in uniquely wonderful ways. And I am more grateful for my wife with each passing day. Thank you, Ginny, for contributing to this book in so many countless ways. My love, we are teammates for life.
There will come a day when our son can read this book for himself. I pray that our love for him shines around each word like the morning frost on each blade of grass.
Introduction
Otherwise known as my hermeneutical approach
One of my all-time favorite snapshots was taken a few hours after my son’s birth. I am sitting on a hospital sofa, the lines of exhaustion clearly visible on my face, as I smile down at this swaddled bundle held in my hands. These are first-time father’s hands: awkward, anxious, yet deeply attuned. This little one in his knit cap is clearly a wonder to me. My son, Sam, holds his eyes wide open in fierce attentiveness. His brow is furrowed, as if deep in thought. Clearly, I am a marvel to him as well.
In the Gospels of the New Testament, we find snapshots of the teachings of Jesus. As I re-live my first moments with my son in some small way by looking at that favorite picture, we re-consider the kingdom of God each time we encounter an image or story from the Bible. In academic disciplines, this is called the hermeneutical approach, meaning one’s method of interpretation. We study an ancient text in order to learn as much detail as possible about this snapshot and, in turn, about ourselves as interpreters. We allow our reading to speak to our hearts and minds. We offer an interpretation, not only about what we see, but also what we think; not only about what we read, but also what we feel.
This combination of head and heart knowledge is goal of this book; so before we begin, I’d like to briefly explain the theories of interpretation behind Parables of Parenthood.
What is a parable?
As evident in the title, the following chapters consider specific snapshots of scripture called parables. A “parable” is a compound word made up of a Greek preposition (para) that means “beside” and a Greek verb (bole) that means “to throw.”1 Literally the term refers to something that is thrown beside or alongside something else. This basic insight is helpful because it implies an intentional comparison between two or more objects, people, or realities. But I don’t believe Jesus intended to toss things together haphazardly. So then, we must elaborate upon our basic definition by asking, what does a parable do? In other words, how does it affect the reader or listener?
I believe a parable is like a snapshot with a story. The best storytellers encourage their listeners to make connections and allusions, thereby allowing different people to make a version of someone else’s experience a part of their own. The genius of Jesus was the ability to communicate the universe-altering concept of God breaking into this world in such a way that allows us to picture ourselves as a part of the Good News of the kingdom of heaven. In my opinion, this is “what” a parable does; more specifically, a parable invites the opportunity to reflect deeply upon a specific aspect of one’s life alongside other experiences, even in comparison with customs or situations in the distant past.
As Brian Blount noted in the foreword, I love to tell the Jesus story and believe that his parables offer such an amazing invitation. But the distance in time and space between us and first-century Palestine prompts other questions of interpretation. We, too, want to avoid throwing our experience haphazardly alongside the biblical text. Therefore we need to use trusted tools and methods of scholarship.
What is redaction criticism?
A hundred years or so ago, scholars thought the New Testament came into existence more or less like this: Jesus walked around, preaching and teaching in Aramaic; he died without writing anything down; for years, stories about what he did and said were circulated by word of mouth; eventually people realized they needed to record this information because the eyewitnesses to the events were almost all dead. Enter Mark, Matthew, and Luke onto the stage of history. We know little about their lives except their holy vocation. Collectively, they are responsible for the first three books of the New Testament which bear their names.
My hermeneutical approach or method of interpretation begins with this brief summary. The working assumption is that each parable first came from the historical person known as Jesus and then existed for years exclusively in the mouths and memories of people who re-told his words. However, previous theories concerning the creation of the Gospels did not paint a very flattering picture of Mark, Matthew, or Luke. They were considered to be recorders or scribes, merely copying oral tradition or other written accounts that were circulating in their time.
But then, scholars began to question this premise. What if Mark, Matthew, and Luke were smarter than we had originally thought? What if they were skilled theologians? What if they put some thought into the way they arranged and ordered the received traditions about Jesus? And what if the stories and teachings they placed before and after each parable had something to do with their own experience? These questions sparked the creation of a method of interpretation known as redaction criticism.
Redaction criticism is most easily understood by getting inside the head of an editor at a modern newspaper. After receiving articles or reports from a variety of sources, she will double-check the grammar and correct any mistakes. Perhaps a sentence or two could be re-worded. She may also change a few phrases to strengthen or challenge other sections of the same newspaper. This last example suggests that, in addition to minute details, editors consider the larger scope of the publication because the sequence of individual stories affects the reader’s interpretation of the whole newspaper. Certain reports make the front page and others are buried on the last page with the advertisements. Other articles are grouped together around a similar theme. Redaction criticism, then, involves zooming in on particular word choices in a specific parable and then panning back out to consider the overall narrative framework of the Gospel.
This analogy to a newspaper editor also implies that we need to consider the sources that the editors of the Gospels had at their disposal.
What is the Marcan Priority?
The majority of today’s scholars cite a theory known as the Marcan Priority. This obtuse phrase refers to the simple idea that the Gospel of Mark was written before the other Gospels. The inference, then, is that Matthew and Luke used Mark’s version as a reference while compiling their Gospels. While this can’t be definitively proven without a time machine, I’ll cite the rationale that I find to be most convincing: humans being human, our stories tend to grow over time. Over the course of conversation about a particular event, it is inevitable that details are added and arguments are elaborated. You would also expect the story to become increasingly polished the more often it had been told.
This relates specifically to redaction criticism because, first of all, Mark is the shortest Gospel. Secondly, Matthew and Luke follow the basic outline of Mark’s sequence of material, meaning they built upon his narrative plot.2 As we’ll discover, they also refined the language of certain parables. The other two Gospels are more elegant and clear, which suggests they were editing Mark’s Greek. If you imagine Mark as a mannequin, Matthew and Luke have accessorized the original arrangement.
With that metaphor in mind, let’s raise a related point about another source.
What is the Q source?
There are parables shared by Matthew and Luke which are entirely absent from Mark. This provides a kind of reverse argument for the Marcan Priority. It is highly unlikely that, if Mark knew about a poignant teaching such as the Parable of the Lost Sheep, he would have deleted it from his Gospel. The logical conclusion, then, is that Matthew and Luke shared yet another source in common that was likewise unavailable
