Reading the Old Testament with Faith

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.

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[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.

OT Apocrypha in the Early Church

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.

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[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.

Three Views on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament

As early as the second chapter of the New Testament (Mt 2.15) the careful reader comes across the puzzling way in which the OT is used in the NT. Actually, it happens before Matthew 2.15 = Hosea 11.1 (e.g. Mt 1.22 = Isa 7.1), but this example graces the cover of Zondervan's most recent book in their "Counterpoints" series‒Three Views on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament. The goal of the book is "to expose [. . .] readers to a range of approaches to some of the question posed by this issue, in hope that their understanding will be deepened at various levels" (10). To this end, they pose five questions to three contributors. The five questions are as follows:

1. Is Sensus Plenior (SP) an appropriate way of explaining the NT use of the OT?
   

   -Following Raymond Brown, SP is "that additional, deeper meaning, intended by God but not clearly intended by the human author, which is seen to exist in the words of a biblical text [. . .] when they are studied in the light of further revelation or development in the understanding of revelation" (14, quoted from Brown's book The Sensus Plenior of Sacred Scripture).
   

2. How is "typology" best understood?
   
3. Do the NT authors take into account the contexts of the OT passages they cite?
   
4. Do the NT writers' use of Jewish exegetical methods of the first century explain NT use of the OT?
   
5. Are contemporary Christians valid in using the same exegetical approach as the NT writers? If so what does that mean?
   

As with any anthology or compilation some parts of the book are far better than others. The introduction and conclusion were very well done, offering a brief but comprehensive overview of the issues and relevant bibliographic material as well as a succinct summary conclusion. Still, the main issue with this book is that there was not enough diversity of perspective to represent a broad "a range of approaches." All three contributors are placed on the evangelical point of the theological spectrum. It would have been nice to hear from another scholar who has done a lot of work in this area who would not necessarily identify with the title "evangelical" (i.e. Richard Hays, Steve Moyise, Christopher D. Stanley, Francis Watson). While these scholars are certainly experts in the field, it is not beyond them to write for a lay audience. On this very issue, Moyise and Watson have specifically endeavored to do so. Despite this lack of non-evangelical perspective, as an introduction to the issues of how the NT uses the OT this is a helpful book.

Here is a very basic summary/critique of the three positions offered in book followed by a summary of their answers to the five questions posed above:

Representing the, in my opinion, completely untenable view that the NT uses the OT consistently with historical-grammatical exegesis is Walter C. Kaiser Jr. Kaiser is a reformed OT scholar who served as both president and professor, at different times, at Gordon-Conwell. He has a laundry list of publications including contributions to almost forty books and numerous journal articles. Still, his argument is based entirely on the hermeneutical assumption that a text can only mean one thing. He spends his first eight pages arguing that the NT writers cannot possibly mean something not intended by the OT writers. In Kaiser's view, if the writers of the NT did use scripture in ways that the OT writers did not mean then they would do violence to the OT text. Kaiser tellingly quotes John Owen, "If the Scripture has more than one meaning, it has no meaning at all" (75). In the end, it is clear that Kaiser is seeing this as a matter of faith predetermined. He suggests, "It is only when we begin to doubt that the NT writers were faithful to what had been written in the OT that we begin to face problems" (88). I would humbly suggest that as we read passages and think about how they do and don't relate "problems" are aplenty.

Kaiser's answers:

1. No SP. The prophets knew they were talking about Jesus even if no one else did.
   
2. Typology? Sure, but only if by foresight of the OT, not retrospectively.
   
3. Context? The immediate context as well as the larger canonical and theological context are crucial for how the NT uses the OT.
   
4. Using 2^nd temple literature to understand NT use of the OT is misguided at best.
   
5. We better replicate the way NT authors use the OT because they used sound historical-grammatical exegesis.
   

The middle-ground is taken by Darrell Bock, professor of NT studies at Dallas Theological Seminary. Bock is a NT scholar who has made a name for himself writing on Luke, but is expertise is not limited as such. Though Bocks' argument is mostly a reprint of earlier work elsewhere, his suggestions are helpful. Basically, he argues that the NT writers used the OT in ways that went beyond the intention of the OT writers, but they did so in line with the meaning of the OT passage. So, in Bock's view, "the NT meaning can develop or complement what the OT meant, but not in a way that ends up denying what the OT originally affirmed" (116). Bock's argument is, I think, much more representative of the evidence than Kaiser, but still comes off as special pleading to save the NT writer from critique for failing to do his exegesis properly.

Bock's answers:

1. SP is okay in a nuanced form. The NT writers did not always know what the SP was, but the two cannot contradict.
   
2. Typology is present and is a necessary tool for understanding the NT use of the OT. Unlike Kaiser, Bock thinks it can be retrospective.
   
3. Both the immediate context and canonical context are relevant to the NT use of an OT passage.
   
4. 2^nd temple literature can be helpful, but only in subordinate ways to canonical readings.
   
5. Contemporary interpreters can use the methods of the early church particularly in their canonical exegesis.
   

The third position is written by the OT scholar Peter Enns. Recently, Enns has been the subject of much controversy. After publishing his book Inspiration and Incarnation, Enns was suspended from his teaching post at Westminster Theological Seminary where he served for 14 years (read the story here). Later he was fired. The main contention of the Westminster trustees is that Enns' analogy of scripture as incarnational is inconsistent with the Westminster Confession's doctrine on scripture. In the Three Views book Enns continues to use that same analogy to describe the "humiliation of scripture as a positive theological construct" (202‒204). The point he makes is that, "the 'creatureliness' of Scripture is not an obstacle to be overcome, but the very means by which Scripture's divinity can be seen" (204). His theology and work are interesting and, in my opinion, an example of robust faith thinking critically about the discipline of OT studies and theology.

Enns' chapter in Three Views is, I think, the best of the three. Instead of assuming what Scripture can say, or must say, Enns takes an inductive approach. He looks at NT examples of the OT that do not seem to reflect the OT original author's (or authors as the case may be) intended meaning. Paul's argument from the singular noun "seed" in (Gal 3.15‒29), for example, clearly does not accord exactly with the point of Genesis (13.14‒16; cf. 12.7; 15.5; 21.12; 24.6–7; Three views pgs 180‒185). Enns also points out that NT authors reflect interpretive traditions that are not found in the OT but rather second temple literature (Gal 3.19; Acts 7.43; Heb 2.2; 2 Tim 3.8; Jude 9, 14‒15; 2 Pet 2.5; Three Views pg 196). He suggests, then, that "how the NT authors approached the task of biblical interpretation (their methods) and how they understood certain OT episodes (their traditions) boldly bear the unmistakable stamp of their historical setting" (202). The NT writers, according to Enns, use scripture in new and different ways than OT authors may have intended, but that's okay because they reflect their historical setting and the eschatological advent of the Messiah. I was intrigued by Enn's approach, but I still wonder how it all works out. If scripture is humiliated, what becomes the most authoritative voice for the faith community?

Enns' answers:

1. SP makes sense in like of a christotelic orientation toward the OT text. This does not eliminate hermeneutical tensions, but shows the theology behind the tensions.
   
2. Typology is helpful but cannot serve as an apologetic to exonerate the NT authors of using the exegetical methods of their time.
   
3. The context of an OT passage is sometimes helpful, but not always.
   
4. Of course the NT writers used exegetical methods of 2^nd temple literature. To expect something different would be to expect them to not be first century interpreters. Understanding the significance of these interpretive practices is the key to understanding the NT authors' hermeneutical approach.
   
5. Contemporary interpreters can replicate the theological motives behind the exegetical imagination but not necessarily their methods.
   

This short book is certainly not the only thing out there in pursuing questions about the NT's use of the OT, but it is a helpful introduction.

messiahs in the old testament

The word “Christ,” or in its Hebrew form “Messiah,” occurs 529 times in the New Testament. Literally the word means “anointed.” It makes sense then that, occasionally, the verb form of the word in the Old Testament has an everyday meaning referring to rubbing a shield with oil (Isa 21.5), painting a house (Jer 22.14) or applying oil to the body (Amos 6.6). In this generic sense “anointing” simply means “to cover with.” Beyond the generic meaning of the word, “anointing” takes on a specific religious connotation in the Old Testament.

In reference to religious “anointing” the word can refer to applying oil to items such as the tabernacle, altar, laver (Exod 40.9–11), or even a sin offering (Exod 29.36). Most frequently, however, the word is used to describe the ceremony of initiating someone into a leadership position. The ceremony was named such because it involved pouring oil from a horn on the head of the new leader. This was not done for all leadership positions in Israel, but was specifically reserved for three roles.

Those who were “anointed” were the three most significant leadership roles in Israel. First, priests were anointed for leadership (Exod 28.41; 30.30; 40.13–15; Lev 16.32; Num 3.3) and particularly the High Priest (Exod 40.13; Lev 7.35; Num 35.25). Second and most importantly, Kings were anointed. The most significant examples are Saul (1 Sam 9.9, 16; 10.1; 15.1, 17) and David (1 Sam 16.1–3, 12–13; 2 Sam 12.7; cf. Sir 46.13). Though, there is an example of a king outside of Israel (an Aramean) being “anointed” to his royal position (1 Kgs 19.5). Also, Cyrus, the Persian king, is called God’s “anointed one” or “Messiah” (Isa 45.1). This refers to Cyrus’ role as God’s chosen instrument to bring Israel out of Babylonian exile. In poetic literature the kingly aspect of the anointed becomes even more pronounced because the noun is used in parallel position to “king” (Ps 2.2; 18.51) making the two words somewhat synonymous. Third, and least often, prophets are anointed (1 Kgs 19.15–16; cf. 2 Kgs 9.1–3, 6, 12). The only two prophets ever anointed were Elijah and Elisha. Though, Isaiah refers to himself as anointed (Isa 61.1). So, these three key leadership positions, priest, king and prophet were considered “anointed ones.”