Words or Images, Words and Images?

Do we think and interpret mostly in words or images?

From my couch, I can see a piece of cardstock. It’s hanging from a piece of string that is strung across the mantle of our fireplace.

But it’s not just any piece of paper.

It is red rectangle with a solid white boarder and measures about 2 ½ inches in width and 3 ½ inches in height. In the bottom right quadrant, a white triangle stands on its tip. Resting on top of the triangle are three green-hued half circle like spheres, stacked on top of one another.

It’s a birthday card. On its front is a drawing of an ice cream cone.

Sitting from the vantage point of my couch I’m able to look at the card, analyze its components and recognize it as “ice cream cone”. With virtually no effort my brain translates the image (red rectangle, triangle, spheres) into words (ice cream cone) and concepts (birthday card).

Certainly there is a strong correlation between images and words, pictures and concepts? But does one drive the other? This question came to a head when I read 17^th century theologian Polanus’ fine definition of Bible interpretation:

The interpretation of sacred Scripture is the exposition of the true sense and use of it, organized in clear words for the glory of God and for the edification of His Church.

While there is much to reflect upon here (e.g. “true sense” of scripture? I wonder how this term might play out in debates concerning the inspiration and infallibility of Scripture? Is there a supra-historical meaning of the text that lays beyond its historical form?), the words italicized above captured my fancy: interpretation of Scripture is “organized in clear words”. Reformation iconoclast tendency aside, Polanus suggests that the results of a detailed investigation into the true sense and use of Biblical words, stories, and texts are to be conveyed in “clear words”. Not images or pictures, but clear words.

Clarity in interpretation seems straightforward in theory and harder in practice. Anyone who has been given the task of conveying the Word of God knows clarity in interpretation is ¾ of the battle.

For me the issue is the use of words. Does Biblical interpretation preclude the use of images? And if not, do words take priority and precedent over images?

Bear in mind I ask this as someone who is much more verbal than visual. About the worst thing you could ask of me would be to give me a blank piece of paper and some paint and tell me to make something.

But the scenario with the card got me thinking, can images convey meaning beyond words? Do we need words to make sense of an image? In the case of Biblical interpretation (which following Polanius is not a historical-critical exercise drawn independent of a Biblical theology or ethic, but combination of the exposition of true words and events that give meaning to our world today), should the use of images be used concurrently with words?

Anybody have any thoughts on this?

Isaac of Stella on Multiple Possibilities of Meaning in Holy Scripture

“The Wisdom of God truly takes many shapes, even though it is very simple, and although it is uniformly one, it is nonetheless found to be many-sided in many ways …
For this reason it often happens that those who disagree about the same Scriptural passages or who espouse different ideas about things can be in the highest agreement or harmony with the Holy Spirit. This is only provided that there has been a decision made not to disagree with the truth of faith, the building up of charity, and the rooting out of cupidity. Everyone is vigilant about these matters when it comes to Sacred Scripture. Fore everyone involved is in agreement about things one way or another, at one time or another. But there is no room for choice between one Spirit and another. On both sides of the issue, as has been mentioned, there exists a harmonious relationship with truth and charity.” (Isaac of Stella. Cited in Henri de Lubac, Medieval Exegesis: Volume 1—The Four Senses of Scripture, p. 81. Emphasis mine.)

I believe that in these two brief paragraphs, 12^th century English theologian, philosopher, and Cistercian monk, Isaac of Stella deftly moves us to a point where we can begin to maneuver between two opposing tensions in understanding the Biblical witness: 1) the move towards an open reading of the Scripture where we read the Bible in concert with others with a critical openness to a plurality of voices and interpretations. This is the move towards Jerome and Origen’s “infinite forest of meaning”. It also is the move where the reader recognizes that Holy Scripture is a living Word that continues to reveal the character, person, and will of God. 2) The move towards a closed reading of Scripture where we narrow our reading towards a point where we can claim to identify what the text meant in its original setting and thus what it means today. In its most charitable, a closed reading simply qualifies Origen and Jerome by simply rejecting heterodox and heretical views. In its most extreme, it allows only one meaning of Scripture and rejects all other interpretations.

First, Isaac affirms what we have already noted: there are multiple interpretations of Scripture. This is obvious enough that it hardly seems worth noting. But Isaac does affirm that there are real differences of opinions. Conflicting opinions are not a semantic game of saying the same thing in different ways: “you say ‘bachelor’, I say ‘unmarried man.’ You say Revelation is like a historical political cartoon obscured by time and I say it’s as an eschatological document outlining the future events.” Make no mistake, the next time you are in a Bible study or are reading two books or hearing two sermons or having a conversation over a coffee and a genuine difference of interpretation arises, it is not likely you’re saying the same things different ways.

Second, Isaac, while recognizing that there are multiple possibilities of meaning, simultaneously recognizes there “can be in the highest agreement or harmony with the Holy Spirit.” It is often assumed that harmony or unity requires total conformity as if we’re grieving the Spirit by reaching different conclusions. Naively, people sometimes point the existence of denominations as proof of the total disunity of the Christian Church as if their mere existence was an affront to God. Similarly, divergent possibilities of meaning seem to negate a Spirit-guided reading of Scripture because if the Spirit is a Spirit of unity and truth how could two people come to opposite opinions? Interestingly, Isaac doesn’t seem particularly troubled by multiple possibilities of meaning as long as the opinions are reached in the Spirit, according to the rule of faith, and with the posture of charity. (Of course, the East/West split notwithstanding, the Church was relatively normalized, at least compared to today.)

Isaac’s qualifications are huge. Much too large to squeeze into one blog post. But they point us in a good direction: one of charity and generosity where the person sitting next to might know as much as you do. Briefly, the rule of the Spirit involves an understanding of Holy Scriptures where the one Holy Spirit legitimately guides two prayerful people into two different possibilities of meaning. Although there are surface differences that cannot be discounted as differences there is a structural unity provided by the testimony of the Holy Spirit. The structural unity or foundation is found in a commitment to what Isaac calls “the truth of faith”. Alternately this might be called the rule of faith. In architecture, two buildings might take very different forms with two very different purposes. A hospital is not a house even though they are both buildings were people can sleep, cook, and eat. However, the two buildings are sound when they adhere to fundamental rules of design. Similarly, a Spirit led reading of Scripture that arrives a different interpretation is sound as long as it corresponds to the rule of faith—those things that all Christians at all times hold to be essential and fundamental to the Christian faith.

Multiple Possibilities of Meaning in Holy Scripture

In one of his letters, Church Father Jerome described scripture as “in infinite forest of meanings”. Likewise the towering Origen referred to the vastness of Biblical interpretation as “the exceedingly broad forest of Scripture.”

In the esteem of these two great minds, Scripture defies easy explanation. Instead the world of the Bible is a vast and sprawling forest. It is a world that is rich and lust. It is a world that is full of twists and turns. It is a world that defies simple solutions. It is a world that opens up new discoveries around every bend. It is a world that never exhausts its riches. It is a world of multiple possibilities of meaning.

With the poetic license of a Jerome or an Origen, the infinite forest of multiple possibilities is an alluring prospect. This touches the nerve of the Protestant sola scriptura by identifying the thickness of Scripture. As an infinite forest full of multiple possibilities of meaning, the Bible is alive and active today. It is more than capable of speaking truth and providing direction in the labyrinth of today and tomorrow’s moral quandaries. The faith of late 18th century France, the urban American church of the 21st century, and the rice patty farmers of Southeast Asia all read the same Scripture but with different eyes. Each person or group enters that broad forest and gleans meaning.

Yet, at the same time, I think there is uneasiness in affirming multiple possibilities of meaning. One of the core understandings of Biblical exegesis is thinking of it as a process that seeks to penetrate what the Biblical text meant as it left the pen of the Biblical author (or was edited by his redactor, or arranged by his editor, etc.). This view of exegesis seems to tip our hat to the impossibility of multiple meanings. The task of the interpreter is to come to the correct meaning of the text and correctly convey that text to his or her modern audience.

Is this not the very nature of a commentary? The commentator researches the historical context. He places the book in a literary, grammatical, and canonical setting. She uses all the tools of ancient and modern research to penetrate the old forms of thoughts. He converses with other commentators along the road, voicing his pleasure or disapproval. At the end, she offers her analysis on what the text means.

And what of heterodoxy or heresy? Certainly, we might all agree, the forest of Scripture isn’t infinite. There is a boundary between the lushness of orthodox Biblical meaning and the wasteland of heresy. There are certain interpretations that exclude other interpretations.

Is it possible to have it both ways? Can one, with Origen and Jerome, affirm the possibility of multiple possibilities of meaning and guard against heterodox meanings? Can one read two commentators who come to differing conclusions about the significance of a text and agree with both? Is it possible to attend two churches and hear two sermons on the same text and agree the Word of God has been proclaimed? Is there a via media that simultaneously affirms both the wideness and narrowness of the Biblical world?

I believe there is. I hope to explore this a bit over the next few weeks. As a thought experiment I’m going to look at some authors, past and present, who have attempted this same process.

My hope is that my next blog will look at Irenaeus and Isaac of Stella and the deposit or truth of faith and the place charity plays in interpretation.