A. K. M. Adam

by Joel Green in Review of Biblical Literature
(see http://www.bookreviews.org/bookdetail.asp?TitleId=5487)

Adam’s latest book rests at the confluence of a number of streams, including advances in
reader-reception theory, dissatisfaction with historical criticism’s claim to provide the
singular and definitive meaning of biblical texts, the regnant hermeneutical model’s
insistence that a text houses its own meaning, and renewed interest in the theological
interpretation of the Bible within those communities that turn to it for religious
sustenance. To those who fear that the inescapable alternative to “technical biblical
interpretation” (a.k.a. historical-critical scholarship) is hermeneutical chaos or barbarism,
Adam observes, first, that historical criticism has proven itself unequal to the task of
promoting theological readings of Scripture. Second, he avers that, given the misleading
presuppositions of the standard biblical hermeneutics characterizing the twentieth
century, this failure is only to be expected. Third, the way forward for Adam is marked by
admitting that readers, not texts, produce meaning; by making room for a plurality
(although not an infinite number of) plausible interpretations of a text; and by recognizing
that “the legitimacy of an interpretation is determined by the body of readers evaluating
it” (60). Good interpretation is thus known by its ethics rather than by its “cool reason.”
Those who have followed Adam’s publications elsewhere will find few surprises here, as
each of the book’s eight chapters has already appeared in print, whether in journals or
edited volumes. What is remarkable, though, is the way these chapters participate in a
common conversation, demonstrating the lengthy incubation of Adam’s focused thinking
on these matters. Chapter 1 is programmatic in its hard-hitting criticism of “modern
biblical theology,” particularly its defining premises, not the least of which are its
presumption of discontinuity between the biblical past and the church’s present (which
overlooks “the fact that when a text has been interpreted every day for over nineteen
centuries, there will be important continuity of interpretation” [28]) and its paradoxical
aversion to theology. Biblical theology must be rethought from start to finish, according
to Adam, substituting ethical criteria (“Can we live by this biblical theology?”) for
historical criticism as its definitive authority. Chapter 2 carries forward this assault on the
supposed historical foundations for biblical theology by countering Ernst Käsemann’s
argument that historical criticism is required as a prophylactic against christological
docetism. Historical inquiry, according to Adam, cannot speak to us about the divinity of
Christ, so the antidote to docetism is “a resolutely Chalcedonian Christology” (13). Adam
concludes, “One may have intellectual reservations about the value of historical criticism
without thereby running the risk of heresy” (55). Chapter 3 comprises a third foray into
hermeneutics, with its two-edged argument that readers, not texts, make meaning and
that the inherently social and ethical character of interpretation shields against willy-nilly
readings of texts. Set against the backdrop of a century or more of hermeneutical
theorizing, Adam’s claim is breathtaking: “The constraints upon textual interpretation do
not derive from the nature of understanding, or of texts, or of language, or of
communicative intent, or of truth, or of speech-acts, but always only from the sundry
collocations of circumstances within which we formulate interpretations and judgments”
(59).
The fourth chapter concerns itself with the supposed anti-Jewish character of the Gospel
of Matthew, providing Adam with an effective case study for his emphasis on the readerly
generation of meaning (and the responsibility this entails). In the fifth chapter he returns
to a more theoretical focus, arguing for a “differential hermeneutics” (which locates
meaning in human interaction, with the result that different interpretive outcomes are
only to be expected as signs of the pluriform character of the human imagination) over
against an “integral hermeneutics” (which assumes for each text a singular, correct
meaning). “As parts of the body are not all eyes, feet, hands, or nose, so interpretations of
Scripture are not all historically warranted assertions about the original intent of a human
(or divine) author, nor is interpretive differentiation any more a result of sin than is
corporal differentiation” (99). Chapter 7 exemplifies Adam’s “differential hermeneutic”
with its examination of the interpretation of the “sign of Jonah” in the sayings of Jesus in
the Gospels. Chapter 6, on the other hand, spells out further the ethical focus of the
church’s interpretive work, emphasizing interpretations that generate forms of Christian
discipleship resembling the life of Jesus, whereas chapter 8 engages a similar agenda, this
time with reference to human sexuality and hallowed relationships.
For this book, Adam has provided a newly written epilogue, which serves to draw together
the various emphases of the preceding chapters by introducing the language of “signifying
practice” to describe theological exegesis. Interpretation accordingly points beyond itself
to “the end of articulating the understanding of the gospel in a lived expression” (156).
Such interpretation would find a home in diverse media (art and drama, for example, as
well as texts), concern itself with the pastoral implementation of exegetical work, be open
to the whole people of God and not only to its most trained students of the Bible, and
account for the multiple influences from the whole of lived experience on our exegetical
work.
The significance of Adam’s work lies especially in two areas. First, he is unrelenting in his
confrontation with “technical biblical interpretation,” against which he has assembled a
vigorous phalanx of pointed and well-honed questions. The effect is not necessarily to
undo the work of historical inquiry in biblical studies but rather to unseat historical study
in its role as the only or decisive criterion for legitimating a particular reading of a biblical
text. Second, Adam has lent considerable support to an emerging interest in taking
seriously the effects of our hermeneutical work, that is, the importance of embodiment
and ethical comportment.
As important as these contributions are, I cannot help but wonder where Adam’s proposals
leave us on any number of issues. Let me mention four. (1) We might appreciate his
securing so central a place for the reader and readerly community in biblical interpretation
but still wonder what status is to be given biblical texts. What role will Adam allow for
philology, grammar, and the bread and butter of discourse analysis? To put it differently,
in the adjudication of possible interpretations, what status do “the words on the page”
have? (My guess is that Adam would answer, “Much, in every way,” with the caveat that
these words have only the status granted them by readers and readerly communities, but
in conversations about validity in theological interpretation I doubt that this is enough.)
(2) What role, if any, does historical analysis have in biblical interpretation? We might
agree that the work of historians is neither sufficient nor decisive but still wonder in what
sense might Adam say that historical work is necessary, if at all. Does our recognition of
these texts as in some sense cultural products constrain how (or what) they might be
made to mean? (3) The same set of questions can be raised regarding the status of these
texts—say, Obadiah or Matthew—on account of their home for Christians within the
two-Testament canon. Does “canonical location” constrain meaning in any discernable
way?
(4) What is for me one of the most ambiguous aspects of Adam’s hermeneutical proposal
is the identity of the community whom he endows with the interpretive task—and,
indeed, with interpretive authority. I think he is concerned especially with particular, local
communities. Sometimes, though, he seems to want to talk about what we might call a
communion of churches (thus his reference to the Episcopal Church and House of
Bishops in his discussion of human sexuality), and in a handful of places he apparently
thinks of the one church across time and around the globe. My sense is that Adam’s
proposal as a theological hermeneutic cannot afford ambiguity on this point. If, as he
says, “the legitimacy of an interpretation is determined by the body of readers evaluating
it” (60), what are we to make of the fact that the constraints placed on interpretation on
any number of points are altered in substantial ways depending on the identity of the
“body of readers” evaluating a particular interpretation. If the “body of readers” is the
“one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church,” for example, then we find room for
“differential interpretation” on a wide array of matters but at the same time recognize that
certain readings championed by a more “local body of readers” have been and are
excluded. How can Adam account for the reality that the “bodies of readers” that
comprise the church are many but one?
In short, there is much to commend in Adam’s diagnosis of the situation faced by persons
and communities interested in theological interpretation. For someone who aims in his
theological hermeneutic “to tell the truth about God and humanity” (3), however, Adam
has not satisfactorily addressed the problem of how to adjudicate among not merely
different but indeed competing and mutually exclusive interpretations.… (altro)