If a committee may be defined as “a group of people talking about what they should be doing,” perhaps a scholar should be defined as “an individual writing about what he/she should be doing.”
In other words, does scholarship really matter? Or, is scholarship just an unhelpful way of exercising my mental and digital dexterity?
I am working on a scholarly paper right now, so this is not an academic question for me. (No extra charge for the pun.)
My scholarship focuses on the Bible and related matters that (may) help in understanding the Bible. However, the question that always haunts me is this: Shouldn’t the Bible simply be read and understood, and then either taken seriously or rejected?
Certainly, there are many thoughtful people would argue that these are the two choices. Read it, understand it, and then choose to either take it seriously or conclude that it is an ancient, irrelevant book.
So, as I indicated in the title of this post, I am struggling with a very basic question: What is the point of scholarship?
Biblical scholarship, at least as I see it, deals with two things. On the one hand, biblical scholarship is concerned with understanding the original meaning of the Bible when it was written. The second concern of biblical scholarship is suggesting how we might understand this original meaning today. These two concerns might be encapsulated in two questions:
Biblical scholarship has been good about answering question 1—or at least arguing with other scholars about question 1. We have not been nearly as good about wrestling with question 2.
However, the fact that we haven’t been very good at dealing with the so-what question doesn’t mean that the entire enterprise is a waste of time.
There are two things that help me to remember that what I am doing, and what other scholars are doing, matters. One of those things is my own pastor. He doesn’t claim to be a biblical scholar. However, that says more about his humility than it does about his scholarship.
This past Sunday, for example, he pointed out that the Greek word for compassion is related to their word for “bowels.” He said (quite truly, from my experience) that when you feel real compassion for someone, your guts hurt. He even pronounced the Greek word correctly!
Another thing that I recall whenever I struggle with the apparent futility of biblical scholarship is something that happened when I was fifteen. My dad and I were making several panels to pin up our hogs when we needed to work them into a smaller area for any reason.
My dad cut the first two-by-six boards, and then handed the saw to me. I grabbed a board, and made my first cut. Then, I picked up one of the boards and started to cut another board, but Dad interrupted me.
“Is that the original?” my dad asked.
“Does it matter?” I asked. “Wouldn’t they both be the same size?”
Instead of answering, he grabbed the two boards, the one he had cut originally and the board I had cut. He held them side by side, and one of them was ever so slightly longer than the other.
“That won’t be a problem at first,” he said, but every board you cut will be slightly further from the original. Finally, you won’t be able to make the boards of the panels fit with one another.”
Biblical scholarship, unlike scientific scholarship, does not so much seek to discover new things, as it seeks to continually return to the original meaning. Sermons, teachings, and blogs that do not continually return to the original meaning eventually become meaningless. Scholars and scholarship do have something to contribute after all.
Well, I need to get back to writing my scholarly paper!
“The enemy of the best is the good.” (Jerry Rice and/or Stephen Covey?)
“The enemy of the best and the good is perfectionism.” (Down To Earth Believer)
I had a good day yesterday. I went to a twelve-step meeting, and then hit all three of “my” libraries—CCU, HUC, and the Athenaeum Library at St. Mary’s. Lots of good bibliographic material on Paul’s use of Scripture, Habakkuk, and Romans 1:17! In fact, too much material!
When I was in high school and just beginning to do (more or less) academic papers, I would get several books on whatever topic I was working on, but it was never enough. I would read the books—or at least parts of them. Then I (and my long-suffering Mom) would be up all night putting the paper together the night before it was due. How she put up with me is more than I will ever know.
Research is good. Checking to see what others have said on a given topic is important. However, in my case, this necessary research is out of control, like a resistant mold.
And where does this lust for more resources come from? It comes from my feeling that I really have nothing worthwhile to contribute to the discussion. But, of course, I can point you in the direction of some worthwhile contributions.
So, what is the alternative? To do no research? To just wing it, and say what I think I ought to say?
Perhaps not. Perhaps the right path is the path that threads the needle between two deep ravines. On the one hand, there is overconfidence in my own contributions to the knowledge of God’s Word. In order to avoid falling into this ravine, I do need to do research. My contributions, in order to be good contributions, need to be at least somewhat aware of the contributions of others.
However, the ravine I’m more likely to fall into is the “I-haven’t-read-all-the-relevant-materials-so-how-can-I-possibly-make-a-contribution” ravine. If I am to avoid falling into this error, I need to be humble enough to admit that I will never know “enough.” (For me, “enough” means everything.)
Ironically, humility is the antidote to both of these errors, because (ironically) both of these deep ravines are a result of pride. If I think that I can make a worthwhile contribution without consulting others, that is a complacent form of pride. However, complacent pride is still pride.
And if I think that I have nothing of my own to say, that is a form of false humility. And false humility is just pride that disguises itself in rags of its own making.
So, today, by the grace of God, I will read some of the contributions of others to the topic of my scholarly paper. But I will also write down what I think. I will let humility keep me on the path that I need to travel today.
What about you? You may not be a scholar. That is good! If we were all scholars, we would all starve to death. Those of us who are scholars have our own contributions to make. They are neither more nor less important than the contributions of others. But, in what ways can you value the contributions of others, while at the same time valuing and making your own contributions? I dare you to be humble enough to walk that path!
I double-dog dare you!!
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