[July 2000 journal entry]
I have experienced three ways to consider Jewish scripture and Christian scripture in forming life-views, establishing values/aspirations, and making decisions. Imagine a circle representing the ‘religious’ sphere. Two of the three ways are inside this circle; one is outside this circle. Imagine widening circles around three points – i.e., Interpretation #1, Interpretation #2, and Interpretation #3.
I was born and raised with Interpretation #1 (which is located deep within the ‘religious’ sphere) taken for granted. This disposition/approach begins and ends with final authority assigned to Jewish scripture and Christian scripture (including the historical, cultural, and contextual records/expressions of ‘religious’ faith found therein). The received ‘canon’ collection -- also taken for granted -- is considered the authoritative text for cosmology, scientific questions, political decisions, history, marriage/family, sexuality, social laws/mores, . . . (essentially the equivalent of a set of educational texts for a school curriculum). The interpretation of Jewish scripture and Christian scripture is assumed to be clear and without ambiguity. My public school experience – though hardly cutting edge in rural West Kentucky – revealed other views to me as a youth and planted questions in my mind re Interpretation #1.
By the time my first wife had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (1973) and I had begun graduate studies (1974), I had moved to Interpretation #2 – variations of which are also located within but toward the outer edge of the ‘religious’ sphere. This disposition/approach also begins and ends with final authority assigned to Jewish scripture and Christian scripture. However, the results of critical scholarship re historical, cultural, and contextual records/expressions of faith found therein alter what is considered normative or feasible. Interpretation is seen to be far more complicated. More and more exceptions to the conclusions of Interpretation #1 arise. Interpretation #2 moved me far from the ‘religious’ tradition in which I was raised. I found examples of Interpretation #2 as early as Origen of Alexandria in the history of Christian thought, though Interpretation #2 did not become a clearly defined alternative until well into the 19th century in response to the rapidly expanding results of scientific inquiry.
By our 1992 move to Vermont, I had moved to Interpretation #3. Other than Bonhoeffer’s prison correspondence, I had found no direction for Interpretation #3 (which is located outside/beyond the ‘religious’ sphere). Interpretation #3 begins and ends with observation and judgment in the concrete ‘present’ of life experience as understood (1) from the perspective/angle of alignment with the most vulnerable and existentially threatened/ing individuals and (2) with foundational weight given to insights into life experiences gained through ‘from below’ inquiry. Jewish scripture and Christian scripture are considered seriously in my peripheral vision and through this two-dimensional ‘grid’. My movement toward Interpretation #3 was prompted/sustained from five directions:
First, I matured into a historian who consciously and intentionally inquires into a subject/question without predetermined paradigm allegiances (in contrast to the ‘confessional historians’ who are permitted/sanctioned within societal spheres including but not limited to the ‘religious’ sphere). The earliest evidence of this approach to historical inquiry I remember is a 1974 conversation I had with a fellow graduate student. We were both enrolled in a ‘Critical Introduction to the New Testament’ course. It was my second graduate course. My research topic was to study the “that it might be fulfilled” sayings in the Gospel of Matthew. In a conversation about the implications of our research for viewing Jewish scripture and Christian scripture as inspired, the student (name long since forgotten) told me he intended to make his research fit his already settled view of inspiration. I told the student it would be the reverse for me – i.e., that my thought about the inspiration of Jewish scripture and Christian scripture would be altered by the results of my research. A couple of years later, I read for the first time David Fischer’s Historians’ Fallacies. I have since worn out several copies reinforcing my caution and resolve as a historian. Soon after the exchange, I accepted that every attempt at historical interpretation is ‘a history’, never ‘the history’. Since that time, every historical question/subject has remained open to further examination.
Second, the experience with my first wife (d. 1987) as she fought multiple sclerosis opened my eyes to the breadth and depth of human suffering. In graduate classes I taught (1979-92), I had students do their assignments in hospital waiting rooms or other such settings rather than in a library or at dormitory desks in order to expose them to my conclusion that human suffering is the place/angle from which to think about ethics and spirituality. Since that time, it has been of highest priority for me to be so positioned when thinking about ethics and spirituality.
Third, I first read Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s prison letters in Spring 1976 and soon embarked -- oriented by his analysis -- on a radical (i.e., to the root) critique of ‘religion’. My critique of ‘religion’ – which remains ongoing – eventually resulted in the discrediting of ‘religion’ as a reliable paradigm or sphere within which to think about ethics and spirituality.
Fourth, my friendship and collaborative relationship with Tom Elkins, MD, began in the early 1980s an expanding opportunity to be present inside the medical sphere with medical students, residents, academic physicians, and practicing physicians. I quickly felt (and continue to feel) accountable for the authenticity and justification of every word/thought I express in their midst (a level of accountability that far exceeds the level of accountability I had experienced within the ‘religious’ sphere). Also, a deep collegiality/fellowship developed with a circle of physicians (some while they were still in medical school or residency) who, without encouraging incentives in the medical environment, retained the aspiration to be humane physicians who care deeply for their patients and who bring a strong social conscience to the practice of medicine.
Fifth, during the last and most tragic three years before my first wife died, a very deep spiritual relationship formed with the one individual who was able to be fully/truly present with me – Sheldon Korones, MD. Shelly is Jewish. This relationship has remained central and weight bearing for me to this day. My approach to ethics and spirituality has, from 1985 forward, formed in a way that welcomes and celebrates the affirmation/maturing of my relationship with Shelly.
I have experienced three ways to consider Jewish scripture and Christian scripture in forming life-views, establishing values/aspirations, and making decisions. Imagine a circle representing the ‘religious’ sphere. Two of the three ways are inside this circle; one is outside this circle. Imagine widening circles around three points – i.e., Interpretation #1, Interpretation #2, and Interpretation #3.
I was born and raised with Interpretation #1 (which is located deep within the ‘religious’ sphere) taken for granted. This disposition/approach begins and ends with final authority assigned to Jewish scripture and Christian scripture (including the historical, cultural, and contextual records/expressions of ‘religious’ faith found therein). The received ‘canon’ collection -- also taken for granted -- is considered the authoritative text for cosmology, scientific questions, political decisions, history, marriage/family, sexuality, social laws/mores, . . . (essentially the equivalent of a set of educational texts for a school curriculum). The interpretation of Jewish scripture and Christian scripture is assumed to be clear and without ambiguity. My public school experience – though hardly cutting edge in rural West Kentucky – revealed other views to me as a youth and planted questions in my mind re Interpretation #1.
By the time my first wife had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (1973) and I had begun graduate studies (1974), I had moved to Interpretation #2 – variations of which are also located within but toward the outer edge of the ‘religious’ sphere. This disposition/approach also begins and ends with final authority assigned to Jewish scripture and Christian scripture. However, the results of critical scholarship re historical, cultural, and contextual records/expressions of faith found therein alter what is considered normative or feasible. Interpretation is seen to be far more complicated. More and more exceptions to the conclusions of Interpretation #1 arise. Interpretation #2 moved me far from the ‘religious’ tradition in which I was raised. I found examples of Interpretation #2 as early as Origen of Alexandria in the history of Christian thought, though Interpretation #2 did not become a clearly defined alternative until well into the 19th century in response to the rapidly expanding results of scientific inquiry.
By our 1992 move to Vermont, I had moved to Interpretation #3. Other than Bonhoeffer’s prison correspondence, I had found no direction for Interpretation #3 (which is located outside/beyond the ‘religious’ sphere). Interpretation #3 begins and ends with observation and judgment in the concrete ‘present’ of life experience as understood (1) from the perspective/angle of alignment with the most vulnerable and existentially threatened/ing individuals and (2) with foundational weight given to insights into life experiences gained through ‘from below’ inquiry. Jewish scripture and Christian scripture are considered seriously in my peripheral vision and through this two-dimensional ‘grid’. My movement toward Interpretation #3 was prompted/sustained from five directions:
First, I matured into a historian who consciously and intentionally inquires into a subject/question without predetermined paradigm allegiances (in contrast to the ‘confessional historians’ who are permitted/sanctioned within societal spheres including but not limited to the ‘religious’ sphere). The earliest evidence of this approach to historical inquiry I remember is a 1974 conversation I had with a fellow graduate student. We were both enrolled in a ‘Critical Introduction to the New Testament’ course. It was my second graduate course. My research topic was to study the “that it might be fulfilled” sayings in the Gospel of Matthew. In a conversation about the implications of our research for viewing Jewish scripture and Christian scripture as inspired, the student (name long since forgotten) told me he intended to make his research fit his already settled view of inspiration. I told the student it would be the reverse for me – i.e., that my thought about the inspiration of Jewish scripture and Christian scripture would be altered by the results of my research. A couple of years later, I read for the first time David Fischer’s Historians’ Fallacies. I have since worn out several copies reinforcing my caution and resolve as a historian. Soon after the exchange, I accepted that every attempt at historical interpretation is ‘a history’, never ‘the history’. Since that time, every historical question/subject has remained open to further examination.
Second, the experience with my first wife (d. 1987) as she fought multiple sclerosis opened my eyes to the breadth and depth of human suffering. In graduate classes I taught (1979-92), I had students do their assignments in hospital waiting rooms or other such settings rather than in a library or at dormitory desks in order to expose them to my conclusion that human suffering is the place/angle from which to think about ethics and spirituality. Since that time, it has been of highest priority for me to be so positioned when thinking about ethics and spirituality.
Third, I first read Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s prison letters in Spring 1976 and soon embarked -- oriented by his analysis -- on a radical (i.e., to the root) critique of ‘religion’. My critique of ‘religion’ – which remains ongoing – eventually resulted in the discrediting of ‘religion’ as a reliable paradigm or sphere within which to think about ethics and spirituality.
Fourth, my friendship and collaborative relationship with Tom Elkins, MD, began in the early 1980s an expanding opportunity to be present inside the medical sphere with medical students, residents, academic physicians, and practicing physicians. I quickly felt (and continue to feel) accountable for the authenticity and justification of every word/thought I express in their midst (a level of accountability that far exceeds the level of accountability I had experienced within the ‘religious’ sphere). Also, a deep collegiality/fellowship developed with a circle of physicians (some while they were still in medical school or residency) who, without encouraging incentives in the medical environment, retained the aspiration to be humane physicians who care deeply for their patients and who bring a strong social conscience to the practice of medicine.
Fifth, during the last and most tragic three years before my first wife died, a very deep spiritual relationship formed with the one individual who was able to be fully/truly present with me – Sheldon Korones, MD. Shelly is Jewish. This relationship has remained central and weight bearing for me to this day. My approach to ethics and spirituality has, from 1985 forward, formed in a way that welcomes and celebrates the affirmation/maturing of my relationship with Shelly.