B.H. Carroll’s Pastoral Theology
Southwestern Journal of Theology
Volume 58, No. 2 – Spring 2016
Managing Editor: W. Madison Grace II
By Walter Brueggemann. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2014. 179 pages. Paperback, $15.00.
Walter Brueggemann is professor emeritus of Old Testament at Columbia Theological Seminary. He is widely known for his socio-rhetorical methodology for studying the Old Testament. Brueggemann has written many influential works including, The Prophetic Imagination, and Theology of the Old Testament: Testimony, Dispute, Advocacy. As the introduction to the book notes, Reality, Grief, Hope is vintage Brueggemann (xiii).
The intended audience of this book appears to be American clergy. However, it also appears to be aimed at students who are undergraduates (or even first year seminary students). While the work contains sparse footnotes, the works which are cited are often weighty. The book begins (Introduction and Chapter one) with the suggestion that the social and ideological circumstances in Jerusalem after the destruction of 587 B.C. parallel the social and ideological circumstances in post 9/11 America. What he means is that the same sort of ideology is present in both situations. First, he points out a confidence in the ideology of exceptionalism. Second, he refers to a denial amid the crisis, that such ideology has failed and is not sustainable. Third, he sees despair once the denial is broken and reality is faced.
Yet, what Brueggemann asserts throughout the book is that the prophetic voice was something different from the voice of the Babylonian and Persian empires. Within biblical texts (especially Jeremiah and Lamentations) he finds several points of difference. First, he proposes as a difference the assertion of critical reality in the face of an ideology of chosenness. Second, he uncovers a voice of grief in the face of denial. Third, he sets up buoyant hope as a counter to despair (2).
In chapter two “Grief amid Denial,” Brueggeman has incorporated citations from Amos, Psalms, and Jeremiah to make his point that those who adhered to an ideology of exceptionalism lived in denial about their approaching future. Second, based upon mainly Jeremiah, Psalms and Lamentations, he stresses that the prophetic counter to denial is to practice grief. Third, he alleges that “the U.S. political economy, abetted by reassuring religion, rests upon an ideology of exceptionalism that both fosters and requires denial” (71). Fourth, citing contemporary American poets, he claims that American churches should acknowledge loss and practice grief.
In chapter four “Hope amid Despair,” Brueggemann contends that the generation of Israelites who experienced the destruction of Jerusalem looked back at that time with despair. Here he cites mainly Lamentations, Isaiah 40–66, and Jeremiah. Then, using Jeremiah and Isaiah 40-66, Brueggemann suggests that the prophetic task is to cast God’s future in hopeful imagery despite the looming disappointment. Next, Brueggemann claims that “[n]ot unlike the society of ancient Jerusalem after the destruction and in the midst of the displacement, our contemporary U.S. society is at the brink of despair” (113). In light of that claim, he professes that the prophetic task for the contemporary church is “to articulate hope, the prospect of fresh historical possibility assured by God’s good governance of the future” (119). In the fifth chapter “Living amid Empire as Neighborhood,” Brueggemann has set forth what he has identified as two competing meta-narratives: “1) the totalizing narrative of the empire, and 2) the particularizing narrative of the neighborhood” (129).
One might consider Brueggemann’s work to fit into the category of “Biblical Theology as Worldview-Story (see Klink and Lockett’s Understanding Biblical Theology, 93–107). At the same time, it could be said that Brueggemann’s approach recognizes (rightly) the continuity between the Old and New Testaments. Furthermore, he reads the text as a story more than a description of historical event.
Brueggemann has written Reality, Grief, Hope as a way of understanding the rhetoric in 21st century America in comparison to the rhetoric of Israel living under empire. While he has presented a well-written and engaging discussion, there are several shortcomings. The most obvious issue is that the book contains no indices at all, so one cannot quickly find where Brueggemann addresses specific Scriptures. Also, Brueggemann tends to make broad claims that are not always substantiated. For example, he writes “U.S. military hegemony is gone! U.S. economic domination is gone! Preferred racial-ethnic singularity is gone! Simplistic moral certitudes are gone!” but gives no citations of evidence to support his claims (82). Even if his assessment is correct in this case, Brueggemann tends to use rhetorical flourish rather than evidence in proving his claims. Readers may appreciate the fact that Brueggemann appeals to Scripture as evidence to prove his claims; however his incorporation of other poetic works in similar fashion leads one to wonder how much authority he ascribes to Scripture. Next, many readers may appreciate Brueggemann’s critique of the current attitudes in government (132), but not his attitudes toward Zionism or conservative politics. When these weaknesses are recognized, the work still stands as an engaging representation of a socio-rhetorical approach to Jeremiah, Lamentations and Isaiah 40–66, and can be recommended as such.
