Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

What is a text? The question sounds simple enough; the answer, however, is philosophically and hermeneutically complex.

According to French philosopher and theologian Paul Ricoeur, a text is any kind of discourse that is fixed to writing, but its origins are frequently oral in nature, as in the art of storytelling and myth. Ricoeur explains, “Fixation by writing takes the very place of speech, occurring at the site where speech could have emerged.”[1] The text however, is not a static entity that is hermeneutically fixed or reified—texts invite encounter, discovery, dialogue, and interaction. In most instances, the reader cannot question what the author had in mind when penning his words and neither can the writer respond to the queries of the reader.

Ricoeur terms this formation as a “double eclipse”[2] for in a sense, both writer and reader escape the notice of the Other; this absence of presence also creates an interpretive tension between reader and text. On one level, a text presents a trace of the writer’s imagination and experience of the world. Once this experience is transcribed, the writer loses complete control of how his work will be interpreted, as Ricoeur and M. Bakhtin so note.[3] Left to its own, the written word remains in a dormant state until a reader enlivens the text’s capacity to challenge and transform his personal worldview. Each instance of engaging the text becomes an event where the minds of the past and present meld together and become one.

The etymological meaning of “text” bears this point out. The English word “text” comes from the Latin textus “woven material,” which in turn derives from the root texere “to weave.” It is still fairly common to speak about “spinning a tale” or “spinning a yarn,” or “weaving a tale,”[4] or “weaving a theme.”[5] While a text may be described as a “literary composition,” when it comes to its readers and interpreters it ought to be viewed perhaps more accurately as a “literary tapestry.”

The imagery of a literary tapestry is intriguing with respect to the Torah since each generation’s interpretations and commentaries continue to add new strands of thought that keep the text pertinent and contemporaneous. As a divine tapestry, Jewish tradition has always understood that each new generation re-weaves the sacred tradition, and in doing so, contributes toward its beauty and deeper understanding. The threads of interpretation may be different in their texture, quality, and color; nevertheless, each strand of interpretive insight adds, enhances, and preserves the ancestral tradition for future generations. Theologian R. David R. Blumenthal also touches on the theme of text as a woven fabric that continues to be rewoven by each new generation:

• The text is a fabric, woven (Latin texere/textus) from many threads. One thread is the received text—signs scratched, erased, and re-inscribed in eternity by many hands. One thread is the tradition— many conflicting voices echoing in the same eternity. One thread is the interpreter—gathering in, com-prehending, the threads into one fabric; but differently at different times. And one thread is the reader—calling and called to. All text-fabrics are created from other text—fabrics. Every reading is a gathering-in of older threads into a new tissue; an interweaving of the particular life of the reader with the tissue of the tradition. The text-fabric is never finished.[6] (Emphasis added.)

Briefly defined, the process of making an intelligible analysis of a given text is what scholars commonly refer to as “hermeneutics,” a word deriving from the Greek ἑρμηνεύω (hermēneuō) to “interpret,” or “translate.” This method aims to make intelligible one’s own thoughts or the thoughts of others, whether oral or written.[7] Hermeneutics is the critical reflection of the interpretive process, especially with respect to biblical texts, with a goal to understanding its deeper meaning. Aside from ascertaining the straightforward meaning of the text, the study of hermeneutics is also concerned with the various influences that impact a reader’s subjectivity and interpretation, such as beliefs, personal history, traditions, and so on (see Excursus 1).

The polyvalence of scriptural interpretation was well known in ancient times. The Academy of Rabbi Ishmael (ca. 2^nd century) taught, “My word is like a fire that purges dross! It is like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces!” (Jer. 23:29), i.e., “Just as a hammer can produce many sparks when it hits a flint, so too every single word that goes forth from the Holy Blessed One, splits up into seventy languages.”[8] Such interpretive diffusion creates the possibility of diverse and contrarian viewpoints—all of which have a degree of legitimacy.[9] To the religious imagination of the rabbis, the process of revelation continues to unfold in new and unpredictable ways whenever two people or more have a thoughtful exchange of wisdom and scripture. Just as God’s Oneness is inclusive of the many, so too does the Torah embrace infinite facets of meaning.

Notes:

[1] Paul Ricoeur, Hermeneutics and the Human Sciences: Essays on Language, Action and Interpretation (Cambridge, MA: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 146.

[2] Ibid., 147.

[3] See further the section beginning with: A Timeless Theological Conversation—Mikhail M. Bakhtin’s Important Insight.

[4] Literary scholar Christine de Lailhacar sees the relationship between story-telling and weaving from a different, but yet complimentary way to the explanation introduced above:

Spinning and “passing the thread through the needle`s eye”(c) are universal metaphors for storytelling, for instance, “to spin a seaman`s yarn,” as narration can be compared to a thread. In ancient Europe, village women gathered in a “Spinnstube” (spinning room), each in front of her spinning wheel, telling stories to pass the long winter evenings. They must have deployed so much imagination that “spinnen” was later expanded to mean telling crazy stories. These villagers had no mythical “Africa” to spin back to, only the same old thread. So they had to use it for imaginative “embroidery” (e). Stories, therefore, accompanied the making of a maiden`s dowry, matrimonial sheets, baby linen, and funeral shrouds from generation to generation (Liquid Crystal Wrapped in Rainbow Mist: Cecilia Vicuna and the Weaving of Water). Cited from: [http://www.respiro.org/Issue16/Non_fiction/non_fiction_christine.htm]).

There seems to be some anthropological support for de Lailhacar’s theory. Africans practicing the Dogon religion believe the art of weaving to be especially associated with the power of speech, where the organs of the mouth “weave” sounds. A similar thought is expressed elsewhere in the Hindu sacred text Rig-Veda (1.164.5), where the “concealed footprints of the gods” seem to be thought of as an analogue for the sacrificial laws that are “woven” whenever the gods, in their function as divine priests, perform the sacrifice by the “weaving of words”—all of which serve a cosmic purpose in keeping the physical universe woven and intact (EOR, op. cit., s.v., Webs and Nets, Vol. 15, 367).

[5] In the field of political commentary, a “spin master” refers to someone who possesses the ability to weave aspects of a concept in such a way so as to persuade the public.

[6] David R. Blumenthal, Facing the Abusing God: A Theology of Protest (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), 60-61.

[7] Originally, the term hermeneutic was etymologically associated with the Greek deity Hermes, whose eloquence made him the messenger of the gods; Hermes was also the deity of boundaries. From this association, three principles emerge regarding the act of interpretation: (1) interpretation involves examining a sign, a message, or a text (2) interpretation cannot occur without a “hermeneut” (i.e., the interpreter) (3) interpreting any text requires an audience of one or more people.

[8] BT Shabbat 88b.

[9] In a later Midrashic work dating back to the 11^th or 12^th century, the rabbis are believed to have said, “Because they knew how to explain the Torah with forty-nine reasons for the ritual cleanness [of an object] and a corresponding number for its uncleanness” (Ecclesiastes Rabbah 8:33).

• This article comes from my new book, “Birth and Rebirth Through Genesis: A Timeless Theological Conversation (Genesis 1-3)” (Tamarac, FL: Aeon Publishing, 2010), 29-31.

http://www.amazon.com/Birth-Rebirth-through-Genesis-Conversation/dp/1456301713/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1309652244&sr=1-2