The Promise of Not-Knowing: A New New Testament Reading

by David E Fredrickson

David E. Fredrickson asks a key question for interpreters of the New Testament in the twenty-first Do established ways of reading the New Testament need to be challenged and new ones explored? His answer is "yes," but he takes care not to dismiss readers' experiences in the previous two millennia. He values the readings of the past even as he contests the insights of scholars, preachers, monks, nuns, skeptics, the devout, the disinterested, the keenly interested, and all the rest who have tried to make sense of the earliest Christian writings. Fredrickson does not want to give an impression of "I know better than them." But he goes on to say that "strange as it sounds, not-knowing is actually the point of this book. More than anything else, not-knowing is, I believe, the key to reading the New Testament in the twenty-first century." Fredrickson claims that the reduction of a text to its usefulness is something a deconstructive approach seeks to avoid. That leads to readings in which practicality enjoys a privilege over mystery, knowing wins out over not-knowing, and control triumphs over hope. Ultimately, his goal in this book is to give mystery, hope, andnot-knowing a chance. For Fredrickson the experience of reading is more than coming to know something or receiving information, and the "more" that he has in mind exists in the shock of encountering some other or something that is not easily assimilated to an already known world, a familiar horizon, or the repeatability of language. What if reading the New Testament meant giving an unexpected other a chance to take place and to change the world you thought was an unchangeable given? What if we thought of reading as a way of preparing for what postmodernism calls an event ?

234 pages, Paperback

Published April 12, 2022

Reviews

[Mira Akbar · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was an eerie and fascinating work to journey through, and I'm left astonished and alert.

Let me try to explain... though as the author states, these words are rendered "dead" by their very nature. To really understand me, a "face to face" approach may be necessary. Still, I'll try to do what I can knowing we can't reach that understanding fully.

Fredrickson paints a convincing picture of a clear split within the Gospels and Epistles. A clear tradition, on one hand, of an exacting "phonocentric" textual analysis stemming from Stoic tradition. This view of writing and knowing leads to an aversion toward hope, and a view that scripture works in a straightforeward manner with rules and exact definitions. (He cites Matthew, Luke, Acts, and "false" Pauline Letters as examples)

But on the other hand, the genuine Pauline letters (as well as the gospel of Mark), present a"foolish" approach full of pathos. He argues that this is the core of Paul and Jesus' message, and that the writing creates newfound distance just as it creates a new closeness. He likens this to a stance that lovers have for each other, and cites unexpected sources ranging from Sappho to Derrida.

The end result is a convincing case for on the ground attempts at genuine hospitality and gift-giving, even though we can never be fully genuine in those efforts (just as we can never truly know each other, and just as the messiah ceases to be the messiah the moment he appears in the present.)

This all culminates in an abrupt conclusion that is not really a conclusion (as is fitting). I'm left feeling not unlike the women at the empty grave: Astonished, confused, emotional, and utterly awake.

I say all this knowing that you are understanding me as Paul states in Corinthians 13: Through a dim mirror. Perhaps though, like Jesus announcing in Mark, "reader understand", I can reach out to the ghost of you even as you read this ghost of me. Perhaps, in being jolted momentarily awake, you too might read this fascinating book and have your spirit awakened as mine has. And perhaps one day, we'll even meet face to face.

[Tim Callicutt · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is essentially a post-structuralist approach to biblical interpretation and there’s a lot to be gleaned here with some pretty major caveats. I overall found Fredrickson’s general goals here to be worthwhile. At their most basic, he wants us to get away from the Bible as something that holds a fixed meaning, but rather a work that invites us into a more imaginative sphere - one where the counter cultural values of grace and mystery reign supreme, rather than the static values of truth and control that are more traditionally manifested in most people’s religious experiences. To drive the point home, Fredrickson brings the entire historical-critical method to task while arguing that at least parts of the scripture seemingly invite us into this understanding of itself.

The postmodern in me was intrigued. A pretty consistent dialogue partner was John D. Caputo (and therefore Jacques Derrida). Fredrickson’s particular exploration of Derrida’s concept of “gift” by way of Caputo was a bit of a rehash but leveraged it towards more exegetical concerns, which was a welcome turn. In fact, Fredrickson is a gifted exegete. He is creative and passionate and, despite his ambiguous feelings about the historical-critical method, is willing to use its tools when necessary. He breathes fresh life into several texts and brings out the natural ambiguity that is often glossed over in most translations.

I also found his explorations of Stoicism’s effects on the biblical narrative enlightening. My affinity for the New Perspective have made me more attuned to the Jewish nature of many NT texts, often causing me to miss the Greek influences. He also provided a better argument for the difference between Pauline and deutero-Pauline letters than any other author that I’ve read (I spend more time with authors who are more ambivalent about the so-called consensus around deutero-Paul). This argument was more a starting point for Fredrickson rather than an outright goal, but it was an interesting off-shoot of his exploration of Stoicism.

With that being said, I obviously have a few significant reservations with Fredrickson’s approach. He is perhaps too post-structuralist for his own good when it comes to questions of canonicity. Fredrickson plays pretty loose here. He essentially argues that Stoicism is an intrusion into our canon and seems to encourage simply discarding the works of deutero-Paul and Luke-Acts. To be fair, he doesn’t state this approach plainly, but I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that he expresses disdain for these works. There’s a bit too much discontinuity with the larger Christian tradition for my tastes, particularly since he indicated that he would seek more of a middle ground between continuity and discontinuity with the rest of the tradition in his introduction. I think Fredrickson would benefit more from an approach similar to Brueggemann, who takes concerns of canon seriously without preventing a fully postmodern approach. The fact that these biblical traditions (Stoicism versus non-Stoicism) exist side-by-side probably reveal how both have something to offer the Christian community depending on the community’s particular context.

I noticed that Fredrickson also didn’t really address the ways in which these two traditions weave together within specific books. For example, he has a lot to say about the anti-authoritarian impulse of Romans, but seemingly ignores Paul’s natural theology of Romans 1 that by most reads would stand counter to general vibe Fredrickson reads into the rest of the letter. Also, he paints Mark as the only gospel that centers grace as the heart of Jesus’ ministry, with a particular contrast against Matthew. While I will admit that grace is not as prominent theme in Matthew as in Mark, it’s not as of it’s completely absent, particularly in Jesus’ concern for the marginalized - a piece that Fredrickson completely glosses over. I suppose that Fredrickson’s complaints about the historical-critical method could help explain this approach, but he still uses those tools pretty liberally, so it seems like picking and choosing.

Anyways, I think the church has something to gain from Fredrickson’s approach - but I wouldn’t embrace every part of his argument.