MetaCatholic

In yesterday’s post on the resurrection (dealing with the fourth of the 39 articles) I referred to Paul saying:

What I am saying, brothers and sisters, is this: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed (1 Cor 15:50-51 NRSV)

In the comments on that post Peter Kirk dissents from my view that one cannot ascribe flesh to Jesus’ risen body (and indeed wishes to ascribe blood to it too!) and refers me to St Luke’s gospel:

Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.” They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. He said to them, “Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.” (Luke 24:36-39  NRSV)

I think this interesting scriptural collision (I nearly called this post “When Scriptures collide”) deserves more than a debate in the comments on that post, and it raises, for me, some more general interpretative issues. I should note, whether others agree or not, that Peter and I both agree on the empty tomb, and that there was a real transformation of Jesus’ body in the resurrection. I am not going to re-argue those important points here.

First, I want to note that there are (at least) three options (and combinations thereof) available in dealing with conflicts (whether real or apparent) between scriptures.

1. The different scriptures represent different views of the resurrection held in the early church and are both equally of importance.
2. The scriptures must be harmonised. One way of doing that in this instance is to say that Luke effectively has a two stage process. Jesus takes again his body of flesh and bones in the resurrection, and transforms it in the ascension. I find that unsatisfactory, because there is nothing in the text of Luke-Acts to suggest Luke held such a view.
3. One text should be hermeneutically privileged over the other, and guide its interpretation.

In this case I begin essentially by taking the third course. This is a well-worn path, and noticeable examples from the past might include the way in which texts like “The Father and I are one” (John 10:30) are used in a theological framework against texts like “the Son himself will also be subjected to the one who put all things in subjection under him” (1 Cor 15:28) to refute the Arian view.

In this case, I note that Paul’s argument is a major piece of theological reflection on the views the Corinthians are putting forward, whereas Luke’s statement is a single isolated narrative detail. Moreover, Paul is particularly dealing with the question of what appropriate language we may use to describe resurrection. His use of terms such as flesh (σὰρξ), spirit (πνεῦμα), “soul / natural life” (ψυχή) and body (σῶμα) are actually being defined by the argument, and by the ways in which they are combined or opposed. Thus his statement that “flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God” belongs not to an incidental comment, but to his definition of resurrection, and what “body” might mean when used in that context.

By contrast, in Luke’s account “flesh and bones” (σάρκα καὶ ὀστέα) is simply contrasted with “ghost / spirit” ((πνεῦμα). Leaving aside the fact that different authors do not necessarily use the same vocabulary in the same way, there is a lack of the defintional nuancing here that the additional vocabulary of Paul brings to the discussion. Luke is pursuing a dramatic narrative better served by this simple contrast which serves to stress the reality of the event he is portraying.

We may also, linguistically take this a step further. Describing how Jesus is with God takes us into the difficulty all language faces in describing God, where we have to admit that our words must necessarily be difficult and inadequate. How do we describe a body that has no physical earthly locality? Such descriptions must perforce strain the normal semantic domain of the word body. All our language about God is by way of analogy (St Thomas (ST 1.13) is still worth reading on this) and that is, it seems to me, also true of what we predicate of the risen Jesus.

Trying to univocally impute bones, flesh and blood to this body flies in the face of Paul’s affirmations that the stuff of this risen body is spirit, not flesh and blood or soul / natural life. What we normally mean by body includes those things, of course, and also patterns of eating, sleeping and defecation (which would seem to be the normal corollaries of having flesh, blood and bones). We apply that language ordinarily to that which has physical location in time and space. Paul develops a different vocabulary of body at the stretches of what is describable, and creates effectively a new analogical use of the term, and we would do well to follow him, both in acknowledging the limits of our language, and in reticence about what may be said.

John Hobbins draws attention to Pope Benedict’s recent remarks on creation and evolution, and offers a fine comment on them. It is indeed good to hear the pope state that any suggestion that belief in the Creator and acceptance of evolutionary theory are incompatible “is an absurdity.”

What I would like to emphasize is this point of John’s:

Biblical cosmology provides a basis for holding that experience might be intelligible and meaningful in the first place.

One of the most significant features of Genesis 1 is that it portrays creation as ordered. Form is given to the formless and organisation to the chaotic. It is precisely this affirmation that makes science and faith compatible. It is precisely this that affirms the worthwhile nature of scientific endeavour. Science, in the light of faith, is discovery of what is really and meaningfully there, rather than an imposition of human meaning on a meaningless cosmos.