Biblical Theology: Past, Present, and Future (II)
Southwestern Journal of Theology
Volume 56, No. 1 – Fall 2013
Managing Editor: Terry L. Wilder
By Carl R. Trueman. Wheaton: Crossway, 2010. 189 pages. Softcover, $17.99.
In this introduction to historical method, Carl R. Trueman confesses his former leeriness toward books about the theories and techniques of the historian: “those who can write history, do write history; those who cannot, write books telling others how do it” (13). Fortunately, Trueman has written and taught history with excellence for nearly two decades, and his book on historical method is infused with a passion for practicing history.
Throughout his book, Trueman sets out to find a via media between two contemporary views on history. On the one hand, Trueman tries to correct the common view that history is merely “a collation of facts which can only be related together in one valid narrative” (17). On the other hand, he wants to counter relativists who deny the historian’s ability to know the past and who see all historical narratives as equally valid (19). History, Trueman argues, cannot be boiled down to a single, inflexible pattern or narrative. Historians add their own biases, perspectives, and interpretations to the facts of history; furthermore, they can consider various facets of the historical drama—that is, for example, political, religious, or economic factors. On the other hand, historians can access the past and show the validity of some narratives over others through commonly used historical methods. Trueman’s discussion of various historical methods and fallacies throughout his book are formed by, and give emphasis to, these primary claims.
Trueman’s book, moreover, does not only present what students of history should avoid. As mentioned above, it is a book designed for those who desire to practice history, and its strength lies in the insight it provides for those who want to do history. Indeed, compared with the vast body of material on this subject, this book does not (nor does it try to) measure up to the relatively comprehensive nature of David Fischer’s Historians’ Fallacies: Toward a Logic of Historical Thought, nor to the theoretical depth, for example, of David Bebbington’s Patterns in History: A Christian View. This book is an invaluable tool, however, especially for the beginning student who desires to learn how, as the English poet George Herbert once wrote, “to copy fair, what time hath blurred.”
Trueman achieves his goals, of showing students what to avoid as well as how to practice history, by discussing his material through the use of specific and compelling case studies. Thus, the student, in a sense, is taken as an apprentice, not only reading what Trueman says about history, but also watching him do history. In chapter one, for example, he examines the notion of objectivity by interacting with the proponents of Holocaust Denial (HD). If relativists claim that all historical narratives are equally valid, they must face a question, both historical and ethical in nature: Is it good history when HD proponents call the Nazi’s mass murder of the Jews a hoax? No, Trueman answers (25–68). Though historians will not be neutral (i.e., they will still have biases), they can practice history objectively by the constant “corroboration and verification” of the data (62–63).
In chapter two, Trueman takes up the case of Marxist history, as exemplified by Christopher Hill, a historian of seventeenth-century England. Positively, Trueman praises Marxist historians for reminding others of the importance of economic factors in past societies (69–107). The “grand schemes” of Marxist history, however, hold these historians captive, particularly when they inflexibly hold to their theories about the patterns of history (69). All historians, Trueman writes, are prone to this temptation when their philosophies become “less a means of penetrating history and more a prescriptive, Procrustean bed into which the evidence must fit or be twisted to fit” (107).
In chapter three, Trueman considers a problem characteristic especially of intellectual and theological historians, namely, anachronism. Historians, he explains, can easily “impose on the past ideas, categories, or values that were simply nonexistent or that did not have the same function or significance during the time being studied” (109). To illustrate this issue, Trueman presents two case studies.
In the first case, he compares John Calvin with the seventeenth-century reformed theologian, Francis Turretin. Some scholars have compared these two figures merely by examining the form and language of their major works—that is, Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion and Turretin’s The Institutes of Elenctic Theology. Such practice leads to anachronistic results because each text is read outside of its own historical context. Only by examining context can historians discover the complex relationship between the two men and their two texts, finding their true similarities and differences (120–29). Trueman’s appendix, “The Reception of Calvin: Historical Considerations,” provides a larger context for this discussion while adding more helpful methodological advice (183–89). In his second case study, Trueman considers the problem of Martin Luther’s supposed racism. Again noting Luther’s context, he argues, in short, that Luther was no racist, for sixteenth-century men thought in terms of religion rather than race (129–38).
Over the next two chapters, Trueman changes his approach. In chapter four, he examines the most common historical fallacies, such as reification, oversimplification, and generalization. He also discusses the importance of asking questions in the proper manner, as well as the relationship between providence and history (141– 68). In his “Concluding Historical Postscript,” Trueman defends the helpfulness of history in a society characterized by “antihistorical tendencies” because of the “dominance of science” and the effect of constant technological advances (169–70). More valuable in this chapter, however, is Trueman’s advice to the history student who wants to improve his craft: “Be aware of the various errors and fallacies noted in this book; read widely in the discipline; as you do so, ask not simply what is being said, but how the historian is going about the work of saying it; read widely in the culture of your chosen period; read eclectically across the disciplines, pillaging anything from other fields of intellectual endeavor that might help you understand the complexity of human action; read the classics of history; know the history of your discipline; and read sane accounts, by proven historians, of how they themselves pursue their craft” (180).
Histories and Fallacies is itself a “sane” account by a “proven” historian that would benefit any student of history—or, as a matter of fact, any theologian, pastor or lay person casually interested in history. In it, Trueman provides lucid discussions of compelling subjects, from the history of the Holocaust, to the history of revolutionary England, to the background of Martin Luther’s supposed racism. In the process, he clearly explains and illustrates good historical practice. His own passion for doing history permeates this book, and it would be difficult for any reader to put it down without a desire to read and practice history for himself.
