Review of my book (part 3) by Nijay Gupta

Here's the final part of Nijay Gupta's review of The Parables after Jesus.

I am grateful for his careful reading and thoughtful critique.

He raises a valid point at the end, one which readers of this blog may remember (since I catalogued the decisions I made and why while writing the book) that I debated and struggled with many times.

For the reasons that I will recount in full here (e.g., of the ~40,000 words of painful cuts I had to make, such as deleting all of what I wrote about Bede and Chaucer), I decided to do most of the "synthesis" work in the various sections themselves (e.g., the allegorical interpretations in contrast the less allegorical in the early Church) and also to limit myself to one lengthy example of such a "synthesis" in one parable (the Prodigal Son in the Introduction) as an example of what others could do to build upon my work in this book. 

My own inclination is to celebrate heteroglossia and to react against what often is an over-simplification of eras or trends in eras (e.g., such as in the proposed stages of the quest of the historical Jesus), so that also probably played a role in my decisions. 

Let me hasten to add that Nijay clearly is not asking for that; I'm just saying that such concerns (and biases) were part of my rationale for not doing more of the synthesis for which he (rightly) seeks. 

Chapter 5

The last main chapter focuses on both the 20th and 21st centuries (pp. 207-153). Here Gowler covers 9 people/groups including Thomas Hart Benton, the Blues, Flannery O’Connor, Martin Luther King Jr., Godspell, Latin American interest in the parables, David Flusser, Octavia Butler, and Thich Nhat Hanh. I will mention a few interpreters that were especially interesting to me. I love Flannery O’Connor. Her novel, The Violent Bear It Away, is considered to be inspired by the Parable of the Sower, a harrowing but vivid modern tale. As for Martin Luther King, he preached with passion about the Parable of the Rich man and his storehouses. Also, unsurprisingly, King was inspired by the Parable of the Good Samaritan. My favorite musical of all time is Godspell and as a young Christian I learned many of the teachings of Jesus through it. Gowler is no doubt right when he says that Godspellmore than any other Jesus film/play/musical “incorporates parables so deeply into its narrative of Jesus’ life and teachings” (232).

Conclusion

Gowler’s conclusion is concise, less than three pages. He simply affirms that we see such creativity and  rainbow of readings of the parables no doubt because they are puzzles and riddles worth pondering extensively. Gowler likens them to art works, inviting the reader into active imagination.

Gupta’s Final Thoughts

Gowler’s The Parables after Jesus is such a fun book to read – the case studies are well-chosen and refreshingly diverse. Gowler balances ancient and modern, East along with West, men and women, academic and art/popular culture. The visuals in the book are helpful and show the impact of the parables even in earliest Christian art. If I have one lingering desire after completing the book, though, it is for more synthesis and guidance from Gowler. I would have enjoyed some commentary on trends and distinctives of certain periods or communities, perhaps briefly at the end of each chapter. In the conclusion, Gowler could have adumbrated how readings have flowed through various watershed moments. These ideas notwithstanding, I warmly recommend this book to all students of the Gospels and the parables of Jesus.

Review of my book (part 2) by Nijay Gupta

One of the reasons I was so delighted to see Nijay K. Gupta's two-part (soon to be three-part) review of The Parables After Jesus is that he reads carefully, and he thoughtfully works through all the books he reviews.

I should have mentioned the name of the blog he co-writes with Christopher W. Skinner, Crux Sola. 

The first part was posted on April 27 (see my previous post about it). 

The second part was posted on May 12, 2017, and it can be found here.

I will copy and paste the second part of the review below, but I encourage you to go read the other reviews Nijay does on Crux Sola, not just this one.

As Nijay notes, Reception history of the Bible is important both because you learn about fascinating interpreters and interpretations and because you gain additional perspectives on the Bible itself. 

Part 2 of the review:

Gowler -Parables After Jesus Part 2 (Gupta)

MAY 12, 2017NIJAY GUPTA1 COMMENT

We are continuing a short series on David Gowler’s The Parables After Jesus (Baker; PART 1)

Here we will look briefly at chapters 3 and 4, respectively on the interpretation and use of the parables in the 16th-17th centuries, and on the 18th-19th centuries.

Chapter 3: “The Afterlives of Jesus’ Parables in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries”

Here Gowler examines ten case studies, we will just mention a few of these. The first is Martin Luther. Luther rejected allegorical interpretation, calling it “stupid.” He promoted a more simple approach which drew out the plain meaning, though Luther himself did not discount the possibility of symbolic meaning. As can be expected, Luther focused his interpretation of the parables on Christ. When it comes to the parables, they often focus on moral behavior and good works. How does Luther handle this? According to Gowler, as far as Luther was concerned, “The ‘works’ are outward signs of one’s inner faith…Works do not make anyone good; instead, works bear witness to the genuineness of one’s faith” (120).

I was also fascinated by Gowler’s discussion of Shakespeare’s interest in the Synoptic parables. Apparently, Shakespeare was especially infatuated with the plot and themes of the Parable of the Prodigal Son – sibling rivalries, rebellious children, mercy, restoration, etc. Gowler notes how Shakespeare alludes or tips his hat to the prodigal son in numerous works such as Comedy of Errors, Love’s Labour Lost, King Lear, Timon of Athens, Twelfth Night, The Winter’s Tale, and Two Gentlemen of Verona.

Perhaps my favorite case study in this chapter is Rembrandt. While Rembrandt famously portrayed many biblical texts in his artwork, he did few on parables, though when he did, they all came from Luke (152). Rembrandt’s painting of the Return of the Prodigal Son is especially famous, though he did more than one version of the scene (see image). It is especially satisfying that Gowler included artwork images throughout the book.

Chapter 4: “The Afterlives of Jesus’ Parables in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries”

There are nine case studies here, including Fanny Crosby and Charles Spurgeon, but I will briefly mention tidbits about Leo Tolstoy and Emily Dickenson.

Tolstoy was not shy about criticizing the structured and dogmatic Christianity of his day. He longed for the simple way of Jesus that focused on love of God and love of neighbor. He wrote a story called “Where Love Is, God Is” and drew from his own reading of the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats. Dickenson also took interest in this Parable, which inspired a poem based on Matthew 25:35 called “I bring an unaccustomed wine.” Dickenson’s interest in and use of the parables is not just thematic, but perhaps also hermeneutical, as her reflection on poetic communication seems to align with the riddling nature of parables.

Tell all the truth but tell it slant–

Success in Circuit lies

Too bright for our infirm Delight

The Truth’s superb surprise

As Lightning to the Children eased

With explanation kind

The Truth must dazzle gradually

Or every man be blind

(see Gowler, p. 197)

Again, very insightful chapters, lots of fun learning, and prods the reader to follow up on many of these interpreters of the parables.

Review of my book by Nijay Gupta

I was delighted to see that Nijay K. Gupta did a two-part review of The Parables After Jesus on the blog he co-writes with Christopher W. Skinner. The first part was posted on April 27.

Here is part one of the review:

Gowler – Parables After Jesus Part 1 (Gupta)

APRIL 27, 2017NIJAY GUPTA3 COMMENTS

I love studying and teaching about Jesus’ parables in the Gospels – that is one of my favorite class sessions in the NT intro course I teach. I am also fascinated by the history of interpretation of the parables. So, I was overjoyed to see David B. Gowler’s new book The Parables after Jesus: Their Imaginative Receptions across Two Millennia (Baker, 2017). Because this book covers more than fifty case studies in reception – most of them deeply engaging and insightful – I will talk about the book over several posts. Here we will briefly cover the introduction and first main chapter.

Introduction

Why a book on the “afterlives” of the parables of Jesus? Gowler seems to be intrigued by the impact of these tales and riddles on Christians and other readers of the gospels throughout the centuries. But he also mentions how attentiveness to reception helps us to be aware of our own blindspots and the disadvantages of having just one human tradition or perspective. The more engagement from people outside of our era and locations/culture, the more our

David B. Gowler

vision is expanded to what may be going on in the parable. In his own words, Gowler says that “One of the goals of this book is to help readers better understand the importance of context for interpreters’ responses to Jesus’ parables” (9).

He uses the Prodigal Son parable as a test-case, noting that some (from their own vantage point) argue that the point is ethical, others focus on ethnicity (elder brother = Israel, younger = Gentiles), and others still believe it talks about different kinds of Christians. Gowler is not directly interested in settling on the “right” interpretation. He sees the attentiveness to these many interpretations instructive regarding the act of learning itself.

Chapter 1: The Afterlives of Jesus’ Parables in Antiquity (to c. 550 CE)

In this era, Gowler is selective, but covers figures like Irenaeus, Clement, Tertullian, Origen, Chrysostom, Augustine, and the under-appreciated Macrina the Younger. Gowler also looks at Christian a

Domitilla Catacombs

rtwork from this period which depicts parable images (though admitted there is not very much). It is difficult to give any sweeping summary to patterns of reception and use in this period, but Gowler does note that allegorization and blending of biblical passages and images was popular.

So far, I appreciate Gowler’s concise summaries of each figure or artist’s interpretation, and he includes artwork as able and relevant. Next up – the middle ages…

Rossano Gospels, Wise and Foolish Handmaids

The Rich Man and Lazarus (part 25): Geoffrey Chaucer (part 2)

The Hoccleve Portrait of Chaucer

I wrote a section on John Gower in the book and deleted the one on Chaucer because I found Gower's uses of the parables of Jesus more intriguing and important (although Gower's works quickly moved into the shadows of Chaucer's, which is another reason to write about Gower: to shed some light on texts that are often overlooked in contrast to Chaucer's).

Chaucer, though, uses the parables in interesting ways as well, including the rich man and Lazarus parable. The Canterbury Tales uses the parables in both positive and negative ways. The Summoner’s Tale, for example, includes the Rich Man and Lazarus parable in a morally dubious way. This story is told in response to the previous story, The Friar’s Tale, in which a friar relates a story against a summoner, a minor church official whose duties included notifying people who had to appear before a church (not civil) court. In The Friar’s Tale, the summoner is corrupt. He colludes with a bailiff—who is actually the devil in disguise—to extort money from people. At the end of the story, the devil takes the summoner to hell, after the summoner tries to extort a bribe from a poor widow.

The Summoner’s Tale retaliates to the friar’s narration of The Summoner’s Tale by relating, in a similar way, the story of a hypocritical friar’s attempt to extort money from a bedridden peasant. The prologue to the tale give’s use the narrator’s opinion of such friars, including a humorous and ribald statement of where such friars make their home. When an angel commands Satan to hold up his tail:

“Hold up thy tail, thou Sathanas!” said he, 

“Show forth thine arse and let the friar see 

Where is the nest of friars in this place!” 

And ere one might go half a furlong's space, 

Just as the bees come swarming from a hive, 

Out of the Devil's arse-hole there did drive 

Full twenty thousand friars in a rout, 

And through all Hell they swarmed and ran about. 

And came again, as fast as they could run, 

And in his arse they crept back, every one.

In the tale itself, the friar, named John, misuses not only his office and position for his own gain (the sin of simony) but also the Bible; he does not practice what he preaches, because he is more concerned about money than with saving souls. He preaches against those who waste and devour wealth while he goes from house to house begging for food and other goods—while he has elegant possessions—and pretends that he will pray for those who contribute. He comes to the house of a rich man named Thomas who was sick and bedridden. Thomas remonstrates that he had not seen the friar for over two weeks, and the friar responds that he has been working tirelessly praying for Thomas’s salvation. Thomas’s wife complains privately to Friar John about Thomas’s ill-humor and constant complaining (“He is as crabbed as an old pismire, Though he has everything he can desire”). Friar John says that he will speak to Thomas abut his anger, but he wheedles some additional food from her.” She then says that her child had died within the last two weeks, and the friar lies and says that in a vision he had seen the child being carried up into heaven. It is then that the friar hypocritically cites the Rich Man and Lazarus to stress his own life of poverty, abstinence (cf. how he had embraced her “within his two arms narrow, And kissed her sweetly, chirping like a sparrow With his two lips”), and fasting that allows his prayers to be accepted by Christ:

And may now, God be thanked for mercy shown, 

Observe their jubilee and walk alone. 

And I rose up and did my brothers seek, 

With many a tear down trickling on my cheek, 

And without noise or clashing of the bells; 

Te deum was our song and nothing else, 

Save that to Christ I said an orison, 

And thanked Him for the vision he had shown 

For, sir and dame, trust me full well in all, 

Our orisons are more effectual, 

And more we see of Christ's own secret things 

Than folk of the laity, though they were kings. 

We live in poverty and abstinence 

And laymen live in riches and expense 

Of meat and drink, and in their gross delight. 

This world's desires we hold in great despite. 

Dives and Lazarus lived differently, 

And different recompense they had thereby. 

Whoso would pray, he must fast and be clean, 

Fatten his soul and keep his body lean. 

We fare as says the apostle; clothes and food 

Suffice us, though they be not over-good. 

The cleanness and the fasting of us friars 

Result in Christ's accepting all our prayers. 

The friar compounds his lies by further comparing himself with Lazarus and contrasting himself with the rich man:

Therefore we mendicants, we simple friars, 

Are sworn to poverty and continence, 

To charity, meekness, and abstinence, 

To persecution for our righteousness, 

To weeping, pity, and to cleanliness. 

And therefore may you see that all our prayers- 

I speak of us, we mendicants, we friars- 

Are to the High God far more acceptable 

Than yours, with all the feasts you make at table.

The friar then assures Thomas that he and the other friars are praying for him day and night and that Thomas’s monetary support will make a difference, but Thomas replies that he had already contributed much of his wealth to the friars to no avail. Friar John responds that has not given too much but too little and demands that Thomas should give more to support the twelve friars. The friar gives an extensive rebuke, and Thomas becomes angry:

This sick man, he went well-nigh mad for ire; 

He would have had that friar set afire 

For the hypocrisy that he had shown. 

"Such things as I possess and are my own," 

Said he, "those may I give you and no other.

Thomas then declares that he will give the friar a gift into his hand on the condition that he divide it equally among the twelve friars. Friar John readily agrees, and the sick man then says:

"Lo, hear my oath! In me shall truth not lack." 

"Now then, come put your hand right down my back," 

Replied this man, "and grope you well behind; 

For underneath my buttocks shall you find 

A thing that I have hid in privity." 

"Ah," thought the friar, "this shall go with me!" 

And down he thrust his hand right to the cleft, 

In hope that he should find there some good gift. 

And when the sick man felt the friar here 

Groping about his hole and all his rear, 

Into his hand he let the friar a fart. 

There is no stallion drawing loaded cart 

That might have let a fart of such a sound.

This tale illustrates Chaucer’s interesting dialectic between the sacred and the profane (e.g., note the word pun that is included in Chaucer’s Middle English vernacular as well: Friar John moves from deliberating how to split a “farthing” among twelve friars; now he has to figure out how to split a “farting” twelve ways). 

In addition, it gives valuable insights into aspects of his biblical interpretation as well. Some of Chaucer’s characters unknowingly misinterpret biblical passages (e.g., January, in The Merchant’s Tale), but others intentionally misapply biblical passages, both clerics (e.g., Friar John) and laity (e.g., the wife of Bath). In fact, Friar John famously informs Thomas that he prefers the “gloss” to the Bible itself:

I have today been to your church, at Mass, 

And preached a sermon after my poor wit, 

Not wholly from the text of holy writ, 

For that is hard and baffling in the main; 

And therefore all its meaning I'll explain. 

Glosing's a glorious thing, and that's certain, 

For letters kill, as scholars say with pain.

In reality, for the hypocritical friar, to gloss on such passages as the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus makes it easier for him to manipulate the text in order to satisfy his pursuit of earthly gain while pretending to speak of spiritual values. 

News article about the book

Cathy Wooten wrote a very nice piece about the parables book on the Oxford College of Emory University website: 

Gowler book on parables is published

March 29, 2017

David Gowler's new book explores the myriad interpretations of the parables of Jesus and how they continue in relevance today.

David Gowler, the Dr. Lovick Pierce and Bishop George F. Pierce Chair of Religion and director of the Pierce Program of Religion at Oxford College, is the author of a new book published by Baker Academic. The Parables after Jesus: Their Imaginative Receptions across Two Millenia explores the myriad interpretations of the parables of Jesus and how they continue in relevance today.

In his preface, Gowler describes parables as “stories…that create vivid pictures in one’s mind, stories that enable us to experience profound truths in often deceptively simple ways, stories that challenge us to respond and act—not only to do better, but also to be better.” The book considers some 33 parables of Jesus, moving chronologically in five sections from antiquity through the present day and focusing on multiple and varied interpretations. These include not only expected forms—biblical exposition, sermons, classical music, and literature—but also the unexpected—science fiction, politics, and the blues. The wide range of sources includes Augustine, Hildegard of Bingen, Martin Luther, William Blake, and Martin Luther King, Jr., but also playwrights Antonia Pulci and William Shakespeare, artists Domenico Fetti and Thomas Hart Benton, poets Emily Dickinson and George Herbert, novelists Octavia Butler and Flannery O’Connor, blues musician Robert Wilkins, hymnist Fanny Crosby, the Islamic text Sahih al-Bukhari, and the writings of Thich Nhat Hanh.

These reflect Gowler’s renown as a scholar in the field of reception history—the study of how various biblical texts have been received, interpreted, and used over the time since their writing. Also informing the book is Gowler’s scholarship in art and its use in the interpretation of biblical texts, an interest he employs in his writing as well as in the classroom. His Oxford classes include the popular course “Portraits of Jesus,” an exploration of the New Testament gospels as literature and the ways in which they have been reinterpreted through the visual arts.

The book has been enthusiastically received by reviewers in the United States, Canada, and the UK. Matthew Skinner of Luther Seminary calls the book “a knowledgeable guide through a lively history,” and Christine Joynes, director of the Centre for Reception History of the Bible at the University of Oxford says it is “a wonderfully engaging volume [that] offers a rich array of insights…David Gowler's immense learning is expressed with superb clarity, making interpretations of the parables across two millennia accessible to all.”

Gowler began reflecting on the research for this latest book and commenting along the way of its writing in his blog A Chorus of Voices: The Reception History of the Parables. 

The Parables after Jesus adds to a long bibliography of Gowler’s works. His most recent prior publication is the widely praised 2014 book, James through the Centuries, a volume in the Blackwell Bible Commentaries, a series focusing on reception history. Gowler’s other books include Host, Guest, Enemy, and Friend: Portraits of the Pharisees in Luke and Acts (1991), What Are They Saying About the Parables? (2000), and What Are They Saying About the Historical Jesus? (2007). He is the editor of and contributing writer to Radical Christian Voices and Practice (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012) and the author of numerous articles, book chapters, and book reviews. He has edited 22 books and since 1991 has served as co-editor of the series Emory Studies in Early Christianity.

The Rich Man and Lazarus (part 24): Geoffrey Chaucer (part 1)

Geoffrey Chaucer

As noted previously, many other important interpretations of the rich man and Lazarus parable could be found in English literature during this period, such as Handlyng Synne (214.6635-6720), The Pricke of Conscience (84.3062-66) or William Langland’s Piers Plowman (B.16.252-71). Piers Plowman also discusses the parables of the Wise and Foolish Virgins (B.1.183-87), the Unjust Steward (B.6.229-30), and the Talents (B.6.240-48; Wailes 1986: 41-42). The most famous work during this time period, however, is Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, one of the greatest masterpieces in English literature. Chaucer was the most important English poet before Shakespeare, but his career also included roles as a diplomat and civil servant under three British kings.

Chaucer was born into a prominent family in London—his father and grandfather were successful wine merchants—which was also involved in government service. The first definite record of his life comes from 1357, where he is listed as a page (under the name of “Galfrido Chaucer”) in the household expense accounts of Elizabeth, the Countess of Ulster and wife of Lionel, one of the sons of King Edward III. Chaucer then served as a yeoman (a “valettus”) to Lionel in a military expedition to France, where Chaucer was captured during an unsuccessful siege of Reims (the king ransomed him for £16). This expedition was the first of many journeys that Chaucer would undertake to Europe on diplomatic missions (beginning with a trip to Spain in 1366 and continuing with at least two missions to Italy and several trips to France) and he was granted a lifetime annuity in 1367 by Edward III as a squire of the king’s household (a title that designates a person on a commercial mission), an annuity of £10 (and a pitcher of wine a day for life) by John the Gaunt in 1374 (which he surrendered in 1388 but were reinstated by King Richard II in 1394 and in 1397), and various other payments for his services on the kings’ missions.. Chaucer also served in many other roles: He was a customs controller in the Port of London who collected export duties on hides, skins, and wool (1374-1386), was a Justice of the Peace for Kent (1385-1389), attended Parliament as a “knight of the shire” of Kent, and was appointed by the king as “clerk of the works” (1389-1391), duties which including oversight of all aspects of building and repair projects (Brown 2011: xii-3). Upon his death, Chaucer was only the second non-royal to be buried within Westminster Abbey, in a section that would soon be named the “Poet’s Corner.”

The Canterbury Tales is the best known and most popular of Chaucer’s writings. At first glance, it appears to be merely a collection of fictional short stories of various pilgrims who make their way along the fifty-four miles from Southwark Cathedral in London to Canterbury to worship at the shrine of Saint Thomas. These brilliant tales, however, integrate the sacred and the profane, spiritual insights and earthy humor, truth and deception, and numerous literary genres in poetic form, and they display a philosophical and psychological depth that creates an unforgettable band of travelers (see Lerer 2006: 243-4). These characters interact in a familiar setting. Chaucer’s many diplomatic trips, for example, evidently followed the same journey on which he would send his pilgrims in in these tales. 

The language and content of the Bible permeated most literature of the Middle Ages, and Chaucer’s works are no exception:

To begin by trying to assess the place of the Bible in medieval culture is like trying to apprehend the oxygen in the air we breathe. In the liturgy, in proverbs and idioms of common speech, in the language of the law and of political thought, through dramatic performances in churchyards and in village squares, in the art of the cathedrals and of parish churches, for high born and low born alike, the Bible was everywhere; it was a constant component of the mental life of medieval men and women (Besserman 1988: 4).

There are hundreds of allusions and citations of the Bible in Chaucer’s works, but these works demonstrate a significant amount of flexibility in citing and using the Bible that might seem surprising (see Whitehead 2009: 134-51).

Chaucer most likely began work on The Canterbury Tales around 1387, and the work remained unfinished at his death thirteen years later. Only 24, some incomplete (e.g., the tales of the Cook and the Squire), of an estimated 120 tales that Chaucer planned to write are found collectively in a number of manuscripts (Hirsh 2003:43; Chaucer 2008: xx). The general prologue introduces us to a number of pilgrims, such as the Parson, a godly and poor country cleric who is rich in “holy thought and work.” A learned man, he diligently seeks to preach “Christ’s own gospel,” is patient in bad times, and, instead of haranguing his parishioners to tithe is more likely to give his own income and goods to his parishioners who are in need. The parson lives a life worthy to be emulated by his flock; he is holy and virtuous but shows pity to sinners and leads others to heaven by his example. This idealized portrait represents, for Chaucer, “the perfection of religion” (Hirsh 2003: 49), someone who practices what he preaches. On the other hand, the friar in The Summoner’s Tale is similar in some respects to Friar Hubert who narrates The Friar’s Tale. Hubert is described as a wanton and festive man, who gave penance easily when he knew that he could gain financially from it, “was the finest beggar of his house,” and “always got a farthing ere he went.” 

The next post will discuss Chaucer's use of the rich man and Lazarus parable.