Guest Post by Stephen Lorance
In a recent paper presentation of Irenaeus’ textual worldview I sought to articulate his Christ centered hermeneutic, which includes, as Patristic scholar John Behr notes, an understanding that Christ “by being explained ‘according to the Scriptures’, becomes the sole subject of Scripture throughout.”[1]
At the conclusion, a student from a mainline seminary asked a piercing question. Specific to his context, this student wanted an apologetic for classmates and faculty that have conflated meaning with the historical-grammatical at the expense of the theological. In essence, living in a historical-grammatical world, how could he argue that a Christ-centered interpretation doesn’t run roughshod over the “literal interpretation?”
With my post-presentation-scrambled-egg-brain I responded simply that, for Irenaeus, the ‘literal’ interpretation wasChrist-centered, and repeated the exhortation popularly attributed to Spurgeon: “Take the text and make a beeline to the cross.”[2]
But once the session was over I was struck with disappointment that I hadn’t really answered his question. A better answer was needed, both for his benefit and for mine, because his question represents the question for all who want to do Christ-centered interpretation.
If Christ is the “sole subject throughout,” then what do we do with the historical-grammatical reality of the Old Testament?
I found a more helpful answer than my ill-fated, half-brained attempt above a short time later in reading the earliest work on typology in the history of the church: a Passover sermon entitled “On Pascha” by Melito of Sardis (circa AD 190).[3]Melito, operating from the same theological tradition as Irenaeus, provides both the ‘what’ and the ‘why’ of the same approach seen in Irenaeus’ own work.
In his sermon Melito presents the Christian celebration of Pascha (Easter) as the true fulfillment of the Passover. In so doing he gives the earliest tractate on typology we have: the way of reading the Bible that sees the events of the Old Testament are regarded as ‘types’ that “precede the reality, the salvation worked by Jesus, which fulfils it.” (42) But it is his defense of typology as both theory and exegetical method that is pertinent to our specific question.
Typology
It seems Melito himself anticipates detractors, so he quickly transitions to the theological argument for his typological reading. And he does so by appeal to a metaphor.
As Melito understands it, we employ typology every day. For example, whenever we describe something, we use an analogy. And whenever we build something, we use a model or a prototype. That sketch or illustration, however, was never meant to be an end in itself; but is, like a type, intended to point forward:
“This is what occurs in the case of a first draft;
it is not a finished work but exists so that, through the
model, that which is to be can be seen.” (60)
That is because the finished product, or the reality being illustrated is superior in every way:
Therefore, a preliminary sketch is made of what is to be,
from wax or from clay or from wood,
so that what will come about,
taller in height,
and greater in strength,
and more attractive in shape,
and wealthier in workmanship,
can be seen through the small and provisional sketch.” (60)
Finally, the prototypes were never meant to endure. For “they are of use only until the finished work has been made.” (43)
Therefore, there is a fundamental shift when the reality appears that inevitably changes the way we understand what came before:
“When the thing comes about of which the sketch was a type,
that which was to be, of which the type bore the likeness,
then the type is destroyed, it has become useless,
it yields up the image to what is truly real.
What was once valuable becomes worthless
When what is of true value appears.” (60)
Applying this to the type of Christ in the Passover, Melito states definitively,
“For then the slaughter of the sheep was of value,
now it is worthless because of the Lord’s life.
The death of the sheep was of value,
Now it is worthless because of the Lord’s salvation.
The blood of the sheep was of value,
Now it is worthless because of the Lord’s Spirit.
The dumb lamb was of value,
Now it is worthless because of the son without spot.” (62)
Granted, the above passage is a little intense with the repetition of “worthless.” We may even hear the a-historical and/or a-grammatical warning bells begin to ring.
But at this point we must remember that Melito is being intentionally polemical. As Alistair C. Stewart remarks in the introduction, “There is a need for Melito’s congregation to distinguish itself from the Jews, practicing a similar rite on the same day.”[4] (38) The context of Melito’s sermon, therefore, is of an intentionally pointed answer in response to particular opposition.
We should understand, because I think we do much the same. Contemporary advocates for Christ-centered interpretation can also push against the grammatical-historical method farther in a specific, polemical conversation than one would go in principle. I fear I did as much in my own response to our friend above.
With the polemic in proper balance, Melito actually stands in contrast with his pagan contemporaries’ use of typology in that he explicitly affirmed the necessity of history in interpretation.[5] Whereas with pagan interpreters of his day “the historical consideration was not of central relevance to their treatments of the text” (44), Melito’s approach can be considered, as Stewart calls it, “historical typology.” (42)
Historical Typology
Historical typology resolutely affirms the historical-grammatical value of the type. Stewart continues with Melito’s illustration, “The metaphor must retain its own literal and historical significance in order to be an effective metaphor pointing to a greater reality.” (44) Without the historical-grammatical reality of the type, then, we lose our connection to the historical Jesus. As John Calvin reminds, Christ comes “clothed in his own gospel.’[6]
I think it also works the other way around. In that Christ’s fulfillment is historical, then the type, likewise, must be rooted in history. Jesus Christ is not the fulfillment of a mythological messiah, but of the historical-grammatical reality of God’s covenant with Israel.
Quite simply: the historical fulfillment in Jesus Christ requires the historical-grammatical reality of the type.
But now that the reality has come, the types do not become less real, historical, or literal, but their true (and intended) interpretive value—their meaning—has been fulfilled in Christ. The types, though true and historical, give up their meaning to Christ, the fulfillment:
“So the type was valuable in advance of the reality
and the illustration was wonderful before its elucidation…
But when the Church arose and the gospel came to be,
The type, depleted, gave up meaning to the truth:
And the law, fulfilled, gave up meaning to the gospel…
The type is depleted,
Conceding the image to what is intrinsically real.
And the analogy is brought to completion through the
elucidation of interpretation.” (62)
At this point you may say that Melito arrives at the same destination as my own pithy response—“making a beeline to the cross.” But he provides a firmer foundation, and, in my friend’s case, a much better apologetic.
Of course Christ-centered interpretation affirms the historical-grammatical reality of the Old Testament! If you’re going to make a real sculpture, you need a real model. If you’re going to build a real structure, you need a real sketch. But now that the finished reality has arrived, even when one goes back to study the small, provisional prototype, the beauty of what is of true value shines through. What is more, a sculpture is often made from and even through the very same elements as the model so that the finished result can, in retrospect, be said to be in the unfinished material.
This reminds me of the quote from Michelangelo, the Renaissance artist. When asked about the difficulty of sculpting his masterpiece, David, he responded, “The sculpture is already complete within the marble block before I start my work. It is already there; I just have to chisel away the superfluous material.”[7] While we would depart from the Renaissance man in that no historical-grammatical reality of the biblical text is “superfluous,” Melito’s historical typology likewise affirms that the reality of Christ can be seen through and even in the type itself.
Therefore, in light of the reality of Christ, the lamb of God, slain so that by his blood death may pass over his people, Melito preaches Exodus 12, querying:
“Tell me angel, what turned you away?
The slaughter of the sheep or the life of the Lord?
The death of the sheep or the type of the Lord?
The blood of the sheep or the Spirit of the Lord?
It is clear you turned away
Seeing the mystery of the Lord in the sheep
And the life of the Lord in the slaughter of the sheep
And the type of the Lord in the death of the sheep.
Therefore, you struck not Israel down,
But made Egypt alone childless.” (59)
Melito affirms the historical-grammatical reality of the text, even preaches it! But he does so in light of the reality that is come—Christ. Therefore, Melito of Sardis’ “historical typology” rejects our modern dichotomy, and allows us to have a Christ-centered, historical-grammatical hermeneutic.
In Part Two we’ll revisit Irenaeus himself and see how his understanding of “recapitulation,” likewise provides us a firm foundation for a Christ-centered, historical-grammatical hermeneutic.
Stephen is the pastor at Green Hills Community Church in Nashville, TN and a PhD student in theology at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. He and his wife, Rachel, have two kids.
[1] John Behr, The Way to Nicaea: Formation of Christian Theology. Volume 1 (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2001), 132.
[2] It has been said that this quote is falsely attributed to Spurgeon. However, in his 1859 sermon “Christ Precious to Believers,” Spurgeon does say by quoting another pastor, “I have never yet found a text that had not got a road to Christ in it, and if I ever do find one that has not a road to Christ in it, I will make one; I will go over hedge and ditch but I would get at my Master, for the sermon cannot do any good unless there is a savour of Christ in it.”
[3] All citations in this post will be from Melito of Sardis, On Pascha: With the fragments of Melito and other material related to the Quartodecimans. In the Popular Patristics Series. Translated by Alistair C. Stewart (Yonkers, NY: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 2017).
[4] Melito was part of the group in the church that celebrated the Quartodeciman Pascha. That entails two points: 1) Their understanding of the Pascha comprised what we know both as Good Friday and Easter 2) Their celebration of the Pascha occurred on the same day as the traditional Jewish Passover.
[5] Stewart argues that Melito’s work must be read in the context of his contemporary debate “about the value and function of allegorical interpretation in the rhetorical schools.” (43) Stewart characterizes the approach of Melito’s contemporaries: “On the whole the literal meaning is to be altogether rejected.” (44) He cites, as examples, Heraclitus, to an extent Plutarch, and the meaning of Cornutus and Maximus of Tyre.
[6] Calvin, Institutes, 3.2.6
[7] This quotation as well may be apocryphal, but I’ll leave that debate to the historians.