Review of Reading with the Grain of Scripture by Richard B. Hays

Review of Reading with the Grain of Scripture by Richard B. Hays

Hays, Richard B. Reading with the Grain of Scripture. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2020. 479 pp. $55.00, Hardcover.

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Richard Hays is Professor Emeritus of New Testament of Duke Divinity School. He is the author of several books, one of the most notable being his 1989 Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul. This book is a set of twenty-one essays generally dealing with the subject of hermeneutics, representing something of the capstone of Hays’s career, a highlight reel of both recent writings and others culled from previous decades. They are very much a collection commemorative of an illustrious presence in the field of New Testament studies, with each representing some of Hays’s highest-level writing and strongest argumentation relative to each issue discussed.

The book is divided into four parts, proceeding in stepwise fashion as Hays moves from the groundwork of interpretive method into the person of Jesus himself and how he has been understood by scholars, into Pauline theology, and finally into the broader New Testament as a whole and the theology that characterizes it. The essays, as Hays notes (p. 3), follow six recurrent themes, namely narrative analysis, figural coherence between the Old and New Testaments, the centrality of Jesus’s resurrection, eschatological hope, approaching texts with humility and trust, and the importance of reading scripture within and for the community of faith.

Part one begins with a reflection on the task of interpretation, with four essays addressing the unity and diversity of the scriptural narrative. First, he critically reviews the effects of higher criticism on the idea of unity among biblical texts, and illustrates how texts viewed as disjunctive actually “demonstrate a surprising coherence” (p. 22). Second, he explores the possibility of a renaissance in “theological exegesis”, that is, reading scripture as a person of faith through the lens of faith. He attests that theological exegesis “is a practice of and for the church” (p. 36), which “attends to the literary wholeness of the individual scriptural witness” (p. 37). Third, he discusses the central role of Jesus’s resurrection, noting scholarly engagements with it and explaining how reading in light of the resurrection transforms how a text is understood. Fourth, he elucidates his idea of figural reading, which establishes a connection between two texts in a way that an earlier text signifies not only itself but also a later text, while the later text involves or fulfills the first. This “retrospective…pattern of correspondence” leads to a discernment of an intricate coherence between narratives (p. 74).

In part two, Hays explores the problem of knowing the historical Jesus through three reviews of scholarly approaches and an exceptional essay with his own reconstruction of Jesus. He initially takes on the methodology and conclusions of the “Jesus Seminar”, reflecting that “if Jesus said only the sorts of things judged authentic by the Seminar, it is very difficult to see how he could have been mistaken by Jewish and Roman authorities as a messianic pretender who needed to be executed” (p. 97). Hays then evaluates the methodology and contributions of N.T. Wright, both applauding Wright’s analytical depth and attention to historical context and also critiquing his methodological “over-systemization” (p. 117) and lack of focus on “narrative identity” (p. 119). He then turns to an assessment of Catholic scholarship, providing a mixed review of Cardinal Ratzinger’s treatment of Jesus. Hays applauds Ratzinger’s focus on Jesus’s divine identity, but critiques him for “downplaying the apocalyptic content of Jesus’s message” (p. 126). Lastly, in what is perhaps his strongest essay, Hays proposes his own methodology and guidelines for locating the Jesus of history, attending to the context, narrative logic, representation of Jesus by each of the available sources individually.

Part three includes seven essays on Paul, the first six on theological issues and the last concerning Paul’s relationship to his portrayal in Acts. In his exploration of Paul’s Christology and soteriology, Hays draws attention to the role of narrative. He notes that for Paul, Jesus’s identity is “disclosed in a seamless narrative running from creation to the cross to the resurrection to the eschaton” (p. 151). Similarly, Hays asserts that Paul’s soteriology is “unintelligible apart from a narrative framework” (p. 170). Hays then explores Paul’s apocalyptic thought and how this influences his relationship to Judaism, noting that for Paul, Christ “leads him not to a rejection of Israel’s sacred history but to a retrospective hermeneutical transformation of Israel’s story” (186). Hays’s intertextual emphasis also comes out in three essays dealing with Romans, in which he examines Paul’s pneumatology, his attitude toward Torah, as well as his overall approach to Judaism and the place of Israel in God’s plan. In his final essay, he questions the idea of a dissonance between Paul and the Lukan portrayal of him, examining Old Testament references common to both Acts and the Pauline corpus.

The six essays of part four begin with an exploration of the Christology of Revelation, with Hays arguing that the imagery of the book is best grasped through a reading that treats it as an intertextually rich literary whole. Hays then includes two essays in response to other scholars, with the first seeking to refute the idea that Hebrews proposes a supersessionist theology, and the second critiquing Bultmann’s view of Pauline anthropology. This is followed by creative treatments of the different roles of law both in the Old Testament and in modern society, as well as a reading of Romans in tandem with the Nicene Creed, noting confessional elements linking the ecclesiology of both. Hays finishes with an essay on the importance of eschatology for understanding scripture, and how a biblical perspective on eschatology can be distinguished from cultural aberrations and perversions.

Hays concludes with an encouraging call to move from a hermeneutic of suspicion to a “hermeneutic of trust”, which he defines as “a way of seeing the whole world through the lens of the kerygma”, a posture of reading and exegesis which relies on God in the midst of mystery and yet-unfulfilled hopes (p. 399). One of Hays’s greatest strengths is his winsome but rigorous way of analyzing narrative. This is a common theme shining through each essay, whether speaking of the larger theological narrative of the canon or the narrative elements of individual texts. Hays’s emphasis on intertextual relationships also greatly accents an otherwise exemplary collection.

From a critical standpoint, a quibble for some readers will be that a number of essays are dated, and thus do not represent the current state of the field. For example, Hays often engages with scholars like Bultmann and Crossan in a manner reflecting a previous generation of scholarship. Such engagements highlight Hays’s own distinguishment of himself from other scholars but limit the book’s usefulness to contemporary readers. Even so, the essays were substantive, and testify to the difference that his work has made. This book is certainly recommended for those seeking to listen to the resounding voice of a scholar with a high view of the text, and one who holds a balance between churchman and academic. It will make an excellent addition to the library of one who wants to know how biblical studies came to where it is today, and to what foundation it owes its future trajectory.

William B. Bowes

The University of Edinburgh

Review of Mother of Modern Evangelicalism: The Life & Legacy of Henrietta Mears by Arlin C. Migliazzo

Review of Mother of Modern Evangelicalism: The Life & Legacy of Henrietta Mears by Arlin C. Migliazzo

Migliazzo, Arlin C. Mother of Modern Evangelicalism: The Life & Legacy of Henrietta Mears. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2020. Pp. xviii + 338. $29.99, paperback.

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A “human dynamo” for the Lord is how the Christian Century described her in 1950 (p. 253). Recounting the most successful church in the Southwest of the time, First Presbyterian of Hollywood, the Century’s reporter spent about as much time detailing the senior pastor, as it did enchanted by a 60 year-old, bespectacled, matronly-appearing single woman who headed its renowned Christian education program and had the L.A. youth hooked on Christianity: Henrietta Mears. In this first scholarly biography of Mears (1890-1963), we get to see clearly why. Through a rich and vivid chronicle of Mears’s life, Migliazzo, Emeritus Professor of History at Whitworth University in Washington State, offers us deep insight into her personality and an enriched understanding of her multifaceted public ministry. The book deftly and sensitively portrays this remarkable–and previously underappreciated–“architect” (p. 263) at the heart of American Evangelicalism’s transformative mid-century moment. If sobriquets are any index of influence, Migliazzo shows us how, from the 1920s to the 1950s, Mears was, quite simply, Evangelical America’s “Teacher.”

The book’s journey begins with a thoughtful survey of Mears’s upbringing: from her birth in Fargo, SD, to her family’s travels across the upper midwest, to her formation at fundamentalist headquarters First Baptist in Minneapolis, MN, pastored by the legendary William Bell Riley. Especially influenced in her spiritual life by her mother, Mears found her “solace and stability” in the bedrock Christian message and her church community (p. 29). Her intellectual talents carried to the University of Minnesota, where she majored in chemistry and defined a lifelong positive and creative “relationship between Christian faith and the world’s wisdom” (p. 35). Inspired by the evangelistic radio of Paul Rader and the Keswick deeper Christian life spirituality, Mears still strove to conform her life to the maxim, “If He is not Lord of all, He is not Lord at all” (p. 264). Discovering her true calling as an educator, she launched a career as a public school teacher. A pedagogical innovator and popular mentor, she saw holistic learning as the “dynamic development of the conduct and character of the pupil” (p. 37) and demonstrated special talent for coalescing vibrant communal cultures and motivating notable generosity (p. 49). As she grew in renown for administrative acumen, pedagogical ingenuity, and cultural savvy, Mears was recruited to become Director of Christian Education at the massive First Presbyterian in California, where she moved in 1928.

From here, Migliazzo’s biography turns thematic, cataloguing the striking success, multiple elements, and dense networks of influence radiating out from that role. Initially, she vivified the Sunday School, which boomed in zeal and attendance (pp. 280-82). From there, she developed a compelling Christian educational program for all ages, but especially college students. Her program amalgamated a confident exposition of the Bible; a highly relational approach to ministry; an exacting work ethic for Christian leadership and training; elaborate programming; and a “winsome” engagement with the intellectual and cultural questions of the day (pp. 86, 8). Overflowing from stunning success in the local congregation, Mears pioneered wider ministries: Gospel Light Publications distributed Christian educational curricula and resources to a voracious readership around the world (pp. 122-28). Forest Home Retreat Center served as an epicenter for faith-based conferences. All the while, she penned books on spirituality and captivated vast audiences with lectures on how to reach young people with the gospel message. Her classic orientation to the grand scope of the scriptures, What the Bible is All About (1953), sold an estimated 2 million copies by the 1960s in multiple printings.

The crucial argument of Migliazzo’s book is that Mears should be considered at the center of the “evangelical reconfiguration” (p. 10) of mid-century, due to her role in forging extensive coalitions and her ethos in merging an ardently orthodox Christianity with an ecumenical cultural openness. If we see this era’s Evangelicalism as characterized by its delicate balance of a traditional Christian message, call to personal transformation, and its renewed missional impulse to cross boundaries and address new contexts, then surely this major claim is correct. Even when relatively more diffuse, Mears’s wider circle of influence was an astonishing omnibus of crucial, influential Evangelical figures and institutions, demonstrating the seductive pull of elite power in this phase of Evangelical outreach. Mears formatively influenced those from Billy Graham to Campus Crusade for Christ’s Bill Bright to Young Life’s Jim Rayburn to The Navigators’ Dawson Trotman to “Mears’s boys” around the country who became pastors, parachurch ministry leaders, and U. S. Capitol Chaplains. Adding to Migliazzo’s explicit list, she would even be responsible for hiring one of the pastors who helped launch the Jesus People movement.

The book brims with vivid detail and lavish primary textual sources, drawing from an impressive array of archival sources and print publications. Migliazzo has an astute eye for the earthy, granular, and gritty realism of social history: this is a book delightfully chock-full of spitwads, class pennants, chemistry lab explosions, and Bible flannelgraphs. At the same time, he shows an admirable humility in the limitations and parameters of historical epistemology, and what can and can’t be honestly extracted from primary source material. This all leads to a book highly attentive to the idiosyncrasies of its figure and careful about fitting her into any hasty generalizations or tidy narratives. That said, the book can be read as making substantial contributions to two of the more recent, prominent trends in Evangelical historiography: the gender and business paradigms, respectively, even while it challenges the reductionist temptations of both that can flatten Evangelical religious culture to one dimension.

The book overflows from a cascade of impressive studies on Evangelical women: first with the pioneering work of Nancy Hardesty, then into Margaret Bendroth’s Fundamentalism and Gender, Marie Griffith’s God’s Daughters; Julie Ingersoll’s Evangelical Christian Women, Emily Johnson’s This is Our Message, and Kate Bowler’s The Preacher’s Wife. And it is situated within a splendid roll call of biographies that enlarge and enrich the genre, for example, Edith Blumhofer on Aimee Semple MacPherson, Jennifer Miskov on Carried Judd Montgomery, Catherine Brekus on Sarah Osborn, and Amy Collier Artman on Kathryn Kuhlman. These all detail strong Evangelical women who pushed the boundaries of spiritual power, influence, and leadership, even while precariously navigating and deftly negotiating traditional gender roles, restrictions, and expectations. As Migliazzo concludes, “For a theologically conservative female to exert such power seems to fly in the face of conventional wisdom regarding the role of women in the twentieth-century church” (p. 272).

Mears herself exercised immense amounts of power and influence in Evangelical networks, even while adhering to a complementarian, conservative theology about men’s preaching and ordination and while restricting the presidency of her college ministry to men. Migliazzo’s book can be read beneficially in tandem with another of this year’s key Evangelical histories: Kristin Kobes du Mez’s excruciatingly necessary Jesus and John Wayne.  While du Mez’s analysis is essential, it will also be important going forward to note that an exclusive focus on aggressive and destructive masculinity does not exhaust the Evangelical gender story or give a full account of the historical record.

So, Migliazzo’s book exhibits a plethora of merits. There could be some quibbles, nevertheless. Seemingly confining the critical edges to a single chapter of “paradoxes and limitations” towards the end (pp. 221-51) had the downside of giving large swaths of the early parts of the book an impression of potential imbalance. That material could have been beneficially interspersed throughout the narrative. In the chapter, Migliazzo does detail Mears’s human edges of character, habit, and circumstance. But some of these appear meager assessments by that point in the text. The account of race, in particular, is strikingly underwhelming. While, yes, Migliazzo does briefly detail Mears’s problematic views on the subject (pp. 243-47), overall this was analytically anemic. More contextualization could have situated this in the crucial role that racial dynamics have played in Evangelicalism’s relationship to American culture.

At a number of points, Migliazzo tries to sympathize with Mears’s oversights on social issues as pragmatic and lauds her refusal to “politicize the gospel” (p. 264). There is both an aspect of hermeneutical holism to that approach and an encouraging contrast to the emergence of the Religious Right’s combatively political gospel. At the same time, there is an interpretive neglect here of the politics of becoming political and the politics involved in political avoidance. Lastly, Migliazzo might have given more attention to Mears’s singleness. There is a flash of commentary on it (p. 41), but given the primacy of marriage and family values in Evangelical circles, the importance of the single vocation has often been diminished.  Mears exemplifies a vibrant single life dedicated to Christian life and ministry, while many singles have struggled with an awkward status and enigmatic roles given them by the church.

On the whole, still, this is a superb and captivating biography of a crucial figure in the history of American Evangelicalism. It will be essential reading for all students of American church history and religious culture, as well as anyone interested in what a vibrant and influential Christian ministry looked like in the mid-century context.

Daryn Henry

Postdoctoral Research Associate at the University of Virginia