Exegeting the scriptures for preaching is not to be reduced to the historical and critical methods developed in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. They have their place, but they do not replace nearly twenty centuries of the church’s exegetical work. Nor do these methods guarantee the healthy tension required for twenty-first-century preaching. They are good for what they were designed to do. They identify the sources that feed into the books of the canon, showing parallels with other ancient literature. They identify the form of the literature, so we can distinguish one genre from another. Critical study exposes the institutions within ancient Hebrew culture, comparing it with customs of surrounding peoples. By means of these studies we learn the interconnections between what we now distinguish as religious teaching and practice, from political, economic, and social structures and patterns. Examining how the sources were edited serves to indicate the issues that were pressing for the compiler and help us to know the theology that operates in a given book. Language study is crucial for knowing the meaning of words in their origin, root meaning, and the world of images out of which they emerged. This component of exegesis is crucial, and it must never be set aside or diminished. But it must be kept in tension with other knowledges to serve the purposes of preaching.
If we are to preach within tension, we must also be attentive to the times and seasons in which we preach. Before the departure of the Lord at the end of his earthly ministry, the disciples asked Jesus whether the moment preceding his ascension was the time when he would restore the kingdom to Israel. His answer was that it was not for them to know the times and seasons the Father had reserved for his power. Rather, they would receive power after the Holy Ghost came upon him to be witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the utmost parts of the earth. The Lord did not say it was not for them to know the times and seasons in which they carried forth the ministry given to them, however. Indeed, the Spirit was given precisely so they might know their times and seasons.
The times and seasons of the text and the context must be exegeted for preaching to be focused and clear. For the text of scripture, the critical methods identified with biblical scholarship are indispensable. Along with them, however, come all of the theological disciplines, as well as the emancipating knowledges coming from the human sciences, and the critical knowledge of the natural sciences.
The manner in which the scriptures have been interpreted in the long history of the church is utterly consequential for preaching in the twenty-first century. Indeed, the dogmatic constructions of the church are the direct consequence of how the scriptures have been read. Doctrine did not fall from the sky. This is true both of the doctrines that unite Christians and those that divide them. To put the matter another way, there are no Christians who concede that their teaching is “unscriptural.” What one finds in both the written and unwritten text of believing communities reflects the efforts of living, believing Christians to make sense of the scriptural deposit that has been received as well as those things believed and taught among them.
Dogmatics operate at the threshold of the faith. They deal with what must be believed and confessed for persons to claim they are Christian. Or they compel an account of how a claim can be made to Christian identity without such a confession. An outline of dogmatics follows the order of the statements of the creeds of the church. No matter what one’s denomination, members do well to be familiar with these boundaries. Otherwise there can be great and costly forfeiture of troves of wisdom. Systematics keep one mindful of what must be said to confess the mystery of godliness in a manner that is consistent and coherent. For example, systematics prevents a statement concerning the Spirit to contradict what must be said concerning the Son. Attention is given by this discipline to how what is said at one point in confession interpenetrates all else that must be said. In addition, systematics seek for coherence between theological knowledge and other fields that do not pretend to be driven by a search for understanding the knowledge of God that comes by faith.
Knowledge of times and seasons also penetrates into the thickness of concrete, historical Christian communities, known as denominational and nondenominational churches. This is theology that presses below the threshold of written texts into oral traditions, patterns, gestures, idioms, and astructural content that are given with the pulse of the people. In this tissue one finds “ersatz” (informal) dogma where claims are staked and given the valence of gospel, and elevated to the status of sin and salvation, life and death. By this knowledge churches grow, or they go the way of defunct institutions that preceded them. These are the sorts of issues one finds addressed directly in the epistles and indirectly in the gospels. It is in this tension between the text and context that issues are disclosed as the impediments to the gospel they really are, or as the false faith that is not recognize as such. In the New Testament church issues such as circumcision and division were viewed in this light.
Preaching cannot occur without knowledge of the times and seasons of those to whom one preaches. Herein lies one of the great challenges for twenty-first-century preachers born before or shortly after the midpoint of the twentieth century. Seismic shifts in knowledge divide the century into two epistemological domains. The explosion of technology and virtual communication creates two worlds within the same families and communities. But similar shifts also occurred in matters of politics, economics, race, gender, and other descriptors by which we categorize our civilization. At the epicenter of this seismic shift are the theological issues of liberation and pneumatology. Preaching without knowledge of times and seasons reduces to the rhetoric and elocution of centuries that are past.
The tension that ties preaching to the seasons of the liturgical year also supplies health. It keeps the people of God focused on salvation history, supplying marvelous occasions for teaching the faith. Around these concrete moments can be found unsurpassed occasions for rehearsing the gospel. As one moves from Advent to Christmas, to Epiphany, to Lent, Easter, Pentecost, and Whitsuntide, opportunities are supplied for declaring the wondrous deeds of God in the thickness of life and the specificity of the human condition.
Holidays, cultural events, and idiomatic practices likewise supply tension. In some cases the opportunity is afforded for saying why a cultural event is not to be confused with Christian celebration at all. Other events beg to be lifted above the sentimentality and narcissism of parochial indulgences. Church Anniversary, for instance, begs for some discussion of ecclesiology and mission. Mother’s Day and Men’s Day are occasions for addressing the vocation of Christians in ordinary time in light of our calling under God. Methodologically speaking, the posture is that of listening to hear what the word might speak to a particular people on a specific occasion. It is asking the text, “What have you to say to the children of God today?”
It is no less than amazing to see what the findings are when one operates within boundaries and tensions. This is an approach to preaching that does not rely on cleverness and innovation. It takes seriously the sense of preaching found in the early church. One delivers in preaching what has been received from the Lord. A dispensation has been given to the preacher; the consequence is woe for not preaching the gospel. Preaching is an act of contending for the faith once delivered to the saints, and in undertaking the task one need not rely on tales artfully spun. When all is said and done, the mandate is to preach the remission of sins. We are sent by the Son, even as the Father has sent the Son, and we are accompanied by the very breath of God.
Bringing the times and seasons to the text is nothing less than the methodological performance of the question asked of Jeremiah by a young king named Zedekiah. What is so interesting in that case is that the young king did not really want to hear what the older prophet (who had been a friend of his father) had to say. Yet the question is on target. Faced with the dilemma of a kingdom under siege, he asked, “Is there any word from the Lord?”
Methodologically speaking, the issue is how to beg for the word needed in the moment, and how to open discursive spaces for its entrance. The opening is a tempus through which the word pierces, penetrates, illumines, and challenges the context and empowers the hearer. The word itself is a manifestation of power (a kratophany). This is where the word comes alive. Some have the wonderful gift for telling stories, or giving illustrations. Others will wear their selves out looking for stories, telling lies, or taking stories of others as their own.
Many more will be helped (and far better)