Finding Meaning

The purpose of this post will be to briefly explore the usefulness of symbolism, parallelism, and literary structures in divine revelation.

Why do some specific words or phrases mean different things in different contexts? To an ordinary person, this may seem like an odd question. I confess that my own interest is due to something Gordon Clark once wrote as well as impressions I've gotten through his writings:

Suppose the word man had ten different meanings: It would be possible to invent ten different terms so that each term would stand for a single meaning, and once more the predicate and the assertion as a whole would be definite. If, however, terms had an infinite number of meanings, then all reasoning would come to an end. For if a word is to convey a significance, it must not only mean something, it must also not mean something. If it had all the meanings of all the terms in the dictionary, it would be useless in speech. Therefore, if terms had an infinite number of meanings, no term would have one meaning; and not to have one meaning is to have no meaning; but if words have no meaning, it is impossible to argue with other people or even to reason privately with oneself. If we do not think one thing, we think nothing; but if we can think of one thing, then we can assign to it a single unambiguous term. (Thales to Dewey, 2000, pgs. 87-89)

Clark was quite right that words must not mean something in order to mean something definite. But the part in bold seems to conflict with what he noted elsewhere: "…all languages have words with more than one meaning and often enough use the two meanings in one sentence" (Commentaries on Pauline Epistles, 2005, pg. 90). Writings by other Scripturalists even seem to have followed Clark's suggestions about "words" or "terms" (again, the part in bold) and applied it to sentences (link).

Perhaps Clark just meant, in Thales to Dewey, that words must mean something definite, for he didn't deny double entendres, metaphors, or the like. In any case, along these lines is the more important thought I want to stress: Clark also seems right in suggesting it possible to assign to one thought a single word or term that would convey meaning. But clearly, God did not do that in Scripture. 

Symbolism and parallelism abounds in God's word (link, link, link). Most Christians know that a lamb can symbolize Christ, even if they do not understand that the temple can symbolize the world or that a tree can symbolize a man. Most Christians also understand the following parallelism: just as Christ suffered unto glory, so too the pattern of the Christian life is to share in His suffering unto the partaking of His glory (1 Peter 4:13, 5:1). There is so much more depth to be found than this, as fundamental and important as it is (Hebrews 5:11ff.), but the main point is that some divinely revealed words have a different referent depending on different contexts.

I think we see symbols and literary parallelisms in Scripture because there are overlaps in functions, characteristics, or purposes of the realities in question. Symbols and literary parallelisms - rhetorical, structural, typological, etc. - are important because they helps us to discern the rhythms in and of history and its contents. What we learn from symbols and parallels, we then are to our apply lives with wisdom. 

Of course, this is not meant to suggest that any two realities considered in symbolism or parallel are of the same nature. Some men are called "elohim" in Scripture (Psalm 82:6-8), for example, not because such men are divine. Rather, these men image God in a particular way (as "judges") that extends beyond that of all people (Genesis 1:26-27). There is a parallel function, although the function is executed on a different scale.

Likewise, a rock is strong and God is strong: in both statements, "strong" must have some overlap in meaning for the symbolic statement that "The Lord is my rock" to be meaningful (Psalm 18:2). Of course, there is also is a disanalogy between the way in which a rock is strong and the way in which God is strong, and no one would confuse the nature of a rock with the nature of God. There is a commonality in attributing the characteristic to both subjects, although the manner in which the characteristic is exemplified will differ.

In a recent post (link), I mentioned that the Word-Christ, word-Scripture, and word-church serve coordinate functions to meet a common purpose. These too are not ontologically univocal, nor do they even have the same function or role in bringing about one's sanctification. Yet that each of these realities is referred to as a "word" indicates something in which they have something in common: each reveals God, and sanctification presupposes God's being revealed in one's life. The church-word speaks the truth of the word-Scriptures about the Word-Christ. These are so integrated in common purpose that common characteristics are also [symbolically!] attributed to them (e.g. "light").

Turning to literary structures, chiasmus (a-b-b'-a' communications), for example, are common occurrences in Scripture (link). These also reflect realities, and they are more readily ascertained and expressible due to synonyms (which wouldn't exist if we assigned to each thought a single word). For example, in the morning, we get out of bed, brush our teeth, eat, and drive to work. We then drive home, eat, brush our teeth, and go to bed in the evening. Almost every day of our lives, we live chiastically. Or take our conversions:

A - ethical presentation of the gospel to us, yet we are unable to obey it

B - metaphysical regeneration of us by the indwelling of the Spirit

C - our epistemological foundation becomes [or is implicitly understood to be] divine revelation

B' - we metaphysically understand ourselves in relation to God as sinners in need of salvation

A' - we ethically understand and obey God by faith and subsequent works 

Now, when we convert, we may not consciously submit that divine revelation is our epistemic foundation even though we subconsciously will act that way due to the indwelling of the Spirit. But that metaphysical change will transform our beliefs and actions in implicit submission to what divine revelation has to say. That is, we will - despite our continual need to put sin to death in our lives until we ourselves undergo death and resurrection - implicitly accept divine revelation as epistemologically foundational.

A mature awareness of our transformed epistemology - that is, when we consciously set the self-authenticating revelation of God (the extant extent of which is, for us, codified in Scripture) as our epistemological foundation - will lead to a mature knowledge and defense of the metaphysical and ethical transformations that have already occurred in us.

What this chiasm enables us to see more clearly is the relationship between epistemology and metaphysics. Our knowledge is caused, not self-originated. Indeed, there are good arguments for why our knowledge cannot be self-originated (link, link). Metaphysics precedes epistemology in the order of being. Metaphysical regeneration logically precedes epistemological transformation. 

That being said, epistemology logically precedes (or at least has equally primacy with) metaphysics in the order of knowing, for it is only from a correct epistemological foundation that one is able to know metaphysical truths (including the foundation itself, or how one came to know it in the order of his being).

In sum, because symbols, parallels, and structures are patterns in reality, they are reflected in divine revelation. These help us to find meaning in our lives. We ourselves are images of God (Genesis 1:26-27). Thus, as words of God (Revelation 19:9), we can only find meaning in relating ourselves to the Word of God (Christ, Revelation 19:9) by structuring our lives according to the word of God (Scripture, Revelation 22:7).