Epistemology and the Old Testament

Review of Richard L Smith’s,

Such a Mind as This: A Biblical-Theological Study of Thinking in the Old Testament

(Eugene, Oregon: Wipf & Stock, 2021), xxvi + 418 pp.

Does the Bible have anything to say about epistemology?  This is a question that I have pondered for quite some time. Until quite recently, little attention had been paid to this question by biblical scholars, with some even rejecting the idea of the Bible yielding a coherent theory of knowledge. Richard Smith’s Such a Mind as This, is a significant contribution to the recent spate of serious work that has been done by way of articulating a biblical epistemology. Smith is an international citizen and scholar, having received his Doctorate from Westminster Theological Seminary, then serving for a while in Prague, and now living in Argentina where he is involved in writing, teaching, and mentoring  students.

In Such a Mind as This, Smith limits himself to the Old Testament which he says calls us repeatedly to what he delightfully labels “intellectual piety” – loving God with our minds (xxiii).  “The Old Testament shows that we are built for intellectual curiosity. God wants us to ask questions – and to find answers in his communication to us.  Indeed, God created the whole world as a school in which every experience is an invitation to think and learn” (xxii). This is a good summary of the book.

The book is organized around three questions (xxiv). The first:  How did Adam and Eve think before the fall?  Chapters 1 & 2 give us a careful exposition of an Edenic epistemology as found in Genesis 1 & 2. God created a world and situated Adam and Eve in his creation as thinkers. Smith introduces a theme that runs throughout the book – God’s covenantal relation with his creation, including humankind. God modelled for Adam and Even how to represent his interests in the garden as apprentice rulers, builders, investors and thinkers. This covenant also relates to epistemology. There is no knowledge apart from the covenantal bond between the Creator and creation. Adam and Eve were called to listen to God in order to understand the world they lived in. God taught them through nature, guided pedagogy and speech (23). Adam and Eve were “embedded within a web of meaning and infrastructure imposed by the Creator” (41). They were not “epistemologically autonomous” but were called to humbly submit to God and the world that he had created (41-2).

Sadly, the biblical story continues with a description of the fall of Adam and Eve in Genesis 3-11, which leads to their banishment from Eden. This brings us to the second question of Old Testament epistemology.  How does mankind think after the fall?  Smith describes the resulting “exilic epistemology” in Chapters 3-7 of his book.  Here he follows Dru Johnson in highlighting the basic question raised in Genesis 3-11: Who we are listening to? Prior to the fall, Adam and Eve listened to God. They then made the tragic mistake of listening to the crafty serpent and trusting their own eyes and their own understanding when they looked at the forbidden tree and saw “that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes” (Gen 3:6). “They set themselves up as the final arbiters of truth, the judges of good and evil, and the ultimate interpreters of reality” (63). God is now deemed to be “epistemologically irrelevant” (72).

Smith goes on to illustrate exilic epistemology in three different ways.  Chapter 4 describes intellectual sinfulness as embodied in the worldview of Egypt and the mentality of Pharoah. Both Moses and Pharoah witness the same dramatic plagues, but they don’t evaluate them from an epistemologically neutral position. Pharoah is guided by his religious worldview and self-identity as a son of Re.  Moses interprets the wonders of God in terms of Hebrew cosmology, Yahweh’s counsel, and the covenant with Abraham (88).   Chapter 5 examines the self-directed quest for knowledge related by Qohelet (the Preacher) in the book of Ecclesiastes, resulting in confused and contradictory depictions of reality. Lesson to be drawn from Ecclesiastes: “be ever vigilant about mixed-bag epistemologies and worldviews” (117).  Chapter 6 provides a helpful analysis of the book of Proverbs which is organized “almost entirely around the theme of two ‘ways’: two life paths (wisdom and folly), two worldviews (Yahweh and other gods), and two guides (Lady Wisdom and Lady Folly)” (121). This double perspective is summarized in Proverbs 1:7. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.”

Chapter 7 examines exilic epistemology as described by the prophets, Isaiah and Jeremiah. Isaiah begins with an expression of God’s yearning for his people to truly understand. “Come now, let us reason together” (Isa 1:18).  Instead we get one of the most poignant summary explanations of unbelief found in the Old Testament, where Israel is described as hearing but not really understanding, seeing, but not really perceiving, and as having hearts that have become dull (Isa 6:9-10). Jeremiah too is called to address a “foolish and senseless people, who have eyes but see not, who have ears but hear not” (Jer 5:21). Chapter 7 concludes with what are perhaps the most alarming verses in the Bible: “But my people did not listen to my voice; Israel would not submit to me. So I gave them over to their stubborn hearts, to follow their own counsels” (Ps 81:11-12).  What an accurate description of contemporary epistemological relativism.

There is a third epistemological question that is addressed in the Old Testament and that is highlighted by Smith in the remaining half of Such a Mind as This: How does a sinner learn to love God with the mind? Chapters 8-14 describe a “redemptive epistemology,” a penultimate stage in God’s story of creation, fall into sin, redemption, and restoration (217). These chapters begin with a call to repentance as a first step in escaping the ravaging effects of sin. Here we are given an exposition of themes in Isaiah and Psalm 94 which highlight the need for repentance.  A redemptive epistemology starts by affirming two essential truths about human knowing: finitude and fallenness (214). We need to repent of our lust for autonomy. Noah and Abraham are described as examples of a humble epistemology which reverses the sin of Adam and Eve in that they really listen to God’s voice.

The next two chapters are devoted to the book of Deuteronomy which Smith describes as “the Rosetta stone of redemptive epistemology” (219). Here we learn that a redemptive epistemology recognizes that Yahweh Elohim demands absolute and universal adoration, as expressed in six covenantal announcements using the formula “Hear O Israel,” known as  Shemas, the best known of which is found in Deuteronomy 6:5. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.” Deuteronomy also gives us a pedagogical infrastructure which is devoted to nurturing intellectual piety, or “such a mind as this,” a heart and mind that fears God and keeps all his commandments (Deut 5:29).

Chapters 11 & 12 examine the book of Job as “a real-world test of redemptive epistemology under extreme pressure” (291). It is not often that the book of Job is treated from an epistemological point of view, but the result is a fascinating and insightful interpretation of this story. “The book of Job shows that our epistemological context is very complex. We often imagine ourselves as self-directed and self-sufficient thinkers” (315). Job learned otherwise when in the end he encounters God who asks him, “Who is this who darkens knowledge by words without knowledge” (Job 38:2). What an assault on the modern ideal of autonomy. Smith describes Job as “an Old Testament epistemic hero” (344).  “He demonstrated how to love God with the mind in the real world of sin and enigma” (344).

The final two chapters wrestle with the problem of practicing a redemptive epistemology within a context that is hostile to God and his revelation.  Chapter 13 examines Jeremiah’s advice about discerning God’s voice in the midst of the disorientation that would be part of impending exile. The chapter concludes with a brief meditation on Psalm 137. “How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?” (Ps 137:4). The final chapter provides a more positive answer to the plaintive question raised in Psalm 137 by looking at how Daniel and his three friends navigated loving God with their minds in a foreign land.

While these final chapters include brief hints about discerning truth in a cacophony of competing voices in our time, I would have liked to see more application to our contemporary world. What does redemptive epistemology look like for Christian scholars in our universities today? How do Christian scholars redeem “secular” scholarship?  And what help is there for laypeople struggling with foreign ideologies that permeate medicine, economics, politics and race relations?  Smith refers a number of times to the sons of Issachar  who possessed understanding of the times, to know what Israel ought to do” (1 Chron 12:32). Smith has certainly given us the theological grounding for understanding our times. But I would have liked more by way of applying his careful and instructive analysis of the epistemology in the Old Testament to the challenges that we face in our contemporary world.

 Of course, addressing these questions would require many more pages in an already long book. I would recommend that Smith write a sequel to his Such a Mind as This. But he is to be commended for giving us a lucid and inspiring account of the biblical and theological foundations for an epistemology that has huge implications for us as Christians living in a world of competing and polarizing opinions.

A Biblical Account of Epistemology – A review of Dru Johnson

Dru Johnson, Biblical Knowing: A Scriptural Epistemology of Error (Eugene, Oregon, Cascade Books, 2013)

I have for many years felt there was a need to articulate a biblical approach to epistemology. In fact, while on sabbatical at Oxford in 1985-86, I spent some time working on “A Bible Study Guide to Epistemological Questions: Faith and Reason/Certainty and Doubt.” I was unable to find a publisher for this study guide at the time, and looking over it now, I realize that my approach was problematic. But I was right in sensing the need for a study on what the bible says about epistemology and thankfully that need has being addressed in the last few decades.

I happened upon Dru Johnson’s books somewhat by accident, and discovered that it is only until quite recently that serious work on a biblical approach to epistemology has been done by a number of Christian scholars. Biblical Knowing is a good representative of this work and includes a review of the work of other scholars working in this area, including some Ph.D. dissertations (ch. 8). There is a remarkable congruence in these varied treatments of a biblical account of epistemology.

Biblical Knowing grows out of Johnson’s dissertation written in 2011 at St. Andrew’s University. The goal of Biblical Knowing is “to lay the groundwork for a biblical theology of knowledge – how knowledge is broached, described, and how error is rectified in the texts of the Protestant canon” (p. xv). It accomplishes this goal by examining some representative texts in which epistemological concerns are “present, relevant, and persistent” (pp. xvi-xvii). Johnson focuses on the story of creation and fall in Genesis 2-3 (chs 2-3), the Exodus story (ch. 4), and the story of Jesus in Mark, Luke and John (ch. 5). Obviously the wisdom literature would also provide abundant resources for a biblical approach to knowing, but Johnson merely touches on these books of the bible (pp. 136-40), preferring to focus on the narrative texts of the biblical canon.

The sub-title of this book is significant. Johnson maintains that the Scriptures that relate to epistemology focus more on error than they do on knowledge. Why? It is simply easier to identify error than knowledge (p. 16). Johnson provides a careful and fascinating analysis of what went wrong in the Garden of Eden. The problem had to do with authority. Instead of listening to God, Adam listened to his wife, who in turn listened to the serpent (p. 60). Feminists will no doubt bristle at Johnson’s highlighting the fact that JHWH Elohim indicts the man alone with the words, “because you listened to the voice of your wife …” (Gen 3:17; p. 55). But these words are there and this same phrase is used in four narratives in Genesis (p. 55).

 A biblical epistemology depicts error as listening to the wrong person or authority (pp. 57-62). Listening to authority is inescapable for human beings. We are not as autonomous as we think. Thus the important question always is, Whose authority are you trusting? Sadly, we as human beings often listen to the wrong authority and thus fall into error. Why? Because we are finite, sinful people. Johnson therefore follows Kierkegaard in believing that we as human beings do not only commit error, but we exist in error (p.7). As an aside, I think Johnson goes too far in rejecting the push for autonomy as a legitimate way to describe the fall of Adam and Eve (see pp. 52, 62).

So what is Johnson’s constructive thesis about a biblical account of knowing? One theme running throughout the book is that the Scriptures focus more on the process of knowing than the end-product of acquiring knowledge or truth. Indeed, “getting the process of knowing correct somehow ensures that the product of knowledge turns out better” (p. 16). Here are a few of many summary statements Johnson provides to describe the biblical understanding of proper knowing. “In order to know well, you must listen to trusted authorities and do what they say in order to see what they are showing you” (p.16, cf. p. 97). “There is a clear priority given to heeding an authenticated voice, to seeing things afresh through the lenses of an interpreter, and to embodying a process in order to know” (p. 199).

 What we learn here is that we need mentors to help us to know. We need to listen to authority. But how do we discern who is the right authority? This question too is often addressed in the Scriptures. For example, the question of authentication of the prophetic voice is addressed again and again in the Old Testament (e.g. Deut 18; p. 86). The task of these authenticated authorities is to help us to see in a new way, to interpret reality correctly. In fact seeing is often used as a synonym for knowing in the bible. A final ingredient in biblical knowing is active participation under the guidance of Scripture and the Holy Spirit (p. 206).

Johnson’s analysis of a biblical account of knowing is grounded in a careful analysis of some of the key narrative texts of the biblical canon. Here I will only refer to the exodus story to illustrate Johnson’s analysis. The exodus story exemplifies both  a proper and an improper way of knowing. Pharoah got it wrong.  Although he experienced the plagues, he was unable to see them as clues to knowing that YHWY is the God of Israel (p. 69). The Israelites on the other hand did see and know under the guidance of Moses. “Good knowing occurs when the novice listens to her guide and also looks at what the guide is showing her” (p. 2).

Johnson devotes a chapter to showing that scientific knowing follows essentially the same pattern of knowing outlined in the bible (ch. 6). He draws on the seminal work of Michael Polanyi, a physician, then chemist, turned philosopher, who was countering positivist approaches to science (Personal Knowledge, 1958). Scientific discovery relies on “a community of skilled knowers” and is built on trusted testimony of other scholars (pp. 123, 125). Johnson argues that the overlap between scientific knowing and the biblical account of knowing suggests that the biblical account “might be describing much more than religious knowing” (p. 122). I agree that scientific knowing resembles the biblical account of knowing, but this alone does not prove that the bible is giving us a general account of epistemology.

I move on to a few more evaluative comments. I believe that for the most part Johnson has given us a correct account of biblical epistemology. I also believe that he correctly addresses some current problems in the church today in the penultimate chapter (ch. 8). On the one hand, too many Christians today, both conservative and liberal, do not display a proper humility in articulating their theology. There is also far too much emphasis on individual autonomy in contemporary understandings of knowing. What is needed today is more careful listening to authority, including the authority of the biblical canon (p.205). Johnson also does a good job of countering the notion of blind faith (p. 128). “[T]he Scriptures insist over and again that walking by faith means: 1) recognizing the docents through whom God speaks and listening to them alone, 2) embodying the actions they prescribe, and 3) looking at what they are showing us” (p. 3).

The bible clearly touches on epistemological questions as Johnson ably shows. But, the bible is not a textbook in epistemology just as it should not be read as a scientific textbook. It is this insight that leads some philosophers and theologians to object to the very idea of deriving a philosophical account of epistemology from the Scriptures, as Johnson himself notes (p. 45). I concur with Johnson in rejecting this possibility – it rests on too narrow a view of Scripture. But there is a danger of reading too much epistemology into the Scriptures, and while reading Biblical Knowing, I felt that Johnson succumbed to this danger at times.

We must also be careful not to move too quickly from biblical texts to making deductions about epistemology generally. Perhaps the epistemology of the bible is better captured indirectly, by way of the grand themes of the bible, or the Christian worldview that arises from these grand themes of creation, fall and redemption. Johnson gets close to doing this in his initial chapters on the biblical accounts of creation and fall, but even here he is focussed mainly on biblical exegesis. He is weak in exploring further epistemological assumptions that grow out of the creation theme of a Christian worldview. For example, the creation theme surely entails that God is the source of all knowledge and truth. I am sure that Johnson would acknowledge this, but his account doesn’t do justice to the biblical justification of scientific exploration. The fall of Adam and Eve have profound implications on our desire to know, as Johnson shows. And our distorted knowing is desperately in need of redemption. Johnson does not at all deal with the implications of the redemptive theme for epistemology. I believe the task of Christian scholars is to correct the distortions of knowledge that result when God is not acknowledged as sovereign Lord. I believe Reformed epistemology does a good job of capturing the redemptive theme for epistemology that grows out of Scripture, but Johnson is rather  critical of Reformed epistemology (pp. 173-9).

 I also believe Johnson does not pay enough attention to the goal of proper knowing. He is right in suggesting that a biblical epistemology focusses more on the process of knowing than the end product of knowledge. But the Scriptures don’t only talk about process. Paul condemns those who are “always learning but never able to acknowledge the truth” (2 Tim 3:7). While I acknowledge the difficulties in giving a precise definition of knowledge and truth, we must never lose sight of the goal of the process. One of my favorite quotes that I have often used when discussing knowledge and truth is taken from American pragmatist, William James, who describes the notion of Absolute Truth in this way: “The ‘absolutely’ true, meaning what no further experience will ever alter, is that ideal vanishing-point towards which we imagine that all our temporary truths will someday converge” (Essays in Pragmatism, edited by Alburey Castell (New York: Hafner, 1968, p. 170). I think this captures a biblical approach to the goal of knowledge. Unfortunately, Johnson is too dismissive of pragmatic treatments of epistemology (pp.169-70).

Given Johnson’s focus on the process of knowing, it is understandable that he distinguishes between proper and improper ways of knowing. But there are occasions where he does talk about the goal of this process, namely knowledge (p. 33). Here I couldn’t help but take notice of a rather odd expression used occasionally by Johnson – “erroneous knowledge” (pp. 47, 72). Surely there is something wrong here. If someone is said to know something, then surely it must be correct. Here philosophers have got it right – knowledge must be justified true belief. Unfortunately, Johnson is very critical of analytical philosophers who define knowledge in this way (ch.7). I agree that there are some problems with this definition, but it isn’t entirely wrong. The bible often uses the term “knowledge,” as Johnson is forced to admit (p. 200). In fact I counted  some 130 occurrences of the word “knowledge” in the bible, and sometimes knowledge is described in ways that are very close to justified true belief.

Johnson would of course object to my word count of “knowledge.” But I believe he is too quick in dismissing lexical studies and reliance on word frequencies in developing a biblical epistemology (pp. xvii, 15, 192). Surely a study of all the occurrences of the word “know” in Scripture could make a significant contribution to a biblical epistemology. Indeed, Johnson himself appeals to word frequency when he gives “persistence” as one criterion of the biblical texts he wants to study more carefully. And he himself sometimes draws up lists of the use of the word “know,” for example in Ephesians (p. 144).

Despite these criticisms, there is much to be learned from Dru Johnson’s treatment of a biblical approach to epistemology. Readers who would like an abridged version of Johnson’s book, might want to look at his more recent Scripture’s Knowing: A Companion to Biblical Epistemology (Eugene, Oregon, Cascade Books, 2015).