The Widening of God’s Mercy - My Reflections, Part 2
Or, Why so literal?
Part 2 of 4
In my first essay, responding to The Widening of God's Mercy by Hays and Hays, I narrowed their thesis down to "God changes God's mind, so we can too." I admit this is an oversimplification of their work to make discussion manageable. Hays and Hays take a creative approach to demonstrate their hearts for caring for those harmed by restrictive and even abusive applications of the scriptures. Again, I applaud their desire and efforts. I simply am not much persuaded by the argument that God changes his mind as the way to go. I agree with Dr. Beth Felker Jones saying, "the authors don't even need [the premise] to advance their thesis." I would find their account for what they call full-inclusion of LBGTQ people to be stronger if it was based solely on their personal experiences. However, I find it problematic to say that God changes God's mind in the manner they do.
I suggested three concerns or questions about the Hayes' argument. This essay will explore my first question around the seemingly literalist interpretation Christopher Hays uses to demonstrate that God changes God's mind. As a counter to a literal interpretation of God changing, I will suggest some alternative interpretations.
Why So Literal?
Christopher Hays shares many familiar Old Testament stories to demonstrate God's changing. I found this approach surprising. Sincerely, I was surprised by this. Perhaps this demonstrates my lack of experience in Old Testament studies or hermeneutics. Of all the possible ways one could interpret the passages Hays references, a literal rendering was not what I expected. Rather than exploring how to hold together the complexities of God's seemingly paradoxical descriptions in the scriptures, Hays flattens them with a literal interpretation. Would he do the same if looking at any Old Testament "clobber passages?" I certainly hope not!
The literal interpretation does not seem to account for the range of meaning of the Hebrew words or the way language works analogically when applied to God as opposed to humans. For example, the goodness of my dog (Mr. Tumnus) is not the same as the goodness of God. While both have been referred to as "good," Mr. Tumnus' goodness is not of the same kind as God's. And if you have met Mr. Tumnus, you would know this to be true. For a very clear articulation of this point, go to Analogy School.
All this to say, for the scriptures to say God changes (assuming that is how you interpret the word nacham) God's mind, this change does not mean the same as a human changing. Is it the same kind, or is our changing something different? To describe God as being like humans, or even gesturing to it somehow, seems off to me.
Hays seems to interpret the scriptures literally without much consideration of genre, human voice, cultural linguistics, and contextual details. For example is Adam and Eve's account in the Garden of Eden. Hays claims that God changed his mind by not having Adam and Eve immediately die when they ate the fruit (Gen 2:17; 3:21).1 Hays states that because Adam and Eve did not immediately die as God had promised, this is evidence that God changed his mind–offering them covering their shame through animal skins instead of killing them immediately. But is this the only (or even best) interpretation? Honestly, I find this literalist interpretation quite unconvincing. To arrive at it would assume much about how we read Genesis in particular and the Scriptures in general. Hays does not appear to account for genre, symbolism, imagery, or many other interpretive aspects.
Rather than concluding that God changed, there are other interpretive options for why the story does not have Adam and Eve die on contact. The story of the fall could be seen as a narrative account of the brokenness of the relationship between God and humankind. A description of how, in seeking to usurp God's good rule and reign over creation, the first humans desired to be autonomous beings, separated from their source, from themselves, from each other, and from the land. The actions of these first humans embodied a belief in the delusion of autonomy. A belief that they (we) can determine right and wrong, good and evil apart from the good care of God. This pursuit of autonomy actually led to their separation and the fragmentation of all creation. This separation is a literal and figurative form of death. However, unlike the literal eat-the-fruit-and-immediately-die interpretation of Hays, the imagery describes how the unwinding of trust and the disorder of communion between God and creation is the insertion of death into the narrative. Could that be an alternative interpretation? God did not spare Adam and Eve, thus changing, but rather, God responded in care and mercy (coverings) toward Adam and Eve even as death began. Much more could be said, but suffice it to say that Hays' literal interpretation, which leads to the conclusion that God changed his mind, seems far more flat and wooden than necessary.
Elsewhere, Hays concludes that because God did not follow through on his threats toward Israel, that is evidence of God changing his mind.2 God’s mercy overcomes God’s threats. But I would contend that God’s mercy was always wider than what the people perceived it to be. And perhaps rather than assuming the threats are literal, what if something more is happening in the text? Let me explain.
What if the threats attributed to God were the author's interpretation or at least filtered through that lens (a subject larger than this essay can cover)? Even if this is an approach one is willing to take, what if the threats attributed to God are meant to see how we respond as much as how we define God? What if the text we seek to interpret was seeking to interpret us too? For example, if we read a text that attributes violence to God, do we hesitate and question how that does not line up with the description of God we have come to know in Jesus? Or, do we accept the coercive threats and violent acts attributed to God as "just the way that it is?" Rather than concluding that God is violent (or changing) as a literal view might do, could these accounts be an opportunity for the readers and the hearers to find illumination?
In a similar way, consider how God asks questions through the scripture. Does God ask questions because God is uniformed, unaware, and does not know? For example, when God asks the first humans, "Where are you?" (Gen 3:9). Was this question about geographic location? Hide-n-seek? Probably not, since God had already gone to them. God asks questions but not in the same way humans ask questions (really, go to Analogy School). God seems to ask questions not purely to receive information but rather for our revelation. God asks for us to have the opportunity to respond truthfully and return to reality with God and others. The scriptures, I contend, are doing much more good work than a literal interpretation accounts for. I fear that Hays’ conclusion lacks these potential nuances. A flat, literal interpretation leads to conclusions about the nature of God that make God seem more like a fickle and indecisive human than the loving Creator and Sustainer of the cosmos.
Additionally, I wonder if a literal interpretation of Scripture, resulting in God changing his mind, discounts other layers of work the Scriptures might be doing within the listeners and readers today. Is it possible to consider that there could be more going on in the text than just a plain reading would allow? Much like we need not conclude that God called for genocide, we do not have to conclude that God changes his mind regarding the number of Old Testament stories Hays offers.
Even more, I would suggest that an interpretive key for all of the Old Testament is the person of Jesus Christ. As stated above, Jesus offers us the clearer word about what God might be imagining in regard to violence. If Jesus is what God is like, and we do not see violence in Jesus, perhaps we could reconsider how we describe God in the Old Testament?
And perhaps, Jesus is also an interpretive key for us to consider if God is changing God's mind, or what God might change God’s mind about. More clearly, perhaps Jesus gives us some description on what God’s change is like. Does God change everything? Are there any "boundaries" for the width of God's change? It is on this I will reflect in the next essay.
Hays, Christopher B; Hays, Richard B. The Widening of God's Mercy: Sexuality Within the Biblical Story, 46 (Yale University Press. Kindle Edition
Hays, 54.
Fascinating response. I have not read the book yet and so this comment is based only on your reflection without any knowledge of the source material. I became a follower of Jesus in the context of an evangelical group of churches that takes a very literal approach to the Scripture. Our hermeneutic was the kind of hermeneutic that would read your response in part two and say, "O, Gino is a liberal scholar..." I don't believe that now but there was a time that would have been how I responded to your response. My education was at an institution that would have felt very confident that "Genesis says God created them Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve..." as a sound argument from the Text against same sex relationships. So I wonder if the Hays dynasty isn't meeting a group of us evangelicals where we live with this flat or literal reading of the Text? I agree with all the alternative readings you offer and suggestions you make and holes you poke in this reading but - again, not having read the source - I wonder if they aren't simply using the common hermeneutic of many evangelicals that says, "If the Bible says it, I believe it and that settles it"? I think in that evangelical pool I used to swim in, people would be very supportive of your argument against the Hays-es but as soon as you turned the same argument to, say, a literal reading of the Flood narrative, you'd be their heretic. So I find myself agreeing with your hermeneutic for the Bible while I'm left wondering about your hermeneutic of the Hays-es. I'm looking forward to the next installment.