Caird and Hurst on New Testament Theology

G. B. Caird and L. D. Hurst, New Testament Theology (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994). [Amazon]

George Bradford Caird (1917-1984) published six major monographs and commentaries in his lifetime. The most notable of his publications were his commentary on Revelation (London, 1966) and his book on The Language and Imagery of the Bible (Essex and London, 1980). Caird also embarked on what would have been his magnum opus, his New Testament Theology, yet its publication was never realized during Caird’s life; he passed away with the book less than halfway complete. Lincoln D. Hurst (1946-2008), Caird’s literary executor and former student, took on the task of finishing the volume. In order to carry out his completion of the book in Frankenstein-like fashion, Hurst used Caird’s unpublished papers, published articles, lectures, private conversations between Caird and Hurst, Hurst’s own contributions, and sections from Caird’s books. His role, therefore, was somewhere between coauthor and editor. The book was finally published in 1994, ten years after Caird’s death.

There are countless books in the New Testament theology genre, so what made Caird’s approach stand apart from the rest? Caird identified the nature of New Testament theology as being historical; it is a descriptive endeavor which is void of both dogmatics and apologetics (1). He is optimistic about the historian’s ability to move beyond the subjectivity of their own time and attain some level of historical accuracy, which is “the product of free discussion, honest criticism, and constant revision” (4). Nevertheless, despite his appeal for New Testament theologians to be historians, Caird also argues that this person is also accountable to the church: “the ultimate test of a New Testament theology rests not in intellectual criteria but in the contribution it makes to the life of the Christian community” (22).

Though there is no such thing as a platonic form of New Testament theology, many have undertaken the task of writing such books. Yet the attempts have been flawed, which brings about the need for a new approach—Caird’s approach. But before he describes what his own attempt looks like, Caird discusses four other ways of doing New Testament theology, all of which fall short in one way or another. These include the dogmatic approach, the chronological approach, the kerygmatic approach, and the author-by-author approach.

Caird refers to his own method as the conference table approach. To write a New Testament theology is to sit at a conference table with all of the contributors to the New Testament present. Every voice will be given the opportunity to speak, as long as they have something to contribute to the discussion. The presider is the New Testament theologian. Since the person presiding is from an entirely different culture and era (i.e., sitting at a table with a bunch of dead guys) he or she must traverse “a descent into the world of the dead” (19). Not only does Caird have in mind some metaphorical visit to the underworld, but he draws on the stories of Odysseus and Aeneas with the result of convoluting the various images he uses to present his method. Adding an underworld descent to the conference table image is one thing, but developing it further with the blood sacrifices and gates of truth is another. The way he presents his argument is not necessarily confusing, but it does come off as stylistically confused.

Caird bases his method on the model of the first apostolic conference in Jerusalem. According to Galatians 2.1-10, the apostles agreed to disagree with Paul. They did not declare any sort of common creed or statement of faith. Though difference of opinion persisted, there was not a radical division between Paul and the Jerusalem apostles. Given this information, Caird argues that “the New Testament itself provides a criterion for judging its own unity” (24). When we put all the independent voices of the New Testament in dialogue with one other, we should expect differences, but they all testify of the same Jesus.

When we look back at the four previous approaches to New Testament theology (i.e., dogmatic, chronological, kerygmatic, and author-by-author) we see that they all have something to contribute to Caird’s program. It is dogmatic in the sense that the presider is responsible for setting the agenda at the conference table. It is chronological since his task involves being an historian. It employs a kerygmatic approach because he finds core theological premises present in all or most of the New Testament writers. Lastly it is like the author-by-author approach since he seeks to let eat author speak at the table.

But is his approach really much more than a slightly nuanced thematic approach, or, by introducing us to this conference table approach, does Caird achieve something truly novel in the way he does New Testament theology? The answer lies somewhere in between the two. He does take us systematically topic by topic through many important themes, yet these themes are discussed within the contexts of traditional historical-critical exegesis. Does the presider dictate the progression of the dialogue (top down) or do the texts speak for themselves and guide the discussion along (bottom up). It is not always clear.

The middle chapters (2—8) address various topics of New Testament theology as they relate to “salvation.” The second chapter outlines “The Divine Plan” which is mostly concerned with how the New Testament reads its scriptural authorities. Following that is “The Need for Salvation” (Chapter 3), which discusses sin and evil characters and the corruption of what is good. The fourth chapter, “The Three Tenses of Salvation,” explores the nature of salvation as “an accomplished fact, an experience continuing in the present, and a consummation still to come” (118). Caird more narrowly focuses on the three tenses in the following three chapters. “The Fact of Salvation” (Chapter 5) looks at the facets of salvation already accomplished. “The Experience of Salvation” (Chapter 6) pursues the present aspects of salvation. “The Hope of Salvation” (Chapter 7) deals with eschatology. In Chapter 8, Caird/Hurst describe “The Bringer of Salvation” which centers on the figure of Jesus, his humanity, and the Christological titles.

Chapter 9, “The Theology of Jesus,” is where we find Caird’s second great innovation (the first being the apostolic conference). Whereas Bultmann relegates Jesus to a presupposition, Caird reserves a special seat for him at the conference table. One might find it odd that Jesus speaks at an apostolic conference (that surely didn’t happen in Galatians 2 or Acts 15), but Caird justifies this move by arguing that “the historical Jesus is a deeply theological figure in the same sense as Paul, John, and the others” (x). This relies on the presupposition that we can get at Jesus’ historical teaching and that the authors of the New Testament are in dialogue with it. Yet if Caird compares the theology of Jesus with that of Paul or John, why give him his own chapter? Why not place Jesus’ own theology in direct dialogue with the others (i.e., in chapters 2—8)?

In Chapter 10, “Summary and Conclusions: Jesus and the Apostolic Conference,” Hurst gives helpful summaries of the preceding chapters. Then Hurst leaves the reader with six conclusions about New Testament theology drawn from this book: 1) the ‘gospel’ did not start out as a new religion, began as a political challenge to Israel; 2) Jesus saw Israel at a cross-roads and rather than promoting the traditional ideals of a Jewish nationalist Messiah, he came as the Messiah of self-negating sacrifice; 3) the invitation to enter God’s Kingdom meant to put oneself under God’s sovereignty and by doing so, one fulfills the Law of Moses; 4) in addition to expressing interest in the nation of Israel’s preservation, Jesus also cared for the individuals, that is, those who are children of Abraham; 5) Jesus used ambiguous categories to promote his agenda; 6) the notion that Paul obstructed the Jewish Jesus must be done away with and by looking at Paul as a Jew, we might better understand the Jewishness of Jesus.

Throughout the volume, Caird/Hurst offer a fresh, but sometimes overdone critique of certain scholars and some scholarly methods or fads. In the foreword, Hurst tells us that though Caird admired Rudolf Bultmann, he held him with Adolf Schweitzer and Johannes Weiss responsible “for much that is wrong today with New Testament theology” (viii). He shared no interest in form criticism or redaction criticism. This skepticism is summed up nicely in what is possibly a jab at Conzelmann’s negative reading of Luke:

The question is thus bound to be asked in the name of Redaktionsgeschichte how much we should attribute to Luke, and how much to Jesus. But behind this legitimate question may lie the latent, less legitimate and even sinister assumption that to interpret is to misinterpret. It is a matter of professional prudence on the part of interpreters of literary texts to allow for the possibility that an interpreter may occasionally be right. And it is certainly conceivable that Luke, in interpreting his sources, has shown that he actually understood both the teaching of Jesus and the eschatological language in which it came to him. (416, italics original)

Perhaps more valuable is critical stance of Caird/Hurst against theories of chronological developments in Christology. We must not rely on distinctions such as “late,” “secondary,” and “theological” over against their counterparts “early,” “primitive,” and “historical” when talking about the way the New Testament authors thought of Jesus (281). Developments from a low to a high Christology are not present in the New Testament as one of the highest Christological claims about Jesus’ preexistence appears in one of the earliest writings (cf. Philippians 2.6-7; cf. 343).

We also must ask how well the presider of this dialogue did in engaging everybody who contributed to the New Testament. Certainly some authors were given preference over others. Matthew and Mark remain the shadows of Luke and John. James and Jude had very little to contribute, or perhaps were not called upon as much by the moderator. Yet Caird/Hurst score points for giving the pride of place to Jesus who is so often marginalized in the discussion, even if we might disagree with the avenues that they took to get at Jesus’ teaching.

I think the authors of this volume accomplished the book’s goal insofar as it was conceived by Caird. It was an imaginative effort that could have turned out stylistically tacky, but the authors were able to use the conference table metaphor rather than abuse it.