For what it’s worth, I see scripture as simple narrative, sometimes rough and sometimes rather polished but, like most stories, a bit messy and susceptible of several meanings. Philosophy and theology follow behind the narrative parade, cleaning up piles of inconsistency and creating a cleaner, more coherent whole. Personally, I think the philosophies of men, properly mingled, improve the end product.

Let us grant that the revelations are not best understood as instruction manuals, as statements that tell us what to do. Instead, they are calls to, questions placed upon, our hearts. Is there possibly, however, a rather difficult to discern line between treating the scriptures as instructions, and treating them as sources of particular questions? That is, not solely as words that lead us into and along through acts of general questioning, but as words that may (with a little bit of interrogation) be seen as asking very specific questions, and demanding a very specific orientation? Is there a point, in your view, where such an approach becomes identitical to simply looking for more explanations?

I ask this in light of many discussions I’ve had with friends of mine about the scriptures, pacifism, the war in Iraq (and President Hinckley’s sermon on such), etc. Some pacifists (just like some warmongers, of course) appear to approach the revelations very much as a manual to be proof-texted: there is a “lesson” on peace (or war) in there, somewhere, and they’re going to ferret it out. But others (Hugh Nibley, perhaps?) seem to want to just look at the story of the anti-Nephi-Lehis and allow the “terrible questions” to pose themselves. But of course the scriptures are editorially shaped narratives; rarely do stories stand in isolation from each other (the tale of the anti-Nephi-Lehis certainly doesn’t). So can there ever be any legitimate attempt to frame, isolate, and therefore construct, for specific purposes, the scriptures so that specific questions “pose themselves”? Or are all attempts of such posing (“What is the Lord challenging me to do or think in regards to (this) war?”) already, in your view, much too technical?

I actually find scripture to be rather satisfying philosophically. As Clark mentioned, we don’t have the definition of “phlosophy” pinned down precisely for the sake of this discusison, but I really like the sorts of questions suggested by Jim toward the end of his post.

The questions on which I ponder are often along these lines: “what’s the difference between a ‘law’ and a ‘commandment?'” or, “what does ‘obedience’ really mean?” Questioning all the assumptions I may have gained from places like Elder’s Quorum or anywhere else that aren’t supported by what I find in the text of the scriptures can be very enlightening (at least to my untrained mind).

If, when you call the scriptures “bad” philosophy, you mean that it takes the application of a little faith (which begs the question: just what do the scriptures mean by “faith?”) to understand them, you have a point. And if that diminishes their credibility as philosophical works, so be it.

I look at the scriptures simply as a tool. One that I have found useful as I work out my own salvation “with fear and trembling.” Perhaps it is because I feel like I am able to compartmentalize my study of the scriptures as an aid to my eternal progression from my study of them as intellectually fascinating (although I am fascinated by such stimulatingly intellectual discussion of them as have been presented here), but both approaches add to my enjoyment of them.

I strive for “understanding,” a word that I use to mean something like: “coming to truth through the interplay of reason and revelation.” Ultimately, we should develop a “complete understanding.” At which point, we are like God.

By the way, this post reminded me of an exchange I had in law school (University of Chicago, not BYU) with a non-Mormon classmate. He asked if I found Mormon doctrine to be intellectual coherent. Boy, what a tough question! I said something like, “Yes, to the extent that I understand it.” Of course, given what I just described in the prior paragraph, this is completely tautological. Nevertheless, the exchange led to a nice discussion about faith, which is a necessary adjunct and prerequisite to understanding.

http://library.lds.org/nxt/gateway.dll/Magazines/Ensign/1995.htm/ensign%20january%201995.htm/scripture%20reading%20and%20revelation.htm

The other is very interesting I’m sure to those of us familiar with postmodern hermeneutics as it discusses what we bring to the text.

http://library.lds.org/nxt/gateway.dll/Magazines/Ensign/1998.htm/ensign%20november%201998.htm/the%20living%20prophet%20%20our%20source%20of%20pure%20doctrine.htm

http://library.lds.org/nxt/gateway.dll/Magazines/Ensign/1985.htm/ensign%20november%201985%20.htm/spirituality.htm

Do you mean that you sometimes use the scriptures as a springboard for speculation, which speculation you find to be intellectually satisfying but not very useful in salvation?

I guess I meant to point out that the answers to questions such as, “Did Adam have a belly button?”, or “Was it essential that Joseph Smith translate the Book of Mormon?” don’t affect my testimony very much, but are interesting to think about.

By contrast, when using the scriptures as a tool in my spiritual growth, I might consider things like, “If the two greatest commandments are to love God and my neighbor, what exactly does that mean, and how can I do it better?”

In the context of Jim’s original post, I agree that we can ask questions that may not help us be better people, but I think that those questions don’t necessarily get in the way of our progression (if kept in perspective). We can enjoy the quasi-philosophical aspects of the scriptures on one hand, and use them in working out our salvation on the other. That’s what I meant by “compartmentalize” (although, if I were smart enough to comprehend all the details of Jim’s argument, I might well be convinced that one gets in the way of the other).

By the way, I tried to make the link to each of your comments but I couldn’t figure out how. I’m going to blame that on Nate. He said to click on the date that appears at the end of the post and the full text would appear. I clicked on various dates and got nothing. By clicking on “Comments” on the home page under the introduction to my post, I could get the comments, but the box in which they appeared had no web address. By clicking on either “Continue reading” or “Permanent Link” I could get the full text of my post and the responses, together, to appear, but not just the responses. In any case, the text of my post, with responses is to be found at: Click here

Dave: There’s no question that, from a rational point of view, the scriptures are rough and unpolished stories. Nor is there any question that philosophy and theology come along behind and clean up those stories. The question is whether the rational point of view is the best one for understanding what the stories do and teach. If it isn’t, then the cleaning up that philosophy and theology do is likely to change the purpose and meaning of the original story. For lots of reasons that I don’t have space to get into here, I don’t think the rational point of view is the best one for understanding the scriptures. As I said, that doesn’t mean that they are anti-rational (though, as I also mentioned, there are also anti-rational elements in them). It just means that they are something else. Thinkers like Paul Ricoeur and American narrative theologians have been thinking and writing about these issues for twenty years, so I can’t claim any credit for the ideas and I can only take blame for finding their ideas interesting and useful. (By the way, I’m more sympathetic to Ricoeur, in works like Time and Narrative, than I am to the narrative theologians.)

Clark (1): Though not all philosophy is the sort normally spoken of and, in fact, I’ve spent most of my professional career devoted to the sort of philosophy not normally spoken of in North America, I don’t think that the examples you give—Nietzsche, Voltaire, Rorty, and we could add Kierkegaard, Heidegger, and others—are in the same ballpark as scripture. The simplest way of saying what the difference is doesn’t require that I decide what philosophy is. (I don’t think I could do that.) It only requires noticing that scripture calls us to love God and repent and offers the kind of understanding appropriate to doing so. Philosophy doesn’t make that call nor does it offer that understanding. One might argue that some philosophers, Augustine and Kierkegaard come to mind, do what scripture does. If so, and I’m inclined to think that there is something to that possible objection, they do so derivatively, based on the call and understanding that comes in scripture (or in prophetic utterance), much as one of us might when giving a talk in Sacrament Meeting.

Russell: I think you’re right that there is not much difference between treating the scriptures as “how-to” manuals and assuming that they are the sources of particular question (questions that just happen to be our favorite ones). Perhaps there’s no difference at all. I’m suspicious of all attempts to frame the scriptures so that the questions I would like to deal with appear in them. For me, the most fruitful experience with scripture is when the question comes without bidding, and the best of those questions have been questions of me in particular: When you dealt with so-and-so today, did you fulfill your obligation to love your brother and neighbor? Or, as happened to me last week, “Have you been true to the calling and election you received at baptism?” Of course “without bidding” doesn’t mean “without work.” I often have to work hard at scripture study.

Logan: Since the topic has an anti-philosophical ring to it, you should feel free to chime in. I’m not sure what you were referring to when you said you liked the questions at the end of my post, but the kinds of things you say you find interesting strike me as good questions (though they may or may not be philosophical). But I think that a great deal of our discussion of them is informed much more by the hearsay we picked up in Primary or from a Seminary teacher or friend or parent—the kinds of things we say to each other all of the time, assuming that we know what we are talking about. Ask a class of Latter-day Saints what a covenant is and almost immediately someone will describe it as a contract. That can be the beginning of a good discussion: is it really like a contract? However, too often we end the discussion with the comparison rather than beginning a discussion. It may sound as if I’m speaking only of those in the Church who don’t have Ph.D.s, but I’m not. I think we all do that; we respond from habit and custom and what we have already decided rather than from a thoughtful response. Some have habits they got in graduate school, others do not, but habits are habits, and habits generally cover over the possibility of being brought up short. I think that the scriptures can be an antidote to habitual response. If we read them carefully, waiting for the questions that arise while we ask questions about what they mean, we will learn a great deal. So I would be interested in looking at how the scriptures use the words “law” and “commandment” rather than asking in an abstract way, “What’s the difference between the two?”

Gordon: I didn’t intend what I wrote to be a formula for scripture. I intended it to be a description of our relation to scripture, a description of how understanding occurs when we read scripture. But I recognize that many thoughtful Mormons, such as you, will disagree with what I said. Your disagreement isn’t just a sign that you didn’t understand me or that I didn’t explain myself well (though the latter of these is certainly possible). The difference between us is perhaps one of temperament. In your response you said that you strive for understanding and that ultimately we should develop a complete understanding. In contrast, I don’t see becoming like God as a matter of gaining understanding (though that comes along with it). I see it as a matter of learning to love as he loves. For me, therefore, even the passages of scripture that explain things should be understood as fundamentally provocations to love rather than to understanding.

Clark (2): I have always liked the two talks by Elder Oaks to which you referred us, and I also liked the talk by Elder Merrill Oaks. In it I especially liked Elder Lee’s question: “Have you ever thought that what was contrary to the order of heaven in 1840 might not be contrary to the order of heaven in 1960?”

Logan (2): Notice that the important questions, for me, are not the questions we ask, but the questions that we are asked as we study.

I think that when we speak of the scriptures not being philosophy it has much more to do with the how than the what. After all one can, from within the analytic philosophical tradition, discuss a lot of the same “whats” that scripture does. (I should hasten to add that typically they aren’t the focus of philosophers though)