Reading
Matthew 28:16-20 with others:
How it deconstructs our Western concept of mission
Daniel Patte (Vanderbilt
University, Nashville, TN)[1]
Research
Associate: Department of New Testament Studies
Abstract
Matthew 28:16-20 is readily read as providing a key
teaching about “mission.” Its teaching about mission – going, making disciples
of all the nations, baptizing them, teaching them to obey Jesus’ commands – seems simple and clear enough. Yet,
this article aims to deconstruct a Western reading of Mt 28:16-20. This is not in order to denounce the
legitimacy of such an interpretation. Deconstructing the Western reading is
important in order to help us to recognize that there are other equally
legitimate and plausible interpretations, and therefore alternate
understandings of its teaching about “mission.” In response to the cries of
those who suffered from imperialist practices of mission, the article argues
that we might want to choose one of the other practices of the mission, one characterized
by a respect of the “others” and by a commitment to bringing them a news which
will be really good for them.
1. READING MATTHEW “WITH OTHERS”
What do I mean by reading
with Others? I refer to a way of reading inspired by Gayatri Spivak’s post-colonialist
essay, “Can the Subaltern Speak?” (Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty 1988:277-313)
and adapted for biblical studies by Gerald O West (1993:14-17) and Jill Arnett
(1991). Most directly relevant is Spivak’s analysis of the three ways in which
colonialists relate to subalterns: they “speak for them”; “listen to them” (and
appropriate/co-opt what they say); and
exceptionally “speak to[/with] them” (or “read with them”).
Who are these others
with whom one reads? In the spirit of Spivak’s work, they are first of all
those who have commonly been silenced and marginalized. Thus, for me, a male
European-American, reading with others
includes reading with “ordinary” readers from other parts of the world,
eventually by being with them in Africa (
2. A WESTERN,
PROTESTANT READING OF MATTHEW 28:16-20 AND ITS CONCEPT OF MISSION
Reading Matthew 28:16-20 with W. D. Davies and Dale Allison (1997:676-691) is, for me, reading with
scholars who are reading from a place where I no longer am. They are “other”
than me, in that they still frame their interpretation in the Western
Enlightenment paradigm, as most Western European and European-American biblical
scholarship do to this day (see Bonnard1963; Lagrange 1927).
This scholarship is also
largely androcentric (see Patte 1995).[2] Thus, for me,
reading with Davies and Allison is reading
with others.
Recognizing the legitimacy and plausibility of Davies and
Allison’s reading is not difficult for me. As a male European-American
Protestant, I have read Matthew in this way following the many preachers I
heard since my youth and reading with many commentators – first in lay
commentaries, then in scholarly commentaries[3] that I consulted to
ground this reading with appropriate historical-critical and philological
exegetical methods. These exegetical studies involve choosing to focus upon
certain features of the text that are viewed as more significant than others.
For biblical scholars, the legitimacy of this choice is justified by
methodological considerations. But the proliferation of exegetical methods has
shown that it is legitimate to consider different features of the text as most
significant. For instance, a philological exegetical method identifies as most
significant certain features of the text, while, for instance, a form-critical,
a redaction critical, or a narrative exegesis views as most significant other
features of the text. Every critical biblical scholar would readily admit it:
“Yes, I have chosen a particular critical method.” In sum, each (scholarly or
not) interpretation makes what I call analytical-textual interpretive choices.
Yet, scholars also need to acknowledge that they have
chosen to emphasize certain (theological) concepts as plausible centers of the
teaching of the text. These hermeneutical-theological interpretive choices
involve focusing one’s interpretation on certain theological issues about which
one can plausibly say that they are addressed by the text. Thus, in this
article, I choose to focus the readings of Mt 28:16-20 on “mission” and
“discipleship”, with the assumption that this text is dealing with these
theological topics. This kind of choice is readily acknowledged by everyone.
Yet, these hermeneutical-theological interpretive choices also involve
constructing these theological issues in a particular way which makes sense
both for the interpreter and other people in a certain context and for the
interpreter as reader of the text. Hermeneutical-theological choices are less
obvious to the interpreter, because they are often self-evident presuppositions
(pre-understandings), and thus by-pass the critical lenses which would have
made them visible.
For us, male European-American Protestants (or more
generally, members of the
[Matthew] 28:16-20, which was so important to William
Carey and the nineteenth-century Protestant missionary movement, is, from the
literary point of view, perfect, in the sense that it satisfyingly completes
the Gospel: we could hardly improve upon it. Nothing is superfluous, yet
nothing more can be added without spoiling the effect.
(Davies and Allison 1997:687)
In other words, the rest of
the Gospel of Matthew fleshes out whatever this concluding pericope has to say
about mission, but should not be viewed as balancing it or affecting the way it
is understood. For Davies and Alison and all the tradition of interpretation
that they represent, this text is “monoglossal” – or better, using Elaine
Wainwright’s (1998:114) vocabulary, there is no “heteroglossal possibilities of
interpretation.” Together with all this tradition of interpretation, Davies and
Allison affirm that for Matthew “the resurrection [as] the exaltation of Jesus
as Lord of all” vindicates him, revealing that his words and deeds during his
ministry have eternal authority.
The
resurrection is the exaltation of Jesus as Lord of all so that his cause is now
universal: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me; go
therefore and make disciples of all nations.” The resurrection is the end of an
old time and the beginning of a new time: “baptizing them in the name of the
Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” The resurrection is the vindication of
the earthly Jesus, whose words and deeds must be call and command: “Teaching
them to observe all that I have commanded you.” And the resurrection is the act
by which Jesus becomes the ever-present help of his followers: “I am with you
always”.
(Davies and
Allison 1997:688)
Davies and Allison (1997:687-688)
concede that the text is open ended. But for them this means that the readers
can readily assume their place and role in this missionary task:
… it [28:16-20] invites the
reader to enter the story: 28:16-20 is
an open ended ending. Not only does v. 20a underline that the particular man,
Jesus, has universal significance, but “I am with you always” reveals that he
is always with his people … The Jesus who commands difficult obedience is at
the same time the ever-graceful divine presence.
Thus, Davies and Allison, following the 19th-century
Protestant understanding of mission, view Mt 28:16-20 as a complete,
self-contained summary of the Gospel of Matthew: “Nothing is superfluous, yet
nothing more can be added.” Actually, there is not much if anything to explain
in it. A discussion of the relatively few issues debated by Western (male)
exegetes[4] resolves to their satisfaction the
ambivalences of the text. Once these exegetical points are clarified, the
coherence of Mt 28:16-20 becomes clear. For them, the coherent meaning of this
text is anchored on a limited number of key points.
·
It is
clear who those who are commissioned as missionaries are: the eleven disciples
and those like them (28:16-17).
· Davies and Allison (1997:680-681) underscore “Matthew’s precision” (“eleven”), reinforcing this identification.
· It is clear that these [male] disciples-missionaries are people who unconditionally worship, acknowledge, and submit to the resurrected Christ as Lord, and this without any doubt or reservation (28:17 [proseku,nhsan]; 28:18 [pa/sa evxousi,a evn ouvranw/| kai. evpi. Îth/jÐ gh/j).
· For Davies and Allison, the mention of the few exceptions, “some doubted” (28:17), reinforces this point; it simply means that “recognition and then belief come in stages for some.” Davies and Allison (1997:681-682) do not ignore that oi` de. evdi,stasan can receive other interpretations; but for them these are simply not plausible, For them this is a grammatical judgment, but in my view (as we shall see) it is also and mainly a theological-hermeneutical judgment.
· It is clear what being a disciple (discipleship) entails, namely submitting to the authority of Christ as Lord, and thus being commissioned and empowered (28:19a, poreuqe,ntej ou=n followed by imperative; the promise presence of the resurrected Christ with them is an on-going empowerment of the disciples).
· They also briefly mention that discipleship is “following the example of Jesus; imitatio Christi” (Davies and Allison 1997:685).
· It is clear what “making disciples” (18:19b, maqhteu,sate) entails; they simply note that “one can become disciple … only on the basis of a call which leads to discipleship” (Davies and Allison 1997:685, quoting Rengstorf, TWNT 4, 465).
· Consequently, mission is implicitly defined as “calling” other people to become disciples, i.e. to submit to the authority of Jesus.
· It is clear that “universal lordship means universal mission” (Davies and Allison 1997:684)
· Christ Lordship is as the “ruler of all” (pantokra,twr) who needs to be recognized and accepted by all (as in Dn 7) – not as omnipotens (with the power to do all things), who would impose himself on people, and
·
pa,nta ta.
e;qnh means that this mission continues
to be aimed at the Jews as one of the nations.
· It is clear that baptism, as a step in the mission process (28:19c, bapti,zontej auvtou.j eivj to. o;noma tou/ patro.j kai. tou/ ui9ou/ kai. tou/ a9gi,ou pneu,matoj), is “the ritual of entry in his [Matthew’s] church,” replacing circumcision (Davies and Allison 1997:685).
·
It is a mark that by becoming a disciple one belongs to
the new time opened up by the resurrection (Davies and Allison 1997:688).
· Baptism might also be a way of “following the example of Jesus; imitatio Christi.”
·
It is clear that “teaching” the new disciples “to obey everything that [Jesus has] commanded [the
disciples-missionaries]” is teaching them the nova lex that the disciples-missionaries have received from “Jesus
as the authoritative bringer of revelation” (Davies and Allison 1997:686)
(28:20, dida,skontej auvtou.j threi/n pa,nta o[sa evneteila,mhn u9mi/n).
·
“Jesus as the
authoritative bringer of revelation” through his teaching in words (all his
words, the Sermon on the Mount, the Parables, etc) and in deeds. “The earthly
ministry as a whole is an imperative” (Davies and Allison 1997:686).
Each of the preceding points
reflects an analytical, a theological-hermeneutical, and a contextual choice,
for which I will propose alternates. Yet, before doing this, we need to bring
together these exegetical points by summarizing the teaching of Matthew about
mission when one reads Mt 28:16-20 with Davies and Allison:
Missionaries are disciples 1) who, like the eleven male followers of Jesus,
totally submit to the authority of Jesus as the universal Lord and as such 2)
participate in the new time opened up by Jesus’ resurrection and are
commissioned and empowered 3) in order
to call all other people to become disciples who themselves submit to Jesus’
authority, 4) a submission marked by baptism, the ritual of entry in Matthew’s
church, and 5) in order to teach to other people the nova lex that the disciples-missionaries have received from “Jesus
as the authoritative bringer of revelation” and that other people do not know.
3. READING
As I write this summary of
Davies and Allison’s interpretation, I am struck by how self-evident this
teaching has been (and still seems to be) for me. After all, it was and is the
basis of the missionary practice that prolongs the 19th century
Protestant mission. Yet the form of Davies and Allison’s discourse already
suggests that it is not as self-evident as it may seem. They refer to divergent
interpretations, and as good historical critical exegetes they are careful to
present their interpretations as the exegetical conclusions with the highest
probability to reflect Matthew’s intention. For them, other possible exegetical
conclusions are less probable. Thus, their discourse-commentary acknowledges
that they made exegetical choices (or more generally, “analytical-textual”
choices) on the basis of textual evidence[5] verified by the
coherence of the Matthean text which ultimately these exegetical choices
elucidate. Yet the circularity of this interpretive process – the coherence of
the conclusions about the meaning of the Matthean text provides the
legitimation of their analytical textual choices – suggests that other
interpretive choices took place.
These other interpretive choices become apparent when we “read with others” – that is, with
readers who are not male European-Americans. Let us repeat it, “reading with
others” is reading the same text with interpreters who are culturally, socially, or religiously different from us and allowing
their different interpretations to challenge ours. Part of “reading with
others” involves respecting them as interpreters, and thus coming to them with
the presupposition that their different interpretations are legitimate until
proven otherwise – rather than with the presupposition that their different
interpretations are illegitimate until proven otherwise. Thus, reading with
others involves striving to understand how their interpretations are legitimate,
especially when they are not self-evident for us – that is, when they do not
fit well with our own presuppositions. With this approach our
pre-understandings and our implicit interpretive choices are soon exposed.
“Reading with” other male European-American Matthean
scholars who have reached different conclusions regarding another part of
Matthew, the Sermon on the Mount, was already quite instructive for me. By
respecting each of these interpretations, and therefore presupposing that they
were equally legitimate (in this case, each interpreter can be respected as a “scholar”),
one can readily recognize some of their interpretive choices by seeking to
understand the reasons behind their different interpretations. Thus comparing
Georg Strecker (1988), Jack Kingsbury (1986), Jacques Dupont (1969-1973),
Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1985), Ulrich Luz (1989), Davies and Allison (1987), and
my own interpretation. I quite readily discerned regarding the theme Discipleship according to the Sermon on the
Mount, four legitimate readings, four plausible views of discipleship, and
their relative values (Patte 1996). I
did not seek to elucidate the specific contextual choices each of the other
interpreters made – I would have had to speculate, since traditionally critical
scholars are (pretend to be) involved in a quest for the universally legitimate
[critical] interpretation. But each of our analytical textual choices was
readily recognizable in the distinct methodological approach that each
carefully explained in order to legitimize his choice of certain textual
features as more significant than others.
Similarly each of our respective
hermeneutical-theological choices was quite clear, since each, in one way or
another, sought to clarify his own conclusions regarding Matthew’s teaching
about discipleship. As I argued, each of these very different views of
discipleship were made plausible for “modern” Western readers by being cast in
the mold of one or another of the models of the moral life – either in a
deontological model (discipleship as doing God’s will), a consequentialist/ utilitarian
model (discipleship as the fulfillment of a vocation for others), or one of the
perfectionist models of the moral life (discipleship as imitatio Christi, either imitating Christ’s deeds, that is, doing
what Christ did, or imitating Christ’s way of discerning between true and false
leaders, between blessed and cursed ones). As we shall see, these different
male European-American ways of “constructing” discipleship are pertinent for
assessing the different hermeneutical-theological choices of interpretations of
Mt 28:16-20. In fact, Davies and Allison (1997:685) make explicit that they
conceive of discipleship as imitatio
Christi in the sense of imitating Christ’s deeds, a view of discipleship
which presupposes that “making disciples” involves calling would-be-disciples
to share with the community Jesus’ entire revelation (with baptism as entering
the community and its revealed vision [of the kingdom]) and then instructing
them for a life in obedience to this revelation (Davies and Allison1997:686).
This view of discipleship and mission presupposes, therefore, that the primary
goal of mission is a resocialization of would-be-disciples, who are therefore to abandon all their
conceptions and their ways of life; becoming disciples is an apprenticeship
into the life of a community that seeks to embody through its way of life the
entire teaching of Jesus.
Davies and Allison’s interpretation is quite plausible
(its view of discipleship makes sense, since it reflects an acceptable view of
the moral life) and, as I suggested, quite legitimate (well grounded into the
text). Yet, as any given interpretation it is selective; it results from
careful, self-conscious analytical-textual and hermeneutical-theological
choices. In addition, even though traditional male European-American
scholarship usually pretends to be detached, this interpretation also results
from contextual-ideological choices regarding its perceived value for a given
context. Acknowledging this contextuality denies neither the legitimacy nor the
plausibility of this interpretation. Yet, such an acknowledgment affirms that
any interpretation of the Bible always matters, (Grenholm and Patte
2000:2) because believers live by this interpretation and thus, for better or
worse, relate it to their lives. Thus, implicitly or explicitly, any given
interpretation reflects a
contextual-ideological choice related to the various possible effects
(positive and negative effects) that adopting this interpretation would have
for the interpreters and their neighbors. But in order to recognize that we as
readers can indeed assume responsibility for our contextual-ideological choice of a given interpretation (making
sure that our choice is ethically better than others regarding the way it
affects our neighbors), we have to recognize that we do have a textual-analytical choice among several
legitimate interpretations (equally well grounded in the text, even though they are divergent)
as well as a hermeneutical-theological
choice, regarding different ways of constructing each theological concept.
These three types of interpretive choices implicitly or
explicitly involved in any interpretation of a scriptural text are closely
interwoven and reflect each other. They are isomorphic – shaped in the same
way, as Russian nesting dolls have the same shape despite their different
sizes. Yet, one cannot tell which of the dolls was first crafted and served as
a model for the other dolls. In the same way, one cannot tell which of the
three interpretive choices is predominant. This certainly varies. Yet, I would
venture to say that the most influential interpretive choice is the one to
which the interpreter pays the less attention.
We need to clarify the
interrelations among these three Russian dolls, that is, among the
analytical-textual choices (the smaller, more detailed Russian doll), the
hermeneutical-theological choices (the middle Russian doll), and the
contextual-ideological choices (with a pragmatic and pedagogical dimension; the
larger Russian doll) involved in each given interpretation. For this, we first
need to become aware of the fact that we are implicitly or explicitly
performing these three types of interpretative choices. As I suggested above,
it is by “reading with others” that we gain this awareness.
Thus, in the rest of this paper, I will briefly report on
four examples of interpretations that are different from Davies and Allison’s.
I will read with Musa Dube, with George
Soares-Prabhu (Patte, Stubbs,Ukpong and Velunta 2003: 109-134), with Elaine Wainwright (1998), and allude to my own reading of the text
(Patte 1996). This will be enough to show the selective character of any of our
interpretations, to establish that we have made divergent analytical-textual
choices in our interpretations of Mt 28:16-20, to begin deconstructing the
Western Protestant concept of mission, and to envision alternate ways of
envisioning “mission” according to Mt 28:16-20.
4. READING MATTHEW 28:16-20
WITH MUSA DUBE: ACKNOWLEDGING THE CONTEXTUAL-IDEOLOGICAL CHARACTER OF OUR
BIBLICAL STUDIES AS DIDACTIC DISCOURSES
It remains that reading
with her is very rewarding because she exposes the role of
contextual-ideological choices in this interpretation. By contrast with Davies
and Allison who do not acknowledge any contextual-ideological perspective – and
thus, implicitly (and most forcefully) present their interpretation as valid
for any context, a universalist interpretation – Dube deliberately emphasizes
her own context. She reads from
Here it is enough to underscore in which sense for Dube
(the traditional interpretation of) Mt 28:19a, “Go therefore and make disciples
of all nations,” is imperialist. A couple of quotations will have to suffice
here as an invitation to re-read her essay:
The title of the present study
[quoting Mt 28:19a] invokes Matthew’s text because of its imperative to disavow
borders. The command not only instructs Christian readers to travel to all
nations but also contains a “pedagogical imperative” – “to make disciples of
all nations. Does such an imperative consider the consequences of trespassing?
Does it make room for Christian travelers to be discipled by all nations, or is
the discipling in question conceived solely in terms of a one-way traffic? …
The answer to this second question is not directly provided by the gospel.
Nevertheless the text clearly implies that Christian disciples have a duty to
teach all nations, without any suggestion that they must also in turn learn
from all nations. Consequently, if all nations are to be entered and
“discipled” by Christian teachers without any sort of reciprocal stance or
attitude on the latter’s part, do we not then find in the gospel an operative
model of outsiders as infants to be “uplifted”?
(Musa Dube 1998:224-25)
She proceeds to an assessment
of the Bible – she affirms that, as exemplified by Mt 28:16-20, it is an
imperialist text, and thus she questions its value as a tool in the resistance
against imperialism – but also to an assessment of critical biblical studies
and pedagogy. The relentless questions for her are: To what extent are critical
biblical studies and pedagogy imperialist? And what are the conditions that
need to be met before they can be viewed as tools of resistance against
imperialism? Her assessments and proposals quickly range much beyond any
discussion of Mt 28:16-20, but following the editors of the volume, Fernando
Segovia and Mary Ann Tolbert,[6]
the link she makes between critical biblical studies and pedagogy is essential.
In sum, any presentation of a critical interpretation of a biblical text is
necessarily a didactic discourse (Patte 1981, 1983). Therefore any critical
biblical interpretation is a contextual practice negotiating the interaction between
“teacher-biblical scholar” and “learners” and therefore a practice framed by an
ideological structure establishing a relationship between “teacher-scholar” and
“learners.” The problem becomes
apparent when we read with Musa Dube. From her perspective in colonized
Zimbabwe and Botswana, Dube (1998:234-235) cries out that “biblical criticism
is still for the most part under the control of imperial centers … Western
academicians have advanced literary methods and readings that continue to
support and sustain imperial dominion ….” Our practice of biblical study is
framed by an imperialistic ideology. She specifies what she means when she
speaks of imperialism.
Imperialism
is characterized above all by its structural imposition of a few standards on a universal scale. This imposition
does not meet “the other” as an equal subject, with dialogue and free exchange
as a result. On the contrary, this imposition rests on a view of “the other” as
a blank slate to be filled, whereby the rights of “the other” are structurally
derogated and “the other” is rendered dependent. As Ngungi wa Thiong’o (1998:233; cf Thiong’o
1994:20) has put it, imperialism is a “cultural bomb” whose aim is to
“annihilate a people’s belief in their names, in their languages, in their environment,
in their heritage of struggle, in their unity, in their capacities and
ultimately in themselves.”
Following Musa Dube’s lead, let me clarify what I
mean by saying that scholarly studies of the Bible, in this case studies of
Matthew, are always didactic, that is, have always
a pedagogical goal, even if this pedagogical goal is not made explicit. At
minimum, the most detached of scholarly studies is prepared for publication –
that is, in order to be read by others,
and thus in order to teach something to these readers. Critical biblical
studies always are, among other things, a didactic practice, although biblical
scholars frequently ignore it. But, ignoring it means that we as interpreters
fail to assume responsibility for our practices and its effects, because we
pretend that we do not have any choice. And as Dube reminds us, when our
practice is imperialistic (as defined above), it has devastating effects on
many. Indeed, when our practice as First World biblical scholars is
imperialistic it has devastating effects on the two-thirds of the readers of
the Bible, those who live in the Two-Thirds world. Consequently, in what
follows,
·
I first want to
explore alternate contextual, pedagogical, and ideological frames for our
biblical interpretations (the bigger of the Russian nesting dolls), then
·
I propose to
briefly point out how the shape of these ideological frames is reflected in the
conceptualization of mission, of “making disciples” and of “teaching” which we
relate to Mt 28:16-20 (the mid-size Russian nesting doll), and in the process I
will briefly suggest that interpreters have hermeneutical-theological choices,
as is apparent when we read with George Soares-Prabhu; and finally,
·
I will suggest
how these ideological frames are also reflected in the perception of what is
most significant in the text (the smaller of the Russian nesting dolls), and in
the process I will briefly show that interpreters do have textual choices, as
is apparent when reading with Elaine
Wainwright, and by focusing on the
narrative semantics of the Gospel of Matthew.
5. ALTERNATE CONTEXTUAL,
PEDAGOGICAL, AND IDEOLOGICAL FRAMES FOR BIBLICAL INTERPRETATIONS
A scholarly biblical study,
however abstract, necessarily has an ideological, didactic structure, shaped by
the way in which the scholar envisions her/his readers (or audience) and their
needs that this biblical study hopes to address. According to Webster’s (1970) most
general definition (see also Parret 1983, Patte 1981, 1990)[7]
to “teach” “applies to any manner of imparting information or skill so
that others may learn.” To “learn” has a threefold object; it is “to gain knowledge
or understanding of or skill in” (my italics); what is taught is
either something that the learners do not know, or something that the
learners do not understand, or something in which the learners do not
have skill.
Thus a teaching (what is taught) is necessarily new
for learners. For instance, according to this definition, a teaching about
Matthew 28:16-20 somehow transforms either the learners’ “knowledge” of this text, or their “understanding” of its key theological
concepts, or their way of practicing
mission (a “skill”) according to this text – a practice that in turn includes
“teaching” (Mt 28:20) and “making disciples” a process that also includes some
kind of “teaching.” Thus, in this case, the didactic practice of biblical
studies has for subject matter a didactic practice, namely that of disciples
who are making disciples and teaching pa,nta ta. e;qnh. These two didactic practices are
nested one within the other, like the bigger and the middle-size Russian nesting dolls. Thus,
as is the case with Russian nesting dolls, in one scale or another, these two
didactic practices have the same form and shape, which is also su,mmorfoj th/j eivko,noj (conformed to the paradigm,
ideology, world view) of the biblical scholars/teachers’ relationship to the
learners. Thus,
we need to explore a little more what are the different forms of didactic
discourses that we can envision.
Moving beyond Webster, we note that the definition of
teaching as “transformation” of the learners implies that learners are not
“blank slates,” as Musa Dube underscored, following Paulo Freire (1971:57-74).
What is “new” for the learners (what they learn) can only be apparent by
contrast with something “old” that they already have – and that the didactic
discourse can either wipe out as erroneous (making them “blank slates”), or
affirm as partially or fully appropriate, though incomplete in some ways.
As a biblical scholar interpreting Mt 28:16-20, I address
learners who have already read this text, who have a previously gained
knowledge of this text, of the issues it raises, and who come to the text with
all a life experience that somehow impinges on the text. Thus as a biblical
scholar and teacher I spontaneously adapt my teaching to these learners, taking
into account what I imagine they already know and understand, and what skills
they already have. Obviously, I do not present in the same way a critical
biblical study to biblical scholars, to undergraduate students, to participants
in an adult Sunday school class, and to seminarians.
These general characteristics of teaching leave us free
to orient the didactic thrust of our critical biblical studies in many
different directions. A basic choice concerns the primary kind of transformation
we seek to bring about in the learners:
· Is it an informational transformation of the learners’ “knowledge” of the biblical text? Is it aimed at providing information about the connotations of each of the Greek words of Mt 28:16-20, using a philological approach? Is it aimed at providing information about the historical, social, political, cultural, literary, or religious context of Mt 28:16-20? In the process, this biblical study needs to show the legitimacy of this interpretation, that is, it needs to make explicit the way in which its conclusions regarding the teaching of Mt 28:16-20 are grounded in the text.
· Or is it a hermeneutical transformation of their “understanding” of key theological concepts of this text? Is it aimed at transforming the learners’ views or convictions (what is self-evident for them) about “mission,” “making disciples,” “discipleship,” “Christ presence with us”? Then, the biblical study needs to engage the learners’ convictions, as well as their religious experience, rituals, or world view that supports these convictions. In the process, this biblical study needs to show the theological plausibility of this teaching.
· Or is it a pragmatic transformation of their “skill” in applying this text to their lives in a particular context? Is it aimed at transforming the way in which the learners’ practice mission or practice making disciples or more generally practice discipleship? While providing skills in these matters, envisioning how to proceed in these activities and what are the effects or outcome expected, the biblical study cannot but ask questions regarding the morality of these activities. How different groups are affected by this missionary activity? To what extent are the activities for which the learners are trained helpful? Liberating? Oppressive? Hurtful?
Thus regarding each
interpretation of Mt 28:16-20 we need to ask: Which one of these three
transformations is preponderant?
By asking, “Which transformation is preponderant?” I signal that I presuppose that a) each critical
biblical study as didactic discourse involves these three kinds of
transformation, and b) that any one of these three kinds of transformation may,
eventually, be preponderant. Furthermore, I suggest that the choice of these
pedagogical goals is somehow conformed to the ways in which one constructs on
the one hand the relationship between teacher and learner (the larger Russian
nesting doll) and on the other hand the understanding of mission, making
disciples, and teaching proposed in one’s interpretation of Matthew 28:16-20
(the smaller Russian nesting doll).
6. THE LARGER RUSSIAN NESTING
DOLL: BIBLICAL SCHOLARS AS READERS OF THE BIBLE AMONG OTHER READERS
As biblical scholars we teach people who are themselves readers of the
Bible, or at least people who are would-be readers of the Bible. To put it
bluntly, our teaching is not addressed to children who do not know how to read.
We are teaching people who already know how to read, and therefore, can read or
already read the Bible by themselves. The question is: How do we construct our
relationship to learners in our pedagogical practice? Musa Dube’s
(1998:234-235) judgment is clear: “biblical criticism is still for the most
part under the control of imperial centers. … [and] continue[s] to support and
sustain imperial dominion ….” In other words, the relationship
teachers-learners that ideologically frames our pedagogical practice is in most
instances imperialistic.
As I noted in Ethics of Biblical Interpretation (Patte
1995:33) and above, Gerald West and
Jill Arnett first suggested that Gayatri Spivak’s
post-colonialist work provided a good paradigm for biblical scholarship and
therefore also, I add, for thinking out our pedagogical practice. Spivak’s (1988:277-313)
essay, “Can the subaltern speak?”, is particularly relevant for assessing our
pedagogy. Its distinction between three
ways of relating to subalterns (“speaking for them”; “listening to them”; and
“speaking to/with them”)easily apply to the pedagogical relationship between
biblical scholars and learners. Biblical scholars readily “read for others” or
“listen to others and adopt their reading” (we co-opt their views, making them
“ours”) instead of “reading with others”.
“Speaking for
the subalterns” is a most common way in which colonialists interact with people
from other cultures and this with the best of intention; these subaltern people
do not know what is good for themselves; subalterns do not know how to express
themselves; like children they do not (yet?) have full agency; or as Dube (1998:225)
puts it, they are viewed “as infants to be ‘uplifted’.”
On the one hand, we, contemporary biblical scholars, are
quick to reject this attitude in many situations; we have learned to recognize
and to denounce the many instances when persons are denied agency and
personhood as they are silenced by someone speaking
for them; we recognize this practice as one of the characteristic attitudes
also found in patriarchalism and racism. On the other hand and nevertheless, in
our pedagogical practice as biblical scholars we most commonly deal with – or,
are constantly tempted to deal with – the learners as if they were subalterns
who cannot and should not speak, except to repeat what we taught them. Are we
not teaching our students how they should read the text? Speaking for them as
readers of the Bible?
Commonly we do not perceive the colonialist or
imperialistic character of this pedagogical attitude. Its imperialism is hidden
as behind a veil by the fact that our teaching is about the proper reading of
the Bible. We would not presume to “speak for” our students concerning any
other aspects of their lives and their views. But regarding reading the Bible,
as biblical scholars are we not the experts? And therefore is it not our task
to teach them how they should read the biblical text? Thus we readily envision
ourselves as teaching to our students and to our audience what is “the true”
(critically established) teaching of the text or at least what is a properly
informed reading of the biblical text – a reading that they cannot perform by
themselves, because they have not the proper training in Greek or Hebrew
language, in history, in literary study, in social-scientific study of the
Hellenistic and Roman worlds, in history of religions – about Mt 28:16-20,
regarding the relationship between Christianity, formative Judaism in its diversity, and Hellenistic religions and culture.
This is the imperialistic pedagogy which is embodied in a
comprehensive “critical commentary” of a biblical text, such as Davies and
Allison’s commentary, but also, … in my own commentary. Of course, our first
reaction, we the authors of such commentaries, is to deny that we speak for our readers or that we read for them, as if they were infants
or people unable to read for themselves. This is far from our intention. Davies
and Allison would point to the many conditional clauses they used as clear
evidence that they do not choose an interpretation for their readers; they do
not speak for their readers; they simply suggest that a certain reading is the
most probably right – this is what good historians always do, don’t they?
Similarly, I would deny that in my commentary I read for others, offering them
the interpretation that they should adopt, because it is the best for them.
Reading my commentary in this way is misusing it, failing to take into account
the strong emphasis in the introduction that it presents one among several possible plausible readings of Matthew, and thus
does not claim to be the only plausible reading (Patte :1-15). Yet, the
literary genre of biblical commentaries is saying loud and clear: here is an expert reading which subalterns
should adopt as a replacement for their own faulty readings. We, biblical
scholars, are reading for others. The
problem is that in such a case we treat other readers as subalterns; we deny
that they can truly read; or, at the very least, we deny that they can reach an
appropriate reading on their own.
Feminist scholars have long pointed out this problem with
androcentric interpretations of the Bible; the pedagogical practices that frame androcentric biblical studies deny
that women can read, and therefore male scholars read for them. But She Can Read as Emily Cheney (1996) claims
in her insightful book with this title. Nevertheless, this critique applies
beyond androcentric practices to all practices of biblical studies – including
many feminist academic biblical studies because, as Cheney insists, “she” who
can read is not simply an academically trained woman, but also any woman,
including those with whom Kwok Pui-lan read the Bible in China and elsewhere in
the Two-Thirds World (Pui-lan1995, 2005) and those with whom Gerald West (2004:92-104)
read in Kwazulu-Natal.
In most instances, our pedagogical practice, indeed our
very conception of biblical scholarship, posits that: 1) we have (or are
developing) a superior knowledge of the biblical text and what it means that
our students and our audience do not have; 2) this superior knowledge is due to
our superior interpretive skills, painstakingly gained through years of
linguistic, historical and methodological training; and therefore 3) our role
is to transmit this knowledge about the biblical text and its meaning to our
students and audiences … and thus to read
for them. In most instances, our very conception of biblical scholarship
makes subalterns of all ordinary readers.[8]
In a typical imperialist way, we
readily say that, of course, we do not want them to remain subalterns. We want
to educate them (these “children”) and make them in our image. But for this we
need to read for them, and indeed to empower them to read as we do, by sharing
with them our interpretive skills, so that they will be “in our image”, and
will no longer be subalterns, but civilized.
What else could biblical scholarship be? The problem is
that we cannot even imagine that it
could be anything else. But precisely we have to recognize that this conception
of biblical scholarship is “imagined” and thus ideological, in Althusser’s (1984:36)
neo-Marxist sense of ideology: “Ideology
is a ‘representation’ of the imaginary relationship of individuals to their
real conditions of existence.” Recognizing the ideological character of our
practice and conception of biblical scholarship involves acknowledging that
they are framed by a constructed (imaginary) view of our relationship to the
biblical text as well as to the other readers of the Bible – parts of our “real
conditions of existence” as biblical scholars. This recognition also involves
the acknowledgment that other possible practices and conceptions of critical
biblical scholarship are possible, although we will need others from other
cultures and social-economic contexts to help us envision these other ways of
practicing and envisioning critical biblical studies. But then if there are
other possible ways of conceiving of this practice it means that we have a
choice, and thus we have a moral responsibility to assess the relative values
of different kinds of critical biblical practices.
From this perspective, and with Musa Dube, we can also recognize that this ideological frame shapes our conceptions of “Jesus’ authority”, “the disciples’ authority”, “mission”, “making disciples”, and “teaching them” (the middle size Russian nesting doll). These hermeneutical-theological conceptions “of the text” follow, interestingly, the same pattern: of course, “teaching” the new disciples is simply telling them what they do not know and what they need to inscribe on the blank s of their lives. It is presupposing that they are “blank slates” regarding “the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit” (Mt 28:19), and that receiving the teaching of Jesus (who has “all authority in heaven and on earth”) through the disciples-missionaries (who have been commissioned by Jesus and who share in Jesus’ authority) means viewing as erroneous everything they knew and believed before, and thus wiping out all this as erroneous (making themselves “blank slates”). We cannot imagine these concepts – Jesus’ authority; the disciples-missionaries’ authority; mission; making disciples; and teaching them – in any other way, just as we cannot imagine our critical biblical practice in any other way. But we may begin to wonder if this conceptualization is