Richard B. Hays, George Washington Ivey Professor Emeritus of New Testament and former dean at Duke University Divinity School, faced many health challenges in recent years with grace and faith. Many family members, friends and former students now mourn his loss. As great a scholar as Hays was, he was a better human being (as Carey Newman’s and Beverly Gaventa’s reflections express well).
I count it an immense honor and blessing that I learned to read Scripture critically and theologically with Hays, a careful reader and clear writer who cared deeply about the life of the mind and the life of faith. We all have a few teachers who left their mark on us and inspired us. Richard Hays is among those teachers for me, and I am not alone.
Scott Ryan
I read some of his work as an undergraduate at Gardner-Webb University. I am sure I did not fully grasp the depth or significance of his arguments at that time, but I decided I wanted to be at Duke, and I wanted to study with Hays (and a few other professors with whom I was familiar at the time). I began my faith journey in the United Methodist Church and now teach at a university supported by the UMC, but when I applied to Duke, I was running in Baptist circles. I am an example of one of those “Baptists (who) went to Duke because of Hays,” as Newman put it.
As a young and naïve undergraduate, I sent Hays an email after I was accepted into the program. He easily could have ignored the message or sent a terse reply. Instead, he wrote back a lengthy email with his characteristic patience and kindness I would soon know well. It just so happened that he did not take a research sabbatical during my three years at Duke. This meant I was able to take a course with him every semester in my time there.
I was not disappointed.
Hays epitomized the kind of scholar I hoped to be — one who engaged in critical scholarly work on the New Testament and related literature, wrote clearly and cogently, and remained focused on how that work might translate to preaching and teaching in local congregations.
“So rich were his comments that I still go back to the notes and papers from the class to recall what Hays said about a given topic.”
In the introductory New Testament class the divinity school required all entering students to take, Hays offered insightful lectures on the canonical texts. But he never lost sight that he was teaching many who soon would be pastors. He concluded his remarks on each text with a sample sermon to demonstrate how students might bring out the theological emphases of each book. The exegetical assignments we completed also included reflections on preaching and teaching. So rich were his comments that I still go back to the notes and papers from the class to recall what Hays said about a given topic.
I remember being terrified in the first seminar I had with Hays on 1 Corinthians. I did not think I had what it took to participate meaningfully in the class. I rarely spoke at first. When I finally did, he did not laugh me out of the room as I feared but affirmed me as a thinker and writer. I sat in his office one day for my mid-degree review, as he looked over my essays and transcript. I sheepishly talked about my desire to pursue further study and braced myself to be chastised. To my surprise and delight, he told me he thought I should keep going.
He was the first scholar to affirm my vocational path. I came to understand this kind of encouragement characterized Hays’ interaction with many students.
As my confidence grew and I found my voice in the classroom, we disagreed at times (I recall one substantial disagreement in a Greek exegesis class on the letter to the Hebrews). But even in those moments, when I know he could have used his knowledge and rhetorical acumen to tear down my position, he never did so. He never made me feel like my reading of a text was meritless, even if he took an alternative view.
“He never made me feel like my reading of a text was meritless, even if he took an alternative view.”
As Gaventa, my doctoral adviser, recently pointed out, this was part of the academic and ecclesial DNA of Richard Hays. My view of the Richard B. Hays of scholarly renown in his publications gradually began to be replaced with the patient and concerned Dr. Hays, the teacher and minister.
He modeled a way to engage in critical scholarship while also affirming the value of the biblical texts in the life of the church. I recall attending an event at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in Wake Forest, N.C. Hays was invited to participate on a panel discussion with Bart Ehrman, Andreas Kostenberger and Norman Geisler on the Bible and The Da Vinci Code (when that was all the rage). Before the event, Hays and I talked a bit. As a basketball fan, he commented it felt like leaving Cameron Indoor for an away game.
The discussion (perhaps inevitably) turned toward the “inerrancy” of Scripture. At one point, Geisler pounded the table on the platform and proclaimed he had studied these texts for years and never found a single mistake in any of them. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Hays (and Ehrman) remained patient, even if nonplussed by the declaration. By that point in my journey, I had left behind arguments over the “inerrancy” and “infallibility” of Scripture. Teachers like Hays displayed another way, a person who sought to be a faithful follower of Jesus, who held to the authority of the texts and yet approached the texts with intellectual rigor and honesty. Hays was one who approached the biblical texts with a “hermeneutic of trust” rather than a “hermeneutic of suspicion.”
While Hays produced several significant works that shifted the conversation in the scholarly guild, his work was not without controversy. This past year, Hays, along with his son, Christopher, published The Widening of God’s Mercy. For the elder Hays, this book returned to chapter 16 on homosexuality in his The Moral Vision of the New Testament, perhaps the most popular of his works. Some have leveled criticisms against Hays for the most recent publication, claiming another work from a white heterosexual man who changed his mind on the topic is not what we need (see here and here). That is a fair point.
“Should we not hope that all interpreters of the biblical texts show the humility to do the same?”
At the same time, given Hays’ wide readership and the controversy ignited by that portion of Moral Vision, I think it appropriate that he stated in writing his change in viewpoint. And Hays himself saw the publication of The Widening of God’s Mercy as an act of repentance, an opportunity to confess he was wrong and adjust his practice and teaching (he said so in public events in the last year). Should we not hope that all interpreters of the biblical texts show the humility to do the same?
The truth about my experience as a student of Richard Hays is that it is not at all unique, and for that reason it is all the more remarkable. Countless master’s and doctoral students can bear witness to his care and patience with his students. They can offer more personal stories of his character as a teacher and mentor.
I would often apologize for taking up Hays’ time by asking him further questions after class or asking him to write recommendation letters on my behalf. At one point, he explained he was happy to help his students and he viewed supporting students as an essential and important part of his vocation.
I am not quite sure what lies beyond this life. Hays’ teaching and writing on bodily resurrection have shaped my own reading of the New Testament texts, and I hope resurrection life will be a reality. I also hope that in God’s good future there will be space to reconvene with those we know and love in this life. If so, I hope there is a spare seat at Hays’ table, where he will likely be strumming a guitar.
I am the reader of Scripture and the person I am today in part thanks to the life, work and witness of Richard Hays. I join as one small voice in the chorus of family, friends and students to give thanks for the life of Richard Hays. May he rest in peace and rise in glory.
Scott C. Ryan serves as assistant professor of religion and biblical studies at Claflin University in Orangeburg, S.C.
Related articles:
Richard Bevan Hays: Poet, scholar, theologian, preacher | Analysis by Carey Newman
When you’re wrong, confess and seek forgiveness,’ Richard Hays says
An oft-quoted biblical scholar changes his mind on LGBTQ inclusion in the church | Opinion by Anna Sieges
How Richard Hays changed his mind | Opinion by Alan Bean