Yesterday's 'Poem for the Day' was 'Song' by Christina Rossetti. It's a thoroughly miserable piece that begins 'When I am dead, my dearest' and goes on to instruct her lover not to make any effort to remember her because she won't bother to remember him when she's gone.

Reading the footnotes I was amazed to discover that Rossetti wrote this poem when she was just 18 and nowhere near death (she reached the age of 64) and gave it to her fiance as an engagement present. I kid you not.

The only surprise is that she, rather than he, later broke off the engagement!

See this for a nice illustration of the way far too many people view metaphor.

One of my best Christmas presents was 'I think the nurses are stealing my clothes' - a compilation of Linda Smith's funniest moments. Here are just a few of my favourites...

On John Prescott:

I suspect language isn't his first language

On Tony Blair:

I don't want to give him the oxygen of publicity. I'm not too keen on him having the oxygen of oxygen.

On weapons of mass destruction:

I feel sorry for the government really. Looking for these weapons of mass destruction. I'm like that with scissors. They're always in the last place you look. (Pause) Of course, the difference is, I know I have got some scissors.

On Erith:
It's not so much a city that never sleeps as a town that lies awake all night, looking at the ceiling.
It's not twinned with anywhere, but it does have a suicide pact with Dagenham.

I left Philadelphia on a day so warm and sunny I felt foolish putting my coat on. I arrived in Manchester on a day so miserable and foggy that the planes were all being massively delayed in case they ran into each other on the runway.

The fog continued for most of the rest of the week, causing absolute chaos at the airports but, fortunately, not on the trains so I was able to get to Oxford and Wolverhampton for fun times with various friends.

On Saturday the jet lag hit. This was slightly disappointing as we were going down to Stratford to see Judi Dench and Simon Callow in the Merry Wives of Windsor. However, by the time we were in the theatre I was feeling a bit more awake and, in fact managed to keep my eyes open throughout (unlike certain other people sitting either side of me). I thought it was a fun production - they'd done it as a musical. I could live with the mock-Tudor set and costumes, though I thought the motorbike and scooter were unnecessary anachronisms. The singing and dancing were generally good - who knew Alistair McGowan could tango? I say he should be on Strictly Come Dancing next year. And the plot is perfect for Christmas - nothing dark, nothing sinister, lots of farce and fun.

On Sunday disaster struck. Well, okay, that may be a slight exaggeration. I got out of bed and trod on a wasp. In December! It's global warming gone mad, that's what it is. Anyway, I spent the rest of the day unable to wear shoes or socks and barely able to walk with my whole foot swollen.

By Christmas Day, the foot was worse and the cold that had been threatening for about a week finally hit. So much so that by about 4 o'clock I was sent to bed with a hot drink by my mother.

A long lie-in on Tuesday, some much-needed antihistamine cream, and by the afternoon I was feeling quite a lot better. And then had the mad idea of making a patchwork top for a quilt that I could bring back to the US and finish by hand. Hmm. 10pm not the best time to start these things.

On Wednesday, Dawn drove down from Liverpool (though it might actually have been quicker to walk) and we went out for dinner (tea). I had proper fish and chips - the memory of which will keep me going for months.

And now I'm back in Glenside. Still sunny. Still no sign of the proper winters everyone claims they have here. Before you know it, it'll be 2007 and I'll be coming home for the summer.

I returned to sunny Glenside (from rainy Manchester) today to find the Oak Hill 2007 Yearbook waiting for me. Interesting to see what changes and what doesn't...

Not sure I like the funky new font for the names - trying a bit hard?

I notice Marc Lloyd's still claiming to be able to recognise the letters of the Hebrew alphabet and makes no mention of having married the lovely Yvonne in the summer.

Neil Jeffers, by contrast, gives us a full update on his life - though I think is a little modest. Surely more theological and physical weight, Neil?

Lots of people have married and lots of others have had children. No surprises there. Some seem to have taken up strange hobbies (beekeeping and falconry, Helen Morrow?) and others have learnt the hard way about putting a 'funny' entry in the yearbook, only to discover that every potential employer in the country reads it (was it Jonty who claimed to have been a lion tamer last year?)

Charlie Styles (surely he should still be at school?) seems to have sneaked straight into the second year and is there really someone called Gerry Straker in the third year who I never once spoke to in the past two years? If there is - I'm very sorry Gerry. Catch up with you in heaven, maybe?

There are two pages of fourth year students! Okay, so only Dave Walker is on the second page, but still a good effort boys.

Didn't we used to have notes about the faculty too? They've gone, but it's good to see Matthew Sleeman among their ranks. I see that Dan Strange is still spending his time trying to explain to people what Public Theology is and why it matters. Nice to see some George Herbert in there, though.

And I'm very excited about Mike, Steve and Sachy's new book.

But mostly I'm concerned that there's someone just on the edge of the cover of the new prospectus who looks like they might be me. Surely not? Peter Wood wouldn't do that, would he?

Accompanied by possibly the worst photo in the world, my dissertation on the Song is now being hosted by Beginning with Moses, here.

Okay, I haven't been blogging for quite a year, but as I head home for Christmas it seems a good time to do a 'Best of 2006' post. Here's my selection of favourite posts, month by month:

February: The Wedding Feast

March: Divine timelessness - further thoughts

April: Easter reading (i) and (ii)

May: Keeping Sunday Special

June: What kind of begetting?

July: Probably the most beautiful place in the world

August: Excellence

September: The end of grammatical-historical exegesis?

October: The Complete Theologian

November: SBL

December: Be imitators of me

Last night I went out with some friends to a Mexican restaurant in the city. It was lots of fun and the food was really good, although the strange fluffy paper animals hanging from the ceiling and the skulls on every available surface made for something of a strange atmosphere.

I had chicken fajitas (just for you, Dawn) which were really good and I tried bits of other people's plaintain and enchiladas. But not the cactus which one of the girls had in her burrito.

After the meal we walked to the Continental which is a very trendy bar/restaurant decorated in a kind of retro 70s theme. We sat upstairs where there were large stuffed horse-type creatures for seats and shagpile carpet on the ceiling. And then we looked at the cocktail menu. I can highly recommend chocolate martinis and pomegranate daiquiris!

It was lots of fun and a really nice way to celebrate the end of semester. Thanks for organising us, Liz!

Regular readers will remember the struggles I had a couple of months ago when trying to buy a car. Well, yesterday I finally got my title through the post only, guess what, my name was spelt wrongly! Oh yes. Roselind I am not. I checked the pink slip - everything was as it should be there, so this one's all down to Penndot. Arrgh.

My recent spate of blogging may be at a temporary end. I did the exam (can't tell you how it went because there may still be people out there who haven't done it yet and who may just possibly have access to the blog ). I now have 3 days, 20 hours, 24 minutes and about 27 seconds until I get on the plane that's taking me home for Christmas. Hooray!

Possibly some reflections on the semester as a whole will ensue, but for the moment I'm going to catch up on some sleep and catch up with some friends.

Is anyone else having trouble leaving comments on blogspot blogs at the moment? Clearly not everyone since comments are appearing. I find if I put in my username and password I get an error message saying 'Could not log you in at the moment. Please try again later' (this has been happening for two or three days).

Even if I try to leave an anonymous comment, it won't allow it.

Help?!

The task: to sum up a book of the bible in precisely six words.

The results: here.

Can you do better? If I get some good suggestions, I may compile a list.

HT: Thomas Renz

This is the verse I wrote my essay on for the hermeneutics class. The task was to examine Paul's hermeneutical goals, methods and assumptions by comparison with at least one other body of contemporary literature.

Leviticus 18:5 is a fascinating verse in terms of its interpretive history. The principle it embodies, of law-obedience leading to life, became foundational in second-temple Judaism and appears in all kinds of variant forms and different contexts. Someone has called it the 'John 3:16 of early Judaism'.

I think you can trace two different strands of the interpretive tradition associated with the verse:

(i) the salvation-historical strand

This is represented in Ezekiel 20, Neh 9:29 and the Damascus Document of the Qumran community. Here the focus is on Lev 18:5 as the identifying factor of the law. These laws which Israel disobeyed were the laws which 'if a man do them he shall live.' The context is of historical, national failure. The law did not lead to life for Israel, because Israel failed. That is the law of which Lev 18:5 speaks.

(ii) the deferred eschatological strand

This is represented in Luke 10:28, the Targums on Leviticus and Ezekiel, the Damascus Document and a variety of other texts. Essentially the focus here is on the life promised in Lev 18:5. Rather than blessed life in the land, this is eternal life. Rather than a promise for the nation, this is a promise for the individual law-keeper.

So there are a number of possibilities for Paul in Gal 3. He could be alluding to one of these strands, or both, or neither.

If neither:

This is the classic reformation view of Luther et al. Usually the interpretation of Gal 3:12 is something like 'the one who does them shall live by them' but no one does them, so no one will live by them (except Christ, of course). The problem with this view is that I just don't see how Paul could have expected any of his original hearers to have understood that this is what he meant. They thought people could keep the law (and so did Paul - Phil 3:6, Rom 2:13). And they would never have heard Lev 18:5 used in this way.

Which is not to say Paul couldn't have used it to mean that, just that he would surely have needed to explain it a lot more clearly. And the same argument applies to any non-traditional reading of the verse (even a strict GHE reading) - Paul's hearers would not have known what he meant.

If both:

Could be both - the traditions are neither isolated (both appear at Qumran) nor mutually exclusive (historical failure does not necessarily entail future disqualification). We'll need to look at the context of Galatians to see whether one or both fits best.

It seems clear to me that the salvation-historical reading of Lev 18:5 fits Paul's aims and argument in Gal 3 most closely, without any need to refer to the deferred eschatology strand at all. Here are some reasons why:

(i) Paul's overall argument is to do with the definition of the covenant community by faith rather than by law (3:7, 9, 29), not with individual salvation. Remember the presenting problem is whether Gentiles need to become like Jews to be included.

(ii) This is a salvation historical argument contrasting the people of God who lived under law and were cursed with those who live by faith and are blessed. This historical aspect is brought out strongly in the discussion in vv.15-28.

(iii) Since faith brings blessing, the law can't be 'of faith' (3:12), rather 'The one who does them shall live by them' and we know what happened to those who lived by them - they failed and were cursed.

(iv) 'Life' in Galatians is almost exclusively life here and now (2:14, 2:20, 5:25) and most of the letter is concerned with issues of the Christian life. Only in 6:8 does Paul make any mention of eternal life.

Corporate, historical, failure rather than individual, future, eternal life seems to be the matter at hand. And the interpretive tradition was surely strong enough that Paul could presume his readers' familiarity with it.

So it's a bit like the use of 'brave new world' with reference to Huxley not Shakespeare. Paul refers, I think, primarily to Ezekiel and Nehemiah and the associated tradition, rather than to Leviticus per se.

... in the chair of conversational theology, just where I should be while revising. All comments and questions welcomed to stimulate further thought. And if Dawn wants to make us all cups of tea and Neil could supply some of Mrs Jeffers' lovely brownies, that would be just perfect.

Something which has been niggling at the back of my mind as I think through all this hermeneutics stuff (see my previous posts) is the issue of text and meaning.

Let me take a non-biblical example to illustrate this. Everyone knows the phrase 'fools rush in' and most know the counterpart 'where angels fear to tread.' It has the status of a proverb with a fairly general scope for application.

Few know that this 'proverb' in fact has its source in an essay by Alexander Pope on criticism, where it had a very specific reference to those fools (the literary critics) rush to comment on that about which they know little or nothing.

The point is simple - we use the proverb without reference to its author's intent. It has become common currency.

Or take another example, the expression 'brave new world'. This has gone through at least two shifts in meaning/reference. I think probably it can be used as an idiom in modern English, referring to almost anything. A quick google turns up a PR company and a pro-am golf tournament. I'm fairly sure that neither of these intend their clients to be thinking in terms of bio-engineering effecting social change for 'universal happiness'.

But it still probably conjures up at least some of the connotations of Aldous Huxley's novel for most people. A 'brave new world' is a slightly frightening concept. Those things we hold most dear are overridden for the sake of the utopia being created.

Huxley's ironic use of the phrase is absent for Miranda in The Tempest, though, who first spoke these words:

How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is!
O brave new world,
That has such people in't!

So you see how meaning of texts develop. When we use the phrases 'brave new world' or 'fools rush in' we have access to a whole range of associations and connotations which Shakespeare and Pope neither knew nor intended. So if we were to exegete a modern usage of one of these phrases, our task would not merely be to ask 'what did the original author intend to convey?' and 'what does the new author do with that?'

We also need to ask about the general understanding of those phrases (which may be manifold) in common currency. It is most unlikely that a reference to the Tempest, or to the Essay on Criticism, is intended (except among pretentious literary circles).

Now it seems to me that the same thing must be true with respect to the NT authors use of the OT. Unless they make the effort to explain how the common contemporary understanding of an OT text they employ is wrong, then I suggest we should presume that that is what they intend to communicate. The NT authors are not writing in a vacuum of biblical interpretation. Their readers already have an interpretation of these texts and, unless told otherwise, that is what they are going to think of when the text is cited.

The more fleeting and casual the reference, the more true this is. I think of the reference to Jannes and Jambres in 2 Timothy. For a reader of the bible this is incomprehensible. But for a first century Jew, it's a clear allusion to the story of the Exodus, for Jannes and Jambres were two of the magicians at Pharaoh's court.

Or take the 'moveable rock' in 1 Cor 10. No mention of this in Exodus or Numbers, but the traditional interpretation was that the rock went with the people wherever they wandered in the desert.

Now what about a verse like Lev 18:5? I think we need another post.

Richard Longenecker's books 'Biblical Exegesis in the Apostolic Period' is a helpful, thorough, if somewhat dull, analysis of the explicit uses of the OT in the NT. He only considers those OT passages directly cited, by contrast with Hays who deliberately looks for the echoes and allusions in the text. Longenecker focusses much more on the parallels between the NT authors and their Jewish contempories, specifically employing categories like midrash and pesher, as well as literal and allegorical, to describe the NT author's methods.

Throughout the book he's uncontroversial. Right up until the last 5 pages when he starts to discuss the question of whether the apostolic hermeneutics is normative for our own. Interestingly he only applies this question to the three categories of midrash, pesher and allegorical interpretation, presumably having already arbitrarily decided that the 'literal' interpretation is acceptable. (He uses literal to mean 'the meaning intended by the human author' which, given the wide range of genres in the OT, may not be literal at all!)

Longenecker suggests three factors which are important in deciding how far the apostolic hermeneutics should be normative for our own:

(i) an adequate understanding of the hermeneutics of the NT authors (the historical consideration)

(ii) an appreciation of the purpose of biblical revelation (the theological consideration)

(iii) a sensitivity to what is normative and what is merely descriptive in biblical revelation.

Then he comes to his conclusion:

But apart from a revelatory stance on our part, I suggest that we cannot reproduce their pesher exegesis. While we legitimately seek continuity with our Lord and his apostles in matters of faith and doctrine... we must also recognize the uniqueness of Jesus as the true interpreter of the Old Testament and the distinctive place he gave to the apostles in the explication of the prophetic word.

Likewise, I suggest that we should not attempt to reproduce their midrashic handling of the text, their allegorical explications, or much of their Jewish manner of argumentation. All of this is strictly part of the cultural context through which the transcultural and eternal gospel was expressed. This is fairly obvious where such methods are used more circumstantially and in ad hominem fashion. But it is true even when they are not.

So what he seems to be saying is that it is only because the NT writers were inspired, indeed, only because they received specific revelation, that the conclusions they came to in their use of the OT were true. Despite the methods they used, rather than because of them, we can trust the doctrines they derived.

But we're not inspired NT authors, so if we used such methods, we would come to wrong conclusions. If we use GHE, however, which is essentially what Longenecker means by the 'literal' interpretation, then even without direct revelation, we are on solid ground.

He makes this crystal clear on the final page of his book:

What then can be said to our question, "Can we reproduce the exegesis of the New Testament?" I suggest that we must answer both "No" and "Yes." Where that exegesis is based on a revelatory stance, or where it evidences itself to be merely cultural, or where it shows itself to be circumstantial or ad hominem in nature, "No." Where, however, it treats the Old Testament in more literal fashion, following the course of what we speak of today as historico-grammatical exegesis, "Yes." Our commitment as Christians is to the reproduction of the apostolic faith and doctrine, and not necessarily to the specific apostolic exegetical practices.

If you can't see the problem with this, I refer you to my earlier posts here, here, here, here
and here.

If GHE can be shown to be an inadequate (though not entirely worthless) tool for interpreting the bible, what then is left? Are all interpretations equally valid? If the NT writers could take such extraordinary liberties with the OT text, are we free to do the same with their own books?

I think there are two answers to this question, two kinds of control.

First, there is the theological control. The NT writers interpreted the OT in particular ways to serve their hermeneutical goals. They interpreted it Christologically, ecclesiologically and eschatologically. Their understanding of the gospel determined their interpretation of the Scriptures which they believed preached the gospel. It's interesting that Christological interpretations are rare in the Pauline writings but common in Acts and the gospels. Since Paul was writing to believers, he had no need to prove that Jesus was the Christ - they knew that already. Rather, they needed to understand the nature of the church of which they were members. But Peter, for example, preaching at Pentecost, has quite a different aim. He does want his hearers to recognise their Messiah in the person of Jesus, and so he uses the OT for these ends.

Second, there is the community control. The bible is not an academic text intended for scrutiny by impartial observers. It is God's revelation for his people. So 'true' interpretation of the bible should be done by the people of God, for the edification of the people of God. I've touched on this before here. We shouldn't be surprised that interpretation of the bible done by unbelievers for their own self-promotion and career advancement, arrives at quite different conclusions.

Now, I'm not saying that Christians shouldn't think, or think hard, or take account of any academic research. Or that GHE has no value at all. But if we rely on method to get a reliable interpretation of scripture, we will immediately founder. And we will certainly never be able to show how 'all the Scriptures' speak of Christ.

McCartney again:

If our perception of larger divine intent in the OT is limited solely to those passages for which the apostles inspiredly spell it out for us, it seriously limits a Christian use of the OT.

and again:

We must... like Jesus and the apostles, go on to see and read the OT text in the context not just of the Bible as a whole, but in the context of redemptive history as a whole. In particular, we must read the OT with Christian eyes, with eyes that believe the OT as part of a gospel book, as a vital story that becomes our story because it is Christ's story. Should we employ the hermeneutic of the NT writers? Indeed we must.

Since I quoted Pete Enns in my last post, I feel that my other hermeneutics professor, Dan McCartney, should be given equal attention in this one.

One of the big problems that modern scholarship has when it approaches the NT use of the OT is its prior commitment to grammatical-historical exegesis. This supposedly 'scientific' method of studying texts aims to uncover what the original author intended to communicate to his original audience.

But as McCartney observes:

the conviction that the grammatical-historical meaning is the entire and exclusive meaning of the text seems to stem more from post-Enlightenment rationalistic presuppositions than from an analysis of the Bible’s understanding and interpretation of itself.

...the problems are not really generated by the New Testament’s use of the Old, but rather by our expectations as to what the New Testament’s use of the Old ought to be.

The NT authors had certainly not heard of and frequently did not operate according to the rules of GHE (despite the best efforts of Kaiser, Beale and others to show that they did). This is only a problem if we think that in some way they should interpret the OT in this way. But such a presupposition seems to me both arbitrary and arrogant. Why should we think we know better than ancient authors how to interpret ancient texts?

McCartney also observes that even if in some ways GHE can be thought of as a neutral, 'scientific' tool, this does not guarantee its results. One only has to consider briefly the breadth of diversity among biblical scholarship that all claims to be based on sound GHE. McCartney also cites the example of an Islamic handbook which suggests that the way to confound Christians is to apply the rules of GHE to the Old Testament! It can easily be demonstrated that the OT isn't about Christ, after all.

One of the inherent limitations of GHE when applied to the bible is its failure to account for the divine authorship of this text. McCartney uses the example of the detective novel to illustrate this. (See also Peter Leithart on David Steinmetz on this here and Steinmetz in 'The Art of Reading Scripture).

Since God, like Agatha Christie, knows the whole plot from the beginning, the story hangs together as a whole when interpreted in a certain way - in the light of the ending. But for the reader starting at the beginning without knowing this ending, it appears mysterious. (This is why I always read the end of books first.) What we find at the end is that details we first thought incidental become highly significant and that conversations we thought we'd understood take on a new light. Obviously the analogy is not perfect. God does not set out to mislead or trick the reader - there are no deliberate red herrings in the bible. But there are things that mean more than they first meant to the original author/readers. And GHE will never help us work these out.

Pete Enns in his Introduction to his Exodus commentary writes:

The book of Exodus is not waiting there for us to bring it into our world. Rather, it is standing there defining what our world should look like and then inviting us to enter that world.

He explains a bit more of what he means by this:

The story of Exodus... is designed to tell us what God is like, how he thinks of his people, the lengths to which he will go to deliver them, and the proper response of God's people to this great deed. Applying the book of Exodus begins with understanding what the story is supposed to do and then seeing how we, as God's people, fit into that story.

What Enns says of Exodus is all the more true of the bible as a whole. The proper question to ask is not 'What has the story to do with me?' but 'How should I fit into that story?' All the while remembering that the line comes not directly to us, but through Christ who is the fulfilment of the story in all its parts.

Rather than using blogging as a distraction, I'm now using it as a revision technique!

So this is from Moises Silva, in his article on the NT's use of the OT in Scripture and Truth:

...if God wished to reveal something of the significance of the Old Testament through His inspired apostles, would He do so through “scientific” methods that were to take twenty centuries to develop and would therefore have been totally incomprehensible to first-century readers? Might He not rather use those very associations and interpretive clues that would awaken the intended human response? Just as the use of imperfect human languages like Hebrew and Greek can prove an adequate channel for conveying divine truth unmixed with error, so does prescientific apostolic exegesis serve to communicate, infallibly, the teaching of the Old Testament.

If we refuse to pattern our exegesis after that of the apostles, we are in practice denying the authoritative character of their scriptural interpretation - and to do so is to strike at the very heart of the Christian faith.

You'll see he's basically arguing against Longenecker's position which I outlined briefly in an earlier post and will return to at length in a later one.

I'm about halfway through tagging all my entries. This serves the dual purpose of making it easier to find previous posts (of which there are some absolute corkers!) and helping me avoid revision.

So far, I notice that 'theology' is winning, just ahead of 'bible' and 'fun stuff'.

One or two people have expressed interested in reading this paper I wrote recently on the function of the words of institution of the Lord's Supper. I believe it will soon be available on a wonderful new website that Neil Robbie and James Oakley are preparing to help ministers who celebrate the Supper. Will let you know where and when.

The words of 'The Laughing Policeman' to the tune of 'As Time Goes By'.

(Not me, Paul)

Hays (see previous post) suggests several ways in which we may learn to be imitators of Paul in our interpretation of Scripture:

(i) Read Scripture primarily as a narrative of election and promise, as a witness to God's righteousness.

(ii) Read Scripture ecclesiocentrically - it is a word for and about the community of faith.

(iii) Read Scripture in the service of proclamation. That is to say, homiletical and prophetic readings can sometimes be more faithful that rigorously exegetical ones.

(iv) Read Scripture as participants in the eschatological drama of redemption. We have to participate in it and we have to recognise our parts properly.

(v) Appreciate the metaphorical relation between the text and our own reading of it. Cherish the poetics of interpretation, allowing rhetoric to lie down peacefully with grammar and logic.

Do we then overthrow the canon by this hermeneutic? On the contrary, we uphold the canon. Will the imaginative freedom of Paul's example ultimately destroy Scripture's authority if we dare to read the text as freely as he did? On the contrary, only when our interpreters and preachers read with an imaginative freedom analogous to Paul's will Scripture's voice be heard in the church. We are children of the Word, not prisoners.

Ultimately Hays offers two constraints to limit our interpretation of the Scriptures: 'the criterion of God's faithfulness to his promises' and what he calls 'the most powerful check against arbitrariness and error':

No reading of Scripture can be legitimate... if it fails to shape the readers into a community that embodies the love of God as shown forth in Christ. This criterion slashes away all frivolous or self-serving readings, all readings that aggrandize the interpreter, all merely clever readings. True interpretation of Scripture leads us into unqualified giving of our lives in service within the community whose vocation is to reenact the obedience of the Son of God who loved us, and gave himself for us.

We could apply this criterion fruitfully to all kinds of readings of Scripture, but for me (surprise, surprise) this resonates most strongly with the interpretation of the Song of Songs. The 'literal' interpretation so prevalent in the last 200 years has, it seems to me, singularly failed to meet this criterion, whereas the 'Christological' interpretation that was generally held before then, clearly achieved this kind of effect. And so it is that I begin with the premise that the effective interpretation is the 'true' one.

Richard Hays' book: 'Echoes of Scripture in the Letters of Paul' is a fascinating read and in lots of instances I find his readings of Paul highly persuasive. Basically, he takes a literary approach to the text, looking for allusions (though he prefers the term echo, since it doesn't require authorial intent) to the OT. He doesn't want to restrict Paul to any one hermeneutical methods, claiming that he is driven much more by his hermeneutical goal, which Hays thinks is primarily ecclesiological.

Having recently read Walter Kaiser's 'The Use of the Old Testament in the New', I find myself very much in sympathy with this statement:

to read Scripture as a book of messianic testimonies that point to the crucified Messiah, Jesus, requires a great deal more ingenuity than to read it as a narration that foreshadows God's purpose to raise up a worldwide community of people who confess his sovereignty and manifest his justice.

You'll see that Hays thinks the narrative of the bible is all important, and in this he sees the gospel as the expression of God's righteousness which both incorporates the Gentiles and maintains his promises to the Jews.

Hays does allow for Pauline 'echoes' from non-scriptural texts such as Sirach and Wisdom of Solomon, but he pays little attention to these.

The really interesting point is whether and how far Paul's 'methodology' should be a model for our own interpretation of both Old and New Testaments. He breaks this question into three components:

(i) Are Paul's actual interpretations of scripture normative?
(ii) Are Paul's methods exemplary?
(iii) What are the appropriate constraints on interpretive freedom?

Some would say: No, No, GHE
This is certainly consistent but hardly satisfactory for Christians.

Others (Longenecker): Yes, No, GHE
This is profoundly unsatisfactory in my view - essentially Longenecker argues that Paul gets the right answers by the wrong methods! And since these methods are a fundamental part of his message (ecclesiological and eschatological hermeneutics) Longenecker ends by undermining Paul absolutely.

No one really thinks: No, Yes, ?
Although I wonder if some who try to argue for a 'trajectory' model for understanding women's ministry/homosexuality/etc. are close to this.

Hays thinks: Yes, Yes, theological constraints NOT methodological ones
I basically agree, though I think there are methodological constraints (actually so does Hays, kind of) to do with being a 'good reader' which involves a lot more than traditional GHE and recognises the importance of the community of faith as the intended audience with the necessary spiritual insight to interpret the word.