I am very grateful to God for my two wonderful daughters, Tahlia and Lauren. One of the things they seem to have inherited from their Dad is a love for writing and publishing. They produce their own girls’ magazine, Girlz4Christ Magazine, for 8 to 15 year-olds and maintain their own website, www.girlz4christ.com. Recently, Tahlia (12) wrote an essay on “Making a Magazine,” and Lauren (14) produced a piece on “Finding a Publisher.” I’ve written several books, and edited a few journals, but I learned a lot from reading these essays. I know you will, too. Enjoy!

Making a Magazine by Tahlia Köstenberger

Making a magazine is a really fun thing to do. However, it’s a lot of work. Anyone can produce a magazine if they know what to do and have the right equipment. If you want to make a magazine, all you need is the use of a computer, friends to help you write articles for it, a simple publishing program such as Microsoft Word, and a place to print it, or you can even print it yourself!

The first thing you need to do is gather ideas and brainstorm about why you want to put together a magazine and how you’re going to do it. It would be easiest to make one for people who are your own age and have the same interests as you. For instance, if you are a ten-year-old boy and like sports, then you could make a sports magazine for boys. You need to decide how many issues you want to make per year and how much it will cost you to do it. Are you going to make it just for fun or do you want to make money from it?

Next you need to gather writers and decide on the topics that you want to write about. You’ll need to decide on how you’re going to organize it. You could have a meeting with your friends who want to help you produce the magazine. It’s good to have at least a few other people helping so you can have lots of different ideas and you can share the workload. Maybe you can assign different jobs such as an editor, photographer, advertiser, etc. You can also have someone who distributes the magazine and keeps track of the money.

One important thing to keep in mind is that you should also have a deadline for people to send in their articles. Set a date and send out reminders a few days before. If you don’t do this, some people will forget and it’ll make it hard to put the magazine together on time if you don’t have everyone’s work.

When everyone has sent in their work, start a document on the computer and type up all the articles. Put all the main articles on a separate page and fill in empty spaces with the smaller articles. When you’ve put all the articles in, add pictures and backgrounds. Use a variety of cool fonts and colors so that the magazine looks colorful and interesting.

Making the cover is one of the most important things to do because it’s the first thing people will see on your magazine. The front cover can be anything you want it to be. You can take pictures of lots of different things or use Clip Art. Be sure to list a few of the contents that are inside your magazine so people will want to read it. On the back cover, it’s a good idea to say what the theme is and a few articles that are coming up in the next issue.

Now it’s time to edit. Check for misspelled words and incorrect grammar. Make sure everything is all lined up and ready to go. Then put the file of the magazine on a disc or flash drive and bring it to the printer. Ask if they can print a sample copy for you. Then you can check and see if there are any more mistakes. If everything turns out the way you want it to, print as many copies as you want and then distribute them!

Making a magazine can be very enjoyable. Another idea is to start a website to advertise your magazine on the internet. People can send in their ideas and buy the magazine online. Have fun!

Finding a Publisher by Lauren Köstenberger

Millions of people write books. Then why are there only about 60,000 books published every year? Because writing the book is the easy part. The hard part is finding a publisher who is willing to publish your book.

After your book is written, it’s a good idea to write a proposal. A proposal is what your agent will send to publishing companies to get them interested in publishing your book.

On the first page, write the title of your book, your full name (or the name under which you want to publish), the word count of your book, the estimated completion date of your book (unless you have already finished it, which is a good idea) and the genre (for example: general fiction, children’s book, historical fiction, mystery, fantasy, adventure, romance, or Western).

After this should come a page on you, the author, and any co-authors. In a couple paragraphs, describe the most important and relevant information about you—your education, work, travels, and most importantly, any previous experience that makes them realize that you are the perfect person to write your book. Include any titles of books, articles, or other publications if you have published before.

Then provide a brief summary of the entire plot of the book. This should probably only be two or three pages long.

Include three chapters, not necessarily the first three or any consecutive three, and follow them with a detailed fifteen- to twenty-page plot synopsis that includes bits of dialogue.

Your proposal should be no more than 100 pages, but probably no less than 50. Also, if you want your synopsis and sample chapters back, or even any reply at all, be sure to mention it in your cover letter and include a SASE (self-addressed stamped envelope) that is big enough to hold your entire proposal, and with enough postage to mail it.

What format should you use for your proposal? The Writers Federation of Nova Scotia says, “Your book proposal should be typed on white paper. Sample chapters should be double-spaced and all other material single spaced, with double spacing between paragraphs. Send a simple covering letter identifying your submission as a proposal for the publishing house’s consideration.”

After you write your proposal, you have to decide whether or not you want an agent. An agent is a person who helps you to sell your book. Basically, he or she will represent your written work to a publisher. For their hard work, an agent receives up to 15% of the money you will receive for the book.

So why would you want an agent? Author Judith Kelman says, “Yes, if you want to sell book length adult fiction or non-fiction. If you’re trying to sell children’s books, short stories, poetry, or articles, the need for an agent is debatable.” For one thing, some well-known publishers will not accept an author’s work without an agent. Also, an agent can help you with complicated publishing contracts and practices, because he or she will know more about this than you will. A good agent will also offer sound suggestions for getting your book in publishable shape. The agent needs to be able to envision where your work belongs in the marketplace and have good contacts at the appropriate publishing houses. Your agent will handle submissions, negotiations, and contract revisions. As the book goes through the publication process, the agent serves as your coordinator to the publishing house and troubleshoots if problems arise. Generally, agents collect your advances and royalties. They deduct their fees and relevant expenses and send you a check for the remainder.

You have decided that you want an agent. What next? You should start by sending an agent a query letter. A query letter is ideally about 1–2 pages long and describes your book to the agent. If you have had previous publishing experience, such as writing for a newspaper or magazine, or even had a book published, mention it. Some people may include either the original or a photocopy of their magazine/newspaper article. Sometimes, you may include a synopsis or outline of your book, as well as five to ten pages of your book. Include a self-addressed stamped envelope, so the agent can reply to you easily. Most agents receive twenty or more query letters every day, so don’t expect a reply right away; probably you will receive an answer within a couple months. If not, then follow up with a quick note or phone call.

If the agent is not interested in your book, you will receive a rejection letter. Generally, this will be a form letter. If the one you receive is not, and/or even includes handwritten comments, this is a good sign, even though it is disappointing that the agent does not accept your work.

If the agent is interested in your book, he or she will request to see a partial of your book. A partial is either three chapters, fifty pages, or somewhere in between. If the agent really likes your book, he or she may request a full, which is basically the full manuscript, minus whatever additions such as a dedication page. If the agent thinks he or she can sell the full, they will accept the author. Sometimes the contracts are merely verbal, but often you may have to sign a written contract to make it more explicit. It’s a good idea to have a lawyer or an attorney read through the contract before you sign it to make sure you understand what exactly you are promising to do.

After you sign the contract, you and your agent will work together to get the book published. The agent will use his or her “pull” as an agent to get your manuscript and/or proposal sent in to a publisher.

If you decide not to use an agent—or possibly can’t get one—then it is possible to try approaching editors at university presses, children’s publishers, and small publishers on your own.

First, look at the category that you earlier put your book in (i.e. fiction, children’s book, etc.). Then find a publisher who publishes your type of book. It’s not a good idea to send a query letter about a children’s book to a publisher for textbooks.

If you want your query letter read, it’s a good idea to address it directly to an editor. To find the name of an editor, you can do several things. You can look on the acknowledgement page of another book by the same publisher; sometimes authors will thank their editors. Also, you can try calling the publishing house and asking which acquisitions editors acquire books in your genre. There are some books (such as Jeff Herman’s Guide to Book Publishers, Editors, and Literary Agents) and magazines (like the annual Writer’s Market).

The query letter that you should send to an editor at a small publisher is essentially the same one you would use to find an agent. The only difference is that this letter is trying to sell an editor on your book, rather than an agent. Do remember to include a SASE or else you will, in all likelihood, never hear back from that editor.

Once you, or you and your agent, have gotten an offer from a publisher to publish your book, and you decide to accept, you will have to sign a contract. The contract will detail everything from foreign rights to free author copies to a delivery date for your manuscript.

After the contract is signed, you’re home free, right? Wrong. If your book is still being written, you need to finish it—and by your deadline. If you need a couple extra weeks or months, you can ask your editor for an extension. When asking for an extension, it’s a good idea to ask for one as early as possible. Calling in at the last minute on your due date and asking for more time is not smart. If it is finished, you will have to work with your editors to make it perfect.

“Editors?” you are probably thinking. Yes, there is more than one. First, your acquisitions editor will take a look at your book as a whole. He or she will review your manuscript for its content, structure, style, voice, pacing, and more, performing what’s known as a content edit. If your book is a fiction book, your acquisitions editor will also be making sure that the main elements are correct, including setting, plot, characterization, dialogue, point(s) of view, narrative, themes, etc.

Then, if the acquisitions editor finds that significant changes must be made to your manuscript before it is approved for publication, he or she will send you on to a developmental editor. Developmental editors work on content. They will help you to redo your manuscript to fit the publisher’s expectations.

When you and your acquisitions editor have fixed the larger issues, the production/project editor, who will help you through the production process, will take over.

Next comes everyone’s favorite … the copy editor. Copy editors will check out your spelling, grammar, punctuation, capitalization, cross-references, and other details to make every aspect of the book perfect.

After the editors come still more people to help your book be published correctly. First comes the art director. The art director is the person who is responsible for how your book looks, inside and out. Unless your book has illustrations or a different format, your book’s interior design should be very simple. The cover, however, is a different story. The cover of a book is its major sales tool. You want a cover that will catch someone’s eye as they are scanning the shelves at a bookstore, and then make them want to buy the book. The cover is usually the most expensive part of the production process; it normally costs thousands of dollars even for the most basic cover. A cover containing either a photograph or an illustration can cost thousands more. The art director will present his or her designs for your books interior and front and back covers to a panel that will include your editor, the marketing director, and the publisher.

Second is the copywriter. The copywriter writes the copy that shows on the front and back cover of your book, as well as the inside flaps on a hardcover book. The cover copy must fit with the cover design to make an attractive cover that will make people want to pick up your book and buy it.

Then comes the proofreader. The proofreader is the last person to read the formatted book pages before they are printed. The proofreader’s job is to catch mistakes like typos, pagination problems, and so on.

The manufacturing manager is the publishing house’s liaison with the printers. He or she is generally in charge of buying the paper to print the books on and deciding which printing company to use.

Before the book is printed, the printer will first print a test copy, known as the page proofs of your book.

After your book is printed, how does it get into the stores? First a copywriter will write a paragraph that describes your book in 100 words or less for the catalog a sales representative will use. Then, a sales rep for your publisher will meet with a book buyer. A book buyer is the person who is responsible for deciding which of all the books recently published the bookstore will carry, and how many of them. The sales rep will give a very short presentation on each book in the catalog, and try to convince the book buyer to buy your book. If he or she is working for a small bookstore, the store may order from 1–20 copies at first. If the book buyer is from a large chain of bookstores, the store will order about the same amount per store, but because there are several stores on the chain, it could add up to a couple thousand.

Congratulations, your book has been published! Enjoy the excitement of going to a bookstore and seeing your name on the spine of one of the books. Now it’s time to start working on the sequel!

Sources:

Writer’s Federation of Nova Scotia. Writing a Book Proposal: Fiction. May 8^th, 2007. http://www.writers.ns.ca/bookfic.html

SoYouWanna.com. So You Wanna Publish a Book.
www.soyouwanna.com/site/syws/publishbook/publishbook.html

“Tom.” How to Get a Book Published: In 10 Not-so-easy Steps.
www.rightreading.com/publishing/howto.publish/howto.publish.htm

Kelman, Judith. Getting Published, About Agents, The Business Side
www.jkelman.com

Bykofsky, Sheree and Jennifer Basye Sander. The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Getting Published: Get your book out of your head and into bookstores. 4^th edition. New York, Alpha Books, 2006.

Subsequent to Dr. Francis Beckwith’s recent “conversion” to Roman Catholicism and his resignation from the ETS presidency and as an ETS member there has been a good amount of discussion as to whether or not Roman Catholics can sign the ETS doctrinal statement while remaining true to the Roman Catholic doctrine of Scripture and divine revelation. To shed light on this matter I decided to get some insight from Dr. Gregg Allison, a former missionary to Italy, professor of Systematic Theology at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and an expert in Roman Catholic theology. Below is my query and Gregg’s response.

Dear Gregg:

I am writing to see if you can clear up an issue for me about which there seems to be some confusion out there in the aftermath of Dr. Francis Beckwith’s departure from the ETS. Some have repeatedly made the argument in recent days that Roman Catholics could sign the ETS statement because, while they may hold to other sources of authority besides the Bible, they, too, only consider “the Bible alone” as “the word of God written.” In my view this may be true with regard to the Magisterium and ex cathedra statements, but not with the Apocrypha. Assuming that “the Bible” spoken of in the ETS doctrinal base is the 66 books of the Protestant canon, would it not be true that the reference to “the Bible alone” would rule out Roman Catholics since they consider other books besides the 66 books (i.e. the Apocrypha) to be the Word of God written? I would greatly appreciate it if you could shed any further light on this.

Cordially,

Andreas Kostenberger

Response from Gregg Allison:

Andreas,

I am including in this e-mail the entire second chapter of the Vatican II document entitled “Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation” (Dei Verbum, November 18, 1965). [NOTE: instead of including the second chapter here, a link to Dei Verbum is provided below.] This is the authoritative Roman Catholic statement on divine revelation, and chapter 2 addresses the issue at hand.

In my opinion, we should not assume that Roman Catholics can readily affirm the expression in our doctrinal basis that “the Bible alone … is the Word of God written,” because such an expression is not how Roman Catholics view this issue. They affirm that the Word of God is Tradition and Scripture.

Note the following (with my emphases): “Sacred tradition and sacred Scripture form one sacred deposit of the Word of God, committed to the Church” (section 10).

Again (from section 10): “But the task of authentically interpreting the Word of God, whether written or handed on, has been entrusted exclusively to the living teaching office of the Church, whose authority is exercised in the name of Jesus Christ. This teaching office is not above the Word of God, but serves it, teaching only what has been handed on. …”

The reason for this intimate union of Tradition and Scripture is spelled out in section 9: “Hence there exists a close connection and communication between sacred tradition and sacred Scripture. For both of them, flowing from the same divine wellspring, in a certain way merge into a unity and tend toward the same end. For sacred Scripture is the Word of God inasmuch as it is consigned to writing under the inspiration of the divine Spirit, while sacred tradition takes the Word of God entrusted by Christ the Lord and the Holy Spirit to the Apostles, and hands it on to their successors in its full purity, so that led by the light of the Spirit of truth, they may in proclaiming it preserve this Word of God faithfully, explain it, and make it more widely known.”

In my opinion, Roman Catholics should find the wording of the ETS doctrinal basis strange at least, for it does not view the Word of God as consisting of both Tradition and Scripture. The statement “the Bible alone … is the Word of God written” is a woefully inadequate statement about what Roman Catholics believe about the Word of God, and I would seriously doubt that informed Roman Catholics would sign it.

On your second point – the canon of Scripture – I think you are right on target. Certainly, the founding theologians and biblical scholars of the Evangelical Theological Society, and those who formulated the doctrinal basis of our Society, were Protestant evangelicals who, when they made the statement about “the Bible,” made reference to the Protestant Bible that contains sixty-six books and does not contain the apocryphal writings.

If authors’ intent means anything, then the ETS statement concerning “the Bible” means that those sixty-six books constitute “the Word of God written.” Roman Catholics cannot agree with this, because for them “the Bible” refers to the seventy-three books (Tobit, Judith, Wisdom of Solomon, Ecclesiasticus, Baruch, 1 and 2 Maccabees are included) with expanded editions of Esther and Daniel.

Thus, that to which the ETS statement concerning “the Bible” refers, and that to which Roman Catholics refer when they use that term, are different matters. This is a second reason that I would seriously doubt that informed Roman Catholics would sign the ETS doctrinal basis.

I hope this helps.

Gregg

For further reading, here is a link to Dei Verbum. See also David Howard’s column in The Wall Street Journal.

May 8, 2007

On May 5, 2007, Dr. Frank Beckwith resigned as President of the Evangelical Theological Society. This resignation has come as a result of his decision to be received into full communion in the Roman Catholic Church, which he did on April 29, 2007. Dr. Beckwith has informed the Executive Committee that this was a decision he came to “after much prayer, counsel, and consideration.” Subsequently, after further prayer and reflection, Dr. Beckwith has voluntarily withdrawn his membership from the Society as well.

The members of the Executive Committee wish Dr. Beckwith well in his ongoing professional work. We have come to appreciate him as a scholar and a friend. On behalf of the Society, we want to express our gratitude for his work organizing and coordinating the 2006 Annual Meeting in Washington, D.C., with the theme, “Evangelicals in the Public Square.” No one, perhaps, appreciates how much labor is involved in such a task, except those who have undertaken it in the past, as is the case with most of the members of the Executive Committee. And so, we thank Dr. Beckwith for his service to the Society.

At the same time, the Executive Committee recognizes Dr. Beckwith’s resignation as President and subsequent withdrawal from membership as appropriate in light of the purpose and doctrinal basis of the Evangelical Theological Society and in light of the requirements of wholehearted confessional agreement with the Roman Catholic Church.

The work of the Evangelical Theological Society as a scholarly forum proceeds on the basis that “the Bible alone and the Bible in its entirety, is the Word of God written and is therefore inerrant in the autographs.” This affirmation, together with the statement on the Trinity, forms the basis for membership in the ETS to which all members annually subscribe in writing. Confessional Catholicism, as defined by the Roman Catholic Church’s declarations from the Council of Trent to Vatican II, sets forth a more expansive view of verbal, infallible revelation.

Specifically, it posits a larger canon of Scripture than that recognized by evangelical Protestants, including in its canon several writings from the Apocrypha. It also extends the quality of infallibility to certain expressions of church dogma issued by the Magisterium (the teaching office of the Roman Catholic Church), as well as certain pronouncements of the pope, which are delivered ex cathedra, such as doctrines about the immaculate conception and assumption of Mary.

We recognize the right of Roman Catholic theologians to do their theological work on the basis of all the authorities they consider to be revelatory and infallible, even as we wholeheartedly affirm the distinctive contribution and convictional necessity of the work of the Evangelical Theological Society on the basis of the “Bible alone and the Bible in its entirety” as “the Word of God written and . . . inerrant.”

In recent years, Evangelicals and Roman Catholics have often labored together in common cause addressing some of the critical social and moral issues of our contemporary culture. We welcome this and fully expect it to continue. A number of publications have appeared comparing Evangelicalism and Roman Catholicism. Certainly, the two traditions share many common Christian doctrines. However there are important theological differences as well. We expect that the events of these days will bring a renewed discussion of these matters. We welcome and encourage this as well.

Finally, regarding the Presidency of ETS, Dr. Hassell Bullock, President-elect will also serve as acting President until the annual meeting at which time elections for the officers for 2008 will take place.

We are grateful for Dr. Beckwith’s past association with ETS, and we pray that God will continue to use his considerable gifts.

C. Hassell Bullock, President-Elect (Wheaton College)

Bruce A. Ware, Vice-President (The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary)

Edwin M. Yamauchi, At-large member (Miami University)

Craig A. Blaising, At-large member (Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary)

Gregory K. Beale, At-large member (Wheaton College)

David M. Howard, Jr., At-large member (Bethel Seminary)

James A. Borland, Secretary-Treasurer (Liberty University)

Andreas J. Köstenberger, JETS Editor (Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary)

The following is a response by Kevin Vanhoozer to my review of his book The Drama of Doctrine: A Canonical-Linguistic Approach to Christian Theology. It is Kevin’s and my joint hope that this interchange may contribute to better understanding in the service of evangelical theology and the fruitful collaboration of biblical studies and systematic theology.

Dear Andreas,

I suppose the most important thing to say at present, in the post-Beckwith era, is that I am hardly on the road to Rome! In fact, one of my chief purposes was to rehabilitate the principle of sola Scriptura in an environment that is far from conducive to it. To the extent that I am successful, I think I also strengthen the strong right exegetical arm of OT and NT biblical scholars like yourself.

A few comments:

1. Lindbeck’s work was an “occasion” for my book, but neither he nor Balthasar were inspirations. I had already begun thinking in theodramatic terms before I found Balthasar, and on material questions we differ quite often. To be honest, the most important motivation of the book was to offer evangelicals a “third way” which was distinct from propositionalism and from the postconservativism of Grenz and Franke. I wondered whether or not I should employ that term, but then I remembered Luther’s comment: “Why should the devil have all the good tunes?”

2. I am critical only of cognitive-propositionalism to the extent that it is reductionistic, that it, when it ignores either the special contribution of the Bible’s literary forms or the needs of the present pastoral context. I’m not entirely reactionary; I actually was seeking to build on the best of Henry tempered by the best of Bernard Ramm.

3. On the role of the dramaturge, two things: (a) the biblical scholar clearly has input here in getting the text right; (b) there is no reason why the pastor cannot also be a dramaturge. In fact, I imply as much in the conclusion. Giving sapiential sermons is the pastor’s prime directive, and it consists in giving sound direction—understanding—to the congregation.

4. My “theory” of language consists merely in acknowledging language as discourse—something someone says to someone in some way about something—and in recognizing that speaking is a form of doing. I actually prefer to speak of communicative acts, in part to distinguish myself from the technicalities of speech act theory (itself a divided philosophical house).

5. Your summary is fair for the most part, with one glaring exception: I do not call for a “hermeneutic of pneumatic reception” but criticize it: “To suggest that the way the church receives the word determines what God is saying and doing in the Bible is to wreak havoc with the economy of divine discourse” (p. 193). If you re-read that section (189–93) I think you’ll see that I’m describing Performance II interpretation only to distance myself from it.

6. It’s interesting that I get criticized both for imposing a Reformed theological grid and for being too ecumenical! Which is it?

7. I’m under no illusion that I have not ironed out all the wrinkles (or exegetical implications) of my position. It was intended as a programmatic vision statement (it actually began as a clarion call at a conference at Regent College where I went head-to-head with Stan Grenz). I am still hopeful that others will come on board and help me to address the “technical” issues.

8. I see what you mean with regard to my comment about “cultural imperialism” and Acts 15. In fact, what I meant to say was that the Jerusalem Council agreed not to impose Jewish requirements on Gentile Christians—in short, they refrained from imposing Jewish “culture” (religious culture) on the Gentiles. But I think the point you mention—that they are acknowledging the work of the Spirit outside the boundaries of the old covenant—is in fact the main point.

9. On biblical theology: my use of Gundry’s unpublished paper should be seen in conjunction with the point and reference I make to his published work on p. 355 n. 156. Of course, he is not the only person to make such points, but he was my first and most important mentor, so I do have a tendency to dialogue with him. Would you say that there is only one Christology in the NT, by the way? It seems to me that the Evangelists do not all identify Jesus as the Christ with the same recipe. I think their descriptions are compatible with one another, but I do not think that they can, or should, be reduced to a single model. This may be the nub of our most important difference (see #15 below), and it is a rich one: who would have thought that the NT scholar would be defending unity and coherence against the systematician who seeks justice for the many?!

10. I have no problem with the more traditional ways of relating the OT and NT, but to consider them would have called for another book. The approach I wanted to suggest in The Drama of Doctrine was that the NT is an improvisation (in the technical sense that I present in the book) on the OT. But I agree with you that more could, and should, be said.

11. I continue to think that the theodramatic model works very well, not least because I’m not sure it’s only a model! The gospel literally has do to with the speech and acts of God and with the way we participate (respond) to them. As far as my collapsing the actor/audience distinction, this is a very common practice if you read about the theory of interactive theater. In collapsing the distinction, then, I’m actually on the cutting edge of drama theory. For the record, I do think the pastor is ideally both actor and dramaturge as well, but I also see pastors and theologians as special actors who also have special vocations (e.g., directing).

12. It is indeed interesting to speculate about the biblical support for the key metaphor of the dramaturge. But the same, I suppose, could be asked with regard to the systematic theologian! Where does one see that (me!) modeled in Scripture: the prophets? the evangelists? Paul?

13. Carl Henry said the right thing at the right time. I acknowledge that. But I also happen to know that he did not think that the literary forms of the Bible were theologically significant, because he told me so to my face! He said that they had nothing whatsoever to contribute as far as the Bible’s truth was concerned. I disagreed then, and I still do … I did make an effort, however, to say that Henry was not the villain (see 267–68)!

14. On why theologians should not go looking for timeless truth: I would rather say that theologians should be on the lookout for time-full truth—for truths that are true at all times. Christianity is incarnational; the truth of Jesus Christ may be embodied at all times, but not at no-time. So I affirm universal truth, but want to nuance “universal” so that it is eminently temporal, not non-temporal. I wonder if a non-temporal truth can even be applied or brought to bear on our time-bound human reality. I think it’s clear that I affirm propositional truth; that’s why I’m attacked by liberals and postliberals and Grenzian postconservatives!

15. Your most weighty concern: I take this seriously, and you have framed it well. The challenge for me is to affirm plurality (which I think is biblical) but not pluralism (which I think is not biblical). In other words, I see real diversity (not contradiction!) in Scripture, but I do not think that this need lead to an anything-goes relativism. I agree with Bakhtin: some truths take more than one voice (read “conceptual scheme”) to be articulated. I would say the same thing about metaphors with regard to the saving significance of Jesus’ cross.

Having said that, I’m not happy with Joel Green’s “kaleidoscopic” view of the atonement, because on his view it sounds as though one perspective is as good as another. The Reformed theologian in me wants to privilege one perspective; the “catholic” evangelical in me wants to acknowledge that more than one perspective is needed to have a full articulation of canonical truth.

My position is not logically fallacious unless one imports the prior assumption that biblical truth is coherent in the (narrow) sense that it can be given what I call “epic” formulation in a single conceptual scheme. My own working assumption is that biblical truth has a dialogical coherence and a dialogical unity. I know this is strange for a systematic theologian to say, but I feel I must say it in order to remain biblical: “Here I stand, I can do no other!”

I disagree that my position is that of Bauer’s and Ehrman’s. I am holding up as authoritative not the plurality in the early church but precisely the theological plurality in the canon itself. We evangelicals need to continue this important discussion, both biblical scholars and theologians. My ultimate goal, after all, is to be biblical. But the question I have been pursuing for years is “What exactly does it mean to be biblical?” I too affirm the ultimate coherence and unity of biblical truth, but I feel constrained to qualify it as a “plural unity.” Elsewhere I have called it a “Pentecostal plurality.” To my mind, only such an acknowledgement can save us from succumbing to interpretative pride, which is the belief that only my way of looking at the Scriptures is the right one. Here I want to raise a question of my own concerning baptism: is it possible that on some doctrinal points the Bible may be underdetermined?

In conclusion, I think we both want to affirm the Bible’s multi-perspectival truth. Ironically, the key difference between us may lie not in our estimate concerning the genre not of Scripture but of systematic theology. But this, I have to confess, is something I am still very much working through…

Thanks again for your fair read and stimulating questions!

Yours in Christ,
Kevin

Clearly, Kevin Vanhoozer’s book The Drama of Doctrine: A Canonical-Linguistic Approach to Christian Theology (Westminster John Knox, 2005) is not for the faint-hearted. It is a hermeneutical tour de force with ample Latin terms pressed into service (scientia, sapientia, habitus, theoria, technē, phronesis, et al., et al., ad nauseam; how about including a Glossary in any future editions?) and Vanhoozerian wordsmithing galore. Vanhoozer’s main sources of inspiration for his volume are two: (1) George Lindbeck and his 1984 The Nature of Doctrine; and (2) Hans Urs von Balthasar and his 5-volume Theo-drama. From the former he borrows part of his title, and develops his canonical-linguistic approach (see p. 294 for a helpful comparison and contrast between Lindbeck’s cultural-linguistic approach and his own); from the latter he takes the reigning metaphor of his volume, that of doctrine as drama (though Balthsadar nowhere offers an account of doctrine in dramatic terms, p. 84).

Vanhoozer bases his proposal on a particular theory of language which is indebted to speech act theory (Wittgenstein, Searle, etc.). He is very critical of a (cognitive-) propositional(ist) theology that reduces biblical revelations to propositions (Hodge, Henry, etc.; pp. 266–72, 276–91). In contrast, Vanhoozer proposes a theology that is postconservative (neither postliberal as Lindbeck nor conservative like Henry) and postfoundationalist (privileging neither propositional truth abstracted from the diverse literary genres of Scripture nor certain types of procedure for generating knowledge that abstract the knower from the process, p. 292)—a theology that is genre-sensitive, or, as Vanhoozer calls it, canonical-linguistic (personally, I do not think it wise for Vanhoozer to use the term “postconservative,” because it is sure to send the wrong signals to some might otherwise be open to considering his proposals). Here is Vanhoozer’s theological cast:

The playwright: God

The drama: The history of redemption (Part One)

The script: The canon of Scripture (Part Two)

The dramaturge: Theologians (Part Three)

The director: The Holy Spirit, and pastors under him

The actors: All believers (Part Four)

According to Vanhoozer, the task of the theologian, as the dramaturge, is both manifold and vital. He seeks to help the players and the audience (collapsed into one in Vanhoozer’s proposal) to make sense of the script; he selects the proper edition or translation of the play (text criticism, translation); he researches the play to keep it historically accurate (historical background research); he thinks about the playwright’s intention (authorial intent); studies the play’s production history (the history of interpretation); and collaborates with the director on a compelling and coherent interpretation, paying attention to both detail and larger themes (p. 244). In all this, the dramaturge “works the drama” and serves as the liaison between playwright and director.

In essence, so Vanhoozer, it is the task of the theologian to supply believers with “direction for fitting participation in the drama of redemption” (as doctrine is defined on p. 102). The ultimate goal is not the study of Scripture, but rather action—participation in the covenantal theo-drama. As Vanhoozer puts it, alluding to the lame man in Jesus’ day, we must “take our script and walk” (p. 115). That script, in turn, is the canon, because the church must ensure that what gets passed on (tradition) are the dominical and apostolic practices embodied and preserved in the canonical Scriptures (pp. 120–22). In this Vanhoozer calls for canonical direction, not canonical control; the canon’s power lies not in the power of the church, but in the power of truth. (See in this regard Vanhoozer’s essay in a volume I edited, Whatever Happened to Truth?) The focus should not merely be on our beliefs, but on our performance. In fact, the focus should not be on our performance, but on God’s preceding performance, or, better still, on Scripture’s record of God’s covenantal performance and the way in which it serves as a script directing our contemporary performance (my emphasis and summary).

In short, Vanhoozer calls for a hermeneutic of pneumatic reception (p. 189). Helpfully, but not originally, Vanhoozer holds up perception as a sapiential virtue. (Schlatter, for example, proposed such a “hermeneutic of perception” almost a century ago.) Citing Martha Nussbaum, Vanhoozer says proper perception with regard to Scripture involves moral insight. We must cultivate perceptiveness and responsiveness, understood as developing an ability to read a situation and to single out what is relevant. Clearly, this is infinitely more adequate that the wooden mechanisms of principlization or that of distilling timeless, transcultural principles by some cut-and-dried mechanism as application is typically treated in a previous generation of hermeneutics textbooks.

To anticipate possible objections, some may say that Vanhoozer in this volume seeks to impose a Covenant-Reformed theological grid onto Scripture and to validate his theological system by fashioning a hermeneutic around it. Another criticism that might be lodged against his project is that, like N. T. Wright, Vanhoozer is a master of the grand synthesis, but not always equally adept in navigating more technical details. With regard to historical theology: Is Vanhoozer’s use of Tertullian on pp. 61–62 apropos when he says Tertullian raised the question of the interpreter’s qualifications? With regard to biblical studies: Is it adequate to say that the early church in Acts 15 sought to “renounce cultural imperialism”? (Or were the early Christians seeking to interpret the significance of relevant scriptural passages and adjudicate recent Spirit-initiated events with regard to Gentile inclusion in the Christian church?) With regard to biblical theology: In the discussion of “theological plenitude” (i.e. diversity in Scripture), is it adequate to use an unpublished paper by Robert Gundry as one’s major (only) source (p. 274), and to say that with regard to Jesus’ question “But who do you say that I am?” (Matt. 16:15), “Matthew, writing for a Jewish audience, gives one answer; Luke gives another, more appropriate for Gentiles,” and then quickly move on to another topic? Do not both Matthew and Luke say that Jesus is the Messiah? Regarding the relationship between the Testaments: In what sense can it be said that the Old and the New Testaments are in “dialogue” with one another (pp. 290–91)? Vanhoozer devotes one paragraph to this, but much is left unsaid, and nothing is said about more conventional ways of construing the OT-NT relationship in terms of typology, prediction-fulfillment, and the like.

Another observation might be that at times the theatrical set of metaphors does not seem to fit very well and may need adjusting. To give but one example, in most plays actors perform, while the audience watches; in Vanhoozer’s proposal the audience is doing the performing and thus combining both functions into one. One wonders in this regard if there is not room, even in light of the priesthood of the believer, for special “actors” such as gifted, appointed office-holders called “pastor-teachers.”

Also, in the doctoral seminar I am teaching in which Vanhoozer’s book is one of the required texts, a fascinating discussion ensued when one student queried where one can find biblical support for Vanhoozer’s dramaturge. Someone proposed Ezra as an early prototype, or wise men who advised OT kings; another set forth Philip the evangelist who helped the Ethiopian understand what he read (cited by Vanhoozer on pp. 116–17); yet another suggested NT scribes such as Matthew the evangelist, who brought out of their exegetical storehouse treasures both old and new (Matt. 13:52); or Paul, whose letters and apostolic ministry transcended local church ministry. (A not-so-serious proposal suggested the apocryphal “Epistle of Kevin” as a possible source for the Vanhoozerian dramaturge.)

Another question that was raised pertains to Vanhoozer’s separation between dramaturge and director: What of the possibility of dramaturge-directors? Could a pastor’s role not be that of dramaturge as well as director? One thinks of contemporary examples such as John Piper or Tom Wright in this regard, men of God who serve both in the academic arena and in local church ministry.

To turn to another possible concern: How fair is Vanhoozer to Henry whom he charges, in effect, with rationalism, reductionism, system-building, prooftexting, if not by name, at least by implication? Was Henry (and others like him) really as oblivious to the different genres of Scripture as Vanhoozer seems to suggest? It seems that, according to Vanhoozer, Henry’s main fault was that he did not start with Vanhoozer’s theory of language (or is this being unfair to Vanhoozer?), and that he operated within the framework of modernism rather than, as Vanhoozer does, that of postmodernism. But is it fair to fault someone for failing to contextualize his theology with regard to postmodernism prior to the advent of this movement? What is more, it may be reductionistic to limit biblical revelation strictly to propositions, but it certainly is not illegitimate to look for propositional content in Scripture (here Vanhoozer would agree, of course, but his charge of reductionism is repeated so incessantly that Henry is made to look like the villain more than he may deserve).

If theology is ultimately about God (which it is), and if God transcends culture and human history (which he does), then why would it be so bad for a theologian to look for timeless truths with regard to that time-and-culture-transcending God? Also, Jesus frequently interprets parables or issues pronouncements using propositional language (e.g., Mark 4:13–20), and Paul likewise presents the gospel in propositional form (e.g., 1 Cor. 15:3–4). Surely Henry does not need me to rehabilitate him, nor do I wish to completely exonerate him from some of the legitimate aspects of Vanhoozer’s critique (which I affirm), but my caution is to resist the temptation to elevate one’s proposal by caricaturing the life work of another.

I have saved my most serious concern for the end. It relates to what one might call the “ecumenical dimension” of Vanhoozer’s proposal. Specifically, Vanhoozer argues that “the plurality on the level of canon may call for an equivalent plurality on the level of interpretative traditions” (p. 275). Even more boldly (no more “may’s” here), Vanhoozer follows up: “The nonreductive evangelical catholic orthodoxy advocated in the present work is itself an attempt to preserve both the diversity and the integrity of a theological dialogue already canonized in Scripture” (pp. 275–76; emphasis original). Thus, Vanhoozer argues, the church would be a poorer place if there were no Mennonites or Lutherans or Greek Orthodox, or if everyone were to interpret Scripture the way he (Vanhoozer) does.

While certainly humble, in my opinion, at least, this view is also dangerous as well as logically fallacious, primarily because Vanhoozer here seems to fail to understand the nature of scriptural diversity. In fact, underlying scriptural diversity (rightly understood) there is theological coherence, unity, and clarity, and the various voices of the biblical authors contribute different, yet complementary and mutually non-contradictory aspects to the overall presentation of Scripture on any given topic. Again, to give but one example, the Bible does not teach both infant and believer’s baptism, or it would be contradictory and errant. Rightly interpreted (though, of course, people may legitimately disagree what in this or other cases constitutes right interpretation), Scripture is not diverse on this and many other issues, but it provides one coherent, univocal, albeit multi-perspectival, message. (On the issue of baptism, see the recent volume edited by Tom Schreiner and Shawn Wright, Believer’s Baptism.)

So when Vanhoozer makes the canonical diversity as he understands and defines it the model for diversity in the church today, he in my view mixes apples and oranges and uses diversity in two different senses. For this reason, arguably, the diversity found in Scripture is not a proper model for a contemporary ecumenism including Mennonites and Greek Orthodox. Using the canon to warrant such confessional and denominational diversification is based on a misunderstanding of the nature of canonical diversity. I am afraid Vanhoozer’s argument here is no different in logic than that of Bart Ehrman, equally questionable, that, as Walter Bauer suggested, doctrinal diversity was the rule of the day in the early church, and so doctrinal diversity (pluralism) should be the preferred model today. (Ehrman’s thesis has been ably critiqued by Craig Blaising in his ETS presidential address, published in the Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society.) Here, it appears, Vanhoozer is close to focusing on the ecclesial interpretive community, as Lindbeck does, rather than on the canon, especially since his effort to ground his focus on the former in the latter is unconvincing.

Other concerns (which to develop is not possible due to space constraints here) may be a developmental understanding of doctrine that seems in some ways closer to Roman Catholic theology than the Protestant understanding of sola Scriptura (though see p. 114; see also the discussions on pp. 123–24 and 141) and at times unduly broad definitions of terms, such as when exegesis is defined as involving the merging of literary forms “into forms of life, so that seeing as translates into experiencing as” and even “into being as” (p. 285; somewhat more narrowly, p. 151).

These possible, and in some cases actual, concerns notwithstanding, I am a declared Vanhoozer fan. Who says Systematic theology must be boring? Vanhoozer is always incisive, cutting-edge, and often provocative. Particularly helpful is his conception of the task of theology as approaching texts on several levels: historical, literary, theological (p. 275); his distinction of aspectival realism from perspectivism (postmodernism; p. 288); and his proposal that the theo-dramatic reality is independent of what we say and think about it (though how does this square with the Bonhoeffer quote on p. 115?). Vanhoozer’s theological and hermeneutical project is sure to engage non-evangelicals and evangelicals alike for years to come, as he continues to wield his prolific pen and challenges Christian theologians to contextualize their approach to biblical interpretation in the postmodern context in which we increasingly find ourselves, and for this I am profoundly grateful.