Hello,

I finished reading Peter Leithart’s book Deep Exegesis last week, and it rocks. If you are interested in learning how to read your Bible well, I highly recommend this book as a place to start.

Leithart’s method is not universally accepted, but I think it makes sense. Without the book in front of me (I lent it to Kerry), let me try to explain his thesis. In fact, let me just trace his argument by chapter, since there are only six, and I think they’re great. I’m not going to discuss each chapter, but just try to whet your appetite.

The Text is a Husk– in Chapter One, Leithart explains what he believes to be the modern exegetical method, which arose shortly after the Enlightenment and depends on separating the spiritual truth of the text from the method in which it is communicated. Never mind talking about poetry or history or any such linguistic or literary features of the text- what nugget, what kernel of truth can be derived? Leithart thinks this is a bad idea.

The Text Is An Event– in this chapter Leithart argues that because texts are written in time, they have to be read in time. In other words, because John is written after Isaiah, which is written after Deuteronomy, we need to read John with Isaiah and Deuteronomy in mind. Just as we read Virgil with Homer echoing in the background, so we need to read more recent texts in light of earlier ones.

Words Are Players– Leithart argues (and I’ll do some arguing of my own here in a later post) that words in texts have a sort of life of their own. They dance around each other, giving context and layered meanings to other words. It is up to the insightful and imaginative exegete to see the dance for what it is and interpret it thusly.

The Text Is A Joke– I already wrote about this chapter, so I’ll sum up- because texts are events, and later texts refer to earlier texts, much of what is intended in these later texts depends upon what is not said, in the same way that jokes depend upon what is not said, but inferred or called to mind. Responsible exegetes diligently follow the unspoken trail of words not said.

Texts Are Music- Just as music is unique among art-forms in that it cannot be taken in at one glance, but must be listened to over a period of time, so the text must be read to discern the melody out of the flow of words. And just as music has repeated themes and interwoven melodies, so the text has repeated themes and interwoven meanings and stories inside a single passage.

Texts Are About Christ- The text always bears witness to Christ in some form or fashion. Not all texts speak of Christ to the same degree or in the same way, but all speak of Christ. The task of the exegete is to see Christ in the text.

I have some questions about the book, and some reservations as well, but all in all, I think this is a must-read.

-Daniel

Hello,

Since much of what I would’ve written about Isaiah 6 went up this morning at Trinity House, I think I’ll probably just expound one more point from the text tomorrow, and that’ll be the end of it.

Right now I’m reading the last chapter of Peter Leithart’s  Deep Exegesis, a fantastic book. I wanted to share a little something he wrote about intertextuality.

In Chapter 4, “The Text Is a Joke,” Leithart tells us a joke:

A priest, a rabbi, a nun, a doctor, and a lawyer all walk into a bar. The bartender says, “What is this, a joke?” (Leithart, 113)

Haha.

What makes this funny? Leithart says “the joke depends on a confluence of two joke traditions: jokes about diverse religious figures or professionals on the one hands, and jokes about barroom conversations on the other” (Leithart, 113). If you aren’t familiar with these joke traditions, then the bartender’s insight in perceiving that he is in a joke fails to connect. Leithart points out that the joke depends upon what is not said.

Scripture, he argues, acts in the same way. When Matthew records for us that Jesus cried out on the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46), he does not continue on to say that Jesus was quoting Psalm 22. We must go outside the text to see it, and if we don’t see Psalm 22 in Jesus’ last words, we didn’t get it.

But there’s more.

Let’s say you and I plan to take a walk in the park to enjoy the sunshine, and as we’re getting our shoes on to go, we hear the boom of thunder followed by the sound of a million little raindrops. I look over at you and say, “The best laid schemes of mice and men,” and we decide to watch John Malkovich make a fool of himself instead.
How is my comment to you relevant in any way? What do mice have to do with anything? Our plan could hardly have been called a scheme, and much less one best laid. Yet when I said what I said, you nodded in silent agreement as though you understood perfectly what I meant.

If you went to high school, you probably had to read Steinbeck’s novella Of Mice and Men, and if your teacher was any good, she probably had you read the Robert Burns poem off of which it was based. So, you remembered not only the full phrase of which I quoted only a part (“The best laid schemes of mice and men/Go often awry”), but you also knew the context in which it was originally said, and so you recognized that I was simply lamenting our disrupted afternoon plans with a poetic allusion. What’s important here is that I relied on you to know the context in order for my lament to be understood. My communication depended on what wasn’t said, and it depended on you filling in the rest.

Reenter Psalm 22.

Even in the agony of death, Jesus is the true prophet, the greatest teacher in Israel, and so his words aren’t without meaning. Read the rest of Psalm 22 with the crucifixion in mind and it becomes plain that Jesus was affirming both that it was “necessary for the Christ to suffer these things” (Luke 24:26, see Psalm 22:16-18) and that he would rise from the dead (Psalm 22:22-26). In fact, in referencing Psalm 22 Jesus proclaims that his is a salvation for all nations and all generations (vv 27-31). Jesus knew his audience would know the Psalms, and with one breath he preached the whole of the gospel message. This line which initially seemed tragic turns comic when we realize that Jesus may have said verse 1, but he meant the whole Psalm.

Jesus knows that the best jokes involve misdirection and surprise, and so what seems a cry of defeat turns out to be a shout of victory. What a great joke.

-Daniel