R obert M.
Price |
Michel Foucault, the
archaeologist of knowledge, spoke of a regnant archive,
or body of implicit canonical assumptions that restrict and define
the parameters of academic discourse in every era. Some ideas, notions,
theories, seem to be ruled out from the start. In our field of biblical
criticism, for instance, the shocking notion that no historical Jesus
ever existed, once seriously debated by scholars (even by those who
strongly rejected it), was only a few years later dismissed, ruled
out of court by Rudolf Bultmann as the mad fancy of unstable minds.
And this from supposedly the most radical of critics. Radicalism was
a sliding scale, as many of Bultmann's views, say, on the number of
authentic Pauline epistles, were decidedly more conservative than
those of F. C. Baur only a generation before.
Each scholarly generation seems to feel it must define
a basic consensus so that all may have a common game board and set
of rules. Certain questions are just not kept open, certain disturbing
theories left to collect dust, frozen out by agreed neglect, though
it is far from clear that they were ever really refuted. Indeed, one
of the most important lessons to be learned by the biblical student
from a study of the history of the discipline is that many of the
critical dinosaurs consigned to the museum had much more in their
favor than any of today's standard textbook summaries would lead their
readers to believe. One suspects that these introductory surveys are
in some measure intended as apologetics for the consensus positions
upheld by their authors. There is no substitute for reading the classics
of the field for oneself .
It seems to some of us that we find ourselves in
a period of critical retrenchment, a return to the comforting apologetics
of an earlier generation, one more amenable to a certain neo-conservative
ecclesiastical ethos. The old theories, once so disturbing to the
dogmatic slumber of the faithful, have been consigned to undeserved
oblivion. They have fallen off the scholarly agenda not so much from
any inherent untenability (indeed, how could one judge their tenability
when only caricatures are available for evaluation?) as because of
a demographic shift. The sheer volume of conservative biblical students
and scholars reflects the demographic triumph of the conservative
denominations and their seminaries. New hands are taking control of
the biblical studies plausibility structure. And theories seem plausible
or implausible insofar as they can flourish in the resulting climate
of opinion.
Of course one may suggest that the same thing had
happened in the days of the dominance (such as it ever was) of the
radical criticism of the Tübingen School and its heirs. But this seems
doubtful. Higher Criticism hardly coasted to its position of ascendance;
when did the historical-critical method ever gain any ground except
by fighting for every inch in the teeth of determined ecclesiastical
opposition? But students entering universities and seminaries where
the Higher Criticism held sway, one may argue, were no less captives
of a dominant cognitive universe, the victims of mere indoctrination.
Perhaps, but then one may suggest that the real tragedy here was that
students were trained in the transitory results, but not the abiding
methods of that criticism; and it is the latter that are far more
important.
Why has the Higher Criticism gradually slipped from
its place of dominance to the point where it is either a toothless
tiger or worse yet, covert apologetics wearing the Esau-mask of criticism?
Perhaps because many of those trained in it never really felt obliged
to grasp either the methods that led to the results or the arguments
for particular positions held. When students encountered apologetical
arguments against critical positions, apologetics ably refuted generations
before by Strauss, Wellhausen, and Baur, they thought they were seeing
something new under the sun. And they were in no position to respond
adequately. The classics of criticism were long out of print and not
easily obtained.
The present publication, The Journal of Higher
Criticism, is a forthright attempt to hark back to that golden
era of bold hypotheses and daring reconstructions associated with
the great names of Baur and Tübingen — though, of course, not necessarily
with the same theories. The Journal welcomes innovative exegeses
and critical essays that seek to rethink old issues, ruling no question
or answer out of court. We seek to maintain the highest standards
of biblical scholarship and welcome submissions cleaving to those
standards. Contributors may represent any or no particular personal
faith position.
To define things a bit further, to mark out, so to
speak, the corner of the scholarly vineyard in which we seek to labor,
The Journal of Higher Criticism seeks studies in historical,
source, form, redaction, composition, and history-of-religions criticism.
We leave to others the worthy subdisciplines of textual criticism,
social science criticism, etymological studies, modern literary theory
applied to the Bible, and biblical theology. Our focus is mainly on
the Christian Scriptures and related early Christian literature; but
Jewish Scriptures, Apocryphal, and Pseudepigraphical studies will
receive careful consideration as well. The Journal also welcomes
studies of the historical development of biblical criticism and of
the work of major figures in that tradition.