In discussing the general subject of Scripture interpretation, we have contemplated, in certain points of view, the two opposing theories respecting the perspicuity and intelligibility of the Bible. In order to keep these theories clearly before the mind, we will here briefly state them.

      The one is, that the Scriptures possess in themselves an absolute and necessary power to make themselves understood, wholly irrespective of the state or character of the mind to which they are presented. In this view, no preparation of mind or heart is supposed at all necessary to the reception of the truths of revelation. All minds are, at all times, fit for their reception. Everybody has "ears to hear," and to hear, is at once to comprehend. It is supposed that the Scriptures, independent of the nature of the subjects which they present, and even of the attention that is paid to them, have the power to reach [201] and control the understanding and the affections, and all influences of every sort which may be thought by others requisite or even conducive to these ends, are accordingly contemned. There are, it is true, a great many different degrees and phases of this doctrine; from the time at which it first modestly displays its horns, in the haze of the western horizon, to that at which, like another satellite, high in the zenith, it reveals its full-orbed face unveiled. But we prefer to state it, and to consider it, as it is really and essentially, free from those reticences and ambiguities by which it is so often rendered misshapen or obscure. It is a necessary consequence of this view that to a proper understanding of the sacred writings, ignorance is just as conducive as knowledge, and that neither learning, nor talent, nor disposition, nor attention; in short, that no gifts, either natural or acquired, contribute any thing whatever to their interpretation. And the practical effect of it is, that the untaught and unstable, glad to receive and cherish a doctrine which places them upon a fancied equality with those of superior attainments and abilities, adopt the most crude and imperfect notions of religion, and adhere to them so much the more tenaciously, as they are, in their opinion, the evident doctrines of the word of God, of which they are themselves competent and authorized expositors. Such individuals are readily recognized by the vanity and confidence with which they propound their half-formed tenets, and the dogmatic intolerance, and procacity with which they at once begin to controvert the views of others.

      The other theory is, that the written word is a dead letter, having no power or tendency whatever in itself to act upon the human mind. Nothing can secure this result but a direct and independent operation of the Holy Spirit, which, it is supposed, can and often does, without the word, enlighten, convince, and convert the soul. Here, equally as in the other view, the state of mind is a matter of indifference, and all human aids which might be thought favorable to the object, such as learning, or natural ability, or purity of purpose, or earnestness of desire, or application, are absolutely unavailing. The wise know not God by their wisdom, nor do the prudent attain salvation by their vigilance, nor do the earnest secure to themselves a knowledge of the truth by strenuous perseverance. It is an instantaneous effect, produced by special supernatural power, whose exercise depends wholly upon the sovereign will and pleasure of the Deity. The natural tendency and the actual effect of this doctrine is that the written word is neglected and its teachings disregarded,, and that the supporters of the theory are characterized more by the unsettled state of their feelings, than by the clearness of their views of Christianity; that they are more superstitious than religious; and far better oneirocritics than interpreters of Holy Writ. [202]

      It is in opposition to both of the above theories that we have endeavored to show the perspicuity of the Scriptures is relative, and that a variety of influences nay and do contribute to a proper comprehension of their meaning. We have already, we trust, in some degree, exhibited the importance of a proper state of mind--a suitable preparation of heart for the reception of the truth--and have briefly stated some objections to the popular doctrine which requires that this preparation of heart, or that spiritual discernment necessary to the just perception of Scripture truth, shall be invariably referred to "a special internal and efficient operation of the Holy Spirit."

      We have not thought it necessary, at present, directly to controvert this theory. It has been deemed sufficient, in relation to the general subject of Scripture interpretation, to object to it as an unauthorized mixture of opinion with faith, an unnecessary introduction of the question of the mode in which prayer for wisdom is answered, and an undue restriction of divine agency to one precise and unvaried channel. It ought to be sufficient for the Christian to inculcate belief in the statements, and trust in the promises of Scripture, without insisting upon the addition of any theoretic view of the manner in which they are to be fulfilled.

      We regard it, however, important to consider a little more fully the opposite notion, that the Scriptures possess in themselves an absolute intelligibility; and to exhibit the nature of those influences which are indispensable to a proper understanding of the things which they are designed to reveal. It is essential here that words be rated at their true value. This, indeed, is the very question in dispute. One party underrates; the other, overrates their power. The former supposes that,, he word alone does nothing; the latter imagines that it accomplishes everything. Between such conflicting extremes, calm and impartial investigation may discover the happy medium of reason and truth.

      That the power of words to communicate ideas depends upon the capacity to understand them, is a matter so obvious that it requires no argument. And this capacity is, by no means, always given by a knowledge of the individual words employed to communicate the thought. There are many who, while they are willing to agree that we must understand the words in order to comprehend the thought, will by no means admit that we can fail to grasp the thought after having this acquaintance with the words employed to convey it. With them, each word has a certain determinate value, and it is only necessary to add together these separate values to have the true result. Words, however, are somewhat like numbers, whose value in combination is very different from that which they possess individually and alone. They are not, indeed, always affected by relative position to [203] the same extent, or in the same manner as numbers, but every one, at all conversant with language, must be aware how much depends upon the arrangement of words, and how readily the meaning of a sentence can be changed, and even reversed, by a slight alteration in the order of its words, without making any alteration in these words themselves. Hence it requires the largest acquaintance with language; the most highly cultivated powers of thought, and the greatest delicacy of perception, to determine, with accuracy, the proper signification of the phrases and various combinations into which language may be wrought. The determination of these points involves often the exercise of the very highest powers of the human mind, and the utmost labor of research, and it is therefore the error of ignorance to suppose that a mere knowledge of the words will necessarily communicate the ideas intended to be conveyed. A knowledge of the words is, indeed, necessary; but often much more than this is necessary; and it is this which the friends of the theory above mentioned seem to have wholly overlooked.

      Again, there are many who seem to imagine that human language is a perfect medium of the communication of thought. But this is very far from being the case, even when the language is thoroughly understood. Different languages differ, indeed, in this respect, as they vary in copiousness and in delicacy of structure. Thus the translator of the noted passage (Matt. xvi. 18), "I say unto thee that thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church," may well complain of the imperfection of our English tongue, as compared with the Greek, because he finds it impossible to express, in the former, the distinction between "Peter" and "rock," so admirably exhibited in the latter by the differences of termination of the words Petros and petra. Not only is the allusive force and beauty of the passage wholly lost, in our language, by the want of resemblance between "Peter" and "rock," but an ambiguity is introduced which does not exist in the original, and which, depending merely upon two or three letters, is, nevertheless, foundation enough for St. Peter's and the Popedom. Thus, also, there are many delicate shades of thought which may be expressed in the French language, but not in the English. But there is no human language which can perfectly reveal all the thoughts and workings of the mind.

      Written language is, in this respect, especially defective, as compared with that which is spoken. The changes of the voice, the emphasis and intonations of the speaker, will render his meaning clear, when his words alone will not express it. We feel this deficiency of written language often in the scriptures, and more especially in that most important portion of them in which our Lord's discourses are recorded. These were spoken, and when thus delivered by our [204] Lord in person, were as different from those handed down to us in writing, as the living form is different from the skeleton. Hence much of the force and meaning of his language is wholly lost to the reader, who is either too superficial to penetrate the parchment veil, or too dependent upon naked arbitrary signs, to pass beyond their mere literal import. Of this we might adduce many examples were it necessary, but we will here for illustration only refer to a very simple incident in the interview between Jesus and Mary after the resurrection, recorded by John (chap. xx. 15, 16): "Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?" She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, "Sir, if thou hast borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away." Jesus saith unto her, "Mary." She turned herself and saith unto him, "Rabboni." Here, the mere utterance of a single word, "Mary," and that word, too, a mere proper name, and wholly insignificant as regards the subject then before the minds of the speakers, at once penetrates the heart and understanding of the person addressed, and pours a flood of light and conviction upon her mind. But by the simple written words the reason of this sudden and wonderful effect is not at all expressed; nor is it possible to perceive it even when the passage is read aloud in the usual monotonous and inexpressive style of common readers. He saith unto her, "MARY." Oh! how much was due to that gentle intonation; to that expressive accent; to that peculiar and affectionate utterance with which that single word was spoken. How that soft inflection of the voice could make that word speak a meaning which was not in it; and reveal a fact of whose communication to others it could form no part! That word of itself states nothing; explains nothing; reveals nothing; but the tone in which it is pronounced, states all; explains all; reveals all. What a crowd of convictions rush upon the soul of the Magdalene! What a flood of emotions fill her heart! It is the Lord! He is risen from the dead! He is alive again who delivered me; who died for me! My Lord! my teacher! my all! All this, and more than this, she feels, and all this, and more than this, she utters; not, indeed, in the written word "Rabboni,"¹ the single word, that with all the propriety of language, of truth and nature and feeling, is the sole reply; but in the deep affection, the reverence and joy with which that word was uttered.

      It is most evident, indeed, that language, when oral, is much superior to that which is written, as a means of communicating ideas. The inferiority of the latter, however, arises not merely from its inability to represent by signs the various inflections of the voice which give such force and point to spoken language, but from the absence also of those gestures which are so usual and so important an accompaniment [205] of the latter. The want of these, to a reader, renders many passages obscure, which were clear as a sunbeam to those who heard and saw the speaker. We may take a single example of this from the very next chapter of John: "So when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me more than these?" (xxi. 15). The question here is: To what did our Lord refer by the word "these"? Grammatically, it may apply to the other disciples present, or to the boats and fishing implements. Papists will adopt the first view, because, in the use they make of it, it serves to bolster up the supremacy of Peter and the Pope. Protestants will receive the latter, because it implies a deserved reproof to Peter for having for a time forsaken his spiritual duties, to return to his old employment of fisherman. Both of these views are constructive, neither being expressed in the words; but they who heard the question, were at no loss to determine the precise meaning, as they could see the gesture by which our Lord pointed out the precise objects to which he referred.

      It may thus be readily perceived how great are the disadvantages under which we labor in the interpretation of the records of the past, and how far written language really is from possessing any absolute or necessary power of communicating thought.

[ROBERT RICHARDSON.]      

Source:

Robert Richardson. Extract from "Interpretation of the Scriptures.--No. VII." The Millennial Harbinger 19 (October 1848): 543-549.

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