Editor's Introduction to the Articles
Dov Nelkin
University of Virginia
This issue of the Journal of Scriptural Reasoning considers
the potency and problematics of the language of sexuality and desire as
a mode of describing, either directly or by way of metaphor, the
encounter with God. Two of the papers contributed, by Ellen Davis and
Alon Goshen-Gottstein, come to this topic while exploring the fertile
landscape of the Song of Songs. The third, by Omid Safi, encounters
similar territory while traversing the luxuriant language of the Sufi
Path of Love.
The Society of Scriptural Reasoning draws its energy and inspiration
from an understanding that there is a special quality to the encounter
when a community of academics read scripture as scripture. Justified by
the success of the practice of Scriptural Reasoning, on terms defined
from within that practice and by the practitioners, the SSR typically
brackets the question of what defines scripture, allowing that the
question has been answered historically, by the acceptance of certain
texts within these communities we designate here as Abrahamic —
those historical communities shaped by the traditions and scriptures of
Judaism, Christianity and Islam.
As a community of reasoners, however, the Society must return to the
questions it has bracketed. As such, the question of canon and the
nature of scripture are central to this issue of the journal. As is
typical for the society, such questions arise out of a reading of
scripture. The questions, as well as a multiplicity of responses, arise
out of our engagement with sacred texts and with one another. Two of
the contributed papers address and continue the historical controversy
over the Song of Songs, recognizing that its inclusion in the scriptural
canon, even if warranted, nonetheless raises questions not presented by
the inclusion of Jeremiah, or even Job.
For Alon Goshen-Gottstein, the Song of Songs remains a problematic
text, distinct from other sacred writings, only available as scripture
once transformed by the glosses of its long chain of interpreters.
Ellen Davis, on the other hand, understands the Song as a reparative
text, perfectly at home within the canon as an intertextual response
from within the canon to the ruptured relationships described in
antecedent scriptural texts. The Song intentionally echoes the language
used elsewhere in scripture to chastise Israel, transforming that
language into an expression of love. Perhaps because the prophets used
the language of infidelity to describe Israel’s sins, the Song of
Songs responds in the language of sensuality and sexuality.
This volume of the journal also forces us to examine our sense of a
shared scriptural canon, since the Qur’anic canon does not
include the Song of Songs or a parallel text. Instead, from the Muslim
side, we have a paper by Omid Safi that considers non-scriptural texts
that incorporate the lush language of love and sexuality in a manner
immediately familiar to interpreters of the Song. At the same time, the
debate about the Song’s place in the canon may shed light on the
relationship between the canon and those extra-canonical texts that
occupy a privileged station within the interpretive tradition. The texts
Safi discusses are themselves readings of Scripture. The recognition by
the Sufi interpreters of the transformative powers of Scripture within a
community, and their concern for revivifying Scriptural texts by
challenging the identification of stagnant interpretations with the text
itself, bear a familial resemblance to the approach to Scripture
exemplified by the Society.
The ruptures in the Society’s self-understanding, occasioned
by problematic location in the canon of both the Song and the Sufi path,
provide occasions for healing. Fundamental to Scriptural Reasoning is
that we study together despite our differences, cultural, theological,
and other. We delight when we discover commonality but we learn when we
encounter difference. We come to terms with these differences, and
struggle with our history and our texts. We do not do so by ignoring or
minimizing the disagreements nor even the ruptures, but by engaging in
the reparative practice of reading and reasoning together.
Davis’ interpretation suggests that without the ruptures in
the relationship between Israel and God, we would be denied the beauty
and reconciliation of the Song. Similarly, Goshen-Gottstein notes that
the Song’s refusal to be readily assimilated into the scriptural
canon perhaps transforms it into a key for reading the rest of
scripture. What first appears to stand in the way of interpretation
instead leads to a deeper level of understanding. The key for
Scriptural Reasoners is to recognize this truth of both scriptural texts
and of each other.
The Papers
Alon Goshen-Gottstein provides a
two-part framework for his understanding of Scriptural Reasoning.
Recognizing that the two are interrelated in practice, Goshen-Gottstein
nonetheless distinguishes between "Thinking of" scripture is the more
abstract level, at which we determine the meaning of a scriptural text,
or "how we understand its message." At this level, one applies all of
one's critical, analytic, and academic skills. However, as is also
argued by Ellen Davis, Goshen-Gottstein asserts that even at the
academic level, understanding Scripture involves "the heart and the
intuition, along with the critical faculties of the discursive
intellect." On the other hand, "'Thinking with' means how we allow
scripture to shape us." That is to ask, once we understand a scriptural
text, how do we allow that understanding to shape and transform the ways
we actually live our lives?
Goshen-Gottstein draws our attention to the crisis, both within the
academy and, to a lesser extent, outside it, whereby an
over-accumulation of knowledge about scripture can overwhelm us, to the
point that we can at best "think of" scripture but lack resources to
move beyond this stage and "think with" these most important texts. As
he notes, the Society was formed in part as a response to this very
crisis.
However, in confronting the Song, Goshen-Gottstein does not see a way
of moving beyond the "thinking of." He writes that this is not a
function merely of the layers of academic interpretation that stand
between him and the Song, but the centuries of traditional
interpretation and the myriad of Jewish and Christian commentaries to
the Song. In continuing the process of justifying the Song's place in
the canon, a process that began at the point of its inclusion, these
interpreters have provided "tremendous Spiritual wealth" at the cost,
Goshen-Gottstein writes, of our (or at least his) ability to "think
with" the Song itself.
In particular, Goshen-Gottstein takes issue with the suggestion that
the Rabbis understood the Song of Songs to be an allegory for the love
between Israel and God. In doing so, he leaves open the possibility
that early Christian interpreters (e.g. Origen) and later Jewish
interpreters (e.g. Rav Kook) are correct in so understanding the Song.
The Rabbis, Goshen-Gottstein
writes (agreeing with Daniel Boyarin's work), were not interested in
reading the Song as one coherent unit, as allegory would demand.
Rather, they used the verses as expressions of praise, considering each
phrase is a discrete unit: "each individual verse of the Song can serve
as a prism, through which other aspects of Scripture, or of the
spiritual reality of Israel, can be refracted." The Song, then, "is
never read for itself." Goshen-Gottstein, on this account, discovers
himself to be merely rabbinic in his inability to "think with" the Song.
However, as he notes, the Song is not treated uniquely by the rabbis,
all Scriptural texts are fair game for intertextual interpretation. The
Song's strength, however, is that it is uniquely suited to ascribe
praise.
If the Song is not treated in a unique manner by the rabbis, does
that make problematic Goshen-Gottstein's understanding of the Song as
particularly immune to "thinking with"? He concludes with the
possibility that the difficulty of interpreting the Song without
recourse to the long traditions of interpretation may in fact be a
pointer to a similar need for all Scripture. Where other texts appear to
yield their "true" or "intended" meaning or meanings, the Song denies
that fruit from its beloved. Perhaps, Goshen-Gottstein suggests, the
human and communal factors required to give meaning to the Song are in
fact required of all Scriptural interpretation.
Ellen Davis begins with the
provocative suggestion that we accept the Song of Songs on the same
terms as the rabbis who secured its place in the canon. Standing
"almost alone" among contemporary biblical scholars, Davis writes that
the Song "really is, in large part, about the love that obtains between
God and Israel — or, more broadly, between God and humanity." In
this paper, she does not address Goshen-Gottstein's challenge to this
understanding of the Rabbis' interpretation. However, as noted above,
Goshen-Gottstein allowed that the Song might be about love, only
rejecting the position that the rabbis so understood its significance.
Davis sees in the Song a return to the Garden of Eden (and the Garden of
the Temple), "imaginatively healing the ruptures that occurred there:
between man and woman, between humanity and God, between human and
non-human creation."
There are two levels to Davis' commentary here. The first, of
course, is her interpretation of the Song. The second becomes clear in
her analysis of the difference between the ways that she and André
LaCocque interpret the Song of Songs.
Standing with LaCocque in seeing the Song as authored as a response
to extant Scriptural texts, Davis diverges sharply from his position in
her understanding of authorial intent. Where Davis sees the Song's
intertextuality as repairing the rifts described in earlier scriptural
texts, LaCocque sees subversive use of sacred language in the service of
human emotion and desire.
The Song, according to Davis, rethematizes the antecedent scriptural
tradition: where previously one finds the dichotomy of
obedience/disobedience, the Song substitutes desired intimacy and fear
of its loss. The sharpness of her disagreement with LaCocque, Davis
notes, points to the inherent subjectivity of interpretation. Like
Goshen-Gottstein, Davis sees the subjectivity as a necessary component
of all scriptural interpretation and especially interpretation of the
Song. This leads Davis not to interpretative relativism, but to a
"practice of interpretive humility."
Davis suggests that the Song be understood as an "icon." Two aspects of this
understanding are crucial from the standpoint of the Scriptural
Reasoning: the first is that text as icon "is an image of this
world…as seen in the light of God's glory. It affirms that our
historical, sensible experience is the basis of our experience of God,
yet at the same time it suggests that features of what we call 'reality'
are more supple than we generally suppose." The second is that per
Davis an icon represents an image of the world, but one that "does not
reflect 'universal human experience".
The SSR shares this understanding of reality and of our way of
encountering God. The Society does not pretend that we live in a
redeemed age. Rather, the Society is a response to the false dichotomy
we face after the Enlightenment, according to which we must choose
between humanistic rejections of the Abrahamic resources and
neo-Orthodox anti-modernism. Against this either/or proposition, the
Society follows Davis in recognizing that while we do experience God and
are transformed by the encounter, we do so only within the limits of
being historically and culturally situated humans.
In Scripture, we encounter the Divine. This is mediated by our being
human (and therefore finite). This finitude is not a failing, but
rather an essential aspect of our humanity. The depth of Scriptural
resources, the possibility of finding something "new" within, is
explicable in part as a function of the finite encountering the
infinite. Scripture, like the icon, does not reflect "universal human
experience," largely because such a thing does not exist. It is on this
point that the two levels of Davis' essay come together. The demand for
interpretive humility experienced in the face of the subjectivity of
scriptural interpretation is reinforced by the Song's iconic nature.
While the Society finds value in the shared reading of scriptural
texts by members of the Jewish, Christian, and Muslim interpretive
communities, it does not minimize the differences between (and within)
these communities. As Davis notes of the icon, the reality experienced
in the encounter with the Divine is "peculiar and only minimally
intelligible." Where we find interpretive agreement between the
communities, we hypothesize that there is substantive agreement in the
way we experience reality.
I must confess to initial surprise at how large an area of overlap
exists between these traditions within an issue of the journal concerned
with Love, that which is experienced as a most intensely particular form
of reality.
Perhaps Omid Safi provides an answer
for this overlap among Scriptural Reasoners of the three different
traditions when he writes that "Scripture [is] a Love-letter and love
the greatest of God's mysteries."
The Sufi tradition recognized that the sharp distinction was between
those who had and those who had not experienced love. 'Ayn al-Qozat,
cited by Safi, insisted that, "Of love one can only speak with lovers.
Only a lover knows the true value of love. One who has not experienced
it considers it all a legend"
For this reason, Safi's essay fits comfortably alongside the two
essays devoted to the Song of Songs, although it of course does not
touch on that text. As Basit Koshul
notes in his comment, all "are engaged in a common endeavor — using
scripture and the interpretation of scripture to understand/explicate
the meaning of love." That theme, important but tangential to the other
essays, is the central focus of Safi's presentation.
Like Davis and Goshen-Gottstein, Safi sees the subjective as a
critical component of Scriptural interpretation. He goes beyond the
other two in identifying this subjectivity as an essential aspect of the
interpreter's path to God. Subjectivity is critically important because
only through internal seeking can God be discovered and loved.
Safi suggests that the Sufis saw ambiguity and paradox as tools for
breaking through that human tendency to reify religion and lose the
power of seeking and encountering God. Goshen-Gottstein's suggestion
that the difficulties one encounters in interpreting the Song of Songs
might be a key to understanding the need for human interpretation of
Scripture seems to find an analogue here. "Love," writes one of the
Sufi masters quoted by Safi, "is a sweetness, but its inner reality is
bewilderment." That Goshen-Gottstein is troubled uniquely by the Song
of Songs, and yet focuses his attention on it finds an echo in the Sufi
tradition as well, with Safi quoting Ahmed Ghazali, "Love is an
affliction and I am not about to abstain from affliction."
As Safi discusses the "Path of Love," describing a dominant Sufi
tradition, he also narrates the historical path that this tradition took
in developing its conception of Love, both of humans and of God. A term
('ishq) initially dismissed as overly human (i.e. erotic)
eventually comes to be used of love for God; this Divine love is then
recognized as the primary form of love, the human love once so named is
ultimately seen as a metaphorical approximation of spiritual desire —
or, at best, a stage on the path to that latter goal. The ways that
different interpreters have understood the Song of Songs clearly have
parallels here.
Safi notes that the structure of most writings on human desire/love
for God points to the utter dependence upon God, the beloved. He cites
Ghazali as pressing the concept of God as the beloved to a recognition
that, as beloved, God also needs the lover/worshiper. While protecting
God's essence from such "imperfection," the Sufis suggested that God as
Creator, in relation with the Creation, was in fact needful of being
loved.
How one relates to one's traditions is a central theme of Sufi Islam
as Safi characterizes it. He writes that Sufi leaders were experts in
the traditions they repeatedly exhorted their students to transcend.
What was expected of the Sufi was to engage the tradition, but also to
remember that the tradition is a tool aimed at transcending one's
current spiritual state on the path to encountering and loving God.
When one's goal becomes conformity with a particular sectarian approach,
one loses the spontaneity demanded of one who looks to God with love,
suggest the mystics Safi discusses.
It seems to me that Scriptural Reasoning relates to its antecedent
traditions and texts in much the same way as the Sufi mystics did (and
do). We struggle with Scripture and its traditional interpretation
because they both challenge us and provide resources through which we
can respond to the challenges (intellectual, cultural, political) we
face today. Even so, we reexamine our traditions to see where we (and
our predecessors) have mistaken one possible understanding of a text as
the text itself. Often, in these cases, another interpretation would
yield greater fruit in the contemporary world.
Faced with suffering unveiled within or through a text, Scriptural
Reasoning does not instantly transform the world. As the icon points to
an alternative reality, through Scriptural study we develop resources
for recognizing where the world needs such transformation. Encountering
others in need, we recognize our Beloved, and see our Beloved anew and
with eyes refreshed. Our recognition of another in need is experienced
as a call to love, a call to action, and also a call to further
study.
© 2003, Society for Scriptural
Reasoning
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