καθὼς γέγραπται

GNT2012 - Matthew 7.7-8.13

2012-01-14T10:37:00.000-06:00

WhenI was growing up my father often reminded me that the key to purchasing qualityfruit is knowing how to pick the good stuff. It is delicate work because grocersare smart. They use fancy lights and dip the fruit in a thin veneer of wax to trickyou into thinking it is all good. It is not. In order to discern good from bad,you cannot trust your eyes alone. You have to feel the fruit. Is it too hard ormushy? Is it covered with occasional soft spots from sitting in the pile toolong? It takes effort to discern the quality of fruit and looks can bedeceiving.

Jesususes fruit discernment as a measure for evaluating those who claim to speak onbehalf of God as he concludes the Sermon on the Mount. He warns, “Watch out forthe falseprophets, who will come to you in sheep’s clothing, but will beplundering wolves. From their fruit you will know them” (Mt 7.15-16).

Theprinciple is simple enough, but often people trust their eyes and fail to evaluatecarefully. A friend of mine spent a summer internship at a large church and wasconvinced that the church was failing to make real disciples. Then he quipped, “But,they have had hundreds of baptisms this year alone. I guess you can’t arguewith that kind of fruit.” Big fruit is not good fruit. Lots of fruit is notgood fruit. Jesus is not advocating an ends-justifies-the-means approach toteaching. Rather, he is saying quite pointedly, “Good fruit looks likeobedience to my teaching.”

Howdoes your church measure up to the Sermon on the Mount? Most people go to churches that make them feel comfortable,have nice facilities, and good children’s programs. I have never read the Sermonon the Mount and felt comfortable afterward. What would happen if churches were evaluated by Jesus' teaching? How would yours measure up?

GNT2012 - Matthew 6.19-7.6

2012-01-12T10:10:00.000-06:00

Jesuswas one of those dangerous and dynamic people who lived with no attachment towealth. He called his followers to a radical anxiety-free existence while dependingon God for basic needs (Mt 6.19-33). This concept is so foreign in the contemporarywestern world. Personally, I have no physical need that is not currently met.Even more, I have no foreseeable need that I will be unable to fill. How do Jesus’words about trusting God for basic needs apply in such a context?

Inthe middle of his teaching on wealth Jesus provides an odd metaphor for understandinghis exhortation to trust God with basic needs.

Thelamp of the body is the eye. Therefore, if your eye is sincere [ἁπλοῦς], your whole body will be shining. But if your eyeis evil, your whole body will be dark. Therefore, if the light in you is dark,how great is the dark? (Mt 6.22-23)

Theadjective “sincere” [ἁπλοῦς] is unique, appearing only in this saying in theentire NT (Mt 6.22 || Lk 11.34). Additionally, it is extremely rare outside theNT, making it difficult to translate. The NIV, NRSV and ESV translate it “healthy,”while the NASB reads “clear.” It is an odd word to use for vision because ittypically means something like “sincere” or “straightforward.” The Jewishhistorian Josephus uses the adjective to describe “frank” speech in the contextof political intrigue (JW 1.469). The Jewish philosopher Philo uses the same wordto mean “simple” or “clear” when describing the commands of God in the Torah (Spec. Laws 1.299). Thus, it refers to honest and unpolluted dispositionas well as something uncomplicated.

Thereis one clear parallel in Jewish literature from around the same time (c. 150 BCE).In Testament of Issachar,

“Thegenuine [ἁπλοῦς] man does not desiregold, he does not defraud his neighbor, he does not long for fancy foods, nordoes he want fine clothes. He does not make plans to live a long life, butawaits only the will of God.”^{^[1]}

This is quite similar to Jesus’ conclusion,“But seek first the kingdom of Godand his righteousness, and all these things [basic needs] will be added to you”(Mt 6.33).

In this text, the phrase “of God [τοῦ θεοῦ]” is a difficulttextual variant. Matthew rarely uses the phrase “kingdom of God” (Mt 12.28;19.24; 21.31, 43) and when he does it appears he is following source material (Mt12.28 || Lk 11.20; Mt 19.24 || Mk 10.25 || Lk 18.24). The textual evidence fromthe very early codex Sinaiticus, however, supports the reading against themajority of texts. Ultimately, I think including the phrase is the best readingbecause otherwise it is difficult to explain the modifying pronoun “his” onrighteousness and it is easily conceivable for a scribe to drop a phrase sorare in Matthew.

^{^[1]}H. C. Kee, “Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs,” The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (ed. James H. Charlesworth; NewYork: Yale University Press. 1983), 803.

Must Own Book

2012-01-10T13:34:00.001-06:00

Richard Bauckham's fantastic introduction to Revelation, The Theology of the Book of Revelation, is available on Amazon Kindle for only $ 4! If you are a seasoned scholar or have no idea what Revelation is about, you need to read this book. Buy it.

GNT2012 - Matthew 6.1-18

2012-01-07T16:01:00.000-06:00

Thefirst part of Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount (Mt 5-7) focuses on Jesus’relationship to the scriptures of Israel. While affirming the eternal value ofthe law (Mt 5.17-20) Jesus sets his teaching as the standard of living for thosein God’s kingdom and intensifies OT teachings that were particularly debated amongthe Pharisees. There is a transition in Mt 6.1 where the focus shifts to thethree actions that were particularly emphasized in first century Judaism – almsgiving,prayer and fasting. Jesus has turned from how to interpret the law (5.21-48) tohow it ought to be practiced (6.1-18).

Jesusemphasizes righteous actions are not for publicity (Mt 6.1, 2, 5, 16), but donesecretly for the father in heaven (Mt 6.4, 6, 17-18). The reason for secrecy isexplicitly connected to reward for righteous actions. Public actions merit the “reward[μισθός]” of public attention. This Greek word μισθός is an economic term referringto the wages earned by a laborer (Mt 20.8; Lk 10.7; 1 Cor 3.8, 14; 1 Tim 5.18;James 5.4). Thus, Jesus says that those who perform righteous action forrecognition receive the praise of men as their “pay.” However, Jesus usesanother economic term to refer to God who will “repay [ἀποδίδωμι]”those righteous actions done secretly (Mt 6.4, 6, 18). This economic termrefers to the act of repayment (cf. Mt 5.26; 18.25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 34). Thesetwo words can even appear in the same context. For example, in a later parable inMatthew a work manager is commanded, “Call the workers and pay [ἀποδίδωμι] them the wage[μισθός]” (Mt 20.8). Jesus says that the present payment of righteous action ispublic acclaim, but the “payment” deferred until future judgment will be givenby God in eternal reward (cf. Mt 16.27).

Thereare numerous minor textual variants to the end of the “Lord’s Prayer” (Mt6.9-13). The shortest reading ends the prayer, “but deliver us from the evilone [ἀλλὰ ῥῦσαι ἡμᾶς ἀπὸ τοῦ πονηροῦ]” (6.13). Variousother endings include:

“Amen[αμην]”
“Because yours is the kingdom and thepower and the glory for the ages, amen [ὁτι σου ἐστιν ἡ βασιλεία καὶ ἡ δόξα εἰς τοῦς αἰῶνας αμην]”
“Because yours is the kingdom of the Fatherand the son and the Holy Spirit for the ages, amen [ὁτισου ἐστιν ἡ βασιλεία τοῦ πατρὸς καὶ τοῦ υἱοῦ καὶ τοῦ ἁγίου πνεύματος εἰς τοῦς αἰῶνας αμην]”

Thesedifferences are easily explained by the fact that this prayer was widely used inthe early church. Thus, scribes probably spent little time “copying” and tendedto simply write the text as they remembered it.

GNT2012 - Matthew 5

2012-01-06T11:57:00.002-06:00

Myreading the NT aloud in Greek prompts ridicule from my wife. She finds my voicestumbling over the foreign words obnoxious, yet I persist. Reading throughMatthew 5 I became all the more convinced that reading aloud is good practice.

Inthe text of Matthew 5 itself there are numerous indictors that these are wordsfor speaking and hearing. At the very beginning of Jesus’ most famous teachingMatthew writes, “having opened his mouthhe taught them saying . . .” Matthewdraws attention to Jesus’ delivery of this speech. Then throughout the teachingJesus refers to hearing and speaking sacred words (Mt 5.21, 27, 31, 33, 38, 43)and his contrasting vocalization (Mt 5.22, 28, 32, 34, 39, 44). Exploring theway these words roll of the tongue, even inarticulately, is one step closer tohearing Matthew as the early Christians did.

I expected to see numerous textualvariants in Matthew 5. After all, this is some of Jesus’ most uncompromisingteaching. Yet the manuscripts have no proclivity to soften the words of Jesusor make them more palatable. Nearly all the textual variations are smallchanges in verb tenses or word order. There is an interesting textual variant,however, in Matthew 5.44. Earliest manuscripts (Siniaticus, Vaticanus, et. al)read, “But I say to you, ‘Love your enemies and pray for those persecuting you [προσευχεσθε ὐπερ τῶν διωκόντων ὑμας].’” Codex Bezea and someother early manuscripts reads instead of the italicized portion above, “Speak well of those cursing you [ευλογειτε τους καταρωμενους ὑμας].” Other early manuscriptsread, “Do good to those hating you [καλως ποιειτε τοις μισουσιν ὑμας],” and others still, “prayfor those tempting you [προσευχεσθε ὑπερ τῶν επηραζοντῶν ὑμας].” Each of these readingsis very much in keeping with the difficulty of Jesus’ teaching and appearsconnected to closing beatitudes addressed in the second person (Mt 5.11-12). Ultimately,these additions appear to be an attempt at harmonizing this teaching with Luke’sversion (Lk 6.27-28). What is clear is that these textual variants show no attemptto moderate Jesus’ difficult teaching about loving enemies

GNT2012 – Matthew 4

2012-01-06T09:38:00.000-06:00

Thestory of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness has always fascinated me. It canfunction on so many levels, but I want to briefly explore the way it functionsin Matthew’s narrative of Jesus' Messianic identity.

Thestory is framed as a divinely ordained encounter. Jesus “was led into thedesert by the Spirit” (Mt 4.1). God has just confirmed Jesus’ identity inbaptism, and now he sends him into the desert to be tested.Numerous scholars have observed the striking similarities to Israel’s story ofpassing through water and being led into the desert to be tempted in the Exodus. Again Matthew is activating the story of Israel as he tells the story of Jesus.

Afterforty days of fasting, “the testing one [ὁ πειράζων]” arrives and suggests that Jesus confirm his identityas the “Son of God” (4.3, 5-7). Post-Nicea, this phrase is commonly interpretedto refer to Jesus’ ontological status as the second member of the trinity. Yet,that theological framework did not yet exist when Matthew wrote his gospel.Furthermore, Matthew has already framed this narrative as a story about Israel’sMessiah, and in the scriptures of Israel “Son of God” is the title for the kingas evidenced in the allusion to Ps 2 in Jesus’ baptism (Mt 3.17).

The devil is not suggesting Jesus confirm his divinity but rather his identityas Israel’s king by feeding himself and then again by putting his identity on displayin the temple (4.5-7). Finally, the Devil offers what rightfully belongs toIsrael’s king – the kingdoms of the world (4.6-7). Here is the means for Jesusto accomplish God’s will without having to suffer God’s way.

Ineach instance Jesus refutes temptation by speaking Israel’s sacred scriptures.He refuses the satanic shortcuts to Messianic confirmation. These shortcutscould probably have prevented John’s death (Mt 4.12) and Jesus’ cross. Yet,they would ultimately fail to bring the kingdom of heaven.

Barclay on Offensive Grace

2012-01-06T09:02:00.000-06:00

I first discovered Todd Still while working on a Thessalonians paper. I found his book Conflictat Thessalonica a model of biblical scholarship. He is rigorously historical,careful in his judgment and pays close attention to the text. Thus I wasdelighted to stumble upon a volume of essays he edited focusing on the old questionof the relationship between Jesus and Paul, Jesusand Paul Reconnected: Fresh Pathways to an Old Debate. The list ofcontributors includes some of the best NT scholars alive: John M. G. Barclay, StephenWesterholm, Bruce W. Longenecker, Markus Bockmuehl, Francis Watson and BeverlyRoberts Gaventa.

John Barclay’s article, “‘Offensiveand Uncanny’: Jesus and Paul on the Caustic Grace of God” draws from Bultmannand Sanders to ask why Jesus and Paul were offensive to their contemporaries.Barclay still considers this question largely unanswered. His suggestion,surprising in a post-Sanders world, but argued brilliantly is that the scandalof both Jesus and Paul was “the enactment of the deeply subversive and sharplycaustic grace of God” (5). Indeed, “both enact and express a paradigm of God’sgrace that is simultaneously welcoming to the lost outsider and deeply challengingto the insider” (17).

Barclay points out thatthough Sanders refers to the availability of forgiveness in Jewish literature (Jesus and Judaism, 202-3), Sanders failsto take note of how Jesus’ enactment of that grace is actually portrayed in thegospels themselves. “As the parable indicates, Jesus is dealing with people whocan never expect to find social acceptance, the irretrievably wicked, who arepermanently subject to hostility or suspicion” (9). Though ideally these sinner-folkshad the availability of forgiveness, it was practically speaking sociallyproblematic. It is not that Jesus introduced a new idea of “grace,” but rather heenacted the grace latent in Israel’s traditions. “This dramatic act of generosityemerges out of the ethos of Israel’s traditions and scriptures, butsimultaneously threatens to destabilize the categories and norms by whichrighteousness is defined and covenant maintained” (11). So, the father wholoves the hard-working elder son is not celebrating the wickedness of theyounger son. Rather, he is attempting to uphold that standard of just activitywhile simultaneously welcoming the younger son. This, in turn, forces the elderson to submit to the scandal of welcoming back his wicked brother. Here is thesubversive grace of God on display.

The revelation of the gospelis equally destabilizing for Paul, who prior to Damascus is the quintessential “elderbrother” – righteous according to the law (Phil 3.6). Yet, it was preciselythis righteousness that prevented Paul from seeing the grace of God at work inthe Messiah. In Barclay’s brief reading of Rom 9-11 he observes the way inwhich it is God’s prerogative to act with unsettling grace (Rom 9.6-29) whichhas become a “stone of stumbling” for Israel (Rom 9.30-10.21). In the end, Paulargues that no-one can rest on their elective laurels but only the divine grace(Rom 11.1-32). Thus, “Romans 9-11 is about the bonfire of the vanities, whenevery social, legal, ethnic, and political support is stripped away by theacerbic, but ultimately redemptive, grace of God” (16). This revelation ofgrace forces Paul to rethink social identity for the people of God. He can nolonger operate under Torah but a new kind of social status quo that operateswith caustic grace, a grace that is everywhere imprinted in Torah but easily missedby righteous eyes. Barclay as usual is cautious, not suggesting that Paul gotthe idea from Jesus but simply noting the striking “congruity between Jesus andPaul on this issue” (17). As Barclay sees it, the enactment of grace is thescandal of Jesus and Paul.

GNT2012 - Matthew 2-3

2012-01-03T19:28:00.000-06:00

The “Magi [μάγοι]” are unique to Matthew’s gospel and fit awkwardly inthe story. Nearly everything that occurs in Matthew’s infancy narrative isdescribed as the fulfillment of prophecy (Mt 1.23; 2.6, 15, 18, 23). Evenminute details, such as the escape to Egypt or settling in Nazareth, arefulfilled prophecy. Shockingly, the one exception to this fulfillment theme isthe conspicuous Magi. Surely, Matthew’s creative exegesis could have made useof Isaiah 18.7, Isaiah 56.6-8, or Ps 72.10-11. Or why not Isaiah 60.4-6, a text that mentions foreigners carrying “gold”and “frankincense” to Jerusalem in celebration of God’s glory dwelling inIsrael? Yet Matthew’s Magi are not depicted as fulfilling prophecy. Matthew surelyknew these texts for he cites Isa 56.7 later in his gospel (Mt 21.13). Why,then, are these significant characters uniquely not portrayed fulfilling prophecy?Perhaps Matthew intends an oblique allusion hoping his readers will make theconnection? Maybe he hopes to focus his hearers’ attention on Jesus as Israel’sMessiah?

There are not manyinteresting textual variants in Matthew 2-3, save one. When Jesus comes out ofthe Jordan River, Matthew 3.17 reads, “And behold a voice from heaven saying, ‘This is my beloved son, in whom I ampleased.” Codex Bezea, a fifth century western text reads otherwise, “Andbehold a voice from heaven saying to him[προς αυτον], ‘You are [συ ει] my beloved son,in whom I am pleased.” The Western text turns Matthew’s public announcement intoa personal message directed explicitly to Jesus. This reading is also found insynoptic parallels (Mk 1.11; Lk 3.22) which both read, “you are [σὺ εἶ] my son.”All three texts allude to the LXX Ps 2.7, an enthronement song of David thatreads, “The Lord said to me, ‘You are[εἶ σύ] my son, today I have begotten you.’” This variant ispossibly an attempt at harmonization with both the other gospels and Psalm 2. Theallusion to Psalm 2 is also an interesting example of an instance where Matthew chosenot to exploit an OT text for his fulfillment theme. It is curious to attemptto follow Matthew’s logic in applying the fulfillment theme.

Reading the Greek New Testament in 2012

2012-01-02T22:39:00.000-06:00

TodayI began reading through the Greek NT as part of a 2012 reading plan. It's a light load, leisurely completed in ayear. I’m using Zondervan’s AReader’s Greek New Testament 2^ndedition alongside my wide-marginNA²⁷. My reading is focused in three ways. First, I’m readingthe Greek text aloud. The oral culture of the ancient world used texts asvehicles for verbal performances, so I want to see how reading thetext aloud will help me experience it more similarly to the earliest Christians.Second, I’m paying attention to textual variants as interpretive clues. Variant readings provide some of the earliest interpretations of texts as well as potentiallysuperior alternatives. My explorations of textual variants will sometimes relateto better readings and other times to early interpretation. Third, I am avoiding all commentaries.I want allow my imagination be shaped solely by closely reading the text. Lastly, and this is how I want to process my reading, Iwill blog short observations with the commitment to keep posts underfive-hundred words.

Today I read the first chapter of Matthew. Admittedly, the genealogy (1.2-16) was lackluster, but it allowed me to concentrate on the pronunciation and rhythm ofthe text. I was struck by the repetition of sounds with only occasionalvariation (1.3, 5, 6, 11, 16). One quickly notices that changes from the repetitious "X begat Y . . ." drawattention to the women included in the genealogy (1.3, 5, 6) as well as Davidas a king (1.6), Babylonian exile (1.11) and the passive verb used to describeJesus who “was born” (ἐγεννήθη) from Mary andis called “Messiah” (1.16). These variations suggest that an ancient reader,like many modern ones, would have taken notice of these conspicuous women, David’s kingshipand Babylonian exile coming together in the Christ son of God. Additionally, the summarycounting of generations in 1.17 draws a line from Abraham to David to exile to“the Messiah” suggesting that Jesus is the fulfillment of promises to Abraham,David and post-exilic longings for redemption. Thus, the genealogy provides theexpectation to read Matthew looking for Abraham, David and Exile.

A particular textual variant also caught my eye. Matthew 1.21 reads, “And she will bear a son, andyou will call his name Jesus, for he will save his people [λαὸν αὐτοῦ] from their sins.” The Curetonian Syriac textreads “He will save the world [κοσμον] from their sins.”Obviously, this lone Syriac witness does not represent a better reading, but itdoes suggest an interesting interpretive move. Among early Syriac ChristiansJesus was understood as the savior of the world from his infancy. This issomewhat different from Matthew’s emphasis on Jesus as Israel’s Messiah in thegenealogy, but I thought it worthy of note nonetheless. It will be helpful totake not of other differences in Syriac manuscripts to see if universalizing the mission of Jesus is a Syriac tendency or an anomaly.

Beker on Paul's Theology

2011-12-19T09:57:00.001-06:00

J. C. Beker’s Paulthe Apostle: The Triumph of God in Life and Thought is a seminaldescription of Paul’s theology as fundamentally apocalyptic. Beker is emphaticthat Paul’s gospel is not an individual message of salvation, but much more:

The gospel is not primarily an intrapsychic phenomenon thatlimits itself to the conversion of individual souls climbing out of a lostworld into the safety of the church, like drowning people climb aboard a safevessel. Rather the gospel proclaims the new state of affairs that God hasinitiated in Christ, one that concerns the nations and the creation. (8)

Unlike Acts, which highlights Paul’s conversion (Acts 9.1-19;22, 26), “conversion” is not a major theme of Paul’s theology. Rather, Paulonly speaks of his “calling” as a prophet taking the early Christian mission tothe Gentiles (esp. Gal 1.15-16). Thus, Beker concludes that Paul’s thought isnot shaped chiefly by his “conversion experience,” but rather his“hermeneutic.”

By “hermeneutic,” Beker does not mean the way Paulinterprets scripture. Instead, it refers to “the constant interaction between thecoherent center of the gospel and its contingent interpretation” (11). Here weget to what Beker is most often famous for; his description of Paul’s thoughtas both coherent and contingent. Ashe puts it, “Paul is neither a rationalistic dogmatist nor a Mishnaictraditionalist; nor is he an opportunistic compromiser or a thoughtlesscharismatic. Rather, he is able to make the gospel a word on target for theparticular needs of his churches without either compromising its basic contentor reducing it to a petrified conceptuality” (12). So what is the coherentcenter of Paul’s gospel, and how does it interact with the contingent needs ofhis churches?

As Beker sees it, the coherent center of Paul’s thought isthe “symbolic structure” or “language in which Paul expresses the Christ-event”(15), and this language is thoroughly apocalyptic. Thus, Paul uses a range ofsymbols within this apocalyptic structure, including righteousness, justification by faith,being in Christ, freedom, adoption etc. All of these symbols are contingentexpressions of Paul’s apocalyptic gospel suited for a particular situation.Thus, Beker argues, “the characterof Paul’s contingent hermeneutic is shaped by his apocalyptic core in that in nearlyall cases the contingent interpretation of the gospel points—whether implicitlyor explicitly—to the imminent cosmic triumph of God” (19).

Beker’sinitial chapters beg many questions. For example, what exactly does he mean bythe slippery word “apocalyptic”? How does this contingency and coherence playout in Paul’s letters themselves? How might describing Paul’s thought as “apocalyptic”solve perennial problems in Pauline theology? I will post more on bothcontingency and coherence as I work through Beker, but I will say that hisbasic argument that Paul’s theology has a coherent framework in contingentexpressions seems quite accurate

Five Views on Justification

2011-12-16T15:11:00.002-06:00

Todaythe meaning and significance of the pet protestant doctrine of justification is“contested at virtually every turn.” James K. Beilby and Paul R. Eddy’s, Justification: Five Views presents athoughtful introduction to the debate. The book is the most recent installmentfrom IVP in the “Spectrum Multiview” series. As usual, the format consists ofeach contributor stating his case followed by a series of short responses from eachof the others. The editors of the volume (Beilby and Eddy) have served in thesame capacity for other Spectrum Multiview volumes, most recently on TheHistorical Jesus. In Justification:Five Views the contributing authors and perspectives are as follows:

TraditionalReformed – Michael S. Horton
ProgressiveReformed – Michael F. Bird
NewPerspective – James D. G. Dunn
Deification(Theosis) – Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen
RomanCatholic – Gerald O’Collins and Oliver Rafferty

Iam particularly looking forward to the chapters by Dunn and Bird, NT scholars whowill contribute most in the NT aspect of the debate. However, I’m alsointerested in the Eastern perspective of Kärkkäinen and the Roman Catholicresponse to this seemingly very protestant squabble.

So,what exactly is the dispute? After all, justification has been the centralfeature of protestant doctrine since Protestantism carved out its place in the landscapeof western Christendom. Martin Luther claimed, “If we lose the doctrine ofjustification we lose everything” (Lectures on Galatians, cited on pg 24).Similarly, John Calvin described justification as, “the primary article of theChristian religion” (Institutes3.2.1; cited on pg 26). Justification is at the heart of protestant theology, yetrecent developments in NT studies have fractured fault-lines of debate in theonce firm foundational doctrine.

Beilbyand Eddy provide a comprehensive yet surprisingly succinct introduction to thedebate in two chapters. The first chapter spans from Origen to contemporaryfeminists and places the recent discussion in the context of historicaltheology. The highlights include sections on Augustine (19-21), Luther (24-26),Tillich and Bultmann (34-37). The introductory material is fairly derivative,but it seemed to me that these sections were the most familiar territory to theeditors. The difficulty of this broad introduction is the numerous sub-debates ofhistorical theology. For example, Augustine’s view of justification is as much contestedas Paul’s. Thus, it is difficult to provide a sufficient introduction withoutgetting lost in the intricacies of sub-debates. Beilby and Eddy have managed afine attempt, if occasionally erring on the side of generality rather than intricacy.

Thesecond chapter frames debate in terms of the “New Perspective.” For theuninitiated, the New Perspective (NP) is really not all that “new.” Spearheaded by E. P. Sanders’ Pauland Palestinian Judaism (in 1977), the fundamental axiom of the NP is that thereformers were wrong about Second Temple Judaism. NP folks argue that theportrait of Judaism as a “works-based” religion whereby Jews earned salvationthrough meritorious acts of righteousness is fundamentally flawed and not the objectof attack in Romans and Galatians. The most representative figures of thisdiverse group are E. P. Sanders, James D. G. Dunn and N. T. Wright. Agree withit or not, the NP debate has set the theological agenda for Pauline studies in thelast forty years. It’s ramifications for justification are significant becauseit requires rethinking what Paul means when he talks about being justified byfaith apart from works (esp. Rom 3.21-26; Gal 2.15-21). The exegetical issuesof the discussion revolve around Paul’s relationship to Judaism, the role ofworks in final judgment, the OT backgroundof justification and the meaning of the phrase “faith of Jesus.”Both introductory chapters are necessary to appreciate the significance of thedebate and what is truly at stake.

Theintroductory material alone is worth making the book assigned reading for anundergraduate course in Pauline theology. For only $ 15.35 at Amazon, and even less in the Kindle version $ 9.99, it is a steal. All in all, it is a solid introduction to a NT debateand the significant theological implications that result. Students will be wellserved by such an introduction.

Navigating Cultures and Biblical Interpretation

2011-10-29T14:37:00.000-06:00

Anyonewho has read the Bible knows it’s weird. Some of the commands found in itspages are utterly foreign to contemporary readers. Some instructions sound ridiculous:injunctions against cooking an animal a certain way (Deut14.21), oravoiding pork as unclean to the touch (Deut 14.8; cf. Lev 11.26). Or considerthis one: “You shall not sow your field with two kinds of seed, nor shall youwear a garment of cloth made of two kinds of material” (Lev 19.19). Really?

Notonly do most Christians ignore these commands, but they don’t even understandthem. A typical Christian response to these passages is, “Ah yes, but these areOld Testament commands. So, clearlythey don’t apply to us as Christians.” This response is woefully inadequate,not least because there are equally odd commands in the New Testament thatcontemporary Christians do not understand or practice either.

Forexample, when was the last time you entered a church service to “greet oneanother with a holy kiss” (1 Cor 16.20)? Most churches follow, in some form oranother, Jesus’ command to remember the Lord’s Supper (1 Cor 11.23-25; cf. Mt26.26-29 || Mk 14.22-25 || Lk 22.18-20). Why, then, do they ignore the commandrecorded in John’s version of the story, “You ought to wash one another’s feet”(Jn 14.13; cf. 1 Tim 5.10)? The Apostle Paul commands women in worship to covertheir heads (1 Cor 11.6-7), ignored every Sunday at my church. James said thatif a man is sick he should, “call for the elders of the church, and let thempray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord” (James 5.14). Bothtestaments contain commands and teachings that people, even self-proclaimed “Bible-followers,”ignore. No matter loudly or adamantly people claim to “just do what the Biblesays,” they do not.

Weall interpret the Bible to make senseof it. Indeed, for most people a large part of this has already been done forthem since they read the Bible from a translation. One of the most importantquestions when reading scripture is evaluating how it should be applied. Whyare some passages still applicable and others abrogated? It is precisely thisquestion that William J. Webb attempts to answer in his brilliant book, SlavesWomen & Homosexuals: Exploring the Hermeneutics of Cultural Analysis. Webb focuses on three issues thatmake the Bible distasteful in modern culture – slavery, women andhomosexuality.

Webbdescribes his approach to application as a “redemptive-movement hermeneutic.”The redemptive-movement hermeneutic (RMH) endeavors to “engage the redemptivespirit of the text in a way that moves the contemporary appropriation of thetext beyond its original-application framing” (30). Thus, passages that areculturally irrelevant today have to be read first in the framework of theiroriginal culture and then the spirit of that text must be translated. Somepassages are enduring and require little to no cultural translation. Othertexts, however, are actually misapplied if applied without culturaltranslation.

TheRMH is set in contrast to what Webb calls a “static appropriation of scripture.”A static hermeneutic applies the words of a text without little concern for howthe words of a text fit in their original cultural context (30-31). A statichermeneutic assumes that the best application of scripture is simply what thetext says regardless of cultural context. A RMH, in contrast, tries to discoverthe original intent of a text before applying it in a new cultural context.

Thebook addresses three issues with his RMH. First, Webb analyzes the issue ofslavery. The Bible does not condemn slavery in either testament (Lev 25.44; Eph6.5-9; 1 Pet 2.18). Indeed, many Christians were slave-owners and attempted todefend their dehumanizing activity with the Bible. On the other hand, theabolitionist movement was spearheaded by Christians who also used the Bible todefend their cause. Second, Webb addresses the contentious issue of what rolewomen ought to have in the church. The Bible reflects the patriarchal cultures inwhich it was produced (Gen 3.16; 1 Cor 11.2-16; Eph 5.22-24; etc.). This issue,unlike slavery, is still widely debated though the cultural trend in the westernworld is moving toward women gaining increased leadership. Third, Webb appliesthe same criteria of cultural analysis to homosexuality. It is condemned inboth the Old and New Testament (Lev 18.22; 20.13; Rom 1.27; 1 Cor 6.9-10; 1 Tim1.9-10), but is this just another example of a culturally relative teaching? Webbattempts to apply the same criteria to all three issues.

Thisnuanced approach has much to commend it. First, it allows for consistency inapplication. I remember teaching at a Bible Study when a man in attendance claimed,“If the Bible was written today, it probably wouldn’t command us to wait until marriageto have sex.” He assumed that sex within the confines of marriage was a culturalvalue of the ancient world, which is completely incorrect. But, to his credithe was trying to read the Bible with cultural awareness. The fact is, as Webbpoints out, “Most of us are oblivious to the culture around us. Like the airthat we breathe, it is invisible and we simply take it for granted” (21). Howdo we discern what parts of the Bible are actually culturally relative and whatparts we simply don’t like because of our own cultural assumptions? Webb’s consistencyis one way to allow ourselves to be culturally aware and still submissive tothe intent of scripture.

Inaddition to consistency, Webb’s approach reads the Bible appropriately as a productof culture. Indeed, “Not only were the authors [of the Bible] influenced bytheir own cultures, but the text itself was transmitted through variouscultural forms, known as genres” (23). The Bible is written by people situatedin specific cultures who, though divinely inspired, could not see outside oftheir cultures. Webb laments, however, “Many Christians, particularly at a popularlevel, read the Bible simply as a flat-surfaced, two-dimensional kind of text.They seek to understand what the words of the text say as if they were spokenin a vacuum” (83). This approach ignores the fact that the Bible did not fallout of the sky. A culturally-aware reading of the text is both historicallydisciplined interpreting the meaning of a text in its original context and intenton allowing the Spirit to speak through the text anew to challenge our own culturalvalues and assumptions.

Tothis end Webb develops 18 criteria for evaluating the cultural components of a passageof scripture. He also categorizes the criteria according to their relationshipto the text of scripture and their persuasiveness. The first category consistsof “persuasive intrascriptural” criteria (criteria 1-5, chpt. 4). The secondcategory describes “moderately persuasive intrascriptural” criteria (criteria6-13, chpt. 5). The third category refers to “inclusive criteria” (criteria14-16, chpt. 6) which refers to theological analogy (does this reflect God’scharacter?), contextual comparison (do other commands in the same context haveenduring cultural significance?) and continuity/discontinuity betweentestaments (is the command consistent in both the Old and New testaments?). The fourth category of criteria is “persuasiveextrascriptural criteria” (criteria 17-18, chpt 7) which refers to pragmaticcomparison (does the command make sense in another culture?) and scientific/socialscientific evidence (does cross-cultural analysis or modern science helpexplain features of this text as cultural relative or enduring?). The next chapteris intriguingly titled, “What if I Am Wrong?” Here Webb weighs the merits ofhis interpretive decisions on the women issue and concludes that while there issome “wiggle room” it is untenable to conclude with either an ultra-patriarchalor feminist view.

Whatare his conclusions on the three major issues? I would encourage anyone interestedin these questions to read Webb’s book to see how he arrives at theseconclusions based on each criteria, but these are the general conclusions:

Slavery: Though theBible does not condemn slavery outright, there is a consistent movement awayfrom its dehumanizing practices in both the OT (Deut 16.10-11; 15.12-18; 31.10-13;Exod 21.20-21; 23.12; Lev 25.39-43) and NT (Philemon; Gal 3.28; 1 Cor 12.13; Col3.11). Culturally, slavery was an assumed institution in the ancient world. Theearly church did not oppose it structurally for the sake of the more urgentneed to preach the gospel (Titus 2.9-10; 1 Tim 6.1). Ultimately, Webb concludesthat slavery was a cultural reality that was not God’s desire.

Women: As we havealready observed, the Bible was written in a patriarchal context. It was acommon cultural assumption that women were not good leaders (cf. Isa 3.12). Still,Webb points out, “On the whole, the biblical material is headed toward anelevation of women in status and rights” (76). He notes that the Bible hasnumerous instances of women being protected, elevated in status or serving inleadership roles that are counter-cultural in their original contexts (i.e. Num27.1-11; 36.1-13; Deut 20.10-14; 22.19;, 29; 24.1-4; Judg 5.8-16; Acts 18.26; Rom16.1-2). This along with numerous other criteria, lead Webb to conclude thatwomen were kept from leadership positions not because of some eternally enduringdifference between men and women but because of cultural realities.

Forexample, in 1 Timothy women are prohibited from teaching in Ephesus in thefirst century (1 Tim 2.11-15). Webb’s RMH attempts to understand why Paul said thisabout women in leadership in that context, and then he applies the principletoday. In this case, Webb thinks Paul is opposed to women serving in teaching leadershiproles at Ephesus because in that culture they lacked education, experience andawareness of broader cultural nuances. Thus, a RMH application of 1 Tim 2.11-15is that people who are easily deceived regardless of gender should not teach.

Homosexuality: Unlike slaveryand women’s status/leadership, the Bible demonstrates a consistently negativeview of homosexuality. In this discussion, it is important to define “homosexuality”because some interpreters claim that what the Bible actually condemns is rapeor the ancient practice of pederasty – a culturally accepted practice in the ancientworld (particularly Greece and Rome) wherein older men would have sex with youngerboys. Webb argues that consensual homosexuality was practiced in the ancientworld and is included in the negative commands in the Bible (39, 81-82, 156,250). Webb maintains that homosexuality is consistently condemned in the Bible whilethe wider culture of the ancient world accepted the practice. In this instancethe counter-cultural movement of the Bible is to condemn homosexual practice. Forthis and other reasons, therefore, Webb thinks injunctions against homosexualityare enduring commands not culturally relative. Webb also suggests, however,that “a redemptive focus to our lives means that we love homosexual people asourselves. It means that we treat them with the same kind of grace, respect,care and compassion with which we want to be treated” (40).

Evenif you do not agree with his conclusions, William Webb has given a gift to thechurch by creating a series of interpretive criteria whereby we can consistentlyinterpret and apply the Bible in all its cultural nuances. The book is anattempt to provide, “a tool for the application process in hermeneutics.” WhileWebb has focused on only three very timely issues, he suggests “the variouscriteria may be used as a grid to explore any aspect of Scripture where onemight suspect or question the impact of culture” (246). Indeed, this is afascinating prospect that I thought ought to be explored further. How mightWebb’s criteria work out in relation to other issues?

Webbprovides the answer as it relates to corporal punishment in his latest book,published just this year CorporalPunishment in the Bible: A Redemptive-Movement Hermeneutic for Troubling Texts.I have received a copy for review from the good people at IVP and as a newparent I’m glad to have it. The book is designed, like Slaves, Women and Homosexuals to be an exercise in cultural hermeneutics.In this instance Webb touches on a culturally relevant parenting issue. Whatdoes the Bible say about spanking? Having read the introduction and skimmedlarge portions of the book, Webb’s recent work looks to be a strong sequel. Whetheryou agree with his conclusions or not, I think Webb is exactly right to createa consistent hermeneutic to address the very different cultural realities in theBible and how the text can still speak today.

Exciting Fall

2011-09-23T19:50:00.000-06:00

It’sthe fall again, my favorite time of year. As a sports fan fall is exciting because football is available for mass consumption every weekend at every level, from high school boys to professional athletes. Fall is a fantastic seasonbecause of the colors, smells and temperatures. Summer heat gives way to breezysweat-shirt weather. The rich greenleaves yield to bright yellows, brilliant reds and explosive oranges. The scent of burning charcoalbriquettes wafts from tailgates and backyards. The reason I love fall most isthe beginning of a new academic year. New students are beginning the journey.Seasoned students are starting the routine again. It’s just a wonderful time tobe studying.

Thisfall I embark on my newest and most challenging research project yet – mythesis. For the sake of what I hope this project will become, I will only saythat it concerns Paul’s use of the OT in Romans, and it’s not focused on Romans1-4 or 9-11. Intrigued? I hope so.

Animportant part of producing a good thesis is having helpful readers to provideadvice, critique and encouragement at appropriate times. Despite the untimelyloss of my primary advisor in Dr. Robert Lowery to a lengthy battle withcancer, I am thankful to have Dr. Anthony Le Donne as my primary reader.Anthony is an accomplished scholar who specializes in Jesus studies and SecondTemple Judaism. His PhD dissertation, published as TheHistoriographical Jesus, focused on social memory and historiographyapplied to historical Jesus studies, which he wrote under James Dunn and JohnM. G. Barclay at Durham. His more recent book, HistoricalJesus: What we can know and how we can know it?, is a popular-levelaccount of what social memory can teach us about Jesus. Needless to say,Anthony is an accomplished scholar.

Anthonyalso happens to be an incredibly generous person. He has been an invaluableguide in navigating this research project already. After challenging me toproduce a “history of interpretation” on my passage, Anthony encouraged me todo an inductive study of Romans and write a paper articulating how my passagefits and functions in Romans. I’m in the middle of this project now and it hasbeen an extremely helpful exercise. Even if the entirety of the final productdoes not end up in my thesis it has been crucial to solidify my own thoughts.

Mysecond reader, who just recently agreed, is Dr. Mark Reasoner. I do not knowDr. Reasoner personally, and had only passing familiarity with his work untilhe agreed to participate in this project. Dr. Reasoner wrote his dissertation TheStrong and the Weak on Rom 14.1-15.13 under H. D. Betz at University ofChicago and it was published in the prestigious Society for New TestamentStudies Monograph Series through Cambridge. His most recent book, Romansin Full Circle provides a history of interpretation on some major textsin Romans. I am excited for our first face-to-face meeting in October.

Iam beyond grateful to have these two fine scholars interested in my project. Ionly pray that my collected work, offered for their critique would be acceptable.Perhaps by God’s will we might be refreshed together in Paul’s master epistle andGod’s grace.

PhD Dissertation on Paul's use of OT Available for Free

2011-09-13T18:20:00.000-06:00

Pastor-scholar Brian J. Abasciano has done a great service and made his PhD dissertation available online, for free no less. It baffles me that PhD dissertations are so difficult to access when they ought to represent some of the best work available. Of course, I do realize that these projects are intended to be converted into books, which Abasciano did. In fact, you can purchase the published version from the publisher for a mere $ 170! Or, you could check out Abasciano's expanded work for free.

Basically, Abasciano follows Richard Hay's argument in Echoes of Scripture that when Paul cites or alludes to an OT passage he his drawing from the larger context of the passage. He also follows Hays's criteria for hearing echoes of Scripture, though he does make expansions to it. In sum, he develops a very clear method for approaching Paul's use of the OT. Abasciano is currently working to expand his thesis to cover all of Romans 9-11, which he hopes will result in the most in depth treatment of the text anywhere.

I'm very much looking forward to interacting with Abasciano's dissertation as I develop my thesis on Romans and as he publishes his lengthy treatment. Until then curious readers should check out a review of Abasciano's dissertation (the published version) by Steve Moyise here. Both Abasciano and Moyise are scholars who take Paul seriously as he interacts with the OT.

The Cross and 9/11

2011-09-10T13:51:00.000-06:00

One of my favorite preachers, Methodist Bishop WillWillimon offers sobering reflection on his reaction to the terrorist attacks ofSeptember 11, 2001:

On9/11 I thought, For the most powerful, militarized nation in the world alsoto think of itself as an innocent victim is deadly. Itwas a rare prophetic moment for me, considering Presidents Bush and Obama havespent billions asking the military to rectify the crime of a small band oflawless individuals, destroying a couple of nations who had little to do withit, in the costliest, longest series of wars in the history of the UnitedStates.

Thesilence of most Christians and the giddy enthusiasm of a few, as well as theubiquity of flags and patriotic extravaganzas in allegedly evangelicalchurches, says to me that American Christians may look back upon our responseto 9/11 as our greatest Christological defeat. It was shattering to admit thatwe had lost the theological means to distinguish between the United States andthe kingdom of God. The criminals who perpetrated 9/11 and the flag-wavingboosters of our almost exclusively martial response were of one mind: that thenonviolent way of Jesus is stupid. All of us preachers share the shame; whenour people felt very vulnerable, they reached for the flag, not the Cross.

September11 has changed me. I'm going to preach as never before about Christ crucifiedas the answer to the question of what's wrong with the world. I have alsoresolved to relentlessly reiterate from the pulpit that the worst day inhistory was not a Tuesday in New York, but a Friday in Jerusalem when aconsortium of clergy and politicians colluded to run the world on our own termsby crucifying God's own Son. (From ChristianityToday via ScotMcKnight)

My hope is that tomorrow preachers will follow Paul's example,

And when I came to you brothers, I did not come with rhetorical flair or wisdom while proclaiming the mystery of God. For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, the crucified one. I came in weakness, fear and excessive trembling. My speech and my message were not persuasive wise words, but a demonstration of the Spirit and power, so that your faith might not be in wisdom of men but in the power of God.

Though we do speak wisdom among the mature. It's not a wisdom of this age nor of the rulers of this age (those being brought to nothing). No, we speak the wisdom of God shrouded in mystery, which God predestined before the ages for our glory. It is the wisdom that none of the rulers of this age knew. For if they had known, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory (1 Corinthians 2.1-8 my translation)

Whatever your political leanings or national affiliation, please remember that tomorrow is about the Crucified King. Any message that tells a story of revenge or justifies killing people in the name of "justice" is just perpetuating the same wisdom of this age. That's not the wisdom of God. The wisdom of God is a Crucified King.

What does a Pastor do?

2011-09-03T13:06:00.000-06:00

I have no idea.

Well, that’s not entirelytrue. I do have an idea, but that’s about it. Some might think it rather oddthat I am a pastor and yet I have only a rough sketch of what it means to be a pastor. Indeed, most of what I knowabout this calling has come from piecing together what I see at work in Scripture,my personal experience with my former pastors and congregations, and the exploratorywriting of fellow pastors. Eugene Peterson has been a particularly helpfulguide for me. His book Working the Angleshas been seminal in shaping my idea of what a pastor does. His most recentbook, however, The Pastor: A Memoiris a different sort than he’s written before. Here, the premier pastoral theologianof our time tells his story as “Pastor Pete.” It is a warm and poetic personal accountof his journey to becoming a pastor and what such work entails. It is just onepastor’s story, but it is a story that ought to give shape to how the contemporarychurch defines the idea of “Pastor.”

Eugene begins with his experienceof pastors as people who ran churches but were rarely interested in God. Basedon this experience he never thought he would be a pastor. He candidly describeshis perception of the pastors, “For me, being a pastor was what you did whenyou couldn’t do anything else, one step up the ladder from being unemployed” (81).So, he pursued academics. Yet something happened to him along the way. Hediscovered Scripture. Despite growing up in a home that was saturated with the Biblein daily reading and memorization he had never really encountered the livingword. He describes his young perception of Scripture, “More often than not itwas a field of contention, providing material for truths that were contested bywarring factions. Or it was reduced to rules and principles that promised tokeep me out of moral potholes. Or, and this was worst of all, it was flattenedinto clichés and slogans and sentimental godtalk intended to inspire andmotivate” (84-85). Yet as he sat in a seminary classroom Scripture came alive forthe first time.

Thankfully, his encounterwith the word was not limited to the seminary classroom. Despite his pursuit ofacademics, his seminary required church field work. Though he asked the deanfor an exemption since he didn’t plan to be a pastor, he was told that therequirement was not about “vocational training.” Rather, it was intended tokeep students grounded “using ordinary language with ordinary people.” As the deanput it, “Unrelieved intellectual work, especially theological intellectual work,can shrivel your soul” (85). He discovered the deep preaching of George Buttrickand Harry Emerson Fosdick. In the process, he was introduced to the writing ofKarl Barth in conversation with a non-practicing Jew. Barth just happens to be thequintessential pastor’s theologian. In Barth, the young academic discovered abook that fit Kafka’s criteria, “If the book we are reading does not wake us,as with a fist hammering on our skull, why then do we read it?…A book must belike an ice-axe to break the sea frozen inside us” (90). Buttrick, Barth andthe Bible were hammering on Peterson’s skull and breaking the frozen sea insideof him.

Despite his new perception ofscripture and theology, Peterson was still committed to academic biblical studyuntil he met his wife, Jan. As he describes it, “I was going to write books forpeople I would never meet. She was going to cook meals for family and friends,and for strangers who would be strangers no longer” (98). Peterson completedhis PhD (all but dissertation) under the premier scholar of Hebrew Bible at thetime, W. F. Albright at Johns Hopkins. He then returned to his former seminaryto teach. Then, while reading Scripture in the sharp contrasts of congregation andclassroom his perspective changed again. As he describes it,

Iwas beginning to feel that the classroom was too easy. The room was too smalland orderly to do justice to the largeness of the subject matter—theextravagance of the beauty, the exuberance of the language. Too much wasexcluded from the classroom—too much life, too much of the world, too much ofthe students, the complexities of relationships, the intricacy of emotions. Theclassroom was too tidy. I missed the texture of the weather, the smell ofcooking, the jostle of shoulders and elbows on a crowded sidewalk. [. . .] Salvationwas not a reference traced down in a concordance. Every act of sin and everyevent of salvation involved a personal name in a grammar of imperatives andpromises in a messy community of friends and neighbors, parents andgrandparents, none of whom fit a stereotype. (21-22)

Imagine that. Scripture came alivein a classroom, but ultimately moved into the realities of everyday life. How sadit is when an artificial wedge is driven between study and street, whenlexicons are abandoned in favor of “practical application.” Inversely, how incompletestudying Scripture is apart from the gritty realities of life intersecting witha glorious and gracious God.

The word “Pastor” is notfound in the Bible, and yet it describes a fitting role of the church leader asa servant-shepherd. Peterson’s tale of what a Pastor ought to be is a compellingplea for an endangered species. As he sees it, “Men and women who are pastorsin America today find that they have entered into a way of life that is inruins. The vocation of pastor has been replaced by the strategies of religiousentrepreneurs with business plans.” (4). After an unlikely road to his vocationas a Pastor, Peterson began a church plant in suburban Maryland. So, he readthe most recent books on ministry and discovered handbooks for “running anecclesiastical business.” He admits, “I was astonished to learn in one of thesebest-selling books that the size of my church parking lot had far more to dowith how things fared in my congregation than my choice of texts in preaching”(112). He was even advised after the construction of a building, when congregationalenthusiasm waned, that he should “start another building program” to rally thetroops (202). Peterson knew they didn’t need another building, but this was thesubstitute for real discipleship – working harder at growing immature churches.Instead, Peterson spent six years toiling hard ground to cultivate spiritual growththat would foster real discipleship.

Peterson correctly observesthat one of the major problems with pastoral work today is how it has been objectifiedand systematized into something manageable. He protests, “We cannot make anobject of God: God is not a thing to be named. We cannot turn God into an idea:God is not a concept to be discussed. We cannot use God for making or doing:God is not a power to be harnessed” (186). Pastoral work is a profound mystery becauseit is concerned first and foremost with God and his activity among people. Thereis no sure-fire method to connect people with the living God apart from God’sinvolvement. Yet churches routinely employ strategies and plans to meet goalsand build programs. All the while thinking God is pleased with their improvementon his otherwise ineffective public relations campaign. In the process we tradethe mystery of God for the convenience of something measurable. We pull out ouroars and row to get things done, rather than putting up sails and waiting forthe wind of the Spirit to blow.

Peterson’s lively tale cannotbe dismissed as a harangue against big churches. Nor is he opposed to programs.He describes his own logic in implementing home-based “covenant groups” as ameans to deepen relationships with fellow believers and listen to God inScripture and prayer (256). His problem is not with creating programs, but withmeasuring a church in terms of its programs. “A program defines people in termsof what they do, not who they are. The more program, the less person. [. . .] Treatingsouls for whom Christ died as numbers or projects or resources seemed to mesomething like a sin against the Holy Spirit” (255). Pastors are concerned withGod and people not getting things done.

Right from the outset,Peterson is careful to avoid falling prey to his own critique. He is adamantthat there is no clear plan to becoming a pastor. “I want to insist that there isno blueprint on file for becoming a pastor. [. . .] I have found that it is amost context-specific way of life: the pastor’s emotional life, family life,experience in the faith, and aptitudes worked out in an actual congregation inthe neighborhood in which she or he lives—these people just as they are, inthis place. No copying. No trying to be successful. The ways in which thevocation of pastor is conceived, develops, and comes to birth is unique to eachpastor” (5-6). Thus, Peterson tells his specific story. He provides a reminiscenceof what God did in his life as a pastor. It is a story lived out of the firmconviction that the God of the Bible is still very much at work. As he saw it,his vocation as a pastor was to pay attention and call those placed in his careto the work and wonder of God. That’s his idea of a pastor.

I have an idea of what itmeans to be a pastor, but that’s all.

How Educated was Paul?

2011-08-27T09:48:00.000-06:00

Theintroduction to my most recent paper:

At least sincethe third century Christians have been fighting the accusation of anti-intellectualism.Celsus described Christian doctrine as so “vulgar” that it was only able tosway the ignorant (Against Celsus,1.27). He accuses the Christians of preying on the least educated people in theancient world, “children” and “certain women as ignorant as themselves” (3.55).Origen admits that the apostles were not educated, but meets this accusationwith an argument from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians,

It was by help of a divine power thatthese men taught Christianity, and succeeded in leading others to embrace theword of God. For it was not any power of speaking, or any orderly arrangementof their message, according to the arts of Grecian dialectics or rhetoric,which was in them the effective cause of converting their hearers.[1]

Origen, theChristian intellectual force of the third century, responds toanti-intellectual critiques with an argument from Paul. It is widely known thatOrigen was extremely well educated, but what of Paul?

The question ofPaul’s education has been broached many times with varying conclusions. AdolfDeissmann was convinced Paul was “not one of the literary upper classes, butcame from the unliterary lower classes and remained one of them.”[2]In comparison with Philo, Mary Andrews argued, “Paul cannot be rated among theintellectuals of his day.”[3]In contrast, E. A. Judge argued that while the degree of Paul’s education is “tantalisinglyunclear [sic.]” he certainly had agood measure of it, because “he reacted powerfully against the perversion ofhuman relations which he saw inculcated by the ideals of higher education.”[4]Most recently, Paul’s education has been evaluated fairly high in order toaccount for his use of the OT.[5]Despite these studies there is not much of a consensus regarding Paul’seducational background.

This state of affairs issomewhat expected in light of the fact that Paul never directly speaks of hiseducation. Even on the rare occasion when he does mention his personalbackground or credentials (Gal 1.13-14; 2 Cor 11.22-23; Phil 3.4-7; cf. Rom11.1), he is silent about schooling. If anything, Paul downplays education as arelevant factor to his work. He rejects worldly wisdom (1 Cor 2.1-4) anddescribed himself as a “rank amateur when it came to rhetoric.”[6]Furthermore, he is adamant that his gospel is a direct revelation of God andnot based on any human teaching or wisdom (1 Cor 2.6-13; cf. Gal 1.1, 11-12,16). Thus, it would have been counterproductive for Paul to have flaunted hiseducational credentials. Analysis of Paul’s education thus requires carefulreconstruction.

[1] The Ante-Nicene Fathers Vol. IV : Translations of the writings of theFathers down to A.D. 325, eds. Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson andArthur C. Coxe (Oak Harbor, CA: Logos Research Systems, 1997) 424.

[2] Paul: A Study in Social and Religious History, trans. William E.Wilson (New York: Harper &amp;amp; Brothers, [1912] 1957) 48.

[3] Mary E. Andrews, “Paul, Philo,and the Intellectuals,” JBL 53 no. 2(1934): 166.

[4] E. A. Judge, “The ReactionAgainst Classical Education in the New Testament,” ERT 9 no. 2 (1985): 170 and 174 respectively.

[5] Stanley Porter and Andrew W.Pitts, “Paul’s Bible, His Education and his Access to the Scriptures ofIsrael,” JGRChJ 5 (2008): 9-40.

[6] Ronald F. Hock, “Paul andGreco-Roman Education,” Paul and theGreco-Roman World: A Handbook, ed. J. Paul Sampley (Harrisburg, PA: TrinityPress International, 2003) 198 citing 2 Cor 11.6.

Rethinking Ancient Reading

2011-08-04T08:05:00.000-06:00

Pieter J. J. Botha wrote afascinating article exploring the vast difference between contemporary andancient reading practices. The article, “New Testament Texts in the Context ofReading Practices of the Roman Period: The Role of Memory and Performance,”published in Scriptura vol. 90 (2005)pgs 621-40, is well worth a read. I just wanted to note some highlights here.

Botha begins by painting the pictureof a contemporary reading scene:

“Onepulls the chair up to the desk and arranges some of the books and other papersalready lying there. Then, glasses are picked up form a preferred place,cleaned [. . .], perched on the nose and steadied behind the ears to gaze atthe now lucid pages. Adjustment of the study-lamp and little shifts of thechair and arms to reduce the shadows on the book follow. On reaches for apencil or highlighter, and the soft sounds of scratching in the margins of bookor notebook become audible.” (621)

This is the posture of many acontemporary reader – seated alone at a desk, wrapped in silence, bathed in incandescentlight and aided by glasses. Botha observes how this picture is completely anachronisticin the first century. There was no electricity for light, no eye-glasses, nodesks, and rarely was reading a silent solitary activity.

In regard to the textsthemselves, Botha observes how unfriendly they are to modern reading practices.The dominant textual format—the scroll—was unwieldy and cumbersome. The visuallandscape of the ancient text looks overwhelmingly cluttered to the modern eyewith no paragraph divisions, punctuation or even spacing between words! “TheGreco-Roman text was constructed with almost no aids to the reader, whose taskit was to divide the lines correctly into words and sentences” (627).

It is not surprising, then,that ancient readers were expected to know the text before they read. Considerthe orator Quintilian’s recommendation for reading,

“Thereis much that can only be taught by practice, as for instance when the boy shouldtake breath, at what point he should introduce a pause into a line, where thesense ends or begins, when the voice should be raised or lowered, whatmodulation should be given to each phrase [. . .] I will give but one goldenrule: To do all these things, he must understand what he reads.” (Inst. Orat. 1.8.1-2; Botha, 628).

Quintilian suggests practicinga text to the point that the reader knows his “reading” beforehand. Botha(drawing from J. Svenbro) suggests a fascinating illustration. He comparesancient reading practices to moderns “reading” sheet music. It is notimpossible to “read” music in silence, but the most common way of doing so isby playing it on a piano to know what it sounds like (629).

Even the act of writing wasdrastically different in the ancient world. There were no editors, and oftenlengthy compositions were dictated in one sitting from memory. Pliny evenmentions his preference for working out his texts in his head before dictatingthem to his scribe (Epist. 9.36). Orconsider Cicero’s description of how the “speaking mind will forsee what is tofollow” when delivering a speech (DeOratore 44.150; Botha, 633). These writing practices describe a verydifferent literary concept that is far more oral than visual.

These ancient reading andwriting practices ought to invite us to rethink ancient texts. This is especiallyso of NT texts which point to oral delivery as the primary means of distribution(1 Thess 5.27; Col 4.16; Rev 1.3). With these oral texts we must not fall intocontemporary habits of “seeing” texts, but must have ears to hear.

Paul and Ancient Letter Writing

2011-07-08T08:52:00.001-06:00

Letters have had a hugeimpact on my life. At the beginning of the summer of 2004 I met a girl inTexas. Though I had recently sworn off relationships, I was enchanted. Unfortunatelyfor our blooming romance, my summer was committed to traveling around thecountry. For the next eight weeks I moved every Saturday shuffling from one summercamp to another. These camps lacked the technologies of modern communication. Ihad no cell service or wireless internet. In fact, I didn’t own a cell phoneand high speed internet was still a novelty, certainly not available in the rural areaswhere I worked. Landlines charged exorbitant rates for long distance calls andI was a poor college student. Still, I could not risk having no contact for twomonths. So, I wrote letters . . . lots of letters. She wrote me letters too. Itturned into quite a collection. It also built the foundation for a relationshipthat would eventually become a marriage.

That summer was probably theonly time in my life I worried about the aesthetics of my handwriting. As Ireflect on that process, it seems like ancient technology. Since then, I havenot penned a single letter. Anymore, I never write anything by hand except theoccasional illegible signature. Contemporaryliterate communication is now conducted through almost entirely electronicmeans. It is fascinating to think about how drastically different communicationis today than it was just seven years ago. To consider the literary communicationof the early Christians is to step back almost 2,000 years. As one would expect,the technologies and conventions involved were even more unlike today.

Unfortunately, we often payno attention to letter writing practices in the ancient world. How did peoplecommunicate across vast distances without phones or telegraphs? Letters ofcourse! But how did most people communicate with letters when the vast majorityof the population was illiterate? Interpreters usually give no thought to thetechnology and conventions involved in ancient letter writing. As a result, wemistakenly import our cultural and technological assumptions into Paul’sletters. We picture the Apostle sitting at a desk scratching on paper insilence, deep in theological thought. Then, Paul rushes the letter to the nearbypost-office and the process is complete. E. Randolph Richards in Paul and First-Century Letter Writing: Secretaries, Composition and Collection provides a fascinating analysis ofthe historical processes involved in ancient letter writing. Throughout his analysisRichard illuminates Paul’s letter writing practices. The result is a uniquelyinsightful picture of Paul’s letters were written and thus ought to beinterpreted.

After a brief introduction tothe topic of ancient letter writing, Richards spends his first chapter showing howmodern portraits of Paul, both popular and academic, are rife with anachronisticassumptions. Paul’s letters were not lone productions scratched out in silenceas Paul conjured them in his head, only to be mailed the next day. The rest ofthe book is spent analyzing ancient letter production from the evidence of Cicero,papyrus letter collections and occasionally Seneca. Richards’ book isthoroughly documented and provides explanations that are based on historicalprecedent rather than modern assumptions.

Summary of Chapters:

Chapter2: Richards places Paul in the larger context of the first century letterwriting. Most uniquely, he suggests that Paul’s “coauthors” must be taken intoaccount as active participants in producing the letters.
Chapter3: How does one write without pens? Here Richards provides an overview of the nutsand bolts of letter composition describing the writing materials, rough draftsand final products.
Chapter4: Richards describes the involvement of secretaries (paid letter writers) whowere an almost universal part of ancient letter writing process. Here Richardsshows that there was a spectrum of influence the secretary would wield rangingfrom little more than transcriber to full blown composer. “The role played bythe secretary depended on how much control the author exercised at thatparticular moment in that particular letter, even shifting roles with the sameletter” (80).
Chapter5: Here Richards explores Paul’s use of secretaries. The letters explicitlymention secretaries six times (Rom 16.22; 1 Cor 16.21; Gal 6.11; Col 4.18; 2 Thess3.17; Phlm 19). For the most part, Richards considers Paul’s use secretaries tobe in the middle of the spectrum of influence as more than a transcribers butultimately submissive to Paul’s literary will.
Chapter6: Richards outlines criteria for identifying “interpolations” or preformedmaterial in Paul’s letters. Heconcludes, “Even though this material was non-Pauline, it was not un-Pauline orpost-Pauline. The material was inserted during the letter’s composition andthus had Paul’s ultimate authorization” (108).
Chapter7: Having identified interpolations, Richards provides explanations for howvarious preformed material was woven into Paul’s letters to produce a completeletter. “The arguments went were [Paul] intended them to go; the conclusions werewhat Paul intended to reach. Nevertheless, the smaller, quieter voices ofothers can still be heard in his letters” (120).
Chapter8: Richards suggests that Paul’s letters reflect neither the top nor bottom ofthe literary scale of ancient letters. Rather, “Paul’s fall closer to themiddle of the spectrum and reflect a Jewish subculture” (140).
Chapter9: Any description of Paul’s epistolary style must recognize the length of timeinvolved in letter composition, the use of secretaries and the presence of coauthors.Richards even suggests that stylistic statistical analysis indicates the kindof diversity one would expect in thirteen letters written in thesecircumstances.
Chapter10: Describes the process (in terms of time and cost) by which letters were preparedto be dispatched. Richards argues that at least two final copies of each letterwere made. One was sent to the recipients and the other kept for Paul’s personalrecords. There is an interesting chart calculating the comparative cost ofproducing these letters (169). As a conservative estimate, Richards thinks Paul’slongest letter (Romans) would have costs upwards of $ 2,200 and his shortest (Philemon)around $ 100. “Weeks, if not months, of work likely went into a letter” inaddition to “considerable expense” (169).
Chapter11: Once completed, ancient letters had to be sent. Unfortunately, there was no publicly accessible postal system in the Roman Empire. As a result, letterswere sent through happenstance travelers who were already going to the intendeddestination or were sent privately at the expense of the sender.
Chapter12: Travel in the ancient world was far from convenient by modern standards.Still, letters were carried. Depending on the time of year and difficulties ofthe journey a letter could take just a few days or multiple weeks to bedelivered.
Chapter13: Turning to Paul’s specific practices with letter carriers, Richards thinks,“Paul most likely used happenstance carriers to deliver his early letters,Galatians and 1-2 Thessalonians” (200), but then smartened up and began using membersof his team as private letter carriers to ensure safe delivery as well as serveas interpretive guides (cf. 209).
Chapter14: The question of how Paul’s letters came together into a collection issomething of a mystery. Richards suggests, based on the common practice ofauthors keeping records of their letters, that Paul himself was responsible forcollecting all his letters in a notebook format. These notebooks were posthumouslycirculated as a collection and eventually canonized.
Chapter15: After explaining the complexity of the ancient letter writing process, andthe multiple stages of human activity, Richards probes the question ofinspiration. He wonders, at what stage(s) of the process was Paul “inspired” bythe Spirit?

This is a book that deserves muchattention, but I fear it will not gain the notoriety it deserves. Paul and First-Century Letter Writing isnotable for at least three reasons. First and foremost, Richards’ arguments arehistorically grounded at every turn. With the disciplined imagination of ahistorian Richards allows the historical context to fill in the picture of Paul’sletter writing rather than pontificate based on modern assumptions. Whether you agree with his conclusions or not,Richards provides a well-researched argument.

Second, and this is all too rarein much of contemporary Pauline studies, Richards appreciates Paul’s role as a missionary-pastorworking with a team. Richards brings years of personal missionary experience ina culture more similar to Paul’s world than the contemporary West. He providesnumerous illustrations that help make sense of cultural differences andmissionary dynamics.

Third, this book is actually readable to people who arenot consumed with NT studies. Often when I talk about my reading with my wifeshe can’t wait to change the subject. With this book, however, she was keenly interestedto hear about Richards’ insights. Why might such a triumph of scholarship wallowin obscurity? It lacks a widely published name or a weighty endorsement. Also, the title seems boring. Please don’tlet this fine book be ignored. Take and read.

Book Learn’n in the Ancient World (Part 1)

2011-06-30T09:15:00.000-06:00

As anyone who has ever sat through a small group Bible study knows, books don’t read themselves. Readers carry with them certain assumptions and expectations about what they are reading. As a result, many small groups “study” the Bible by reading a specific book separately and then gathering to talk about how it “spoke to them” individually. It is sometimes surprising how differently the text speaks to different readers. Other small groups rely on a “teacher” to tell them how the text should speak to them. Increasingly, these teachers come in the form of a commenting author or an accompanied video. Occasionally the “teacher” will actually sit in the group and describe the meaning of the text. I’m not going to pontificate on the relative merits of these various ways of reading the Bible in a group. I only bring up the setting as a window into the way reading commenced in the ancient world.

Today books are conveniently organized in stores and libraries to tell us what we should expect from them. Individuals purchase or check out these books and consume them privately. They know what to expect at the time of purchase because the books are labeled accordingly. If you want to spend time in a magical land you read fantasy. If you want to learn about a person you purchase their biography. If you want to read an interesting story you check out something from the literature section. In short, modern books are produced to be read by a large audience of literate individuals who rarely ever meet one another. In sharp contrast, ancient books were produced and used in a vastly different context.

It is to the context of reading in the ancient world that H. Gregory Snyder turns his attention in his fascinating book, Teachers and Texts in the Ancient World: Philosophers, Jews and Christians. Snyder begins by observing that texts were chiefly used as “part of the everyday business of teaching and learning” (1). Since reading in the ancient world was mostly a social activity, texts required “performances” and presumed and audience (2). Usually, texts were performed by a teacher and the audience was composed of students. Teachers, therefore, often functioned as “text brokers” (3). For most people, these text-brokers were the only available means of accessing texts. Snyder focuses his study on how various groups (or schools) used their respective texts. He is particularly interested in “text-centered” groups and how they “study, maintain, transmit a discrete set of authoritative texts” (5). Snyder’s goal is to understand the reciprocal role of teachers and texts in the ancient world.

To this end, Snyder analyzes five distinct groups and their use of texts. He limits his analysis, for the most part, to the period from the first century BCE to the second century CE. In chapter one Snyder describes his method of evaluation, which is geared toward comparison, and then applies it to how Stoics used their texts. Chapter two evaluates how Epicureans handled their written texts. Chapter three is concerned with Aristotelians (or Peripatetics). Chapter four evaluates the textual practices of Platonists. Finally, in chapter five, Snyder focuses on Jewish and Christian textual practices. Part one of the review will focus on the first four chapters. Next time I will address his treatment of textual practices among Jews and Christians.

Snyder describes his comparative method at work in each chapter,

I will consider whether the group(s) in question bothered to collect and organize their School texts, and whether they sought to maintain them through textual criticism. Then, we shall ask about the practice of commentary. Following this, we will explore more invasive procedures that involve ‘re-presenting’ the texts: altering them either by epitomizing, paraphrasing, or expanding. Finally, we shall pursue the question of use, exploring any available testimony that promises to shed light on the way that members of these groups used books in their gatherings. (14)

In the subsequent chapters he follows this method quite closely and with some intriguing results.

Stoics, though “famous for their literary production” (14) exhibit little evidence that they had a recognized body of authoritative works. They do not engage in textual criticism, write commentaries or quote their founders with reverence. Still, Stoics used and produced a significant number of texts. Indeed, we learn from Epictetus that there was a specific reading method used in classroom textual performances that took four stages (22-27). First, a basic reading of a selected text would be recited by the teacher or perhaps an advanced student. Second, an exegesis that defined and interpreted the terms of the passage would given by either the teacher or students. Third, the logic of the argument would be scrutinized. Fourth, the text would be evaluated by testing another hypothesis by its logic. The argument might be extended or limited for the purpose of equipping the student to evaluate how to use texts. Snyder also looks at the literary practices of Seneca which are instructive as a teacher who instructed from a distance through texts. In general, Stoics were committed to textual performances in classrooms, but the goal was not competence in literature but development of reason and character. Thus, they did not venerate texts as much more than tools for development.

In sharp contrast to Stoics, Epicureans “show a remarkable reverence for their founder-figures and the written texts the founders left behind” (45). They labored in textual criticism to have an accurate rendering of Epicurus’ literature (46-53). Epicureans also produced epitomes – shortened versions of original texts or bodies of thought (53-56). These epitomes would provide access to Epicurean thought without the difficult work of reading all of Epicurus’ books. Epicureans even developed a reputation of being lazy or unskilled with books (57-61). This was probably prompted by the fact that Epicureanism was fairly popular among uneducated people. Furthermore, Epicureans were not primarily concerned with Epicurus’ texts per se but rather with his doctrine. For Epicureans, “Texts were vehicles, valuable for what they carried, but not venerated in and of themselves” (65).

Aristotelians were rigorously devoted to their books. Snyder suggests that the primary means of instruction among Aristotelians was continuous reading peppered with comments by the teacher (67). The history of Aristotle works is a bit mysterious. It seems that the texts were lost or significantly damaged and his students set about to recover them (67-69). Thus, Aristotelians often engaged in text critical issues and the need to organize Aristotle’s massive body of writing. The most characteristic form of literary production among Aristotelians was commentary. There were two types of commentary (75). The first commentary type was a continuous comment form following the basic structure of the source text. The second type of commentary was devoted to explaining only selected passages from one or more books. These commentaries seem to indicate that educational practices were typically focused on interpreting Aristotle’s writings. Thus, Aristotelians were the most bookish of the philosophical schools.

Plato’s writings were known for being eloquent and thus attracted an audience beyond the typical student of philosophy. As a result, numerous secondary works were produced to provide access to Plato among those without formal philosophical training. This also produced debate about how the dialogues should be ordered and which dialogues were authentic (94-99). Though less devoted than the Aristotelians, Platonists produced numerous commentaries that were usually focused on only portions of the dialogues. Among this diverse group practices differed, but it seems a large body of secondary literature was produced for classroom use as one way of accessing the wisdom of the dialogues which were unwieldy for classroom teaching. Platonists were used books, but it seems they like their preferred oral debate.

Each of the first four chapters was an enlightening foray into ancient reading practices, but I must admit it was quite outside my area of expertise. I have nothing in the way of critique to suggest in regard to Snyder’s reading of these texts. I will say, however, that after reflection it seems a bit odd to compare the reading practices among elite schools to the literary practices among Jews and Christians. Snyder addresses this objection in his introduction (8-9). He tempers the criticism by pointing out that “not all members of the various philosophical Schools were uniformly wealthy” (8; cf. esp. Epicureans) and conversely that some Jews (i.e. Philo) and Christians were quite wealthy. So since Snyder’s goal is to compare their use of texts, he finds the comparison quite helpful. This is fine goal, but the differences are perhaps more pronounced than he lets on.

Consider for example, the fact that each of these philosophical schools began in the third century BC. As a burgeoning movement, it is difficult to compare the practices of Christians to schools established hundreds of years earlier. In regard to Jews, Israel’s sacred texts were tied with ethnic and social identity in a way that these schools were not. Perhaps in its more academic forms Christianity and Judaism might be compared to these groups, but as a whole it seems to me that the burgeoning Christian movement has less similarity to these schools than this study might suggest. This is not to say that the comparison is not valuable, but only to recognize that early Christians and Jews did not think of their identity in the same way as these philosophical schools.

Reading the Old Testament with Faith

2011-06-23T20:19:00.002-06:00

Have you ever agreed with an atheist? I know I have. If I’m honest, I can resonate a bit with Richard Dawkins’s reading of the OT,

The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control-freak; a vindictive bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynist, a homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully (The God Delusion, 1).

While I have never been so angry about it, I can certainly identify with Dawkins’s atheist assessment. Perhaps after reading about the death of Uzzah (2 Sam 6.1-8) or the divinely sanctioned slaughter of the Canaanites (Josh 6.21; 10.40; 11.12-15), you have questioned the character of God? Maybe your view of God as described in the OT is a distant, sexist, legalistic deity?

Most Christians never vocalize these questions and just turn the page to get to the stories they can more easily stomach. Or, confused believers just skip past the OT altogether and get right to Jesus. I would venture to say that if you’ve never questioned the character of God as seen in these and other troubling OT texts you’ve never taken them seriously. After reading certain parts of the OT it is difficult to avoid the thought that the character of God portrayed there is not the kind of God worth worshiping. Instead, you might easily conclude he’s actually the kind of god you would like to avoid altogether. It is to precisely these troubling texts that David T. Lamb directs his provocatively titled recent book, God Behaving Badly: Is the God of the Old Testament Angry, Sexist and Racist?

Lamb’s answer to these troubling texts is to read them with a hermeneutic of trust. Before condemning problem passages, Lamb wants to understand them. His method is threefold. First, he wants to ask why. What reason might there be for God to be angry or to issue a command for slaughter? Second, he suggests reading these passages in context in order to better understand God’s motives. Third, and this is in my opinion a nebulous method, he suggests that readers should, “have reasonable expectations” (42). The only clarity he gives to “reasonable expectations” is, “You won’t be able to resolve all problems.” Elsewhere, Lamb emphasizes that the OT was “culturally engaged” and thus had to make sense in a radically different cultural context (23). Thus, a “reasonable expectation” would seem to be recognizing how God could teach his people something in a culture far less progressive and egalitarian than contemporary western culture. Still, what do you do with these problematic texts that cannot be otherwise resolved? Lamb doesn’t explicitly say, but one can infer that he wants to read these texts as Scripture, describing a God we don’t always understand. Though we cannot always understand, we can trust him because of the wealth of other texts that point to a good God.

Lamb’s book is a fairly comprehensive popular-level defense of the OT God. After an introductory chapter Lamb sets up seven contrasting descriptions of God and addresses the relevant texts to show that the OT God really isn’t worthy of his bad reputation. So Lamb asks if Yahweh is,

Angry or loving? (Chapter 2)

Sexist or Affirming? (Chapter 3)

Racist or Hospitable? (Chapter 4)

Violent or Peaceful? (Chapter 5)

Legalistic or Gracious? (Chapter 6)

Rigid or Flexible? (Chapter 7)

Distant or Near? (Chapter 8)

In each chapter he addresses the texts that seem to portray God negatively (sexist, racist, angry, etc.). Then, he draws from a number of other OT texts that describe God quite positively (egalitarian, caring for outsiders, loving, etc.). Lamb attempts to show that most of these OT texts are not so bad, and that overall the picture of God in the OT is a fascinatingly complex, relationally devoted, and ultimately a good God (179-80). So while Lamb admits, “I don’t always understand [God].” He concludes, “I don’t really think he behaves badly” (176).

According to a recent interview with Lamb, the book is aimed at “as wide an audience as possible,” but specifically focused on those persuaded by the arguments of the New Atheists, seekers troubled by the OT, Christians who neglect the OT because they’re afraid of it, and preachers who ignore the OT because they are ill-equipped to understand it. Lamb is an Associate Professor of OT at Biblical Seminary, an evangelical school focused on training people for ministry, and is trying to make the OT readable without ignoring difficult passages. His style is extremely accessible and filled with illustrations from pop-culture including references to TV shows (The Simpsons, The Office), movies (Evan Almighty, Oceans 13), and comic strips (Calvin and Hobbes, Doonesbury). He also has a self-deprecating humor that makes him quite likable.

In my assessment, God Behaving Badly is an apology that will preach to the choir and speak to the seeker, but do little for the skeptic. In the latter chapters that focus on popular misconceptions of the OT God as legalistic, rigid and distant, Lamb does a fine job of showing how these labels are not accurate. Also, the early chapters refuting the angry and sexist conceptions of God are also quite helpful, even if I think the way the NT gets used in these chapters lacks sufficient nuance.[1] These chapters are worthwhile reading for clearing up misconceptions about the OT and making it more accessible to believers. Lamb’s analysis of the problem passages, however, is less convincing.

The least convincing of Lamb’s arguments appears in chapter four, “Racist or Hospitable?” Let me be clear at the outset, there are not many satisfying alternatives to Lamb’s argument. So, I’m not trying to lambaste him for being dishonest, but I do think his approach is inherently flawed. He turns to one of the most difficult problems for Christians reading the OT, “Should the slaughter of the Canaanites by God’s people be considered an act of genocide?” (76). Before answering the question outright, Lamb points to the context of the Ancient Near East. He describes the despicable military practices of Ashurnasirpal of Assyria and the military activity of the Moabite king inscribed in the Mesha inscription. From these comparisons, Lamb makes two points.

First, he argues that Joshua is clearly using hyperbolic language. While the Joshua texts describe “complete destruction” (Josh 10.40; 11.12-15), there are other texts that recognize (often as a lament) the fact that Israel did NOT completely drive out the indigenous population (Josh 13.1-6; 15.63; 16.10; 23.13; 17.12; Judges 1.19-34). Thus, “To reconcile these two divergent perspectives on Israel’s conquest, a nonliteral reading of the texts that speak of ‘all’ people being destroyed is required” (77). Lamb’s argument, then, is that since Israel did not always follow the divine command for total destruction, they really were not all that violent. Even if these commands were not always followed rigidly, the fact that they were issued at all is still disturbing and without sufficient explanation.

Second, Lamb argues that the conquest narratives of Joshua are much less violent than those of Ashurnasirpal and Mesha. In Joshua, Lamb asserts, “There is no mention of women or children, and no descriptions of brutality or mutilation” (77). Unfortunately, this statement is blatantly false. Joshua does explicitly mention the slaughter of women and children (Josh 6.21) as do other OT texts (Deut 2.34, 3.6). While it is true that total destruction was exceptional for war (Deut 20.10-16) and Israel apparently had a reputation for being merciful (1 Kgs 20.31), this does not mean that Israel was in every instance any less violent than other nations in war. Comparing the Mesha inscription with the conquest narratives of Joshua, it is a stretch to suggest that the Joshua text is less violent. If anything it’s the other way around.

The clinching argument for Lamb is that “unlike Assyria and Moab, which were expanding their own borders to enrich their own kingdoms, Israel was simply attempting to gain a homeland” (78). Unfortunately, this is an instance where the hermeneutic of trust becomes a hermeneutic of apologetic. Israel is assumed to be just in her actions so Lamb’s interpretation of the evidence confirms the preformed conclusion. Reading the Moabite stone, for example, it is clear that King Mesha considered his actions completely justified in light of the oppression he faced at the hands of the Israelite King Omri.[2] Of course Israelite stories would describe the conquest as an innocent attempt to gain the homeland which they believed belonged to them. In much the same way as Moabite stories justify the violence of Moabite kings and Assyrian stories justify the violence of Assyrian kings. Just like contemporary Zionists argue that the land of Palestine belongs to them and thus any violence against indigenous Palestinians is justified. There is, however, one substantial difference between Israel’s retelling of stories and other nations’ retellings. As Lamb points out, God is more than willing to punish Israel for her injustice (pg 79 citing 2 Kgs 17; 24-25). So, Israel reads stories against itself as a crucial part of its own narrative.

In the end, Lamb’s honesty is laudable, “The Canaanite conquest is probably the most problematic topic in the Old Testament [. . .] I must resort to taking it on faith that even though God commanded his people to kill the Canaanites, he still loves the nations and ultimately wants to bless them” (81). While I disagree with some of Lamb’s arguments, I agree with his conclusion. The conquest narratives don’t make sense to me, but I trust that God is ultimately good. This trust is not an irrational fideism, but rather a wrestling with the text of scripture and the character of God revealed therein. It is precisely because of my faith in God that these violent OT texts are difficult for me to understand. Similarly, my faith won't allow me to dismiss these texts out of hand.

David Lamb has tackled a difficult subject, making the OT readable to everyday people. Even if he falters in regard to a very difficult problem, he has still written a fine introduction to the OT from the perspective of faith. Lamb successfully shows that the god Dawkins so vehemently opposes is not the God of the OT. Rather, God as we see him in the OT is complex, relationally devoted to people in a specific cultural context, and ultimately a good God. If you’re looking for a book to recommend to a believer or seeker struggling with the OT, this is a good place to start.

[1] For example, Lamb describes Jesus’ temple action (Mt 21.12-13 || Mk 11.15-17 || Lk 19.45-46; Jn 2.14-16) as an important illustration of “the anger of Jesus” (43), but anger appears nowhere in the gospels. If this story was meant to highlight Jesus’ anger how come he is never described as angry in any of these texts? Similarly, he says that he will use the name “Jesus” to refer to the “God of the New Testament” (19). Obviously, Lamb is trying to argue that there shouldn’t be such a sharp dichotomy between the testaments, but this is sloppy theological language. The “God of the NT” is the Father, and Jesus is his anointed Messiah. Furthermore, whatever implications Jesus’ status as Messiah might have for his divine status requires a lot of explanation. Perhaps I’m misunderstanding him, but it does not seem at all accurate to say, “I am simply following the conventions for divine names established in the two testaments” (19). The theological language of the Trinity is not articulated until well into the fifth century. Still, overall Lamb does a fine job dispelling false dichotomies between the OT and NT.

[2] Interestingly enough, Omri is also condemned as a wicked ruler in 1 Kgs 16.25-26 for his idolatry.

Learning to "Read" in an Oral World

2011-06-09T11:50:00.001-06:00

Most of my reading, aside from novels, is focused on biblical studies. Right in line with my interests, this summer I’m doing an independent study focused on the Apostle Paul’s education. I am chiefly interested in discovering how educated Paul was and the significance of his education for reading his letters and understanding his mission.

In the contemporary world, literacy (both the ability to read and write) is a key component of education. In fact, without this basic skill advanced education is impossible. In the ancient world, however, the ability to read was limited (perhaps 10 %) and the ability to write was scarcer still. Paul lived and wrote in a world that was dominated by the oral rather than the written word. In the modern world, the written word is such a basic part of everyday life that we have no idea how much the technology of writing influences the way we think. Imagine, for example, “a culture where no one has ever ‘looked up’ anything” (31) or an educational system with no written homework or required reading. Whatever education Paul may have had, it must have been drastically different than modern education simply by nature of the transition from an orality to literacy.

So, I picked up Walter J. Ong’s Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of the Word in order to understand the significance of the orality-literacy shift. I’ll admit that at first glance, I was not excited about the book. It seemed a necessary evil, but much to my surprise I found the book to be a delightful read. Ong’s introduction to the field of orality studies is fascinating and in many ways paradigm shifting. In lively prose Ong shows how much writing is a technology that has reshaped how humans think.

The first chapter shows that human language is essentially oral. “Indeed, language is so overwhelmingly oral that of all the many thousands of languages [. . .] spoken in the course of human history only around 106 have ever been committed to writing to a degree sufficient to have produced literature, and most have never been written at all” (7). Further still, written texts are based on oral languages. So, while “Oral expression can exist and mostly has existed without any writing at all, writing never without orality” (8).

So, language is thoroughly oral, but as literates we have a difficult time comprehending the significance of orality and so we tend to describe oral performances using our literate category of “oral literature.” Ong has a helpful illustration of the inadequacy of this approach:

Thinking of oral tradition or a heritage of oral performance, genres and styles as ‘oral literature’ is rather like thinking of horses as automobiles without wheels. [. . .] Imagine writing a treatise on horses [. . .] which starts with the concept not of horse but of ‘automobile’ built on the readers’ direct experience of automobiles. [. . .] In the end, horses are only what they are not. (12)

Unfortunately, it is precisely in literary terms that oral traditions have been analyzed. This is problematic especially because we “read” Paul’s letters as literates when they were written to serve an oral function. The shift from orality to literacy has changed how we “read” but we are often unaware of the changes.

The second chapter of the book outlines how scholars stumbled upon the significance of orality as they analyzed Homer’s literature. This history of the subject chapter is interesting but the book gets really good in chapter three which focuses on how orality alters the mental state of humans. Consider how the orality-literacy shift changes complex problem solving. How does a person “work out” a complex problem without the assistance of writing? Further still, how would a person retain the learned information without writing to preserve it? “The only answer is: Think memorable thoughts. [. . .] you have to do your thinking in mnemonic patterns, shaped for ready oral recurrence” (34). As a result, oral traditions have patterned formulaic sayings and type-characters because without the aid of writing complex syllogisms and plot-lines cannot be retained.

One of the many results of this phenomenon is the traditional orientation of oral cultures. “Oral societies must invest great energy in saying over and over again what has been learned arduously over the ages” (41). This is directly contrasted to contemporary measures of education that reward novelty. Another example is how oral cultures tend to think in terms of situations rather than abstractions. When confronted with geometric shapes, oral cultures don’t see circles and squares but rather situated objects like plates and doors (50). Clearly, the way of thinking in an oral culture is different than that of a literate one.

Even the idea of memorization is different in oral cultures. Literate societies think of memorization as being measured “word for word,” constantly checked against a text as the point of reference. Oral cultures have no way to check a verbatim rendition. So, an oral poet will remember formulaic sayings and type characters in his retellings. Though oral cultures claim verbatim retellings, analysis of contemporary oral cultures suggests an average of 60 percent accuracy when the same story is recorded twice and the two checked against one another (61). It has been noted, however, that the accuracy of oral retellings is significantly higher in some ritual texts (62-64). Here Ong points to the textual fluidity of the Last Supper (Mt 26.26-28 || Mk 14.22-24 || Lk 22.19-20; cf. 1 Cor 11.23-25) as an indicator of the oral way of remembering in the early church (64). Orality changes the way we think about memory and this ought to significantly influence, among other things gospel studies and approaches to the so called “synoptic problem.” Memory was measured differently in the oral world.

In chapter four Ong turns his attention to the way in which “writing reconstructs consciousness.” He argues, “More than any other single invention, writing has transformed human consciousness” (77). Most significantly, writing is a technology that transforms communication from the oral-aural sensory perception to visional perception. Communication in oral situations is fundamentally different than written communication. Spoken words are always highly contextual between multiple people. Written communication, however, is a single person’s word crystallized forever in a text (100). There is no interchange or exchange. Because of this, “written words sharpen analysis, for the individual words are called on to do more. To make yourself clear without gesture, without facial expression, without intonation, without a real hearer, you have to foresee circumspectly all possible meanings a statement may have for any possible reader in any possible situation, you have to make your language work so as to come clear all by itself, with no existential context” (102-3). To illustrate his point further Ong traces the use of Latin as the premier “learned language” and rhetoric as the prime subject for much of western history (107-13). He shows that writing reshapes how humans communicate with one another.

Chapter five is concerned with the development of print culture. When the technology of writing shifts communication from an oral/aural sphere to a visual one, it creates “a shift from sound to visual space” (115). This oral to visual shift is, as chapter five argues, observable in the development of print culture. Whereas early manuscripts were focused on producing a written document usable in a primarily oral culture, today print is intended to serve a literate culture. There are two very helpful illustrations of this point. First, the concept of plagiarism is a preoccupation of a literate society and was of little concern in an oral world. “Typography had made the word into a commodity. The old communal world had split up into privately claimed freeholdings” (129; cf. 131). Stories no longer belong to groups or tribes but to individuals. The second illustration of print culture that I found quite illuminating was the development of plot-lines. This illustration is only introduced in chapter five and transitions to chapter six.

The shift from orality to literacy was first observed in literary analysis of Homer. Not surprisingly then, most studies of orality-literacy shift dynamics have focused on literature and narrative in particular. The shift is keenly observable in the development of the concept of a plot line as seen in chapter six. Today, elementary school students learn the development of a plot in terms of a story arc (139). In the world of literature the climax of plot is the detective story (141). “In the ideal detective story, ascending action builds relentlessly to all but unbearable tension, the climactic recognition and reversal releases the tension with explosive suddenness, and the dénouement disentangles everything totally – every single detail in the story turns out to have been crucial – and, until the climax and dénouement, effectively misleading” (146). Thus, a very tight plot line allows for great complexity in character development and “plot twists” that turn out to be quite important (148-52). In the context of an oral world, however, the primary genre of oral tradition is the epic, which does not have a linear plot. Epic poetry is episodic. The story begins “in the middle of things” and can contain lengthy digressions that do not serve a specific plot development. Literate stories have intricately woven plots but oral cultures have creative ways of immersing their readers in an episodic experience.

The last chapter of Ong’s book is devoted to some theorems about how the orality-literacy shift can be applied in other fields of study. He points to implications for literary theory (157-162), deconstructionist theory (162-66), speech-act theory and reader response criticism (166-68) and, most interesting to me, the fields of social sciences, philosophy, and biblical studies (168-70). He is particularly emphatic about biblical studies,

Orality-literacy theorems challenge biblical study perhaps more than any other field of learning, for over the centuries, biblical study has generated what is doubtlessly the most massive body of textual commentary in the world. [. . .] But [. . .] biblical studies, like other textual studies, are inclined unwittingly to model the noetic and verbal economy of oral cultures on literacy, projecting oral memory as a variant of verbatim literate memory and thinking of what is preserved in oral tradition as a kind of text that is only waiting to be set down in writing (170).

Ong’s argument burns away much of the scholarly dross that has accumulated around the biblical text over centuries of studying it as a text apart from a developing oral tradition. I think this has significant implications for how we read Paul in light of developing hermeneutical traditions after his death. But alas, I digress.

There is much to commend in Ong’s book. First, it was unexpectedly readable. Filled with interesting illustrations of his points, Ong held my attention throughout. Second, the book forced me to rethink a lot of my assumptions about how I read a text and especially the biblical text. But this rethinking helps in deconstructing false assumptions and reconstructing accurate assumptions about what to expect in oral cultures. Third, Ong’s thesis is bold without being all-encompassing. He rigorously argues that the shift from orality to literacy provided a context for the development of the western world, but he does not want to relegate every development simply to the invention of writing. Orality and Literacy is a fine example of an introductory book to a paradigm-shifting subject. Students of the Bible need to learn to think in an oral world as they “read” in a historically responsible way.

How Sacred Texts Took Shape in an Oral World

2011-06-04T12:32:00.000-06:00

In a comprehensive analysis of the sociology of textuality in the ancient world, David M. Carr provides a panoramic view of the production, collection, revision and use of texts that produced the scriptures. The book, Writing on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature is by no means a scintillating read. Still, Carr manages to work his way through Ancient Near Eastern forms of textuality and education (Part 1) all the way to the late Second Temple era (Part 2). His primary focus is how textuality and orality work together to shape cultural identity.

There is a burgeoning movement in biblical scholarship to analyze how texts functioned in a largely oral world. For most of its life critical biblical scholarship has been focused on texts within the framework of the modern print world. So, theories like the documentary hypothesis arise in which ancients are portrayed as splicing texts together as a kind of “cut and paste” editing. This sort of thing is only possible in a world where texts are easily accessed and compared. Recent scholarship, however, has begun to notice that these ancient texts were produced, transmitted, edited, and used in an oral world. This means that not only were a large majority of people illiterate, but even more significantly that texts functioned differently. Texts were intended to serve the means of an oral culture. Thus, practical dynamics of “cut and paste” editing are hardly plausible in an oral world.

Even the texts themselves are “highly reader-unfriendly” (4) written in all capital letters, without any spacing between letters, no punctuation, and no paragraph breaks. How do these reader-unfriendly texts become useful? The ancient texts were produced in such a way that “presupposed that the reader already knew the given text and had probably memorized it to some extent” (5). Thus, “readers” already knew the texts from memory and the textual copies were merely aides in the process of oral recitation. Rather than supposing a sharp dichotomy between the written text and the oral use of these texts, David Carr looks at the texts and the oral use of these texts as “joint means for accomplishing a common goal: accurate recall of the treasured tradition” (7). In order to show how these dynamics are at work, Carr focuses on ANE education (Part 1) then moves to the Second Temple era (Part 2).

Carr begins with Mesopotamia as one of the earliest and best evidenced examples of text production. The goal of this educational system was to give an elite representation of the truest form of humanity to serve the ends of the kingdom. In many ways scribal activity was concentrated to serve political administrative ends. Text reproduction took place in a context of memorized tradition that took creative license by combining memorized traditions into new master texts that were considered quite faithful to the originals (36, 44). One interesting result of this form of text reproduction is that the idea of a single authoritative text was never the ideal. “As a result, the modern attempt to produce a scholarly edition of those ancient texts that were transmitted primarily in the mind ends up producing a figment of the scholarly imagination: a ‘standard text’ with ‘variants’” (44). This is a lowest-common-denominator-text that lacks the creativity of its individual representations. So many modern “critical editions” are nothing more than a flattening of the text. In the broad scope, Carr finds the influence of this Mesopotamian scribal culture evidenced throughout the ANE (chapter 3).

Next, Carr moves to Egypt as another example of early scribal culture that was widely influential. It portrays writing as a means of overcoming memory faults. Rather than beginning with archaic lists (like in Mesopotamia), Egyptian education began with texts (68-9). Again, like in Mesopotamian scribal culture, the goal was a “memorized mastery of the cultural tradition” (75), but Egypt also shows a shift in associating textual reproduction with temple-complexes more significantly than political administrative centers (80-81). There are many overlapping similarities between Mesopotamian scribal culture and Egyptian scribal culture (81-83) but Egypt began to revere scribal activity as sacred activity (83) and develop a more prominent wisdom tradition (83). Egyptian scribal culture has significant influences on Israel (84-90).

Before turning his focus on ancient Israel specifically (chapter 6), Carr describes textuality and ancient education in Greece. It is a more difficult task because of the lack of evidence, but there is a notable use of texts for public performance. This use of texts is evidenced both in literature (95-99) and iconography (104-106). In contrast to Mesopotamia and Egypt, Greek scribal culture used an alphabetic writing system and different writing material (106). Greek culture resided textual authority in specific authors rather than developing lines of tradition (107). These authors were recited in public gatherings as a reminder of the ideals of Greek culture. This concept becomes significant for the formation of a body of "scripture" in late Second Temple literature.

In his lengthiest chapter in the first part of the book, Carr turns to scribal activity in ancient Israel (chapter 6). Literacy seems to be limited to a few elite officials in the early monarchy, and these scribes seem to be heavily influenced by the Egyptian scribal system, or perhaps trained Egyptian scribes (116-117). The cultural values of Israel, however, were not limited to these scribes but are evidenced in earlier figures like Moses, Samuel and other prophets (118-119). There is little that can be definitely said about literacy in the early period because of the lack of epigraphic evidence. Though textual education does play a prominent role in Deuteronomy, it is often wondered if this is a pious retrojection rather than a historical reality (134-142). This Deuteronomic scribal vision sought to displace other visions by focusing educational life on Torah. Carr also sees a developing “counter education” at work in the prophets (143-151). This “counter education” sought to oppose certain key educated players in the bureaucracy that had risen to power rather than the Deuteronomic system itself. Carr goes on to depict a history of textuality in Israel (161-173). The process moves from a very few educated elite to the goal of a more educated people, but this goal is more an ideal than reality.

In the second half of his book, Carr focuses on textuality and education in and around the Second Temple era. He begins with Greek education because of widespread expansion and use as a “means for legitimizing Greek overlordship” (177). In Greek culture the highest levels of education were reserved for those who mastered the Greek tradition of the classic authors. It was not necessarily the ability to read and write that set one apart as a member of the elite, but rather “the mastery of Greek tradition provided by a liberal education” (190). There was also the added educational element of the gymnasium as a “decisive maker of membership in the upper echelons of the Greek ruling class” (191). Again, the imperialism of athletic domination and elite status are palpable (191-192).

In chapter 8, Carr moves to the Hellenistic era of the Second Temple period (333 BCE – 70 CE). He sees a reoccurring theme of textual education focused on the temple and priests as textual guardians and educators. He begins with pseudepigraphic literature as the earliest evidence of this period (202-6) which shows a family based education/textuality focused on priestly figures. Next, he describes Ben Sira as an important transitional figure who while similar to apocalyptic texts, “writes in his own name, praises the contemporary priesthood, and affirms the Mosaic Torah as the decisive teaching above others” (208). He thus provides a shift to the kind of “hybridity” (211-12), seen in Egyptian scribal traditions reacting to Greek culture (cf. 193-198 esp. 197). The chapter ends with other examples of temple/priest education/textuality (212-214). Carr sees the hybridity evidenced in Egyptian reaction to Greek culture an apt parallel for Second Temple Jewish reactions to Hellenism.

Chapter 9 focuses on Qumran as a window into Jewish education and textuality. He sees the continued connection of education to the priesthood (216-220), but this vision is broadened into “one realization—or at least idealization—of a particularly literate Israel, an Israel whose holiness is not only constituted by proper observance of various regulations but also by its members’ special knowledge of sacred texts” (220). Turning to the explicitly educational texts in Qumran, Carr observes the same oral/written dynamic at work designed to educate to the degree of oral memorized repetition.

In a very brief tenth chapter, Carr looks at the evidence for textuality at work apart from the temple, particularly in the synagogue. After a brief overview of the epigraphic evidence (242-44) he turns to the literary references of Philo (244-46) and Josephus (246-50). Though these sources are dominated by the tendencies of their authors “writing in Greek and in conflictual settings,” the appearance of an identifiable set of literature as “scripture” is identifiable. This sets the stage for Carr’s final argument in chapter 11.

Carr attempts to show that the development of a specific body of Hebrew “scriptures” was the result of the Hasmonean dynasty. Though heavily influenced by Greek culture, the Hasmoneans styled themselves as an “anti-Hellenistic” movement (255, 256-8). In another example of hybridity, the Hasmoneans sought to adopt a specific body of texts that identified the Jewish culture (a Greek concept), but this body of texts needed to be in Hebrew and “pre-Hellenistic” in order for the Hasmoneans to play the part of restorers (258; cf. 260). Thus, the body of texts that became the focal point of Jewish identity was prompted by the Hasmonean political concern to identify themselves apart from Greek culture. But these texts were drawn from a much earlier already recognized body Hebrew texts. Still, the Hasmonean scriptures displaced other texts that were recognized by other Jews (Ben Sira for example). So, scripture takes shape as resistance to Greek culture, but predicated on Greek assumptions of what it means to have a culture identity.

The implications of Carr’s ambitious work are far reaching to say the least. He has sought to completely rethink textual production, transmission, collection, revision and use of texts in light of recent scholarship on the significance of orality. This rethinking, furthermore, is not just focused on one particular period of scribal activity but the broad scope from the Mesopotamia to the late Hellenistic Second Temple period. It is bold, insightful and refreshing to see a scholar thinking outside of the usual assumptions of modern print culture. Likely, this book will be hailed as something of a watershed for years to come. At the very least, Carr has shown that the future of biblical scholarship will have to take note of the textual/oral dynamic at work in the world of the Bible and its “readers.”

Resurrection in Romans

2011-05-28T08:59:00.000-06:00

Could someone be so presumptuous to suggest that the masterpiece of Romans has been misunderstood? J. R. Daniel Kirk is precisely that presumptuous in his debut book, Unlocking Romans: Resurrection and the Justification of God. He argues that for too long, scholars have been asking the wrong questions and thus arriving at ill formed conclusions about Paul’s master epistle. Chiefly, Kirk considers the way in which Romans is read as a theological abstraction thoroughly problematic. Instead of reading Romans looking for definitions and doctrines, the standard approach to Romans in a post-reformation context, Kirk is concerned to describe “God’s identity” which is inseparable from his covenant obligations to Israel.

Thesis:

It is refreshing that Kirk’s rereading is not based on ideological criticism, so popular nowadays, but rather on a close reading of the text. Analyzing Romans through the lens of a theme found in every major section of the text he identifies what he sees as the “hermeneutical key” to the book – the resurrection of Jesus. So, his thesis reads, “In Romans, the resurrection of Jesus becomes Paul’s key for demonstrating that the promises contained in the Scriptures have been fulfilled in the Christ event.” Thus, “Resurrection is the most pervasive theme of the letter and it functions throughout as a hermeneutical key for reinterpreting the Scriptures and stories of Israel” (8).

Reading resurrection as the key to Romans addresses three major concerns of the letter. First, Kirk contends that it is because of the resurrection that Paul can read scripture the way he does. It has long been recognized that Paul’s use of the OT is especially pervasive in Romans and, in Kirk’s view; it is the resurrection that provides the lens through which Paul is reading the OT. Second, it is because of the resurrection that Paul can contend Gentiles are now included among the people of God. Third, Kirk wants to read Romans as concerned with theodicy. How can God be faithful to his covenant if the majority of Israel does not believe? Kirk suggests, “Resurrection simultaneously provides the means for vindicating humanity and for vindicating God” (11). It is in resurrection that God can vindicate the righteous and thereby vindicate himself as just. Kirk’s argument about resurrection, then, provides the key to Paul’s hermeneutic, Gentile mission, and theodicy.

Summary:

Kirk is exactly right to find resurrection as a thread running throughout Romans (Rom 1.4, 16-17; 4.16-23; 5.9-10, 15-21; 6.1-23; 7.1-6; 8.1-39; 10.1-13; 11.13-15; 13.8-14; 14.1-12; and 15.12). Before analyzing each text, however, he provides a very succinct second chapter (pgs 14-32) on resurrection in Second Temple Judaism. He focuses on Daniel and 2 Maccabees and compares 2 Baruch, 1 Enoch, Psalms of Solomon, Apocryphon of Ezekiel, and even Josephus. Following George W.E. Nickelsburg’s Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism, Kirk analyzes the literature by asking what function resurrection serves in the various stories of God’s interaction with humanity. He sees resurrection serving four purposes: [1] justice for the oppressed, [2] “motivation for righteous behavior”; [3] “restoration of creation”; and [4] “the restoration of Israel” (15).

Next, he turns to analyzing the texts in Romans were resurrection shows up. In chapter three Kirk shows that resurrection frames the letter in two structurally significant passages (Rom 1.1-7; 15.12). As he looks as how Paul describes Jesus’ resurrection, Kirk most helpfully points out, “The resurrection of Jesus, and of Jesus alone, exacerbates the theodicy problem that resurrection is intended to solve: is the God of Israel not capable of delivering his people and rewarding them for their faithfulness?” This, then, is why Paul turns to the scriptures of Israel to explain how it is that God is still just in raising the Messiah alone. This sets the stage for Paul’s overwhelmingly Christological readings of the OT. In Kirk’s mind, Paul is from the outset (Hab 2.4 in Rom 1.17) setting the course of “resurrection hermeneutics,” which “will lie at the heart of defending God’s fidelity to the promises contained in Scripture and will do so by demonstrating that the people of God consists of both Jew and Gentile living out the obedience of faith” (55).

Chapter four of Unlocking Romans turns to Romans 4. Here, Kirk sees Paul rereading the Abraham narrative through the lens of Jesus’ resurrection. Rather than the readings of Abraham as Torah obedient, Paul reads him as a “type for God’s faithful people” (64) based on his belief in the God who raises the dead. So the “kind of faith” that “has tied both Jews and Gentiles to Abraham’s paternity” is “resurrection faith” (66). Therefore, the people of God are defined, not by Torah, but “by participating in the progeny raised up through God’s resurrection power” (83).

Chapter five, focused on Romans 5.9-10, argues that Paul “rework[s] every major function” that resurrection performed in Second Temple Judaism (85). Justification is not a future declaration that occurs based on Torah obedience, but a present reality vindicated by the resurrection of Jesus and those who participate in him. I think Kirk is correct, but his argument would have been much stronger if he had expanded his comparative analysis beyond 4 Ezra and included other Second Temple texts.

Chapter six provides an overview of Romans 5.12-8.11 by addressing the role of the Law. Kirk returns to the law in chapter eight (focused on Romans 10.6-13). In chapter six he argues that even though Paul cites scripture much less in 5.12-8.11, he is still very much focused on rereading Israel’s story through his resurrection hermeneutic. This is a very important, yet often overlooked, observation. Interestingly, sin/death is portrayed as a reigning power (Rom 5.13-14) to which the law has become aligned. This is a stark contrast to other Second Temple theologies. For example, in Psalms of Solomon 14.1-2 obedience to the law aligns one with God. To explain the role of the law, Kirk uses the metaphor of a vicegerent unwillingly put into the service of king Sin’s desires (81). The “I” of Rom 7.7-25 is “Adam” the man of the age of sin (cf. Rom 5.13ff.). Following E. P. Sanders Kirk finds Paul’s understanding of the law is not based on anything inherently problematic in the law itself, but rather retrospectively shaped by the resurrection of Jesus.

Before returning to the role of the law, Kirk follows Paul for an extended look at eschatological hope embodied in one of the most beautiful passages in all Scripture (Rom 8.12-39). Scholars have found echoes of numerous OT stories and themes in Romans 8, including Adam and creation, Abraham, the exodus, Davidic kingship, return from exile, and eschatological consummation. Kirk shows how Paul has all these themes in view (to varying degrees) but that each of them is reshaped by the resurrection of Jesus. So, “Whatever eschatological vision Paul may have had to work with in his Jewish toolbox, his own rendering of the story is profoundly resurrection-christological” (137).

Chapter 8 focuses on Romans 10.6-13 and returns to the question of the Law’s role. In fact, it seems to me that Kirk is allowing this later passage to shape how he reads Rom 5.12-8.11. In Kirk’s view, Romans 10 makes resurrection the quintessential “act of God” which must therefore define the faith of Israel as God’s people. This is relevant to Torah, because the resurrection displaces Torah’s role in most other Second Temple Jewish theologies. Paul’s use of Deut 30.12-13 in Rom 10.6-9 is particularly interesting because of the way Paul revises the text in an acceptable way to Jewish ears to support a radically different perspective than other Second Temple interpreters (167-168). Again, Kirk finds Paul reading scripture through the lens of the resurrection.

Chapter 9 is provocatively titled, “Resurrection and the Future of Israel” and focuses on Rom 11.15. Though there are numerous exegetical and theological questions in Rom 11, Kirk observes “the main contours [of the argument] are clear enough”: [1] “the current situation of Israelite disbelief and Gentile acceptance of the gospel is part of God’s mysterious plan of blessing the Gentiles by means of ethnic Israel” and [2] “the current disbelief of ethnic Israel is not permanent” (181). Israel’s hope as God’s chosen people is reshaped by Paul’s resurrection hermeneutic. Kirk is adamant that this Israel-as-resurrected interpretation, however, is not an argument for an eschatological ingathering of ethnic Israel (190). Thus Kirk provides an interesting argument for the salvation of Israel without foraying into a wild system as to how that might happen.

Chapter 10 turns to the how resurrection informs Paul’s ethical exhortations in Rom 13.8-14; 14.1-9. One of the great strengths of Kirk’s thesis is that resurrection, unlike justification, runs through every major section of Romans. Since the resurrection has become the cornerstone of God’s justice, ethical thought must also undergo a rereading via resurrection hermeneutics. There could have been much more here in regard to how Paul allows resurrection to reshape his ethics, but most of the chapter was spent arguing that Paul is in fact referring to resurrection despite other interpretations.

Kirk’s last chapter provides a summary conclusion that focuses on some contemporary applications of Paul’s resurrection hermeneutic. Not surprisingly, this chapter focuses on how Paul reads scripture, engages in a Gentile mission, and responds to the theological problem of evil (theodicy). It is a very clearly written chapter that ought to be required reading for undergraduates. It shows how resurrection shapes Paul’s thought in Romans and its implications today. Kirk opposes reading Romans looking only for soteriology, disdains how ethnic and even theological divisions have separated the church, and contends for an “already/not yet” apocalyptic eschatology to shape a humble response to the problem of evil. This chapter takes a decidedly more preachy tone, but it serves well an attempt to give some application to the argument.

Evaluation:

Unlocking Romans is a revision of Kirk’s doctoral dissertation “Resurrection in Romans: Reinterpreting Romans the Stories of Israel in Light of the Christ Event,” which was overseen by the master of NT use of the OT, Richard B. Hays. In many ways Kirk follows Hays’ impressive work on Paul’s use of the OT (Echoes of Scripture and Conversion of the Imagination) while still offering his own contribution by focusing on resurrection. I do wonder what the intended audience was for this book. Citations of German and French articles and commentaries makes me think the audience is primarily academic, but then why not include more material from the dissertation? Most undergraduate students would probably find Kirk’s book difficult reading, so I am at a bit of a loss as to who I would recommend this book to other than those keenly interested in Pauline theology. I think it deserves recommendation but non-specialists will probably have a difficult time.

I am always impressed when an argument unfolds that helps a reader see something in the text that was always there. I finished this book and thought, “Well of course it’s about resurrection!” But then, I began to reflect on how often Romans is preached and taught without recognition of resurrection’s significance in Paul’s thought. I am thankful for J. R. Daniel Kirk for showing us what was always there but we had lost the eyes to see through centuries of looking for soteriology.

The phrase “resurrection hermeneutic” is quite helpful and I thought Kirk could have exploited it more than he did. Perhaps, it could be modified into “Christological resurrection hermeneutic” but then it becomes quite a mouthful. Regardless, the concept is very helpful for understanding Paul. I wonder how this might be applied to Paul’s other letters and to see if the shoe fits? Overall, I found Kirk’s book to be a fascinating reading of Paul that is correct in identifying resurrection as crucial to Paul’s thought and argument in Romans.

Despite, the many strengths of this book I still have numerous questions and some disagreements. Throughout his book, Kirk disparages Francis Watson’s reading of Paul’s hermeneutic (pg 45 footnote 58; pg 47 footnote 66; pg 48; pg 99 footnote 6; pg 209 footnote 3). Watson suggests that Paul’s is not imposing his readings on the OT, but rather finding two dissonant voices in the OT and siding with one against the other (Paul and the Hermeneutics of Faith). Kirk is thoroughly dissatisfied with Watson’s reading because he sees Paul only able to read the OT the way he does after the resurrection. I think both Watson and Kirk are correct. Paul’s hermeneutic was radically reshaped by the resurrection. But, as Watson argues, Paul would have to justify that hermeneutic by reading the OT. He would not have been comfortable imposing his theology on the text nor would he have been convincing to those whom he wrote if he had done so. I think Kirk points this direction when he cites Richard Hays describing “the circularity of Paul’s hermeneutic” (pg 174 footnote 43). Paul reread the OT in light of the resurrection, but he did not consider that rereading an imposition.

I have other unanswered questions. If the law is displaced by resurrection and placed alongside the age of sin and death, what is its enduring value for Christians? Why does Paul appeal to it so strongly? Is it just the vestigial remains of his once very Jewish faith that has been transformed in the wake of resurrection? I know that Kirk does not want to read Paul as something other than a Jew, but how would his rereading have sounded to other Jewish ears? How could he justify his reading from the text itself if in fact it was so radically reshaped by the resurrection? As a whole, I think Paul’s understanding of the law required much more attention. As a prime example, Romans 7.7-25 received only a page of comment (124). So, “resurrection hermeneutics” still has some explaining to do when it comes to the law.

I repeatedly found myself saying, “Yes, resurrection, but where is the Holy Spirit?” I think this relates to Paul’s view of the law as well. What role does the Holy Spirit play in displacing the Torah? How does the resurrection reshape Paul’s theology of the Spirit? It’s not that Kirk ignored the Holy Spirit, I just think it merits more consideration especially in Romans 8. How does the Holy Spirit figure in “resurrection hermeneutics”?

These questions were prodded by a penetrating study of Romans. Unlocking Romans is a fine example of closely reading Paul’s master epistle and show us something that we should have seen all along.

Joplin Relief Work – Just the Beginning

2011-05-27T13:27:00.001-06:00

As everyone already knows, the small town of Joplin Missouri was hit by the most devastating Tornado in recent memory on Sunday evening. Check out some before and after photos here.

Check out raw footage:

Growing up in Arizona, I remember learning about “Tornado Alley” in grade school and thinking to myself, “Of all the places in the world, why does anyone live there?” Years later I was attending a small college right in the middle of tornado alley. Having spent five years in Joplin, I know the fear and frequency of tornado warnings. My wife and I rented a small house that was just a step above a shack. When the sirens went off we would huddle in our bathtub with wedding pictures, our cat, a flashlight and the radio alarm clock to listen for weather updates. Thankfully, our fears never materialized into destruction in Joplin. We did, however, see numerous towns decimated in surrounding areas. Despite my experiences with tornadoes and seeing aftermath in nearby towns, I have never seen anything like the current state of Joplin.

On Monday afternoon, we received a call from a member of our church who owns a semi-truck and trailer. After staying up most of the night listening to the police scanners in Joplin, he wanted to know if we could help fill the trailer with relief supplies to send to Joplin. Initially, we were skeptical that the trailer could be filled, but we consented hoping to help in some small way. I spent Monday late afternoon and evening collecting goods as they slowly appeared in the parking lot. It looked grim for filling up a pickup truck.

I arrived at the church on Tuesday morning ill prepared for the outpouring of generosity we saw. Numerous members of the church showed up to help organize and pack the supplies as donations came rolling in steadily accumulating to over four semi-truck loads of relief supplies. I was neither the first person to arrive nor the last to leave on Tuesday, but after eleven hours of packing, directing traffic, and shrink-wrapping pallets, I was exhausted. My neck was burnt to a lobster red. My feet throbbed from standing on concrete all day. I was ready to be done.

I got a call that evening that more people were needed for the trip down to Joplin. I was torn. Part of me desperately wanted to be in Joplin to encourage old friends, to help with the relief efforts, to do something. But I knew this would be a “drop off turn around” operation. There was no promise that we would see much of Joplin. The farmers who generously donated their time and trucks had to get back home to their families and their crops.

The convoy left Wednesday morning at 7:30 and we began our eight hour drive to Joplin. On our way we drove through more inclement weather to arrive at Joplin around four o’clock in the afternoon. The church we’re partnering with acquired a massive warehouse where they are storing supplies. While the forklifts unloaded, the senior pastor of the church there took us into the carnage.

At first we drove through a wooded area with houses scattered throughout. Trees were uprooted, stripped of their leaves, branches torn off and strewn about. Soon we were driving through the area where the debris from the leveled Wal Mart and Home Depot were dropped. Sheet metal was wrapped around the trees still standing like a blanket around a small child. Roofs were torn apart and shrapnel protruded from houses. We thought it was bad, but hadn’t seen anything yet.

Soon we began to see piles of unidentifiable scrap. Occasionally, we would notice the rear end of a car sticking out of the top of a mountain of debris. Then we came over a hill and I saw where the largest Wal Mart in town once stood. It was mostly gone. Our guide told us that he and a friend first went to Wal Mart to help on Sunday night, “We found lots of people . . . some alive, some . . . not.”

Laura, one of my wife’s closest friends, lived in the apartment complex located directly behind the destroyed Wal Mart. She was inside her second story apartment when she heard the siren and barricaded herself in the bathroom. Laura listened in trembling fear as the roof was violently ripped away and rain began to pour into her apartment. Amazingly, she lived through it. Climbing her way downstairs she walked to her husband’s work to see if he was still alive. She found him and together they walked through the destruction to her parent’s house, miraculously still standing.

An aerial view of apartments right next to Laura's pictured right.

Laura's apartment from the outside:

To the south of Wal Mart were the remains of a leveled Home Depot. There were even more fatalities in Home Depot because of the sharp and heavy objects inside. Our guide told us a story about a woman driving home who watched as a two-by-four piece of wood came flying through her windshield and speared through her and her car seat. He couldn’t bear to say much else about it.

Driving one block west of Rangeline Road, where the Wal Mart and Home Depot once stood, we turned around in the remains of a neighborhood. Some houses were blown off their foundation. Other homes were missing roofs. We watched a man use a billboard sign as a make-shift tarp to temporarily patch a massive hole in his roof. We saw a garage door graffitied, “You loot, we shoot!” Worst of all, we saw a totaled truck with a spray-painted message on its side, “Looking 4 Zachary and William please call . . .” (pictured below). Hundreds of people are still missing. In silence we witnessed the despair and loss inscribed everywhere on the hellish landscape.

We heard about a young man named Will Norton who was driving home with his father from his high school graduation. The father and son were caught on the road when the storm hit. The wind blew the sunroof off their car and as Will’s father tried to grab hold of his son, Will was torn out of his seat belt and sucked-up through the sunroof. As of yesterday, Will is still missing.

There are numerous other first person accounts of the tornado available here. You can also read an extremely well-written first person account of an ER doctor from St. John's Hospital (pictured below) which was devastated by the twister here.

Unfortunately, we could not spend more time in the city. The trucks were almost unloaded and the warehouse needed us to move out to prepare for more supply trucks. We also knew that there was no room for gawkers when rescue workers needed roads clear for finding people still trapped in the wreckage.

After our departure we drove for another three hours before stopping at a hotel for the night. The convoy arrived back in Champaign Thursday afternoon at around 1:00 pm. I was exhausted and happy to finally just relax. My head began to swirl with all of the chores I would need to attend to after the craziness of the week. The lawn needs mowed, e-mails to return, a sermon to write . . .

Then I remembered the people in Joplin. Most of the workers in the warehouse were school teachers, pastors, high school students and local volunteers. They probably hadn’t slept for three days. Houses were in rubble. Families devastated. Everything changed. But for them, there is no relaxing evening to come. There is no end in sight. Their feet hurt. Their necks are sunburned. Their lives are changed.

For them, the relief work is just beginning. I can only hope that we will have the fortitude to partner for the duration of the process. May the contribution of supplies be just the beginning of our efforts as well.

Why the rapture won’t happen . . . EVER!

2011-05-20T23:12:00.006-06:00

Yesterday afternoon a frantic member of the church called looking to speak to one of the two preaching ministers on staff. Unfortunately, both of them happened to be out of the office at that particular moment. Frustrated the man asked, “Is Saturday the end of the world?” He was, of course, referring to the nonsense espoused by familyradio.com. Their website claims that the Bible guarantees May 21, 2011 as “Judgment Day.”

Flustered by the question, our sweet little administrative assistant simply said, “Only God knows.” That was the end of the conversation. I only wish that was the end of the rapture craziness.

A quick glance through history shows that many well-intentioned but grossly uninformed Christians have made erroneous predictions about when the end of the world would come. As early as 172 CE a movement of Christians began claiming that they would be the last generation. One of their prophetesses declared, “After me there will no longer be a prophet, but the end” (Epiph. Haer. 48.2.4). At the dawn of the reformation, one of Martin Luther’s students, Thomas Müntzer (ca. 1488‒1525) became fascinated with end-times speculation. Müntzer believed that God promised a victory for the peasants against their feudal lords and that Müntzer, leading the charge, would catch the enemy’s cannonballs in his coat sleeves. When a rainbow appeared, he declared it was a confirmation that God would give the peasants victory. The revolt was crushed with devastating force shortly thereafter. More recently, Hal Lindsay in his wildly popular theological train-wreck, The Late Great Planet Earth declared in no uncertain terms, that the “rapture” would occur in 1988. These are just a few of the many examples cited by Richard Kyle in his helpful little book, The Last Days are Here Again: A History of the End Times. All of this speculation in spite of the fact that Jesus said, “no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the father” when the day of judgment will come (Mt 24.36).

So, clearly history teaches us that predicting the last day of the world is stupid, but what about scripture? The claim of familyradio.com is that the Bible is the sole source of their prediction. Apparently they missed the thing that Jesus said about no one knowing? Regardless, it is worth pointing out that the key "rapture passages" teach the exact opposite of what rapture theorist claim. Not only is it not found in scripture, it is bad theology and it contradicts what Jesus does say about final judgment.

Let’s be clear. I am not saying there is no final judgment. I am saying there is NO RAPTURE. The word “rapture” appears nowhere in the Bible. So, we have to look at the definition of the rapture, by those who believe it, and look at scripture to see if the two align.

Rapture advocates define the rapture as,

His appearance in the clouds will be veiled to the human eye and NO ONE WILL SEE HIM. He will slip in, slip out; move in to get His jewels and slip out as under the cover of night.[1]

The word ‘rapture’ means to snatch away or take away. [. . .] Someday, [. . .] Jesus Christ is coming to take away all those who believe in Him. He is coming to meet all true believers in the air.[2]

The rapture is the secret coming of Christ to take his faithful church out of the world initiating the 7 year tribulation before the millennial kingdom. This idea is built on bad readings of scripture. There are two main passages cited to support the idea of a rapture. The first passage cited to support the rapture theory is Matthew 24.36-41. It is worth quoting the passage in full,

³⁶“No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. ³⁷As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. ³⁸For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; ³⁹and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. ⁴⁰Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left. ⁴¹Two women will be grinding with a hand mill; one will be taken and the other left.”

Rapture advocates suggest that the passage clearly refers to a rapture. Here you have the righteous being taken away unexpectedly. Unfortunately, the interpretation does not fit the passage. If you read the text closely, the righteous are not the ones taken, but rather it is those who did not expect the flood that will be “taken away” (Mt 24.39). Reading the text slowly it is obvious. So, at the coming of the son of man, the evil ones will be the ones will be “taken away” in judgment leaving the righteous. The logic of the passage is the exact opposite of a rapture of the righteous.

The second key passage is from Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians (1 Thess 4.13-18). Again, the entirety of the passage requires quotation,

¹³Brothers, we do not want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope. ¹⁴We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. ¹⁵According to the Lord’s own word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left till the coming [παρουσία] of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. ¹⁶For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. ¹⁷After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet [ἀπάντησιν] the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. ¹⁸Therefore encourage each other with these words.

This is the most important rapture passage. Based on a superficial reading, rapture advocates suggest that here Paul is outlining how believers will be raptured at the second coming of Jesus. This reading is problematic for a number of reasons. First, in a practical vein, what comfort would it be to the grieving Thessalonians that God would rapture some future generation of believers but let the Thessalonians go on suffering? Second, and more importantly, the language of the passage clearly indicates that Paul is not describing believers leaving earth forever, but rather meeting their king as he comes to reign on earth. The word for “meet” refers to a meeting with someone for the purpose of bringing them back from where you originally came. The word occurs only two other times in the NT, both times indicate a meeting with the intent to return to the point of original (Acts 28.11-16; Mt 25.6). Similarly, the Jewish historian Josephus (Jewish Wars 7.100‒102) describes the scene of a conquering general marching into a city and "meeting" at his "coming,"

(100) But when the people of Antioch were informed that Titus was approaching, they were so glad at it, that they could not keep within their walls, but hasted away to give him the meeting; (101) nay, they proceeded as far as thirty furlongs, and more, with that intention. These were not the men only, but a multitude of women also with their children did the same; (102) and when they saw him coming up to them, they stood on both sides of the way, and stretched out their right hands, saluting him, and making all sorts of acclamations to him, and turned back together with him.

Josephus describes precisely the spectacle that Paul is using as a metaphor to describe the return of Jesus. This same idea is implied with the word “Coming” [παρουσία] which literally means “presence” (Cf. 2 Cor 7.6; Phil 1:26). In the ancient world there was a common spectacle whereby citizens would leave their city to meet a visiting dignitary or newly appointed king. Then, these citizens would accompany their ruler back to the city and celebrate. Paul is drawing on this imagery to encourage suffering believers of their coming vindication as they will rise to meet Jesus and celebrate his eternal reign on earth.

The will not be a rapture. Not today, not tomorrow not ever.

[1] Oral Roberts, How to be Personally Prepared for the Second Coming of Christ (Tulsa, OK: Oral Roberts Evangelistic Association, 1967) pg 34.

[2] Hal Lindsay with C.C. Carlson, The Late Great Planet Earth (New York: Bantam books, 1970) pg 126.

Why the "New Atheists" are Irrelevant

2011-05-19T14:05:00.000-06:00

Reading N. T. Wright’s recent response to the overwhelming inadequacy of Stephen Hawking’s atheist dribble reminded me of a fantastic book that I didn’t review here, Atheist Delusions: The Christian Revolution and its Fashionable Enemies.

Let me first say that David Bentley Hart is, in my opinion, the crème de la crème of contemporary theologians. Even if you want to dismiss Christianity, he’s the guy you have to deal with if you want to do so genuinely. You’ll need a dictionary close by to even work your way through his more “popular-level” work, but it’s worth it. He is an orthodox theologian who writes with lively density and intellectual force.

Hart is more than willing to lampoon intellectually vacuous atheism, which rests on “oceans of historical ignorance, made turbulent by the storms of strident self-righteousness . . . as contemptible as any other form of dreary fundamentalism” (3). Consider his estimate of Dawkins (3),

Richard Dawkins, the zoologist and tireless tractarian, who-despite his embarrassing incapacity for philosophical reasoning-never fails to entrance his eager readers with his rhetorical recklessness.

But, he’s also more than willing to admit that, “there are many forms of atheism that I find far more admirable than many forms of Christianity or of religion in general” (4). Hart’s goal is to force people to reckon with real Christianity historically.

The book that ensues is a rigorously historical account of the growth and expansion of the early church. Along the way he shows what the gospel has done. “A world from which the gospel had been banished would surely be one in which millions more of our fellows would go unfed, unnursed, unsheltered, and uneducated” (15). This is not a romantic claim, but a historical fact. He also attempts to show that many contemporary accounts of Christianity as nonsense are based on “extraordinarily bad arguments” because they are “driven by the precritical and irrational impulses of the purest kind of fideism” (19-20). See what I mean about a dictionary.

Ultimately, he wants to undermine the modern myth of freedom and progress as a farce. The story – “The story the modern world tells of itself now is the story of how we Westerners finally learned to be free, for the first time ever; and so it is also necessarily a story about the bondage from which we have escaped” (25). This story, he says, is grossly inaccurate. Many of the best ideals of modern culture are in fact taken from a Christian worldview without any thought as to how those ideals might be rooted in a coherent belief system. He suggests that the modern myth inevitably results in nihilism.

If you want to understand why serious Christian thinkers don’t take Dawkins and his ilk seriously read this book. If you want to understand the ethics of Christianity in a historical perspective read this book. If you want to read really good writing, read this book. Have I given you enough reasons yet?

The Physical Form of Early Christian Literature

2011-05-19T13:14:00.001-06:00

Along with thousands of other people, I received an E-reader device for Christmas last year (2010). Somewhat of an Amazon addict, I was more than happy with my Kindle. Still, I’m also a bit of a bibliophile. Despite my love for Kindle, the feel, smell, and look of a real book still lights my fire. I also find my interaction with the text of a printed book is different than that of the surprisingly book-like Kindle screen.

In many ways, contemporary readers are in a time of massive textual transition from printed and bound books to electronic texts. Print newspapers are dying out, magazines are being reinvented as web-based publications, and Amazon now sells more Kindles than anything else. Not to mention the rise of the blog. All of this prompts lots of questions about what the textual transition means. How does the form of a text influence how it is read, used, and valued? What unforeseen changes will electronic textuality bring about?

Now, consider how similar questions might be asked about the physical form of early Christian literature. For too long, scholars have failed to reflect on how the physical form of early Christian literature was different than modern print culture. This is unfortunate because as Harry Gamble observes, “All aspects of the production, distribution, and use of texts presuppose social functions and forces – functions and forces that are given representation, or inscribed, in the design of the text as a concrete, physical object” (43). Again, we return to Harry Gamble’s seminal book to describe the physical form of early Christian literature and its implications (chapter 2 of Books and Readers in the Early Church).

There are two significant textual transitions that are relevant to understanding ancient books. First, there was a shift from “the roll book (scroll) to the leaf book (codex), which transpired between the second and fourth centuries” (43). Second, to appreciate the modern reader’s distance from ancient book culture, the shift from handwritten books to printed books in the fifteenth century. In order to understand the first transition Gamble begins by describing the standard book form of Greco-Roman antiquity – the scroll.

Scrolls were typically manufactured out of either the papyrus or less commonly because of the cost parchment. Papyrus was produced mostly in Egypt from a papyrus plant found in marshes. Papyrus paper was produced by cutting the stalk of the plant into sections and then peeling the pith into strips. These strips would be laid side by side then overlaid with another crisscrossing layer of strips. The overlapping layers would be pressed together and dried into a single sheet (roughly 20-30 centimeters high and 18-20 centimeters wide). Then, about twenty sheets were glued together with the horizontal strips facing inward for writing. Producing parchment was more complex and expensive because it consisted of turning animal skins into a suitable writing surface. Papyrus was the standard until about the fourth century CE (47). During the beginnings of the early Christian movement, Jewish Torah scrolls were somewhat unique because they were commonly made of parchment rather than papyrus.

Typically, the inside of a scroll was the only part with writing on it. The text would be in columns ranging from 6-9 centimeters wide and 15-24 centimeters high (47). All of the texts were scriptio continua, that is “without divisions between words, without punctuation or accents, and without paragraphing, so that each column presented a monolith of characters” (48, pictured right with P46 an early manuscript of Paul’s letters).

Despite the almost ubiquitous use of scrolls in Greco-Roman and Jewish book production Christians stand out. “Almost without exception," the early Christians did not use "the papyrus roll," but rather "the papyrus codex, or leaf book” (49). This is really quite amazing. Prior to the third century CE, nearly 98% of Greek books are scrolls, but Christian texts from the same time are almost all codices. This shows that “early Christianity had an almost exclusive preference for the codex as the medium of its own writings and thus departed early and widely from the established bibliographic conventions of its environment” (49). This begs the question, why did Christians find it necessary to use such a radically different physical form for their literature?

(Codex Sinaiticus)

It is interesting that Gamble points out how the codex was regarded as a less proper form for a book. It was more akin to a modern “notebook” than a properly bound book of distinction (49-53). Why would Christians latch on to this improper form to produce their literature?

A number of possibilities have been suggested. First, it could have been motivated by economics. Gamble estimates that the cost of production for a codex was about 25% less than a scroll. So, some have suggested the early Christian predisposition for the codex was an attempt to produce texts while lacking sufficient resources to do so. This suggestion flounders somewhat because the codices themselves do not portray unusually poor quality of text production.

Second, it has been suggested that the primary motive for the codex was convenience. Much like the convenience of a modern e-reader, the codex was easier to use because it could be held in one hand. It was also significantly more compact (reducing the size of text by almost 50%). Codices could be more comprehensive containing large works in a single book, and easier to access at different points in a text. These conveniences are certainly notable, but the size of early Christian texts were generally not unwieldy enough to require a different form. As Gamble points out, “A gospel was brief enough to be easily contained in a roll of normal length, and as a narrative it was meant to be read from beginning to end” (63). Why then use the codex?

Gamble suggests that perhaps the predisposition for codices was the result of identifying with a Christian tradition – namely Paul’s letters. “Not only were Paul’s letters, so far as we know, the earliest Christian writings, they were also the earliest to be valued, imitated, to circulate beyond their original recipients, and to be collected” (58; cf. 2 Pet 3.15-16). A collection of Paul’s letters would have been most suitable in a codex form. The codex would allow a reader, for example, to conveniently begin with Colossians, a letter in the middle of the collection. In light of this tradition, a modified convenience/tradition theory makes the most sense of explaining why the early Christians used the codex as their book form of choice.

Unlike surrounding book culture, the early Christians were concerned to produce books that would be conveniently readable and accessible. It is also likely, that Christians were concerned to make books easy to travel. Following the missionary-letter-writing example of Paul, the early Christians used the codex as their primary means of producing books.

What do you think this says about how the early Christians read, used, and valued their books?

Rewritten Bible - the living word speaks again

2011-05-15T12:47:00.000-06:00

The Genesis Apocryphon consists of a series of first person accounts of the patriarchs Lamech (4QapGen 0-2.1-25), Enoch (3.3; 5.1-27), Noah (6.1-17.19) and Abraham (19.6-22.34). Unfortunately, the text is fragmentary so there are large sections missing. Still, a brief overview will provide a feel for the character of the text, with noted similarities to another book found among the DSS scrolls called Jubilees. This summary will focus on the portions of the book devoted to Lamech, Enoch and Noah with a subsequent post dedicated to Abraham.

The text begins after the corruption of the earth by the angelic “watchers” and the birth of their angel-human offspring – the Nephilim (4QapGen 0-1.29; cf. Gen 6.1-4). See, the story is already weird and interesting. Next, the text picks up with a frightening account of the birth of Lamech’s son Noah (4QapGen 2.1-18). While the text of Genesis provides us with only a brief mention of Lamech fathering Noah (Gen 5.28-31), the Genesis Apocryphon provides an intriguing back-story. Lamech is in turmoil because when he sees his son the baby is so glorious that Lamech assumes it must be the offspring of one of the Holy Ones or Nephilim (4QapGen 2.1). He questions his wife, who assures her husband that the child is his (2.3-18). Unconvinced, Lamech asks his father Methuselah to solicit the wisdom his grandfather Enoch (2.19-20) because the Holy Ones “reveal everything to him” (2.21). Here again we have an interesting tradition about Enoch as a mediator between God and men based on a unique description of the man in Genesis (Gen 5.21). Eventually, Lamech is reassured that Noah is in fact his progeny (4QapGen 5.24-27).

The scene shifts rather abruptly from Lamech to a first person account of Noah. Before the flood Noah practices righteousness (4QapGen 6.1-5; cf. Gen 6.9-13), follows certain marriage laws (4QapGen 6.6-10) and then receives a vision of the coming flood (6.11-26). The flood story is not mentioned, or lost, but the text does focus on Noah’s sacrifice after the flood as Torah obedient (10.11-17; cf. Jub. 6.1-3). The children of Noah’s sons are listed, which includes daughters who are unmentioned in the Genesis and Jubilees (4QapGen 12.8-12; cf. Jub. 7.18-19). Noah is also recorded as observing a Jewish calendar (4QapGen 12.13-18; cf. Jub. 7.1-6). The portrait of Noah, then, is of a man who is obedient to Torah practices that have not yet been given! As Jews reflected on what it meant for Noah to be described as “blameless in his generation” (Gen 6.9), they conceived of a man obeying Torah. Even after the flood, when Noah gets drunk (Gen 9.20-27), the Genesis Apocryphon focuses on how it is that Noah knew what Ham had done and thus apportioned the land according to a dream-vision. While passed-out drunk (cf. Gen 9.21-23; Jub. 7.7-13), Noah receives a vision that provides divine guidance regarding the land allotments of his sons (4QapGen 13.8-16.20). There is on condemnation of Noah’s actions, but only further explanation of how Noah’s sons divided the land as divinely ordained.

As Jewish readers read the stories of Genesis they had all kinds of questions that people still ask. They wanted to know more about Enoch, Lamech and Noah. So, with what preachers sometimes call a “sanctified imagination,” they filled in the gaps. They tried to describe what it might have looked like for Noah to be “blameless” and “righteous.” They tried to make sense of the odd description of Enoch as one who “walked with God.” They also used these retellings as exhortations. Not only was Noah righteous, but he was righteous in the way that we’re supposed to be righteous today – keeping Torah! Preachers do the same thing all the time. It’s one of the ways a good storyteller can make the Bible come alive in a new way.

Accessing the Dead Sea Scrolls

2011-05-14T12:19:00.000-06:00

The Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS) are surprisingly accessible. Unfortunately, they often go unread. Many people just don't care, but I would imagine there are a few interested parties that just have no idea how to gain access to these scrolls. There are two books in particular that unlock these ancient documents in readable English that was previously unavailable.

The Dead Sea Scrolls, translation by Wise, Abegg and Cook, provides very readable translations of the non-biblical scrolls. There are helpful introductions that show how these texts that don't appear in contemporary Bibles might be relevant to biblical texts.

The Dead Sea Scrolls Bible is an amazing tool. It provides a translation of OT texts from the DSS and footnotes wherever the DSS manuscripts differ from other OT manuscripts.

These resources are very helpful in two regards. First, they provide access to textual traditions that are much older than the best Hebrew manuscripts previously available. Before the DSS, scholars had to rely on the textual tradition of the Masoretic Text (MT), the Samaritan Pentateuch (SP), and a Greek translation of the OT known as the Septuagint (LXX). The MT is the standard for most English Bible translations today. The DSS, however, provide evidence that precedes the MT by almost 1,000 years!

Second, these resources show us how Jews were copying, reading and interpreting sacred texts around the same time as Jesus and Paul. It is interesting to note that the three most popular books among the DSS caches were Psalms (37 manuscripts), Deuteronomy (30 manuscripts) and Isaiah (21 manuscripts). These are also the most frequently cited OT books in the NT! Comparing these texts to the NT shows us how other Jews were interpreting the same books sometimes in similar ways and other times in radically different ways than the NT writers.

If you want access to some of the most popular writings and traditions circulating around the time of Jesus, read these books.

how much does your love cost?

2011-05-12T09:16:00.000-06:00

"Love Costs Everything" Trailer from CIY Move on Vimeo.

Why the Genesis Apocryphon Matters

2011-05-12T08:47:00.000-06:00

Over the last week or two, I’ve devoted quite a bit of time to translating portions of one of the earliest discovered texts of the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS) known as the “Genesis Apocryphon” (4QapGen). When people ask me what I’m doing and I tell them they usually think, and occasionally even ask, “Who cares about the Genesis Apocryphon?” In a sense, this question speaks to the value of the DSS as a whole.

First, the scrolls are interesting because they provide insight into an ancient culture. In this way the Genesis Apocryphon matters similarly to the way Tacitus’ writings matter. Historically speaking, then, the scrolls are one of the most important archeological finds of the 20^th century. Second, more than just providing information about history, the DSS illuminate the thought-world of Jews living near the time of Jesus and the earliest Christians. Debates about when exactly 4QapGen was written are unsettled, but the range is between the latter half of the first century BCE to the first half of the first century CE. Carefully reading this text and other DSS gives us information about what Jews around the time of Jesus thought, wrote, and believed. Third, the specific text of the Genesis Apocryphon, among other DSS, shows how some Jews read their scriptures. My main interest is here. What can the Genesis Apocryphon tell us about how Jews before or around the time of Jesus read scripture? Ultimately, this may show us how Jesus and Paul used scripture in similar or different ways than their contemporaries.

The Genesis Apocryphon uses scripture in a fascinating way. In this sense 4QapGen is an odd piece of literature. It is difficult to classify literarily because it follows the narratives of Genesis in terms of chronology and outline, but differs in details with numerous expansions and omissions from the text of Genesis itself. 4QapGen is too loose with the text of Genesis to be classified as a Targum (an Aramaic interpretation) and does not follow characteristic interpretive guidelines of exegesis focusing on a specific text to be described as “Midrash.” So years ago, the notable Jewish scholar Geza Vermes suggested the phrase “Rewritten Bible” as a form of Jewish interpretation that includes the Palestinian Targum, Josephus’ Antiquities, Pseudo-Philo’s Biblical Antiquities, Jubilees, and the Genesis Apocryphon.[1]

The phrase “Rewritten Bible” is helpful but also a bit anachronistic. The phrase is historically problematic because when the Genesis Apocryphon was written, and when Jesus walked, the Bible did not yet exist. This is not to say that the texts of the Pentateuch, prophets and writings did not exist, but that the concept of “Bible” was not yet a reality. So, we have to be careful about assuming too much how various Jewish works treat the texts which were later canonized and imbued with an elevated authority. That said, the phrase should probably not be abandoned.

The fact that a certain body of texts provided the literary concerns of people hundreds of years after those texts were written means something. The fact that those same texts were later officially canonized does not mean that the idea of sacred writing was not at work much earlier. There is not space to fully address these issues here, but the way in which Jewish literature focuses on Torah to provide a core identity and provide insight into divine activity in new historical situations means that they read this literature as something like what would later be called “Bible.”

More to come on this specific text, but first I want to open up some discussion on the DSS.

Do you think the DSS matter? Why? How can they be helpful?

What insights have you gleaned from the scrolls?

If you have had little or no interaction with the DSS, what questions do you have?

[1] Geza Vermes, Scripture and Tradition in Judaism, Studia Post-Biblica 4 (2^nd edt. Leiden: Brill, 1972) 67-126. Google preview here. I am following Daniel Machilea, “The Genesis Apocryphon (1Q20): A Reevaluation of its Text, Interpretive Character , and Relationship to the Book of Jubilees,” (PhD. Dissertation University of Notre Dame 2007) 7-8 available for free viewing here.

Acts as a Historical Source

2011-05-07T10:11:00.001-06:00

Despite all appearances to the contrary, I am still working my way through James Dunn’s Beginning from Jerusalem. I’m just doing it slowly.

In his second chapter (chapter 21 following Jesus Remembered), Dunn lists and evaluates the primary sources on earliest Christianity (30 to 70 CE). The bulk of the chapter is devoted to evaluating the earliest narrative of the church’s development – Acts of the Apostles.

Dunn’s analysis of Acts as a historical source begins by probing the authorship and date of the book. In just a few pages Dunn manages to weigh in on a variety of introductory issues. He, like most scholars, considers Acts to be a literary companion to the gospel of Luke based on the similar prologues (Lk 1.1-4; Acts 1.1-2), stylistic similarities, and significant literary parallels (e.g. Lk 3.21-22 \\ Acts 2.1-4; Lk 4.14-21 \\ Acts 2.14-39; 13.16-41; etc.). Like the gospels, there is no authorship ascribed to Acts and so we are left to evaluate early church tradition. Irenaeus is the earliest source to indicate that Luke/Acts was composed by Paul’s travelling companion Luke (Against Heresies, 3.1.1; cf. Muratorian Fragment 3-6; Col 4.14; 2 Tim 4.11). Whether or not this tradition is accurate, Dunn does not think the evidence is strong enough to say (65-66). But, he finds the “we” passages (Acts 16.10-17; 20.5-15; 21.8-18; 27.1-28.16) to be crucial in evaluating Acts as a source and indicates the author’s involvement in the events he describes. As one would expect, the suggestions about dating Acts range widely from before Paul’s death to well into the second century. Dunn, following Schnelle and Fitzmyer, opts for the 80s or early 90s.

Having described his view of the date and authorship, Dunn moves to the question of genre. He begins with the statement, “there is almost universal agreement, despite numerous qualifications, that [Acts] has to be accorded the title ‘history’ in at least some sense” (68). So, Acts is history, but in a highly qualified way. What are the necessary qualifications? Dunn suggests four helpful caveats for describing Acts as history. First, it is important to understand that there is “no single ideal type of ancient ‘historian’” (69). Luke was not following a standard literary form, but rather attempting “to tell the story of Christianity’s beginnings” (69). He may have followed some standard conventions, like including speeches, narrative summary statements and the like, but he was not rigidly following or attempting to follow a standard historical form.

Second, Acts as history does not depend on literary sources. This is surprising in light of the Luke’s obvious use of source-material in composing his gospel. Dunn draws the conclusion that, “Luke’s sources [in composing Acts] were seldom literary and probably much more a matter of reports made personally to Luke” (70). I think this observation raises some interesting questions about the overconfidence of source critical assumptions in regard to the gospels, but more to the point, it speaks to Acts as a different kind of literature than the gospels. Unlike stories about Jesus, a narrative of the early church was not a common literary concern in the first century. “Acts” literature does not become common until the second and third centuries. This might suggest that since Acts was not the kind of literature with which Christians were typically concerned, it was written for a more practical purpose – to tell the story of what happened after Jesus’ ascension.

Third, scholars have longed framed the evaluation of Acts as a literary source by asking whether it is history or theology. Indeed, “the working assumption evidently was that Acts could not be both history and theology without the history being diminished or corrupted” (70-71). This false dichotomy is an unfortunate bias of modern historiography that attempts to scientifically retell “just the facts.” There is no reason why Acts cannot be both theology and history. As Dunn argues, “Modern historians [. . . ] are hardly less biased, tendentious and rhetorical [. . .] in their reconstructions and portrayals of characters and events than ancient historians” (71-72). The time has long since passed that the history vs. theology dichotomy be dispensed once and for all.

Fourth, Dunn observes that describing Acts as “history” does mean that it meets modern standards of historical writing. The ancient world had different measures of history. This is not to suggest that ancient historians were less concerned with “what happened,” but rather to observe that modern historians have the benefit of “extensive source material and more refined methods” (72). Ancient history-writing was a different kind of thing than modern work, but that does not mean it is worthless history. According to Dunn, it does mean that uncritical acceptance of everything written is probably naïve.

So, Dunn considers Acts to be history, but how accurate? In his view, Acts is quite accurate history. Dunn sees accuracy reflected in Luke’s concern to tell what happened (Lk 1.1-4; Acts 1.1-2) and his access to eyewitness accounts of Paul, Silas (Acts 16.10-17), Philip (Acts 21.8, 10), Agabus (Acts 21.10) and surely others. In Dunn’s estimation, “Luke both had personal involvement with Paul’s mission and [. . .] he was able to draw on first-hand (eyewitness) reports for at least much of the substance of the earlier episodes which he narrates in Acts” (76). Dunn also finds a high degree of “concurrence between Acts and data from Paul’s letters” (77). Numerous non-biblical sources also support Luke’s account. On all these counts, then, Luke demonstrates both concern for accuracy and corroborating evidence.

Despite the historical value of Acts, it also demonstrates literary and theological tendencies. Dunn observes how Luke’s primary concern is the outworking of God’s purpose. Furthermore, Acts is concerned to parallel the gospel of Luke, as well as highlight the similarities in Peter and Paul’s respective ministries. Dunn sees Luke indulging in certain literary freedoms such as idealizing the first Christian communities (Acts 2.41-47; 4.32-35), telescoping events, smoothing out relations between Paul and the Jerusalem church (esp. Acts 9.23-30), and ignoring Paul’s letter-writing activity. Dunn also thinks that Luke accepts miraculous accounts “in an uncritical way” (cf. Acts 2.43; 4.30; 5.12; 6.8; 8.13; 14.3; 15.12). I wonder if Dunn would extend this criticism to the accounts of Jesus’ miraculous activity, or even what criteria define an ancient’s “critical evaluation” of miraculous accounts? Despite these tendencies, Dunn concludes his evaluation of historicity, “It is of first importance in all this that we neither attribute to Luke an unrealistically idealistic quality as an ancient historian nor assume that his mistakes and Tendenzen [tendencies] show him to be unworthy of the title ‘historian’” (87).

Though a fitting conclusion to his argument, Dunn goes on to evaluate “the most sensitive area of unease over Luke’s portrayal of Christian origins” – namely the speech material (87). Composing roughly 30 % of the book, the speeches constitute a major portion of Acts and carry the theological freight. How do Luke’s speeches fit ancient historiographical standards that vary from great creativity (compare Josephus, JW 1.373-79 & Ant. 15.127-46) to rigorous effort “to give the general import of what was actually said” (Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War 1.22, cited by Dunn 88)? Dunn thinks that Luke has done pretty well drawing from traditions while obviously demonstrating his own literary concerns.

This line of argument raises an important question. How is it that we can differentiate between Luke’s literary concerns and earlier tradition? Dunn goes about this by assuming an early imminent eschatology that eventually tapers off, as well as a low Christology that eventually becomes high. This approach seems suspect to me. It’s not that I doubt eschatology and Christology developed, for I’m sure they did. Rather, I question our ability to observe when this happened as though it were simply an evolutionary development. I question our ability to put firm dates on material based on its theology, especially within a single literary composition. I think Dunn has provided an important question in evaluating the creativity of Luke’s speeches, but I wonder if there is not a better method by which to determine what is “tradition” and what is “Lukan.”

As usual, Dunn has provided a sober reading of the evidence. Acts is a good historical source, but that does not mean it fell from heaven. It demonstrates theological and literary concerns that at times override historical interests.

Jesus' Parables as Revealed Wisdom

2011-05-06T13:08:00.001-06:00

The commission of Isaiah is a favorite text for a missions sermons. After Isaiah witnesses a glorious vision of God in the temple he hears the fateful question, “Who will I send and who will go for me?” (Isa 6.8). Like a child desperate to please his teacher Isaiah responds, “Look at me! Send me!” The prophet should have waited to hear the message he would be commissioned to give,

Go and say to this people, ‘Surely hearing you will not discern, and surely seeing you will not know.’ Make the heart of this people fat and their ears heavy and their eyes blind lest they see with their eyes and hear with their ears and discern with their hearts and turn and it will heal them. (Isa 6.9-10)

This is a foreboding commission. Isaiah is not called guide Israel to repentance but to turn people away! He alludes to covenant language of Israel’s stubborn refusal to obey God resulting in a divine curse (esp. Exod 15.26; Deut 32.15). The tragedy of this commission, however, is that Isaiah’s call is to announce the curse.

I sometimes hear people say things like, “Well, that’s in the Old Testament so . . .” and then go on to give some explanation as to why the OT is basically irrelevant for Christians. Even if we wanted to dismiss this text as being so “Old Testament,” we couldn’t. Jesus cites Isaiah’s commission to explain his most characteristic form of teaching – parables. Shockingly, Jesus found this message to be a useful explanation of his own ministry. Before Jesus’ citation makes sense there are some important features of Isaiah’s commission that need to be observed.

Typically, call stories are placed at the beginning of a prophetic book (cf. Jer 1.4-19; Ezek 1.1-3.15; Hos 1.1-3). This prompts the question as to why Isaiah’s call is belated to chapter 6. This peculiarity is a reminder that chapter 6 cannot be understood apart from the state of the people to whom Isaiah is called to prophesy. Apart from the context of Isaiah 1-5, the commission seems arbitrarily harsh. How dare God send a prophet to turn people away? In chapters 1-5 the larger picture comes into focus. Isaiah is called to a people who have refused to acknowledge their God (Isa 1.2-3; 2.6-8; 5.11-12), worship improperly (Isa 1.11-14; 3.8-9) and engaged in terrible injustices (Isa 1.15, 21-23; 3.11, 14-15; 5.18-23). Yet, God has graciously promised restoration (Isa 1.18-20, 26-27; 2.1-5; 4.2-6; 6.13b). In light of Israel’s offense and stubborn refusal to repent, the commission is God’s response to an unrepentant people.

The historical context of Isaiah’s prophetical call is relevant to understanding the passage. Isaiah 6.1 explicitly observes a significant chronological marker with the death of Uzziah (c. 739 bc). Early in his reign Uzziah prospered significantly (2 Chron 26.5). He was notable for his military conquests (2 Chron 26.6-8), building projects (2 Chron 26.9-10) and advanced weaponry (2 Chron 26.14-15). Later, however, he was afflicted with leprosy because of his arrogance (26.16-18) and rampant idolatry (2 Kgs 15.4-5). The Bible describes the latter part of his reign and co-regency with his son Jotham (2 Kgs 15.32-38; 1 Chron 27) as characterized by rampant economic injustice (Isa 1.4, 5, 23; cf. Amos 2.6; 5.10, 11) and a broken covenant relationship (Isa 1.3; cf. Hos. 4.6). It was in this context of economic prosperity and spiritual turmoil that the king died. Simultaneously, Assyria was rapidly rising to political dominance. As if these challenges were not enough, the king’s death left a vacuum of political leadership and looming political dangers from neighboring countries (cf. Isa 7.1-2). Israel was on the brink of political disaster and Isaiah is called to tell them there is nothing they can do to stop it.

The foreboding message of Isaiah’s commission is taken up in all four gospels as an explanation for why Jesus is rejected (Mt 13.10-15|| Mk 4.10-12 || Lk 8.10; cf. Jn 12.36-43; Acts 28.26-27). Matthew provides the lengthiest explanation (13.10-15) at a crucial point in his gospel. Matthew’s citation follows the LXX exactly, which in turn follows the MT fairly closely. Jesus explains that the reason for Jesus’ parables is to “completely fulfill” Isaiah 6.9-10 (Mt 13.14). Jesus’ disciples, unlike those who do not “hear,” are privileged insiders because of Jesus’ willingness to reveal himself to them (13.16-17). Parables, then, simultaneously reveal to insiders and conceal to outsiders. Jesus even says that he tells parables to intentional confuse outsiders.

The obvious question, then, is what differentiates insiders from outsiders? In Matthew’s gospel, the revelation of kingdom mysteries is given to those who are close to Jesus (Mt 13.11; cf. 12.15-21; 16.16-20), accept his authority (Mt 11.25-30; cf. 12.7-8; 16.1-4), and have faith (Mt 9.29-30; 16.8-11). Still, this revelation is portrayed as a divine gift first and foremost. This is especially evident in Peter’s confession of Jesus’ identity, which is not revealed “by flesh and blood” but by God (Mt 16.17). Even when God gives grace to insiders, they do not always fully comprehend. Again, Peter is the prime example. After the great confession Peter refuses to accept Jesus’ announcement of his impending death, thus he is described as “Satan” focused on “the things of man” (16.21-23). The difference between insiders and outsiders is their willingness to follow Jesus as divine wisdom exemplified in the cross rather than the wisdom of man.

Jesus used Isaiah’s foreboding commission to describe his own ministry as the revelation of God that separates God’s true people from those that are not. It is interesting that Isaiah’s commission ends with the vague hope that God will preserve a holy seed (Isa 6.13b). This promise, though not cited by Jesus, is fulfilled by him. His ministry divides the true people of God from hypocrites who honor God with their lips but not their lives (Isa 29.13 in Mt 15.8-9). In Matthew’s gospel Jesus is the promised “Immanuel” child (Isa 7.14 in Mt 1.23), the light among darkness (Isa 9.1-2; 42.7 in Mt 4.14-16), and the anointed “servant” (Isa 42.1-3 in Mt 12.17-21) who heals (Isa 53.4 in Mt 8.17). The gospel writers faithfully appropriate Isaiah 6, but place Jesus as the center of its eschatological fulfillment. Matthew intentionally describes Jesus as the hope of Israel. Just as in Isaiah, the reason why people reject Jesus is the refusal of an unrepentant people to recognize God’s revelation.

Literacy and Culture in Early Christianity

2011-04-30T09:38:00.001-06:00

Gamble begins his first chapter with an intriguing quote from Origen. Perhaps the greatest biblical scholar of the early church, Origen was defending the scriptures from the accusation of being literarily lackluster. He did not defend the gospels as masterpieces of literature, but rather argued,

It was not any power of speaking, or any orderly arrangement of their message, according to the arts of Grecian dialectics or rhetoric, which was in them the effective cause of converting their hearers. Nay, I am of opinion that if Jesus had selected some individuals who were wise according to the apprehension of the multitude, and who were fitted both to think and speak so as to please them, and had used such as the ministers of His doctrine, He would most justly have been suspected of employing artifices, like those philosophers who are the leaders of certain sects, and consequently the promise respecting the divinity of His doctrine would not have manifested itself; for had the doctrine and the preaching consisted in the persuasive utterance and arrangement of words, then faith also, like that of the philosophers of the world in their opinions, would have been through the wisdom of men, and not through the power of God. (Against Celsus 1.62)

Origen goes on to quote Paul’s response to his cultured Corinthian despisers (1 Cor 2.4-5). Similarly, Acts portrays the apostles as “unlettered and uneducated” (Acts 4.13). Origen did not disagree with Celsus’ assessment of the literary quality of early Christian literature. Instead, like Paul and Luke, he evaluated it as a testament to the divine power behind the movement.

Despite the response of a highly educated man many years later, one has to wonder about the literary culture of the early Christians. Harry Gamble raises three pertinent questions, “First, to what extent were the skills of literacy available within early Christianity, and what role did literacy play in Christian life? Second, how far did early Christians depend upon texts? Third, how are Christian texts to be understood in relation to the literature of the larger society of which the early church was a part?” (2). His first chapter in Books and Readers in the Early Church thoughtfully addresses these questions.

The question of early Christian literacy is immediately complicated by competing conceptions of “literacy.” The contemporary world is highly textual. The technology of the printing press was only more radically intensified with the advent of the internet. So, it is difficult for those of us in the information age to appreciate the lack of textual familiarity in the largely oral culture of the first century. Still, it is important to recognize that “literacy,” was both extremely rare and widely varied. It was rare in the sense that most people could not read. It was varied in that “literacy” could describe one’s ability to read a simple text aloud or the skills to compose lengthy texts.

The typical estimate of literacy, broadly defined as “the ability to read or write at any level” (4) was only about 10 percent of society at large. The lack of any widespread educational system meant literacy was limited to the elite. Thus a small movement composed largely of the non-elite would have been even less literate. A number of descriptions among the church fathers seem to imply that the vast majority of believers were not among the educated elite. Consider for example, Tertullian’s description of how believers struggled with the doctrine of the Trinity, “the simple, indeed, (I will not call them unwise and unlearned) who always constitute the majority of believers” (Against Praxeas 3). Or again, Origen in response to Celsus,

Although, among the multitude of converts to Christianity, the simple and ignorant necessarily outnumbered the more intelligent, as the former class always does the latter, yet Celsus . . . himself admits that it was not the simple alone who were led by the doctrine of Jesus to adopt His religion; for he acknowledges that there were amongst them some persons of moderate intelligence, and gentle disposition, and possessed of understanding, and capable of comprehending allegories. (Against Celsus, 1.27).

Even Paul indicates the general low status of the Corinthian community (1 Cor 1.26; 2.8). This leads Gamble to the sober conclusion, “not only the writing of Christian literature, but also the ability to read, criticize, and interpret it belonged to a small number of Christians in the first several centuries, ordinarily not more than about 10 percent in any given setting, and perhaps fewer in the many small provincial congregations that were characteristic of early Christianity” (5).

This does not mean that the early Christians lacked familiarity with texts. Christian communities were unique among ancient religions in their focus on texts. Gamble thinks it quite likely that some level of literacy was a requirement of early Christian leaders (Acts 18.24; 1 Tim 4.13; cf. 1 Clement; Ignatius’ letters; Polycarp to Phil.; Papias of Heirapolis). Thus, despite low levels of literacy, “Every Christian had the opportunity to become acquainted with Christian literature, especially the scriptures, through catechetical instruction and the reading and homiletical exposition of texts in the context of worship” (10). Literacy, then, was not widespread in early Christianity, but was common among leaders who then made texts available to their communities via public reading.

New Testament scholarship is a discipline weaned on form criticism and its assumptions about the development of NT literature. One of the primary assumptions is a sharp distinction between oral and textual transmission of tradition. Gamble argues that this assumption is misguided. Thus old distinctions between literature proper and early Christian texts as crude written compilations of oral stories simply do not hold water (11-20). Furthermore, “No Greco-Roman religious group produced, used, or valued texts on a scale comparable to Judaism and Christianity, so that apart from Jewish literature, there is no appreciable body of religious writings with which early Christian literature can be fruitfully compared” (18). As far as the evidence indicates, Christians and Jews were uniquely dependent on texts as part of their religious identity.

Recognizing the paucity of comparable evidence, one of the immediately obvious facts about early Christian literature is its interaction with the Old Testament. “From the beginning Christianity was deeply engaged in the interpretation and appropriation of texts. That activity presupposed not only a mature literacy but also sophisticated scribal and exegetical skills” (27). Thus, again we see a Christian predisposition to value texts.

But overall, how does early Christian literature fit into its first century environment? First, the language of the NT seems to be significantly influenced by Semitic grammatical oddities. This is probably explained by the fact that the NT writers were Jewish and deeply indebted to the Greek version of the OT (LXX). What about the fact that NT Greek lacks the poetic literary methods of historians and philosophers? Studies have shown that this is not a vulgar Greek but rather the language “commonly used by scholars with scientific and humanistic interests,” like pharmacology, astronomy and mathematics (33). Thus, the NT language “was not the classicizing Greek of arts and letters, nor was it popular Greek, but the professional prose of the day” (34).

Second, there is the observation that early Christian literature employs common features of ancient rhetoric. Indeed, “most Christian writers of the second through the fifth centuries were practiced in the rhetorical arts” (35). Likewise, Paul seems to be a capable rhetorician in his letters, though this is widely debated among scholars. There has been much work on rhetorical criticism of the NT since Gamble’s work was published so this point is only stated most generally.

Third, the genres of the NT are quite unique. The gospels fit awkwardly among Greco-Roman biographic literature but there is little else to compare them. The numerous letters show affinity with ancient epistolary conventions but substantially differ in length and content. Historical narrative of Acts broadly fits among historical literature, but is narrow in its focus on Peter and Paul. Apocalyptic, “the most identifiably Jewish” (38) genre, is set apart by its focus on Jesus. NT literature is not generically similar to extant Greco-Roman literature from the first century.

Gamble thus concludes, “For axiomatic as it may be that Christians wrote for practical rather than aesthetic purposes, there is in writing that intends to teach and persuade both the opportunity and the need for literary skill, skill that must have been available to Christianity from its birth” (39). As Christianity grew and spread so did its literary capacity eventually producing Origen, Augustine, the Cappadocians and others. Yet the first Christian educated people were primarily converts who put their literary skills to work for the cause of Christ.

Festschrift for Robert Lowery

2011-04-23T13:27:00.000-06:00

Unfortunately, Dr. Robert Lowery is largely unknown in the world of New Testament Scholarship.

Thankfully, he is a widely recognized teacher in the independent Christian church and mentor to hundreds of seminary students throughout his thirty-five year teaching career. Whenever I teach on Revelation, or people find out I'm a seminary student at Lincoln Christian University, the question is inevitably asked, "Do you know Dr. Lowery?" His influence is palpable among parishioners and their pastors throughout the Christian church.

Only in the last five years has Dr. Lowery sought to publish the fruit of his life-long study of Revelation. It's not that Dr. Lowery is not capable of writing well, though if you asked him he'd probably say it isn't his primary gift. Rather, he made a conscious choice for his primary investment to be his students. In the contemporary climate of higher education with a "publish or perish" mentality, the ideal teaching position usually entails as little interaction with students as possible. Much the contrarian in this regard, Dr. Lowery has always seen his primary investment to be the people he trains to read and teach scripture for the church. It is only fitting, then, that his legacy be celebrated with a book of essays, many written by his former students, providing insight into John's Apocalypse.

Dragons, John, and Every Grain of Sand is edited by Shane J. Wood, a Ph.D candidate at the University of Edinburgh and recently appointed professor of New Testament at Ozark Christian College. Shane is a fine scholar, gifted preacher and engaging teacher. He has also compiled an interesting collection of essays dedicated to his mentor. The book is neatly divided into three sections, (1) "Dragons" - general studies in Revelation, (2) "John" - difficult texts in Revelation, and (3) "Every Grain of Sand" - application of Revelation. Contributers include such notables as Craig A. Evans, Craig L. Blomberg, I. Howard Marshall (Lowery's doktorvater), and Mark E. Moore, among many others. The goal of the book is to honor Dr. Lowery by doing what he spent his life working on -- hearing and heeding the book of Revelation.

I highly recommend you pick up the book here.I'll be featuring reviews of some of the chapters in the next few weeks. Free to read along and engage the mystery of John's Revelation.

Early Christian Readers

2011-04-20T22:40:00.000-06:00

How was early Christian literature made? Who read it? In what circumstances were Christian books read? How did they compare to other ancient books in physical form, literary quality and reading function? The significance of these questions is often overlooked. In fact, in the many NT classes I have taken both at the undergraduate and graduate level, rarely have these questions been addressed.

It is precisely to these questions that Harry Gamble attends in his masterful, Books and Readers in the Early Church: A History of Early Christian Texts. The goal of the book is to provide “a history of early Christian texts” (x). It is a difficult history to write. Early Christian writers give few details regarding the production, circulation and use of their literature because they assumed the process to be common knowledge. Rather than seek to answer these questions by focusing on a specific geographic region or time frame, Gamble attempts to provide a portrait of the entire landscape of the literary culture of the burgeoning Christian movement in the first five centuries.

Gamble’s study includes five chapters:

1. Literacy and Culture in Early Christianity

2. The Early Christian Book

3. The Publication and Circulation of Early Christian Literature

4. Early Christian Libraries

5. The Uses of Early Christian Books

In each chapter Gamble seeks to answer his questions by first placing them in the larger context of Jewish and Greco-Roman literary culture. He then, as far as possible, compares what we know about literacy and books with what is evidenced among the early Christians. The result is a fantastically insightful book. In light of this book’s significance I will provide a review of each chapter in a series of upcoming posts. Stay tuned. Larry Hurtado thinks Gamble’s book “ought to be required for any PhD student in the field.” You will want to know why.

Stake Repost: Confusing Allegiance

2011-04-20T10:58:00.000-06:00

I have been noticeably absent from posting here because I've been involved in a post I did for another blog journal. I'm reposting it here to see what kind of response it gets.

A few weeks ago a couple of concerned church members approached a minister on staff about the “shameful” state of the tattered American flag that flies near the entrance to the church building. They were kind enough to purchase a replacement, though they were not happy to see the flag in such disrepair.

Typically I would be oblivious to the whole situation, but the Senior Adults Minister asked me to help him change the flag. I am more than willing to help with chores here and there around the church, but this raised a theological dilemma. I have serious doubts that an American flag, or any nation’s flag for that matter, should be flown by a church.

The flag was going to go up anyway and the other pastor needed my help, so I consented. As we went about our work I was instructed that the flag cannot touch the ground lest it be defiled. I was also informed that the worn out flag would be given to some veterans to be “properly disposed of” – whatever that means. As we pulled down the old flag, carefully wrapping it up, I felt like I was doing something wrong.

I’ve been lambasted for opposing nationalism at a previous church so I was hesitant to say anything. With much trepidation, I casually began to talk about my issue with the flag flown by a church. It’s not that I’m anti-American. I cheer for America in the Olympics, eat apple pie and enjoy a good football game. I just don’t think the American flag has any place in the church. I would feel the same about an English, Chinese, Australian, or South African flag.

The problem is not separating Church and State. The idea of separating Church and State is an invention of the modern world. It assumes that the church does not have much to do with everyday life—a foreign concept to Jesus. My problem with flying an American flag is that it is a symbol of allegiance to a nation. The allegiance of believers belongs to God. St. John described the Roman Empire as a “beast” that blasphemes God and arrogantly demands allegiance that belongs to the Almighty (Rev 13:1-9). John reminds us that often nations compete for allegiance that belongs to God.

To my surprise the Senior’s Minister responded gracefully, “Well, I can certainly understand what you mean. I served a church that was near a military base once. They had difficulty distinguishing between God’s work and America.”

I was thankful for his response, but my dilemma is more significant. The Senior’s Minister reminded me that none of these concerned members would say that she actually worships America or that he would place his national allegiance before loyalty to God. Of course not, but sin is deceptive. I fear that we have already begun to worship America when we think the flag ought to be in a church. Why else place a symbol of allegiance in a place of worship?

Compare, for example, how we treat the American flag to the elements of the Eucharist – both symbols of allegiance to political entities. The flag cannot touch the ground and must be disposed of appropriately by its guardians. The bread of the body of Christ is thrown into the trash can in the kitchen along with dirty paper towels and rotten leftovers. The juice of his blood is poured down the drain along with soap suds and crumby remnants rinsed off plates and greasy pans. What does that say about our allegiance?

Yes, I have read Jesus’ response to the Pharisees’ loaded question about taxation (Mt 22:15-22 || Mk 12:13-17 || Lk 20.20-26). The crux of his response is the pithy statement, “Give back to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and the things of God to God” (Mt 22:21). However this passage might be interpreted, it is abundantly clear that Jesus is not suggesting that Caesar needs to be represented in worship. If anything, Jesus’ response prompts reflection about the limits of what ought to be given to Caesar in a world that belongs to God.

I recommend that you read the ensuing comment thread at stake.

My First Academic Presentation

2011-03-25T15:38:00.001-06:00

I am very excited to have been chosen to present my paper on 2 Thessalonians 2.1-17 at the upcoming Stone-Campbell Journal Conference. This is my first academic presentation so I feel both honored to have been chosen to present and a bit nervous. Needless to say, it should be a great learning experience.

The theme of the conference is, "Extraordinary: the body, miracles and demons." There will be presentations of notable scholars Luke Timothy Johnson, Loren Stuckenbruck and Barry L. Blackburn among others.

OT Apocrypha in the Early Church

2011-03-18T13:37:00.001-06:00

The post-apostolic church fathers were well aware of the apocrypha.[1] It is difficult to suggest, however, that their use of these books goes much beyond appreciative awareness or theological agreement. Clement of Rome (c. 90-95) alludes to Sirach and Wisdom, but only cites Wisdom (12.12) once and there is no indication that he is citing the text as authoritative so much as he agrees with the description of God found therein (1 Clem. 27.5). He also makes no distinction between the faithful examples of biblical Esther and nonbiblical Judith (1 Clem. 55.4-6), thus indicating his knowledge and appreciation of the story. When apocryphal texts do appear in the Apostolic Fathers, which is rare, they are similar to what is found in 1 Clement. The Epistle of Barnabas (c. 70-132) is unique in citing 4 Ezra as a “prophet” (Barn. 12.1). Overall, use of the apocrypha is quite limited among second century texts and only the Epistle of Barnabas cites these texts as inspired scripture.

There are two interesting and somewhat opposing examples of canon lists among the early church fathers. First, there was Origen (c. 185-254) who is without a doubt the most important biblical scholar in the early church. He differentiated between canonical books read in public worship from apocryphal writings which were not valued as highly (Comm. in Matt. 10.18, 13.57). Still, according to Eusebius (HE 6.25.1-2), Origen included Epistle of Jeremiah and 1-2 Maccabees in his canonical list. For the most part, however, it seems that Origen followed the typical twenty-two book Jewish canon.

The second important figure for canon definition was Augustine (c. 354-430). He is arguably the most important theologian of the post-apostolic early church. He included Job, Tobit, Esther, Judith, 1-2 Maccabees, 1-2 Esdras as well as Wisdom and Sirach in his canonical list (On Christian Doctrine, 2.13). He also accepted additions to Daniel and Esther, Baruch and the Epistle of Jeremiah. Interestingly enough, Augustine recognized that Wisdom and Sirach were contested books but vaguely stated, “they have merited being received as authoritative.” His canonical list was far more inclusive, but did not win the day.

What did it mean for a canon list to “win the day”? Sometimes this process is falsely portrayed as the decision of a few bishops imposing their will on the wider church. In reality, “the church councils of the fourth and fifth centuries acknowledged those books that had already obtained prominence form widespread usage among the various Christian churches in their areas.”[2] The councils recognized the books that the churches were already reading in worship as authoritative scripture. They did not invent a canon but recognized it.

It was not until the protestant Reformation that the value of the apocrypha came under dispute. Because of Luther’s doctrine of sola scriptura he was forced to clearly define what counted as “scripture.” His measure of evaluation was rather ambiguously defined as, “what promotes Christ.”[3] He opposed the doctrines of purgatory and prayer for the dead, which he saw in 2 Maccabees 12.44-45. In his German translation of the OT Luther placed the apocrypha in a separate section and described them as, “Books which cannot be reckoned with the canonical books and yet are useful and good for reading.”[4] Eventually, Protestant Bibles excluded the books altogether because they added to publisher’s costs.

In response to Luther’s placement of the apocrypha the Roman Catholic Church officially canonized the apocryphal books at the Council of Trent (1546). It was not that these books were never recognized as important and then added willy-nilly. On the contrary, the church always possessed and valued these books as sacred literature. It was not necessary to formally canonize them until the catholic counter-reformation.

[1] This list of books typically includes: 1 Esdras, 2 Esdras, Tobit, Judith, Additiosn to Esther, Wisdom of Solomon, Ecclesiasticus (or Sirach), Baruch, Epistle of Jeremiah, Prayer of Azariah and the Song of the Three, Susanna, Bel and the Dragon, Prayer of Manesseh, 1-4 Maccabees, Psalm 151.

[2] Lee Martin McDonald, The Biblical Canon: Its Origin, Transmission, and Authority, (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2007) 209.

[3] Daniel J. Harrington, “The Old Testament Apocrypha in the Early Church and Today,” The Canon Debate, eds. Lee Martin McDonald and James A. Sanders (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2002) 205.

[4] David deSilva, “Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha,” Dictionary of New Testament Background, eds. Craig A. Evans and Stanley E. Porter (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2000) 59.

Translation Issue - 2 Timothy 3.16

2011-03-11T17:01:00.003-06:00

In preparing an article on OT canon I looked at 2 Timothy 3.14-17. This is the standard proof-text for biblical inspiration. A text, by the way, that focuses on the OT but is usually misunderstood to refer to the whole Bible which did not yet exist. While looking at the text I noticed something I had never seen before. The passage might well be translated differently and thus provide more insight into what Paul meant.

The context reads:

¹⁴ But you remain in what you have learned and believed, knowing from whom you learned, ¹⁵and that from infancy you have known the holy Scriptures – those being able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.

And the translation issue comes in verse 16. For those interested the Greek text (NA²⁷) reads,

πᾶσα γραφὴ θεόπνευστος καὶ ὠφέλιμος πρὸς διδασκαλίαν, πρὸς ἐλεγμόν, πρὸς ἐπανόρθωσιν, πρὸς παιδείαν τὴν ἐν δικαιοσύνῃ

Most popular translations (NIV, ESV, NRSV, etc.) read something like:

All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness

But, the text could just as easily read (ASV, RSV and footnoted in the NRSV):

All God-breathed scripture is also useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness.

Grammatically, both readings are possible since there is no copulative verb. Those advocating the former reading (NIV, etc.) often point to 1 Timothy 4.4 as a similar grammatical construction:

πᾶν κτίσμα θεοῦ καλὸν καὶ οὐδὲν ἀπόβλητον μετὰ εὐχαριστίας λαμβανόμενον

All of God’s creation is good and nothing is rejected having been received with thanksgiving.

This parallel also has no copulative verb (that is a verb linking the subject to the predicate) between “creation” (subject) and “good” (predicate) but it makes good sense of the text. The parallel does not prove anything about 2 Tim 3.16, except that supplying a copulative verb is a possible interpretation.

Since both translations are grammatically possible, the real question is which reading is contextually superior? In light of Paul’s overarching point to exhort Timothy to put scripture to use (2 Tim 3.17; 4.1-2), I would lean toward not supplying a verb. Paul’s point is not to argue for the inspiration of scripture. He already believes scripture is inspired by God (Rom 3.1-2; 9.4; 2 Cor 6.16; cf. 2 Pet 1.20-21). Indeed, the phrase “holy writings” [ἱερὰ γράμματα] from v 14 was used by both Philo and Josephus to describe the divine inspiration of the OT scriptures (Philo, Abr. 61; Preliminary Studies 34, 90; Decalogue 8; Flight 4; Creation 77; Heir. 106, 159 [citing Gen 1.31]; Spec. Laws 2.104; Josephus, Ag. Apion 2.45). The words of 2 Peter 1.21 are instructive for the general view of the "holy writings" in Second Temple Judaism,

For no prophecy was ever driven by the will of man, but being driven by the Holy Spirit men spoke from God.

This is not to suggest that the inspiration of certain holy writings was not important to Paul. Undoubtedly, he assumed the inspiration of scripture. Paul has no need to convince or remind Timothy of the divine inspiration of the “holy writings,” but rather to remind him that those “God-breathed” writings are useful for the work of his ministry. Rather than reading this verse as a proof-text for inspiration this ought to be yet another reminder that Paul used his Bible as a powerful tool for ministry.

What do you think? How does the translation difference change how you read this passage?

Heretics?

2011-02-28T16:35:00.001-06:00

A few years back I did an intense study of Galatians that left me with a lot of unanswered questions I’m still wrestling through. One thing is clear, however, from the very beginning of the impassioned letter. Paul believes that those who distort the “gospel” are anathema or “accursed” (Gal 1.6-9) – the same word that appears in the LXX to describe those “devoted to destruction” in the conquest narratives (Josh 6.17, 18; 7.1; etc.). This kind of language was not very nice. Paul is fighting with full rhetorical fury.

Today, instead of anathema we fight with the word “heretic.” There are two examples of folks who have recently come under the ire of evangelical Christians (I don’t intend that to be a pejorative category). First, there was a recent article published at CNN.com about the controversial Jesus Seminar scholar John Dominic Crossan. I remember when I first stumbled across Crossan’s work on Jesus. I thought it was fascinating, incredibly insightful and dreadfully wrong at a number of points. His view of Jesus as a subversive non-violent healer is firmly rooted in history, and while I disagree with his theology and Christology, I find that learning from him is quite beneficial. I would not want Crossan’s to be the only book people read about Jesus, or even the primary introduction, but I do think he has a lot to teach people about Jesus.

The second, and probably more popular guy to be called a heretic is the pastor Rob Bell. I first encountered Rob listening to sermons while I was in high school. I found his creative teaching style fascinating. Even though I later learned that his use of historical background material is occasionally wrong (as probably some of all our teaching is), overall he does an excellent job of making the words, teaching and life of Jesus interesting and relevant to contemporary culture.

So why do so many Christians think Bell is a heretic? Sarah Pulliam Bailey has a nice little article about the controversy here. Basically, the issue boils down to the fact that some think Rob’s God is too inclusive – even though they haven’t actually heard what he’s said yet!

Check out the promo video of his forthcoming book:

Let’s remember that in Galatians Paul is engaged in a family fight. His problem is with people who are distorting the gospel by excluding some from the family of God because they aren’t circumcised. Paul thinks the Galatians are being too exclusive. He calls the Galatians to pay attention to the Holy Spirit (Gal 3.1-3). Where in all this is the Spirit of God moving?

What do you think? Are these guys heretics? If they are can we still learn from them?

Wright's Missional Hermeneutic

2011-02-24T18:58:00.002-06:00

“It is possible, is it legitimate, is it helpful for Christians to read the whole Bible from the angle of mission? And what happens if they do?” (531). These are the driving questions of Christopher J. H. Wright’s, The Mission of God: Unlocking the Bible’s Grand Narrative. Wright insists that this is not another book attempting to encourage those already engaged in mission or guiltily motivate the unmoved. Instead of an apologetic for missions which usually amounts to “searching the Scriptures for a biblical foundation for mission,” where too often we “find what we brought with us—our own conception of mission, now comfortingly festooned with biblical luggage tags” (37), Wright wants to offer a missional hermeneutic. He argues that the canon itself is “a product of mission in action” (49) in that they witness to a God with a mission to redeem all of creation.

The book moves in four parts. In the first and briefest part, Wright suggests that his missional hermeneutic is built into the framework of the Bible itself. Part two focuses on “The God of Mission” which amounts to his theology via salvation history. He begins with a chapter on God’s revelation to Israel (chap 3) focusing on Exodus and Exile as two key components of Israel’s experience with God. Next, he moves to Jesus as the incarnation of Yahweh (chap 4). The last chapter of part two focuses on distortions of God in idolatry (chap 5). Part three moves from the God with a mission to his chosen people –“the people of mission”. This is the longest section of the book which focuses on how God works through particular people (Abraham, Israel, Jesus), paradigms (Exodus [redemption], Jubilee [restoration]) and covenants (Noah, Abraham, Sinai, David, New) to reach his universal creation. Part four is dedicated to “The Arena of God’s Mission” which is nothing less than the whole earth and all of humanity. The last two chapters (14 & 15) in the fourth part of the book would probably be better bracketed as their own section providing the key texts through which the missional hermeneutic is shaped. The book moves well with nice internal summaries and reminders of the overarching argument.

Christopher Wright has been quipped as the “OT Wright” counterpart to the wildly popular N. T. Wright. The description is a play on the fact that while Nicholas “Tom” Wright is one of the most admired NT scholars in the world, Chris Wright is his OT scholar complement. The two scholars are both British, Cambridge trained, popular among evangelical Christians, active in the church and fairly good writers. Oh, and they have the same last name. The most fruitful similarity, however, is that they are both “big picture” readers of scripture. They are looking for the overarching Story that shines through the radically diverse stories, songs, poems and letters that make up Scripture. The difficulty with this sort of approach is that it is easy to ignore the stories that don’t quite fit the bigger Story that they’ve written. Their widespread popularity and subsequent contempt among the guild of biblical scholarship is due to the fact that while they are susceptible to ignoring the small stories, their versions of the larger Story are pretty good. That and the biblical scholars can be surprisingly petty and proud.

While the book is probably too long, filled with too many and too extended quotations, unsure in its target audience and in need of interaction with historical theologians, it is a marvelous attempt at biblical theology. If you want a book you can put in the hands of someone wondering, “How do I hold this big weird book called the bible together?” (And by the way, I think a lot of people are asking that question). Then this is a great place to point them. Just hope they have the time and patience to read all 535 pages.

Canon (not the thing you shoot)

2011-01-27T15:38:00.000-06:00

I am frequently asked, "How did these books end up in the Bible?" The implication of this question is that there were some books that might well have been included but were not. For many Christians this idea can be unnerving. How can it be that God's inspired word was pieced together? How do we know if they got it right? Who is the "they" that decided what books made the cut?

The recent media frenzy over the so-called "secret gospels" has only made the questions more confusing. In addition, Dan Brown's wildly popular The Da Vinci Code plays on this confusion in portraying the final cut as the decision of a pagan Roman emperor centuries after the apostles died. These are just two prominent examples of the kind of sensationalism that often passes for historical inquiry about the Bible at the popular level.

Being from a protestant tradition in an area with quite a few Roman Catholics, I am often asked why my Bible is slimmer than the one Joe Ratzinger uses. Usually people only ask me to confirm that "Bible-believing" Christians do not have to pay attention to Joe's extra books. Still, there is doubt. Are we missing something? Are they adding something?

These questions and concerns revolve around a concept called "canon." The word "canon" comes from the Greek word kanōn (pronounced: CAN - O [as in open] N), which refers to a "measuring stick" like a ruler. It means a "rule," "standard" or "limit" and appears only rarely in the NT (Gal 6.16; cf. 2 Cor 10.13, 15, 16). Today, when people talk about the books in the Bible, they are talking about the "canon" – which books are read as Bible and which ones are not.

When it comes to the canon of scripture, what questions do you find yourself asking most often? Or what questions do you find yourself asked most often?

Jesus in Four Hours

2011-01-21T10:43:00.001-06:00

One of the high school students in the church where I serve goes to a public school connected with the nearby university. It's an advanced school where they call teachers "professor," the athletic programs are typically uninspiring, and students are actually expected to learn at a high capacity. So, it's something of a novelty.

A couple weeks this semester students have been given a chance to go to a variety of classes put together by other students. Sometimes the classes are taught by fellow students or by outsiders that a student knows. In this format I've been given a unique opportunity to teach about Jesus in a public high school.

I have roughly one hour for four consecutive days to teach about Jesus. If you had four hours to teach about Jesus to a group of high school students what would you teach? What questions would you want to answer?

This is what I'm thinking so far, but I'm very open to suggestions:

The Gospels – what kind of literature are these books? What do they tell us about Jesus? How should we read the gospels? History? Theology?

The Kingdom – Jesus' primary message was announcing the arrival of God's kingdom. Unfortunately, few people ever hear about the kingdom and what Jesus meant by it. What did Jesus mean when he announced the arrival of the kingdom of God? What did his audience think he was doing?

The Cross – It is an undoubted historical fact that Jesus was crucified. Rarely, however, do we think to ask why he was put to death. I want to look at both the theology of his death articulated in the early church and the historical motives for putting Jesus to death. Why did he die?

The Resurrection – Apart from the resurrection, the emergence of the early church is baffling. What did the earliest believers mean when they said Jesus was raised? How did the early Jesus followers become the church?

I'm looking for as much interaction as possible. What would you change, ignore, add? How would you teach Jesus in four hours?

unequally yoked?

2011-01-12T16:27:00.000-06:00

Someone recently posed this thoughtful question to me:

In 2 Corinthians 6:14, Paul said 'not to be equally yoked with unbelievers'. I'm confused because I thought as Christians we're supposed to be a light in the dark world??

Initially, I thought this would be a pretty simple question to answer. I've always cited this passage to argue that believers should not marry or date non-believers. I began to type my response to the question and then I started looking at the passage a bit more closely. As it turns out, the text is a bit more complicated than a simple injunction against marrying outsiders.

The text reads, "Stop being other-yoked with unbelievers! For what is shared between righteousness and lawlessness? Or what fellowship is there light to darkness?" (my own, overly literal, translation of NA²⁷).

As I already mentioned, this passage is usually understood as a prohibition against believers marrying unbelievers. This is partially because it seems to be alluding to OT passages that argue against cross-breeding cattle (Lev 19:19) or using two different animals to plow a field (Deut 22.10). Often, the Old Testament (OT) prohibits inter-marriage between Israel and the nations of Canaan (Deut 7.3; Josh 23.12; Ezra 9.2; Neh 13.25). Furthermore, Paul seems to be concerned with addressing issues he already wrote about in 1 Corinthians (2 Cor 2.3-4, 9; 7.8, 12). A prohibition against marrying an unbeliever is a possible application of this text and a concept Paul affirms in his earlier letter (1 Cor 7.39). Still, in the context of 2 Corinthians 6 there is no mention of marriage.

In fact 2 Corinthians 6.14-7.1 is an odd section that has raised lots of questions. Many scholars have wondered if Paul even wrote it, and suggest that perhaps it was inserted later (Fitzmeyer, Dahl, Betz). The vocabulary of the passage is somewhat unique, with six words found nowhere else in Paul's letters. This would be the only time Paul cites Lev 20:12; Isa 52:11; or 2 Sam 7:14 in any of his letters. Also, the passage shows affinities with the Dead Sea Scroll material, which has led to the suggestion that someone else inserted it into Paul's letter. The different theology is precisely the highly exclusive tone of Paul's command. This gets right to the heart of my student's question, "How can Paul say the Corinthians should not be yoked with believers?"

It seems unlikely to me that this passage is an interpolation. The difficulties with suggesting that Paul did not write the passage are overwhelming. First, there is no evidence that 2 Corinthians ever existed without this passage. Second, the suggestion that Paul did not write the 6.14-7.1 raises more problems than it solves. If Paul did not write the text then who did and why? How would we know? Why would they insert the passage here of all places? Third, the vocabulary is not all that unique. 1 Cor 4.7-13, an undisputed Pauline passage, also has six words Paul never uses elsewhere in his letters. Fourth, the similarities between this passage and the Dead Sea Scrolls can be explained in a number of ways, not least in that they both recognized the Jewish Scriptures as the origin of their theology. So assuming Paul wrote this passage, what did he mean by it?

Paul cannot have meant that Christians should completely separate from non-Christians. He is very clear in 1 Corinthians that disassociation with all immoral people outside the church would obligate believers to leave the world entirely (1 Cor 5.9-10). Instead, Paul urges the Corinthians to expel Christian "brothers" who engage in evil or immorality (1 Cor 5:11). Practically speaking, Paul expected the Corinthians to shop in the same meat market (1 Cor 10.25) and even dine with pagans (1 Cor 10.26). Also, judging from Paul's own example of travelling from city to city and starting churches among Gentiles it does not make sense to suggest that Paul is advocating a Christian enclave cut off from the rest of the world.

There are three important features to understanding the text. First, it is important to comprehend what Paul means by "unequally yoked." Second, the meaning of "unbelievers" must be considered. Third, we have to read the larger context of Paul's statement. In light of these three features, Paul's point becomes clear.

The word translated "unequally yoked," or "other-yoked" as I have it, is not found anywhere else in the New Testament or extant Greek literature prior to Paul. So, as far as we know, Paul may have coined this phrase. Literally the word means "to pull the yoke in a different direction" (Spicq 2.80). It is the opposite of being a "fellow worker" or "yoked together" (Phil 4.3). Plutarch uses a similar word to describe political allies (Cimon 16:8). The OT allusions indicate a union of two different kinds of animals that creates an inappropriate mismatch. The "yoke" indicates an intimate partnership (cf. Mt 11.29-30), but the "other" points to some fundamental difference between the yoked.

There have been a number of suggestions as to what exactly Paul means by "unbelievers." Since he already commanded the Corinthians to disassociate with immoral Christians (cf. 1 Cor 5.9-10), perhaps Paul means to describe lapsed Christians as "unbelievers" here. It has been suggested that Paul is referring to Gentile believers who do not keep the Torah. In light of the overall argument of 2 Corinthians, Paul might be referring to his opponents or "false apostles" as "unbelievers." All of these interpretations are interesting, but the word "unbelievers" is consistently used in the Corinthian letters to refer to non-Christians (1 Cor 6.6; 7.12, 13, 14, 15; 10.27; 14.22, 23, 24; 2 Cor 4.4). In light of 1 Corinthians, Paul might be reminding the Corinthians to avoid taking disputes between believers to pagan judges (1 Cor 6.1-11), or engaging in idolatry with temple prostitutes (1 Cor 6.12-20). What is abundantly clear, however, is that Paul is commanding the Corinthians to stop their intimate partnerships with those who do not recognize the Lordship of Jesus (cf. esp. 2 Cor 4.4).

Looking at the context of Paul's statement gives even more clarity about what exactly "other-yoking" looks like. Paul begins a series of five antithetical contrasts in verse 14 (2 Cor 6:14-16): righteousness vs. lawlessness, light vs. darkness, Christ vs. Belial (a name for Satan), believer vs. unbeliever, temple vs. idols. After the contrasts, Paul combines a string of OT quotes to emphasize the purity required of God's chosen people. In light of the repeated emphasis on idols in the Corinthian letters (1 Cor 5.10; 6.9; 8.1-13; 10.1-11.1, 19; 12.2) and the appearance of the word in the context of the passage (2 Cor 6.16), it is very likely that Paul commanding the Corinthians to stop partnering in various forms of idolatry. Paul expects Christians to engage the world while also emphasizing their separation from it.

Separation from various forms of idolatry but still engaged in culture. What might this look like in the contemporary world?

Responding to the Bombing

2011-01-02T07:51:00.000-06:00

Twenty-one Coptic believers were killed and ninety-seven were wounded by a suicide bomber in Alexandria, Egypt during a New Year's Mass. Egyptian officials claim that the attack was perpetrated by al-Qaida. The Egyptian president vowed, "We will cut off the hands of terrorists and those plotting against Egypt's security."

I cannot fathom the grief of the community of believers as they gathered today for worship. Their suffering is horrifying. Yet, I cannot help but wonder what a faithful Christian response to this tragedy ought to be.

Notice the initial response of some believers in Egypt:

Soon after the explosion, youths clashed with police, chanting, "With our blood and soul, we redeem the cross,'' witnesses said. Some broke in to the nearby mosque, throwing books into the street and sparking stone- and bottle-throwing clashes with Muslims . . .

Police fired tear gas to break up the clashes. But in the afternoon, new violence erupted in a street between the church and the affiliated Saints Hospital. Some of the young protesters waved kitchen knives. . . .

Later, hundreds gathered at an Alexandria monastery for funerals of the victims, chanting "Mubarak, the Copts' blood is boiling,'' and "we will no longer be afraid, we will no longer submit'' as they waved crosses.

Today the church gathered to worship. This is how they responded:

Father Maqar, who led the service, did not give a sermon, preferring to express his grief with silence.

"I tell Christians to pray and pray to ease their agony," he later told reporters.

It is easy for me to sit in my leather chair, munching a donut and sipping coffee in my warm church office and pontificate about what the suffering brothers in Egypt ought to do. (Does my hypocrisy have limits?) Yet, I still think it is important for believers to ask what a faithful response ought to be. It is not just an exercise in ethics, but a reminder of our identity as believers in a crucified Messiah to ask, "How do we respond to suffering?"

So, what would you do? How would you respond if someone bombed your church? Why?

How Jewish is your Paul?

2010-12-29T00:51:00.003-06:00

At initial glance many readers might find the title of Pamela Eisenbaum's recent book, Paul was not a Christian to be offensive. "What do you mean, Paul was not a Christian?! Paul is not only a Christian but he is the premier Christian." Eisenbaum's intention is not to rob believers of their beloved Apostle, but to understand him in a more historically accurate way.

Typically, Paul's story is told something like this:

Paul was originally a zealous Jew who was persecuting the church, until something utterly miraculous happened: the resurrected Jesus appeared to him. This revelation led to Paul's conversion from Judaism to Christianity, from being a zealous Pharisee to being an unstoppable preacher of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Once converted, he realized the futility of Judaism, with its endless demands of the law, and rejected it. [pg 2]

In contrast, Eisenbaum argues, "Paul lived and died a Jew" [5].

After setting the terms of her discussion [chap. 2], Eisenbaum explains how Paul has come to be read through the lens of conversion from Judaism to Christianity. The chief contributors to the misreading were Augustine and Luther who mistakenly read their own religious experiences into Paul's letters [chap. 3]. Then, she provides a brief history of Paul's relationship to Judaism in recent research that culminates with New Perspective (NP) interpreters [chap. 4]. Though she appreciates what the NP has done for reading Paul as a Jew, Eisenbaum wants to take the NP further into a "radical new perspective" [66]. Her problem with the NP is that she sees it reinforcing too sharp a distinction between Paul prior to his Damascus encounter and afterward.

In order to substantiate her radical new perspective, Eisenbaum spends a few chapters clarifying what Second Temple Jews believed and how porous their social boundaries could be. She begins by describing the common features of the various strands of Second Temple Judaism [chap 5]. She focuses on monotheism, election and Torah as key defining features. She also argues against reading personal redemption as a major feature of Second Temple Judaism. Whereas "Christians assume that personal salvation is the fundamental question of religion—all religion. . . . there is no notion of eternal life . . . in the Hebrew Bible" [89]. Jews were not concerned with life after death because they assumed that the creator God would bring them redemption in history. As a result, they were more concerned with defining Israel–God's chosen people—than salvation.

To follow her chapter on defining Judaism Eisenbaum addresses one of the chief concerns for Second Temple Jews, that is identifying who is in the people of God [chap. 6]. A corollary of this question is what will happen to those outside God's people – Gentiles. She argues that there was a wide variety of answers to these questions ranging from sectarian Jews who were militantly hostile to Gentiles (represented Jubilees and 4QMMT) to Jews who were highly integrated into Greek culture while still maintaining a keen sense of Jewish identity (represented most obviously in Philo). Moving from the general picture of Judaism, Eisenbaum narrows in on the Pharisees [chap 7]. She argues that the Pharisees sought to extended temple purity to everyone, but in more lenient ways than other groups. So, for the Pharisees "The table of every Jew in his home was seen as being like the table of the Lord in the Jerusalem Temple" [130], but their interpretation of purity laws tended to be more lenient than the priests who actually served in the temple. Here, Eisenbaum appeals mostly to the Mishnah and Josephus and then suggests that perhaps Paul's "more flexible view of Torah . . . derive[s] from his training as a Pharisee" [131].

If Paul is a Jew, what about those texts (esp. Gal 1.11-17; Phil 3.2-9) that emphasize the radical discontinuity between his life prior to and after Damascus? It is precisely this question that Eisenbaum addresses in chapter 8. Her answer is that these passages have been misread. The texts are contextually significant to Paul's argument regarding the divine source of his gospel (Gal 1.11-17) and his response to a less educated opposition in Philippi (Phil 3.2-9). So, "the apostle's mystical encounter with the risen Jesus cannot be used as the key to understanding Paul" [142]. In chapters 9-11 Eisenbaum offers her interpretation of Paul as a Jew. She focuses on Paul's Jewish presuppositions which are observable everywhere in his letters [chap 9]. She looks at Paul's monotheism as the key to his conceptual framework [chap 10]. Then, she looks at his specific calling and mission to go to Gentiles as a crucial part of understanding him [chap 11]. These chapters are well worth reading to see the continuity of Paul's thought with Second Temple Judaism.

Finally, in chapters 12-13 Eisenbaum turns to the crucial question of Paul's view of the law. How can she read the passages where Paul makes critical comments about the Torah (esp. Rom 7.5-6, 8-10; Gal 3.23-25; 5.2) in her radically new perspective? To respond to this question she makes five arguments:

Paul's audience is composed of Gentiles, "so everything he says about the law applies to Gentiles [only], unless specified otherwise" [216].

"Torah is for Jews but provides a standard for all" [219].

"The law is not meant to condemn humanity; it serves a positive pedagogical function" [224].

There is no inherent opposition between grace and doing good works [233].

"Jesus saves, but he only saves Gentiles." [242]

So, Paul's disparaging remarks about the Law are not really disparaging the law per se, but rather refute imposing Torah on Gentiles. To impose Torah on Gentiles would be to deny the significance of Jesus' faithful activity on cross. But, Torah is still in effect for Jews.

The last chapter of the book responds to the critique that she is presenting a "two ways salvation" [251]. She argues that her view is only a "two ways salvation" from the traditional perspective. Her radically new perspective argues that Paul had no concern for personal salvation, but rather for the imminent redemption of the world. According to Eisenbaum, "Paul's question is, Now that the end of time is at hand, how will God reconcile all people, Jews and Gentiles, collectively?" She sees Paul addressing this question most directly in Romans 9-11, but she offers only a cursory interpretation of the passage [254-55].

I am convinced that Paul remained a Jew throughout his life. So, I agree with the basic thesis of Eisenbaum's book. Still, I consider many of her other specific conclusions about Paul to be incorrect. To put it simply, I radically disagree with the radical new perspective. Consider for example, her treatment of the Pharisees. Eisenbaum only presents the examples of more lenient Pharisees from late evidence and does not interact with the image of Pharisees as strict observers of Torah prevalent in the NT (privileging late sources over earlier ones). She also fails to account for the significant discontinuity in Paul's life after Damascus. Paul certainly saw himself receiving a new calling in the tradition of the Hebrew prophets, but the significance of Jesus in his thought is unprecedented (failure to explain the development of the church). She aligns with Hurtado in regard to Christology, but fails to explain how this might relate to Jews. Does Paul only care that Jews eventually recognize Jesus' significance for Gentiles or does he think that Jesus is the means of communal redemption for both Jews and Gentiles? I think Paul thought Jesus was more significant for Jews than Eisenbaum suggests. Lastly, it seems inconceivable to me that Paul only addressed Gentiles. In fact, the letters where he addresses issues regarding the law (Galatians and Romans) were probably filled with Jewish believers. How else does one explain Paul's extensive use of Jewish scripture to validate his arguments? Though I appreciated her new perspective I think it is too radical.