The theological discipline is split into many areas, and currently, they are not engaging each other as well as they should (there is no universal systematic representation going on which takes the advances in each area into consideration; of course, it’s difficult to do so, since there are so many areas to look into).

Sounds like theology then is in the same position as most modern intellectual endeavors, and certainly the humanities and social sciences. “Disarray” would be too strong a word, since so much good work is being done. But the work is going in very different and perhaps incommensurable directions. At any rate, a comprehensive synthesis becomes increasingly difficult to imagine even within disciplines if only in terms of the challenge of actually mastering the growing volume and diversity of studies that would need to be included. That’d be my description of my neck of the academic woods (science and technology studies) anyway.

Thanks for the specific recommendations — some I have heard of some not. I’ll add them to my things-I’d-like-to-read-when-I-get-the-chance pile. Speaking of which in re: Vatican II — do you know this book by Melissa Wilde, Vatican II: A Sociological Analysis of Religious Change. I don’t know anything about it, but it caught my eye.

But re: the position of sociology and history in the Church, let me push the point a bit further…. Aren’t these approaches still quite marginal outside of academic circles? More bluntly, isn’t the Magisterium is highly suspicious of these approaches — ok for academics to engage in, but dangerous for the faithful as a whole so that a socio-historical framework is pretty much missing from the catechism. (I’d suggest a parallel in the way that science proper is ok with STS at a distance, but keep it out of the laboratory, and by all means out of textbooks or (heaven forbid) policy discussion.)

“The symbol, I said, is constituted from a semantic perspective such that it provides a meaning by means of a meaning. In it a primary, literal, worldly, often physical meaning refers back to a figurative, spiritual, often existential, ontological meaning which is in no way given outside this indirect designation. The symbol invites us to think, calls for an interpretation, precisely because it says more than it says and because it never ceases to speak to us.”

From The Conflict of Interpretations by Paul Ricoeur

One of these days I hope I will get to him.

That’s not an easy question — not because sociological studies are not being used in theological investigations, but that things are far more complex than that. The theological discipline is split into many areas, and currently, they are not engaging each other as well as they should (there is no universal systematic representation going on which takes the advances in each area into consideration; of course, it’s difficult to do so, since there are so many areas to look into).

Thus, one of the areas where sociology is taken quite seriously in theological studies is patristics (sometimes to the expense of other aspects of study). Elizabeth Clark’s The Origenist Controversy is a good example of this done well.

Feminist Theology, as a whole, often looks at the influence on patriarchy on theological doctrine. Sociological studies, therefore, are important for them. There are some good ones, some bad ones, but I would recommend Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza – In Memory of Her: A Feminist Theological Reconstruction of Christian Origins .

Liberation Theology, of course, takes sociology seriously, since it helps show the structures of sin which need to be overcome. Do I need to give examples? I think it is central to all major thinkers of LT, though of course not the only aspect of their writings.

When you explore discussions on Vatican I or Vatican II, you will find sociological aspects are often brought up — which should not be surprising, since both councils were influenced by their times. It’s been awhile, but I think Pottmeyer might have some sociological aspects in his writings.

These are just mere examples, but I hope it helps?

The works of Paul Ricoeur are a good place to go. One of his major texts on the subject of metaphor is The Rule of Metaphor: Multi-disiplinary Studies of the Creation of Meaning in Language.

What about my final question — do you think the Church (or more properly, scholars who consciously work within the teachings of the Church) are comfortable with this socio-historical imperative?

My sense is that it/they are not, and that the desire to preserve a body of transcendent religious teachings makes socio-historical analysis a suspect endeavor for them, or that at least some aspects of Church teaching are walled off from such analyses. But I do not swim much in these waters so I could certainly be wrong. If you disagree, who do you think is doing rigorous sociological or historical work within the Church today?

Actually, what is brought up in sociology and social history is, for me, an aspect of what one takes with them when interpreting. So I don’t think we would disagree. To me it is a given in proper hermeneutics. And this is why, for example, systematic theology MUST be done with a historical perspective and not outside of it. However, the problem is — as with all history — the sociological approach to the past is a reconstruction and must be understood as such.

But if you really want to take context seriously (and you are right that we had better if we really want to understand the world), I think you need to go a good deal further than you’ve done here. Its striking that you’ve set this up in terms of the sometimes problematic relationship between subjective interpretation of readers and the intention of the writer. You are still operating entirely in the realm ideas and ignoring the social experience that shapes them.

If you really want to take context seriously, the science you need is not hermeneutics but sociology and social history. Ideas cannot be reduced to social relations, but they cannot be completely disentangled from them.

And that of course leads to the question — this talk of context is all fine and good when we are talking about fairly esoteric elements of Christian symbology or the U.S. Constitution. But are we prepared to take context seriously when we are talking about important teachings of the Church?

Right – as I was trying to say, there are elements of interpretation which are hidden in the mind of the author. Sometimes, it is just unconscious elements they don’t know exist as necessary parts of their overall whole, but on the other hand, many are conscious elements as well. It’s not even necessarily a matter of deception as much as an attempt to concisely engage a topic and assume a commonality between the author and the reader which might be true when it was written, but will not be true centuries later.

In this way, I think the meaning of a given text is still in the determination of the author; however, this should not suggest that the meaning of the text ends up to be truthful. And you are right, when asked about the text, they could lie. It’s not out of the question. But how you determine an author is a liar or mistaken depends upon how you interpret them, especially when they are dead. And when you do that, you must try to read behind the lines, to see what they don’t reveal, reconstructing the best one can the basis by which the text is written.

However, there is some legitimacy for discounting the intentions of the author, because not all authors are “saints”; they are not all sincere or direct in revealing their prejudices or preconceptions, and they do not always WANT all of their readers to understand absolutely EVERYTHING in their works, and, as advanced a tool as literary “deconstruction” sometimes is, it takes TOTAL knowledge, sometimes, of an author’s culture and social circumstances to figure out what he may or may not have been wishing to occlude from the understanding of a large part of his own public.

Such “total” knowledge as a basis for the generally cultivated reader’s appreciation and understanding of texts is really impractical.

I admit, I’ve not gotten far into a study of metaphor; probably the best study I’ve done is Owen Barfield’s Poetic Diction. But you are right, our metaphors are quite telling about how we view the world, and they in turn, reinforce cultural developments.

One of the more interesting things I find in Buddhist thought is a recognition of how words and language affects our experience of the world, because we think in terms of such words. It is for this reason Buddhism often wants us to find a way to experience the world beyond thoughts, because it becomes beyond words, and therefore an experience of the world without such overlays. It allows us to experience the world as it is without our own mental, and metaphysical, constructions (the reason why metaphysics is often rejected in Buddhism is because it ultimately relies on our limited, human constructons to define the world, a world which transcends such definitions; yet, because we do experience the world in such constructs, there is a level of truth to it as well).

Even the so-called “narrow” texts are being interpreted as we read them. Your example of “age” demonstrates this. Who defines age and how do you define it? The Western interpretation is “from birth.” But not all define age this way. This is an example of a cultural understanding which must be read into the text, and is read in the text, whenever one reads it. And since the document comes from the Western tradition, it is true, we can figure out the answer to be “from the time of birth,” but what must be understood is that this inside information is being used to interpret the text whenever we do read it.

Nonetheless, as time moves on, so does the culture. It is easy to forget how much society has been changed since a document has been written, and it is so easy to anachronistically interpret it. Indeed, all readings of a document from a bygone age requires a reconstruction of the mindset from the time it was written, and that reconstruction will never be perfect. But the more care we take to think within the worldview of a specific writer, the better our interpretation will be. An originalist interpretation of the Constitution can never be read outside of the context of slavery and what was allowed in slavery. Of course, the United States is not limited to that context because of how we have changed the Constitution. But since that has happened, we must always be clear, the original intent of the Constitution is now null and void. Instead, we have a more complicated task: we must discern how changes to the Constitution (and developments in our understanding of the implications of the Constitution itself) merge with the original intent of the Constitution and form a new, third category. That is what I believe is often forgotten, when discussing the Constitution and its application in today’s age.

Saying that, this post really wasn’t about the Constitution. It was about hermeneutics in general, and a desire to let people know that the Pentagram is a Christian symbol. That context should help people interpret the meaning of what I just said.