A few months ago, my 2-year old daughter took a sudden interest in Dora the Explorer. Likely, her grandmother had something to do with it, but the fact remains that Claire suddenly is as excited by the mere mention of Dora's name as I get about the latest computer technology. As a matter of fact, just mentioning Dora's name sometimes can turn sour moments into happy ones - for everyone involved!
I was blown away by how quickly this became clear to me when our evening bedtime routine changed almost overnight. One night, looking for books to read, I was asked by Claire repeatedly to "read Dora!". After asking my wife a few questions, I discovered we actually owned a Dora book, which had been given to us by friends. Pulling it out of the stack, I began to read. And in the 2 minutes it took to read, my daughter became so enthralled with it that she asked for it to be read again - and again and again.
Being the good parents my wife and I are, we did this for days on end without complaint, knowing in the end it was making everyone sleep happier. As a matter of fact, knowing Claire enjoyed Dora so much (and no longer being able to tolerate the same book) we naturally made an effort to get her more Dora books. Or, the cheapskates we are, we got her 1 big book with 6 different stories in it. As you can predict, this has meant we are now reading her multiple stories over and over each night. But it has allowed us to engage her interest for Dora more often without getting bored as fast.
The reason for this post is that I recently noticed something in one of the Dora stories that I think helps teach a great lesson about context, and how we interpret books (ie, the Bible) when we read them. In this story, Dora finds a kite that is stuck in a tree, and rushes off with Boots to rescue it. But that is only the start of the adventure. Their goal? To take the kite to the nearby Rainbow Kite Festival, where a myriad of colorful kites play happily under a smiling rainbow at the top of a mountain.
Upon finally making it to the top of the mountain, Dora's excitement is almost dashed when she discovers the rainbow to have disappeared. The kite she has spent so much time bringing to the festival may not have a chance to enjoy the rainbow after all. Of course, Dora being the optimist she is, has no fear and merely proceeds to call for the rainbow to re-appear. And, like magic, the rainbow promptly responds - Dora acknowledging it for having listened and returned. All problems solved! The kites may now enjoy the rainbow a little while longer, and Dora has given the lost kite a dream vacation.
So where in this is a context lesson, you're asking? The lesson came when I noticed Dora's ability to make rainbows appear on command. I struggled with the logical implications of this. Dora, a mere youth of school age, should not be able to command rainbows to appear whenever she likes. Rainbows are tricks of light reflecting off water, after all. Does she really have that kind of control over nature? Only God should be able to perform such a supernatural feat! How dare the author of Dora the Explorer even think to write this into a story for kids!
Of course, I am joking here. These were the parody thoughts I immediately conjured while reading the book. I clearly recognize that, as a children's book, the author's intention is not to paint Dora as able to command light to reflect off water at her whim. Dora is not intended to be some sort of "nature god" or buddhist monk. It is just a device for entertaining children, ensuring the story has an appropriate climax involving the rainbow. It's as much a source of delight for children as it is for the imaginary kites.
But, had I not considered any of this, do you see where I could have easily decided to picket against the creators of Dora and all of Nickelodeon? I could have recruited Westboro Baptist to drive across country and join me in a trip to Broadway. We could hold up all sorts of "Dora is Satanic" signs (though I imagine someone in the Westboro crowd would still bring their signature "God Hates Fags" signs). I could then give Nickelodeon headquarters an earful for their attempts to trick kids from believing in God. While I'm at it, I could mention how it's anti-science as it does not accurately portray rainbows as a phenomena of light reflecting off water.
The moral of the story is that what an author intends to write is critically important to how a story should be interpreted when read. Yes, I realize some stories can be purposely ambiguous for the sake of art and critical thinking (A Modest Proposal comes to mind), but aside from that it would have been stupid to start a campaign decrying the creators of Dora as Satanic and threatening people to stop buying Dora merchandise. It would have shown a severe inability to grasp the intent of the story. I would have been laughed at on YouTube and parodied by over a dozen amateurs.
The problem - much as it would be for uninformed readers of A Modest Proposal (read it if you haven't!) - would be taking the words too literally, ignoring the obvious (but subtle) cues indicating the work's genre (children's literature) - this is clearly a fantasy tale for kids. It was never on the author's mind to make a statement about nature or control over it. It was only an attempt to engage the imagination of preschoolers. It was not an intention to form a theology or develop a worldview on the supernatural - just to form a world where children straddle the line between fantasy and reality.
At this point, you're thinking "that seems clear; what can we learn about the Bible from this? Does it have to do how certain cults interpret the Bible?" Well, yes and no. Not unlike the series on Marriage Myths, it has more to do with ways in which cults and orthodox believers alike misread the Bible while trying to present it as unchangeable theology, self-obvious to anyone who would just let the Holy Spirit teach them (except, apparently, discern whether or not their "feelings" are from the Spirit). Instead, the only thing obvious should be a greater level of study is needed amongst those who accept responsibility for teaching the Bible (James 3:1 comes to mind).
To illustrate this, there are many examples I encountered in my own studies, where thinking about an author's intent reversed something I understood about the Bible. In addition, it became easier to avoid embarrassment when further defending my faith. Of these examples, I will outline at least 3 for you here, some of which are no doubt controversial. But when I am done, I hope you further consider the role author's intent plays in your own studies.
The first example is one relevant to recent Christian news and speaks volumes to the need for change in the current environment of Christian theology. It starts with a book published in October 2010 by Mike Licona called The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach. To date, this book is the greatest and weightiest defense of the Resurrection of Jesus as a historical event (this is important to note!). It is a milestone in the history of Christian scholarship, building on the work of previous scholars and at the same time clarifying how the method is consistent with proper studies of ancient history.
At one point in the book, Licona speculates whether or not Matthew 27:51-3 was intended by it's author to be taken as literal history. To make his case, Licona compares this scripture to similar examples of "extraordinary" events in ancient literature. He then expounds on how the known intent of such authors was not to report literal history, but to clue readers in to the significance of other events. Hence, it is possible that the author of Matthew is doing the same (considering there are other potential issues seeing the event as real).
In short, Licona is saying what already appears to be a strange event in the Bible may have possibly been intended by its author to highlight the significance of Jesus' death to 1st century readers, rather than report a real event for 20th century westerners. Sounds simple, right? One would only hope that the rest of Christendom were smart enough to follow. Well, perhaps, but this is not for the great and wise Norman Geisler
One of the most prominent names in Christian philosophy and apologetics, Geisler made a public online campaign to insult and rebuke Mike Licona over suggesting that this may not have been considered a real event. Enough condemnation was raised over the event to even cost Licona his university job. And why? Precisely because in Geisler's world, and that of much of the SBC honchos supporting him, such a notion betrays a more literal reading of the passage. Clearly, it mentions a bunch of people were ressurected, and the gospels intend to represent 100% historical events in every chapter and verse.
I will not elaborate on the full extent of the controversy here - much more interesting analysis can be found at the Tekton Ticker. But it is sufficient to notice that Geisler never considered a number of things before starting his tirade. First, that Licona only admits the plausibility of his interpretation. He never lifts it up with full confidence, and later would go on to make a case for why he still thought the event was historical. None of this matters to Geisler (whose attitude is representative of the more prominent understandings of "Biblical innerancy"), who sees little more than a violation of the principles that uphold the foundations of Biblical interpretation. That is, clearly the author's intent should never be considered to be anything other than 100% history.
The fallout from this event has been interesting to watch, and no doubt it has given many Bible skeptics and atheists reasons to further expect the Christian theology kingdom to crumble under the weight of it's unacknowledged absurdity. And for what? To reject the notion that an author's intent might be more important than what we want to read out of a passage? It is no wonder things like Marriage Myths are perpetrated as fact: the same reasoning would have genre, social and cultural contexts in the Bible be irrelevant to meaning.
In short, I am not questioning the innerancy of the Bible, as Geisler might accuse me and Licona of doing. I am merely highlighting how Biblical innerancy has been defined for a majority of Christians - as something existing in a vacuum where context is irrelevant unless given to me by a pastor or popular author. Can we really afford, as Christ's earthly representatives and soldiers of God's army, to continue to represent ourselves this way as the world moves on and gains understanding of the cultures around it?
Of course, I said I would share more examples, and so I shall...in the next part of this series. For now, thanks for following me and taking every thought captive on this issue! The true mental challenges are yet to come!
