these two chapters to be pivotal points for the rest of the work.
Hans Boersma shows us a great idea: the Bible is a sacrament. And for this he brings us closer to these five things, which are not only useful for biblical scholars but also for me and for you.
I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review.
I had the opportunity to read "Five Things Theologians Wish Biblical Scholars Knew" by Hans Boersma. There were really a lot of moments where I would take the marker and say, "wow, this is so true." Hans Boersma, with a deep and enjoyable style, brings the reader (biblical scholar or not) closer to five issues that should be considered with great importance: Christ, metaphysics, the providence of God, the church and heaven. All this in relation to the Scriptures.
Boersma, shows the biblical scholar (and everyone) that if we do not meet Christ in the Scriptures it is not really helpful; that if we do not use the proper ‘metaphysical lenses’ for reading the Scriptures, we will come to weak conclusions. He also reminds us of the importance of God's care in the Scripture process, and of how the Church plays an important role, being she who must affirm and sustain the truths of Scripture. Finally, the author reminds us of need to contemplate God in the Scriptures. Each of these elements is approached with abundant patristic material as well as from the Scriptures themselves.
Chapters 1 and 2 were the ones that caught my attention and interest, since they are issues that we tend to overlook, how it is to meet Christ in the Scriptures and how we read them. I consider these two chapters to be pivotal points for the rest of the work.
Hans Boersma shows us a great idea: the Bible is a sacrament. And for this he brings us closer to these five things, which are not only useful for biblical scholars but also for me and for you.
I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review.
February 14, 2025
I bought this as a biblical scholar, curious about what theologians might have to say to me. I am not sure if these five things came from a broad survey of theologians, or whether this is Boersma's own list. In any case, I was disappointed although not surprised. The book could be summed up as: Don't stop listening to (mostly white) men.
In each of the five chapters, Boersma promoted a certain lens needed for approaching scripture: christology, neo-platonism, providence, church dogma and traditions, and contemplation. These are not bad caveats in and of themselves, and I mostly enjoyed listening, especially to chapter 2. But he recognizes throughout that all of these lenses can be misused, and his ultimate standard against which he measures right and wrong uses seems to be the church fathers and church leaders, in other words mostly white men.
This problem can be encapsulated by his overall use of male-centered language and his lack of reference to any women (at least that I noticed in the audiobook) except for one imagined 19th century black women who would interpret the Exodus differently than he does. However, he fails to ever value her contribution to the task of interpretation, or to propose any way in which she might be able to participate. In fact he asserts the primacy of our identity in Christ so vehemently over the acknowledged different interpretations that stem from social location that it seemed likely to me that all interpretations would be seen as special and marginalized except for a historical white male interpretation equated to one's identity in Christ.
In each of the five chapters, Boersma promoted a certain lens needed for approaching scripture: christology, neo-platonism, providence, church dogma and traditions, and contemplation. These are not bad caveats in and of themselves, and I mostly enjoyed listening, especially to chapter 2. But he recognizes throughout that all of these lenses can be misused, and his ultimate standard against which he measures right and wrong uses seems to be the church fathers and church leaders, in other words mostly white men.
This problem can be encapsulated by his overall use of male-centered language and his lack of reference to any women (at least that I noticed in the audiobook) except for one imagined 19th century black women who would interpret the Exodus differently than he does. However, he fails to ever value her contribution to the task of interpretation, or to propose any way in which she might be able to participate. In fact he asserts the primacy of our identity in Christ so vehemently over the acknowledged different interpretations that stem from social location that it seemed likely to me that all interpretations would be seen as special and marginalized except for a historical white male interpretation equated to one's identity in Christ.
December 17, 2021
Theologians (and I consider myself one) do wish that biblical scholars would keep us in mind as they do their scholarly work. The historical-critical method has a place, but it's a means to an end and not the end. If it is, we are left with a historical document with no further value. But when read theologically, well it continues to speak.
This book is part of a two-book series. One written by a theologian to biblical scholars. The other is written by a biblical scholar - Scot McKnight -- to theologians. The point here is, as Boersma, a professor of theology at a traditionalist Anglican seminary (Nashotah House) offers 5 specific things he would like biblical scholars knew.
I'll just name them and if this intrigues then check out the book:
1. No Christ, No Scripture (importance of reading scripture Christologically)
2. No Plato, No Scripture (hey anti-Greek folks, he wants your attention).
3. No Providence, No Scripture (God is involved)
4. No Church, No Scripture (scripture is meant to be read in community)
5. No Heaven, No Scripture (it is a sacred book after all).
If it intrigues, check it out. I agree to some extent, but I'm not quite there. Though he's a Protestant who has a Reformed background. He's not a complete sola scriptura guy.
This book is part of a two-book series. One written by a theologian to biblical scholars. The other is written by a biblical scholar - Scot McKnight -- to theologians. The point here is, as Boersma, a professor of theology at a traditionalist Anglican seminary (Nashotah House) offers 5 specific things he would like biblical scholars knew.
I'll just name them and if this intrigues then check out the book:
1. No Christ, No Scripture (importance of reading scripture Christologically)
2. No Plato, No Scripture (hey anti-Greek folks, he wants your attention).
3. No Providence, No Scripture (God is involved)
4. No Church, No Scripture (scripture is meant to be read in community)
5. No Heaven, No Scripture (it is a sacred book after all).
If it intrigues, check it out. I agree to some extent, but I'm not quite there. Though he's a Protestant who has a Reformed background. He's not a complete sola scriptura guy.
April 16, 2022
This book's greatest shortcoming is its click-bait title which, unfortunately, shapes the whole book. The title sets up such strawman arguments as "the third thing that I, as a theologian, wish biblical scholars knew is that their work benefits from the recognition that in God's providence the Scriptures are unlike any other book." How many biblical scholars, especially ones who are still alive, would disagree with this statement?
For the reader who can set aside the objection that many biblical scholars already know the things he wishes they knew, the book makes many valid and important points, such as: metaphysics matter, Scripture is inseparable from Tradition, our moral lives shape our reading of Scripture, and the ultimate purpose of Scripture is to bring us to Christ. None of these points was new to me, but the book was a nice reminder.
For the reader who can set aside the objection that many biblical scholars already know the things he wishes they knew, the book makes many valid and important points, such as: metaphysics matter, Scripture is inseparable from Tradition, our moral lives shape our reading of Scripture, and the ultimate purpose of Scripture is to bring us to Christ. None of these points was new to me, but the book was a nice reminder.
May 1, 2024
I wish I could make everyone read chapters 2, 3, and 5. They are worth the read alone. Those chapters are 5 stars.
Chapters 1 and 4, I can see how they are causing some ripples. If you have not read Boersma before this, you may not be ready for his flavor. He is Anglican but Evangelical, Catholic but not. He is heavily based in participation language and has a bend toward a higher church authority than most Evangelicals. This is not to say that everything here is wrong; it's just that maybe it's worded in a way that will cause those not familiar with his writing to be frustrated. I did disagree with some of the things in here, or at the very least, I wished he would have said it differently.
It is worth a read, but this may be one that is best read in a study group with someone who has read Boersma and can guide the discussion around tricky concepts.
Chapters 1 and 4, I can see how they are causing some ripples. If you have not read Boersma before this, you may not be ready for his flavor. He is Anglican but Evangelical, Catholic but not. He is heavily based in participation language and has a bend toward a higher church authority than most Evangelicals. This is not to say that everything here is wrong; it's just that maybe it's worded in a way that will cause those not familiar with his writing to be frustrated. I did disagree with some of the things in here, or at the very least, I wished he would have said it differently.
It is worth a read, but this may be one that is best read in a study group with someone who has read Boersma and can guide the discussion around tricky concepts.
December 28, 2021
This book suffers from two misgivings; use of strawman arguments to set up their opponents’ viewpoints and the use of extremes to prove their own. At times, it reads as an antiquated discourse that places its aims at Protestant sola scriptura proponents that likely no longer adhere to their side during the debates that had long ago been adjudicated. What results is less a didactic and dialogical treatise and more a call for mere primacy of the theological over the scriptural. [It’s noted that this book is part of a two-book series that attempts to pit biblical scholars against theologians and as such may be read tongue-in-cheek, but when read by a wider audience runs the risk of appearing disingenuous].
March 9, 2024
Listened to it via Audible+.
Somewhat strange. The author seems to advocate for a view between sola Scriptura and the Catholic emphasis on tradition and also a sacramental reading of Scripture. He cautions against reading the Bible as mere history or the like, such that reading of Scripture becomes a merely historical and a-theological endeavour. However, he never defines what sola Scriptura is and therefore cannot show that misuses of the grammatical-historical method are entailed by it (assuming he would want to show this). There are some other good points like his discussion of metaphysics in the reading of Scripture, and the like.
Somewhat strange. The author seems to advocate for a view between sola Scriptura and the Catholic emphasis on tradition and also a sacramental reading of Scripture. He cautions against reading the Bible as mere history or the like, such that reading of Scripture becomes a merely historical and a-theological endeavour. However, he never defines what sola Scriptura is and therefore cannot show that misuses of the grammatical-historical method are entailed by it (assuming he would want to show this). There are some other good points like his discussion of metaphysics in the reading of Scripture, and the like.
October 25, 2024
After reading this and the companion volume, I guess it’s obvious that I’m more of a theologian than a biblical scholar. What’s odd is that most of my training is in scholarship, not theology (per the categories the two books make), and yet while I pay lip service to scholarship, where I land more often in practice (as a preacher) is the theological reading. I think the two sides counter balancing themselves is best. This book has a lot of great concepts and gives words to loose thoughts I’ve often had in my hermeneutical methodology.
September 23, 2021
There are portions of this book that I would give one or two stars, but there are so many five-star portions that I feel conflicted, and am left with four. In brief, my biggest problem is that Boersma seems to misrepresent sola scriptura as pitting Scripture *against* tradition. Apart from that (to be expected) objection, this book is excellent.
April 26, 2021
You really need to read the companion volume by Scot McKnight to get the full context of this discussion, but there plenty of great insights to read, to ruminate on and consider on their own. Certainly a book for academics, but well worth getting.
May 12, 2022
Interesting but densely written. One needs a theological dictionary while reading. Scripture is not a thing in itself (res), but a means (sacrament) to know God. The church not the academy is where we get to know God through the bible.
October 11, 2021
Много, много свежа - дори човек да не е съгласен с някои неща.
May 4, 2022
The core concepts of this book are good to hear, but I did get lost on some of the examples that he used that were over my head.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 39 reviews