Historicism and Literalism: Strange Bedfellows

For some time I have been considering the thesis that both historicism and literalism emphasize the historical in such a way that said emphasis creates a barrier to significance for each, but in different ways. For this post I will limit my considerations to how this common emphasis is exemplified within Christianity; however, a similar critique may be applicable elsewhere.

Two things should be mentioned before we define our terms. First, I assume both historicism and literalism are employed initially in the understanding and use of the Christian scriptures. So that will be our primary focus; nonetheless, the implications of this initial employment spread out into the various ways the Christian faith is understood and lived.

Also, I assume that these two categories, as we will use them, are somewhat hyperbolic. By that I mean there will not be a one-for-one identification of most individuals and/or groups with these categories as we will define them. Even so these categories, so understood, will help clarify the issues and potential solutions.

I take historicism to refer to that approach to the scriptures that emphasizes the historical context of the scriptures in such a way that any understanding of a given text must be limited to its context and time.

I take literalism to refer to that approach to the scriptures that emphasizes the historical nature of the scriptures in such a way that any understanding of a given text must begin with the belief that said text corresponds precisely with the historical facts as they occurred.

Already we can see the common emphasis on the historical. Tracking the history of this common emphasis would be a fruitful endeavor. Without taking such a route I will simply say that both approaches are the product of modernity and were not in place prior. That is telling, and one might look to various approaches to the scriptures prior to the modern era to see what I intend to show, which is simply that significance (think here: meaning) trumps historicity. I will not take that approach simply because to do so would lend more credence to historicity than I intend to give. So let’s take a, widely speaking, philosophical approach instead.

Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that whatever truths the historicist or the literalist believes as regards the scriptures are primarily historical truths. For the historicist this will mean that she believes certain truths as regards the context and time of the scriptures. She may or may not also hold as true certain events that are related within the scriptures. For the literalist this will simply mean he believes whatever is found in the scriptures in fact happened.

Given this assumption my basic argument is as follows: If all one believes is that something is historically true, i.e. it happened, then it does one no good. Said another way: If all I have acquired from a particular text is a belief that something happened then all I have is a belief that something happened. This may strike us as an existential tautology of the most annoying kind, and it is.

What more is needed then? Well, the precise addition to my historical belief that is needed will be meaning, significance. And this meaning, this significance, will not ultimately depend on my belief that something happened. In fact, as I will argue, if I emphasize the priority of my historical belief, as it were, then that very belief may function as a barrier to my having significant access to meaning.

The problem here is that meaning, significance, always transcends the facts. Meaning, qua meaning, is not a historical fact. This is why the meaning of any given historical fact will vary depending on the one pronouncing on the historical fact. All we have to do is gather all the various books that have been written on the historical Jesus and it will become evident that few, if any of them, agree as to what his life as historical fact means.

That being said, if the meaning of who Jesus was and what he did depended on the facts, as we have them, then there should be widespread agreement as to what that meaning is. But there isn’t such agreement. Hence, the meaning does not depend on knowing or believing the facts.

That conclusion will strike our modern minds as counter-intuitive. But, it did not strike the minds of the ancients in that way. From Origen to Augustine we see a clear recognition that the significance of Christ could not be gleaned from knowing the facts, much less from simply believing them.

In fact the scriptures make things quite easy on us by giving us, in no uncertain terms, the meaning we need. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him” John 3:16-17.

Notice that there is no way we could simply glean this meaning from the facts, as facts. Why is that? Well, this meaning includes God’s intentions as well as a clear statement of God’s love. We might happily guess at such meanings in relation to those facts (that would be highly unlikely, but a wonderful guess nonetheless), but the facts, qua facts, certainly do not make this meaning an obvious inference or implication.

In other words, simply knowing the facts (Jesus lived, died, and rose again) does not communicate to us, in themselves, that we are loved by God or saved through those events. How could we know such things unless we are told in so many words: that is what those facts mean? If we were left to our own resources we would simply end up with any number of books on the historical Jesus claiming any number of meanings.

This brings us back to the priority of historical emphasis found in both historicism and literalism. Assuming for the moment the meaning given above is the intended meaning, how do their respective emphases function as possible barriers to their having significant access to this meaning?

The problem for the historicist is that any meaning she will accept will have to be context embedded. So for instance, she will not give credence to the above meaning as representing in any way God’s intentions or love. On the contrary, she will see the above meaning as simply the meaning assumed by the Johannine community and nothing more.

If she takes her historicism seriously, doing so will always be more than a sufficient defeater for any attempt to believe, based on the above text, that God in fact does love her. In other words, she may believe God does love her but it will not be because it says so in John’s gospel. And if she does believe such, it will always be at risk of believing in spite of having no good historical reason for doing so.

Moreover, she will assume that she, herself, is so historicized that any meaning at all is simply to be explained by antecedent historical facts relative to her and her socio/economic/political context. Sadly, in her most lucid moments she will readily admit that she believes something at any time has happened; but she knows not what or what it might mean. Not only does her historicism function as a barrier to meaning, but also as a barrier to the very facts she places priority upon.

The problem for the literalist is not as complicated as it is for the historicist. The problem for the literalist is that he will assume since he believes Jesus really did die and rise again that he has done all that is needed. He will have access to the above meaning, but it will be secondary to his primary belief in the historical fact. This makes things very easy for the literalist. There is nothing he really needs to do, but believe. In fact he will easily reduce all of the world's problems and solutions to simply those who believe the facts and those who don’t.

To say it a little differently, any meaning or significance for the literalist is settled in his believing the facts. In my humble opinion, it is this settling of any concern for significance through one’s ability to believe a historical fact that has created a kind of Christianity in our culture that has an appearance of power, but is really (sadly) anemic.

What about a solution? At this point the historicist will assume any solution is so contextually embedded that it will not have any transcendent value or application. The literalist will simply assume there is no problem; therefore, no need for a solution. I, obviously enough, disagree.

It seems to me no mistake that having faith is given within the scriptures as the starting point. And I assume by faith we are not to understand it as referring to mere belief, but to understand it as an act of trust (which may include belief in some measure).

But what is it we are to trust? What does it mean to “believe in him?” Without prolonging this post, I assume we are to trust “him” as we do a person. Moreover, we are to trust that God loves us, that “in him” we are not condemned but saved. Now, all of this will require more meaning, and happily that is given to us as well.

The obvious point here is that people are not facts, in the strictest sense of the word. It is true that there are facts about people, and that the notion “a particular person exists” is considered a fact. But, facts do not have intentions towards us. Facts do not love us.

And so the historicist need not balk at the prospect of being asked to believe facts that are not clearly given by the context. She is not asked to trust in facts, but in Someone. And the literalist must not stop at the facts. He must go further and trust in Someone whose expectations involve more than mere belief.

As in any relationship, it always takes time for trust to be established, but once that trust obtains certain facts become known. This is risky business for sure, but Love always Is.