The Terminology of Talking About Humans

In teaching The Parables of Matthew last Fall, I ran into an interesting question while discussing the two parables found in verses 44-46 of Chapter 13:

The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls, and upon finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.

The question comes from the two possible interpretations of these parables.

One interpretation (the standard interpretation) is that the searcher in these verses is Jesus' followers and that the treasure/pearl is Himself. This makes sense, given the suffering that the disciples were beginning to encounter (thereby "selling all that they had).

The second interpretation is that the searcher is Jesus and that the treasure/pearl is His people. This interpretation also makes sense, given that the rest of the parables in Matthew 13 feature Jesus as the active party and His people as the passive recipients.

(Of course, there's no reason they can't both be correct, and one astute member of the class---thanks, John!---noted that, given the wording that follows, "The kingdom of heaven is like," in each parable, one could argue that the first interpretation is true of the first parable, and that the second interpretation is true of the second parable!)

I'll admit, that second interpretation is attractive to me. I like reading about Jesus being the hero in a story, and I like envisioning the lengths to which He went/goes for His people.

But that interpretation does lead to an interesting question: What does it mean, in the second parable, for the pearl to be "of great value?"

Proponents of the first interpretation say that, because of our sin and His self-sufficiency, God has no need of us, and therefore doesn't view us as valuable; Jesus, after all, in John 17, clearly indicates that He is going to the cross because the glory of God & His relationship with the Father is so valuable to Him. One of the key points in the gospel, to them, is the emphasis of the centrality of God in the gospel, and the supremacy of grace and mercy. While these are invaluable points, these folks run the risk of devaluing humans (and sometimes appear quite cantankerous).

Proponents of the second interpretation say that of course humans have value to God because they are created in His image; Jesus, after all, in Matthew 6 assures His disciples not to worry because God considers them valuable. One of the key points in the gospel, to them, is to help other see how valuable they are in the scheme of things, and to inspire them to turn to God to live out their created & redemptive purposes. While these are also invaluable points, these folks run the risk of inflating the value of humans (and sometimes appear no different than the world's self-esteem gurus).

I'm not going to claim to answer this dilemma! However, I think it's important to note that these two camps seem to be attaching a different meaning to the word, "value."

When this debate emerged in my class, I asked the debaters to consider what they meant when they used the term, "value." Did they mean worth? significance? importance? worthiness? worthwhile-ness? loveliness? When we realized we were at a terminology impasse, the debate died down, and everyone seemed to have something new to think about.

I think it's important that we pursue a clear understanding of our terminology when we talk about human beings. We are, after all, finite beings somehow created in the image of God and one of the greatest paradoxes (a la Pascal) in the universe. No wonder it's very easy for our statements about ourselves to be misunderstood!

When have you run into this terminology problem? How can seeking a clear definition of your terms help you understand what truths the Bible claims about humanity? How can seeking a clear definition of your terms help you communicate those truths to others?

About Me

“Abraham believed God, traveled to Egypt, rescued Lot, and was the father of Isaac. Now, was that before or after he became the sixteenth President, fought the Civil War and freed the slaves?” –Me, Age 8

I was often very confused as a child. I knew for certain there were two things I needed to succeed at: school and church. And these were both very similar: We read at both school and church, we learned history at both school and church, we were asked questions at both school and church, we moved from one grade to another at both school and church. They were so similar that I thought that they surely must be related.

That’s where the confusion came in, leading to questions like the one I quoted earlier. School seemed to get more serious (requiring more reading and more homework, playing fewer games and getting fewer breaks) while church (particularly Sunday school) didn’t seem to change all that much (never requiring homework, playing games even when we seemed too old for them, and spending as much time in chit-chat as we did opening the Bible). There was also a growing difference in content. In school, we learned more details year after year, had to memorize the years that events happened, had to learn how everything (science, math, American history, the Renaissance, the French Revolution, technology, etc.) fit together. In church, though, no one ever seemed to say in what year the events in the Bible occurred, nor did we really learn how everything fit together; I had the vague feeling that Jesus came after everybody in the front of the Bible, but not much else.

Little did my middle-school-self know, my questions about how the things I learned at school and church related to each other told the story of conflict and estrangement between the church and the academy.

I remember in ninth grade when one of my classmates in Biology who also attended my church asked our Youth Pastor to pray for us, since we were studying evolution. “We’re not studying evolution,” I responded. “We’re just studying taxonomy. Evolution’s not until the next chapter.” It was as if getting even close to evolutionary theory was like looking into the sun for this student, and I didn’t understand why.

I remember in tenth grade in World History, we spent a chapter studying the Reformation. “Luther,” I read in my textbook, “made the radical claim that salvation was based on faith in God, and not on works.” “But,” I responded, in shock, “that’s what I believe!” I then had two questions that have haunted me ever since: 1. What did people believe before that? 2. Why did no one in church tell me about this history? The first question has been more or less settled in my mind. The second question, I have come to realize, is a form of the tension between Christian faith and academic study that has developed over the years.

Experiences like those in Biology and World History have largely shaped me today, leading me to ask questions about how my faith as a Christian relates to my study and teaching as a professor. I’ve received abundant help from other Christian scholars in venues such as the Christian Study Center of Gainesville and in books such as The Outrageous Idea of Christian Scholarship, Habits of the Mind, and The Decline of the Secular University. It’s my hope that this blog will serve as a sounding board for those questions and provide help to others as they wrestle with similar issues. Thank you for joining me.