Bible Books

008

The Gospel of Matthew according to a Primitive Hebrew Text

George Howard
(Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1987) 12 228 pp., $49.95

In an article in BR in 1986, Professor George Howard of the University of Georgia presented in capsule form the results of his research on a medieval Hebrew version of the Gospel of Matthew (see “Was the Gospel of Matthew Originally Written in Hebrew?” BR 02:04).¹ As Howard related, in medieval Europe Christian and Jewish scholars attacked each others’ religion in written polemics and oral disputations. One of the longest and most detailed of the Jewish polemics is the Even Bohan (“The Touchstone”) written in Spain about 1385 by Shem-Tob ben Isaac ben Shaprut. The Bible, that is, the Tanakh of the Jews and the New Testament of the Christians, figured prominently in all these polemics. The Christians used the Bible to prove the truth of Christianity and the falsehood of Judaism, and the Jews used the Bible to prove the opposite. As part of this enterprise, Shem-Tob incorporated in his polemic a Hebrew version of the entire Gospel of Matthew, inserting at various junctures his own critical comments. This Hebrew version is the object of Howard’s study.

The bulk of The Gospel of Matthew according to a Primitive Hebrew Text is an edition and translation of the Hebrew Matthew from the Even Bohan. The quality of Howard’s work is excellent; I have found only a few typographical errors and only one translation error.² For his edition Howard collated nine manuscripts (the Even Bohan has never been printed). I spent an hour in the library of the Jewish Theological Seminary with one of the manuscripts used by Howard, and I can confirm that Howard’s citations of the manuscript have a high level of accuracy. Thanks to Howard’s labors, this interesting text is now accessible in a reliable and convenient edition.

In his analysis of the text, Howard proposes three original and important theses. (1) Shem-Tob did not create the Hebrew version of Matthew that appears in the Even Bohan but has transcribed a much older text. (2) The Hebrew version is not a translation of the canonical Gospel of Matthew, but is an “original composition.” (3) The canonical Gospel of Matthew was written by its original author(s) in two versions, one Greek and the other Hebrew; the Greek version is preserved in the New Testament, and the Hebrew version is the ultimate ancestor of Shem-Tob’s Matthew.

Howard’s three theses are not of equal weight. (1) Howard is surely correct that Shem-tob used a pre-existing Hebrew version of Matthew. Shem-Tob nowhere claims to have done the translation himself, and various older Hebrew versions of Matthew, now only partially extant, demonstrate that Shem-Tob’s text stands in a long tradition. Who created these versions and preserved them is unknown. Are they the work of Jewish anti-Christian polemicists, Shem- Tob’s forerunners, or were they created by Jewish apostates and Christian polemicists to serve as missionary tracts? The matter requires investigation.

(2) Howard argues that Shem-Tob’s Hebrew version exhibits too much independence from the Greek original of Matthew (and from the Latin versions that derive from the Greek) to be regarded as a translation. Numerous literary features (puns, alliteration, other wordplays) and various substantive contrasts with the Greek Matthew suggest that Shem-Tob’s Hebrew Matthew is not a “translation” but an “original composition.” This is the crux of Howard’s argument, but I am unconvinced, just as I am unconvinced by A. M. Dubarle, who (unknown to Howard) argues that the medieval Hebrew versions of Judith derive somehow from the Hebrew original of the book and are not re-translations back into Hebrew from the Latin.³ But there is always the possibility that medieval Hebrew translators of Greek or Latin narrative prose allowed themselves a certain measure of artistic freedom.⁴ If the author of the Hebrew version of Matthew enjoyed puns, alliteration and other wordplays, this fact hardly proves that the version is not a translation. Another sign of the translator’s creativity is his habit of adding biblical reminiscences missing from the original.⁵ Furthermore, the Hebrew version contains several clear indications that it is a translation from the Greek (or Latin). The Hebrew version explains that “Emmanuel” means “God with us” (Matthew 1:23) because it is a translation of a text whose readers needed such an explanation; it never would have occurred to a Hebrew writer to add such an explanation. Misinterpreting the phrase “to a deserted place” (Matthew 14:13), the Hebrew version writes “to the wilderness of Judea,” which makes no sense in its context The Hebrew’s “Sodom” at Matthew 15:21 is a misreading of the original’s “Sidon” (see the manuscript variants in the Hebrew), just as “Simon the Canaanite” at Matthew 27:32 is a misreading of the original’s “Simon the Cyrenaean.” And so on. The translator often missed the biblical allusions contained in the original, because he did not recognize them in their Greek (or Latin) dress.⁶

Some of the substantive contrasts between the Hebrew Matthew and the canonical 009Matthew are indeed interesting, but without a study of Shem-Tob’s polemical use of the Gospel we cannot conclude that the Hebrew Matthew preserves “primitive” readings from the earliest period of Christianity. In an introductory paragraph omitted from the edition of the text but cited by Howard on pages 177–178, Shem-Tob strongly encourages all future copyists not to copy the Hebrew Matthew unless they also copy the objections and polemics that he inserted in the text. This is sound advice, and would that Howard had followed it. We need to know whether the changes introduced in the Hebrew version support or contradict Shem-Tob’s arguments. For example, in that same paragraph on page 177, Shem-Tob says that one of his objectives is to demonstrate that Christians interpret the Hebrew Bible “contrary to the truth and contrary to their [i.e. the Christians’] faith.” Shem-Tob seems to mean that Christians do not follow “true” Christianity in that they do not heed the teachings of their own religion. (This type of argument was used against the Jews by the Spanish Dominicans in the Previous century, who sought to prove the truth of Christianity by appeal to the Talmud—the sacred book of the opposition was both an object of attack and a source of ammunition.) This polemical stance may explain why the Hebrew Matthew in a few places tones down Jesus’ criticism of the law (see Howard pp. 203–206); if Jesus did not reject the law, why do Christians reject it? I offer this interpretation most hesitantly, and only in order to demonstrate that the function of the Hebrew Matthew in its polemical setting must be investigated if all the peculiarities of the text are to be understood.

I see no reason to assume that Shem-Tob’s text is anything other than a free translation of the canonical Greek (or Latin) Gospel of Matthew. If, then, Howard’s second thesis is implausible and unnecessary, his third is even more implausible and unnecessary, and needs no further comment.

All scholars will be grateful to Howard for publishing for the first time a highly interesting Hebrew version of Matthew. The text requires, and will repay, further study.

Jesus: The King and His Kingdom

G. W. Buchanan
(Macon, GA: Mercer Univ. Press, 1984) 347 pp., $21.95

Somewhat like the 18th-century German skeptic, H. S. Reimarus, G. W. Buchanan, in Jesus: The King and His Kingdom, set out to show how Jesus fit into the political arena of Palestine in New Testament times. He pictured Jesus as a very capable administrator and fund-raiser, recruiting a competent, committed staff of temporary monks while disputing with other Jewish leaders over the way to liberate Palestine from Roman rule. Jesus spoke through parables, in code that Jews would understand but eavesdropping Romans could not Buchanan compared Jesus to the Hasmonean leaders who successfully overthrew the Greeks nearly 200 years earlier and to such royal pretenders as Judas, Simon and Athronges, who led a bloody revolt against Rome after the death of Herod. He also compared Palestine of New Testament times to Iran just before the Shah was displaced by Khomeini.

It would be a mistake to take Buchanan’s imaginative conjectures as the work of a hostile critic. Seen as a whole, the work has and a positive goal, correctly showing that the 20th-century picture of Jesus as a charming exponent of democracy and fair play cannot be historically substantiated from the crude debris of first-century Judaism. Buchanan’s portrayal of New Testament sources as steeped in Old Testament imagery and presuppositions is not misleading and is bound to stimulate those who can read with caution. Modern scholars, such as Martin Hengel, Ernst Bammel and C. F. D. Moule, have refuted S. G. F. Brandon’s attempt to relate Jesus to the revolutionary movement of his day, but Buchanan has other materials and methods that cannot be easily dismissed. Furthermore, Buchanan goes well beyond the German form-critics, Dibelius and Bultmann, in his analysis of the Greek rhetorical form, chreia, used by Greek scholars and rabbis. This is important for distinguishing the teachings of Jesus from the additions of the later church.

Buchanan’s study of cyclical time is also very illuminating, and his presentation of Jesus leading a campaign is impressive. Buchanan shows what a vast amount of authentic material there is to demonstrate that Jesus and his disciples believed a kingdom was already within their grasp and were trying to make it a vibrant inheritance.

The book does not answer all problems satisfactorily. What was the object of all this effort? How could the kingdom be acquired by faith, without munitions? It is true that Jesus led an intensive campaign, but Buchanan’s otherwise comprehensive and intriguing reconstruction does not adequately explain how a servant could do all of this or why Christians should turn the other cheek or pray for their enemies. To be sure, Jesus fits into an expectation that all prophecy would be fulfilled in him, but not in a narrow territory nor in a narrow temporal existence.

The Origin of I Corinthians

John Coolidge Hurd, Jr.
(Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1983) 379 pp., $21.95

II Corinthians

Victor Paul Furnish
(Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1984) 641 pp., $18.00

Of the 27 books of the New Testament, 21 of them (Romans through Jude) take the form of “letters.” Even the Book of Revelation (a so-called apocalypse) has certain letter characteristics (1:4 “John to the seven churches that are in Asia…”). Letter writing was obviously a very important part of Church life in its earliest stages.

Apart from the purported letter quoted in Acts 15:23–29, the letters of Paul are the earliest known Christian letters, constituting the earliest extant Christian literature. The letters that we now have from Paul are by no means the only ones that he wrote, nor are the letters that we now have necessarily unitary compositions. In his extant letters, Paul refers to other letters in addition to the ones we now have, and some of those that we do have are often thought by scholars to consist of two or more letters woven together by later editors.

First and Second Corinthians represent a case in point: Not only do we see in both of them references to other letters written by 010Paul (1 Corinthians 5:9; 2 Corinthians 2:3–9, 7:8–12), as well as at least one letter written to Paul (1 Corinthians 7:1); it is also possible to see in both of them indications that more than one letter of Paul has been utilized in the final redaction (or edition) of each. In other words, Paul apparently wrote several letters to Corinth, and what we now have in 1 and 2 Corinthians reflects a very lively correspondence between Paul and his Corinthian people.

Scholars differ as to how many letters Paul wrote to Corinth, and how the ones we now have should be analyzed. The two books here under review, John Hurd on 1 Corinthians and Victor Furnish on 2 Corinthians, are important contributions to the on-going discussion. Hurd is professor of New Testament at Trinity College, Toronto; Furnish is University Distinguished Professor of New Testament at Perkins School of Theology, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, and is currently editor of the Journal of Biblical Literature.

Hurd’s book was written as a Ph.D. dissertation at Yale University, and was first published 20 years ago.⁷ The new edition reproduces the book unchanged, except for the addition of a preface (pp. xiii–xxi) in which the author discusses the scholarly reaction to his book and tells us that he still holds to the conclusions reached in the original edition. This is unfortunate, for many important works have been published on 1 Corinthians since 1965 which bear directly on issues discussed in Hurd’s book. (Even the bibliography at the end, pp. 306–334, remains unchanged, and is thus two decades out of date.)

In reconstructing the “origin of 1 Corinthians” Hurd assumes the integrity of the letter; that is, he rejects the view that it is a composite document. He analyzes the letter itself to trace the various stages of its prehistory. Working backwards in time, Hurd uncovers three stages in this prehistory: (stage 3) (the latest) the Corinthians’ reply, by letter (1 Corinthians 7:1) to (stage 2) the previous letter from Paul (5:9), which modified (stage 1) Paul’s own oral instruction during his founding mission. Especially interesting about Hurd’s reconstruction is the amount of detail that he is able to extract from each of the three stages. He takes the formula, “now concerning” (peride, 7:1, 25, 8:1, 12:1, 16:1, 12), to reflect Paul’s answer to the items included in the Corinthians’ letter to him on sexual morality, on meat sacrificed to pagan gods (“idols”), on worship practices, on the resurrection, on Paul’s collection for the Jerusalem church, and on Apollos. Of course, the further back Hurd proceeds, the less secure are the results, made all the more problematic 011because of the introduction of external factors into the analysis. For example, Hurd thinks that 2 Corinthians 6:14–7:1 discussing Christians’ relations with “unbelievers” is a fragment of Paul’s earlier letter (stage 2), and that 1 Thessalonians 4 and 5 provide hints as to Paul’s supposed arguments on eschatology and the resurrection in his earlier letter. Even more controversial is his view that the so-called Apostolic Decree^a formulated in Jerusalem (Acts 15:20, 29, 21:25) was not only accepted by Paul but even promoted by him. According to this view, Paul was compelled to change views about eating meat sacrificed to “idols” that he had previously expounded in Corinth.

While we cannot discuss Hurd’s arguments in detail here, his method and results can be illustrated with reference to the discussion of “food offered to idols,” or “idol meat” (eidolothuta, 1 Corinthians 8:1). Hurd argues that Paul had originally taught (stage 1) that “an idol is nothing” (8:4), and that meat from the public market could freely be eaten, regardless of how it had been slaughtered (10:25) (and regardless of whether it had been offered to idols). The promulgation of the Apostolic Decree, forbidding the eating of idol meat (Acts 15:29), caused Paul to change his mind. He thus included in his first letter to the Corinthians (stage 2) a prohibition against eating idol meat. The Corinthians, in their reply to Paul (stage 3), vigorously dissented from this prohibition on the basis of their previous “knowledge” and conviction that “all things are lawful” (8:1, 10:23). Paul was thus compelled to take up the matter again, and in the process he had to concede some points (1 Corinthians 8:1–11:1). Now, one problem with this reconstruction involves chronology; it places the Apostolic Decree at a time subsequent to the beginning of Paul’s ministry in Greece, which is unlikely (though Hurd argues vigorously for this revision of the usual chronology). An even bigger problem is that Paul makes no mention of the Apostolic Decree, and is not likely to have supported it (cf. Galations 2:1–10). (The Book of Acts contradicts itself on the question of Paul’s knowledge of the decree: according to Acts 15 Paul was himself involved in its promulgation, yet in Acts 21:25 Paul is only informed about the decree during his final visit to Jerusalem, subsequent to the Corinthian correspondence.) Paul’s argument in 1 Corinthians 8–10 (allowing eating of “idol meat” but forbidding participation in pagan meals), convoluted as it is, is hardly indicative of a strict prohibition of idol meat at any point in the correspondence.

Even if Hurd does not succeed in convincing the reader on all points, he has succeeded in producing a very challenging and interesting book, one that is still, after 20 years, an important contribution to scholarship on the Corinthian correspondence.

Furnish’s book on 2 Corinthians is volume 32A in the Anchor Bible series of translations and commentaries. The translation, with notes and commentary, is preceded by an extensive introduction (pp. 3–57) and bibliography (pp. 58–95). In the introduction Furnish presents a history of Roman Corinth and early Christianity there, taking account of the latest information provided by archaeological excavation at Corinth. He then discusses the most important aspects of the debate about 2 Corinthians: its external attestation in quotations from later Christian writings, the question of its literary composition, and the identity of the “false apostles” attacked in the letter (2 Corinthians 10–11). I shall confine my discussion mainly to the issue of the composition of 2 Corinthians.

One very influential reconstruction of 2 Corinthians, developed by the German scholars Guenther Bornkamm and Dieter Georgi, and one that I use in my own lectures on 2 Corinthians at the University of California at Santa Barbara, divides the letter up into the following five letters or letter-fragments:

a. 2 Corinthians 2:14–6:13 7:2–4, written from Ephesus after 1 Corinthians

b. 2 Corinthians 10–13, the “tearful letter” (cf. 2:4), written from Ephesus after a frustrating visit to Corinth, in which Paul attacks the “false apostles” who have brought the Corinthian church to rebellion against the apostle.

c. 2 Corinthians 1:1–2:13 7:5–16, written from Macedonia after Paul had received news from Titus that the Corinthian church had been reconciled with the apostle (cf. 7:6–7)

d. 2 Corinthians 8, written from Macedonia to Corinth, concerning the collection for the church in Jerusalem

e. 2 Corinthians 9, also dealing with the collection project but intended for a wider circle of churches in the Roman province of Achaea (of which Corinth was capital).

In this reconstruction by Bornkamm and Georgi, 2 Corinthians 6:14–7:1 is regarded as a non-Pauline interpolation.⁸ Hurd assigns these verses to Paul’s earliest letter to Corinth (stage 1).

Furnish rejects the German scholars’ complicated reconstruction, though he agrees that 2 Corinthians 6:14–7:1 is a non-Pauline interpolation. Instead, Furnish opts for a “two-letter hypothesis,” according to which chapters 1–9 are from the earlier, and 10–13 from the later, of the two letters making up 2 Corinthians. He asserts that the “tearful letter” referred to by Paul is no longer extant. His reconstruction of the entire Pauline correspondence with Corinth looks like this:

Letter A, no longer extant

Letter B, 1 Corinthians (Furnish accepts the unity of 1 Corinthians)

Letter C, the “tearful letter,” no longer extant

Letter D, 2 Corinthians 1–9

Letter E, 2 Corinthians 10–13.

It should be stressed that one’s historical reconstruction of Paul’s Corinthian correspondence directly affects the interpretation of the text, as well as the total assessment of Paul’s relations with the Corinthian church. To put it dramatically, is Paul’s last extant word to his people in Corinth “Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift!” (2 Corinthians 9:15)? Or is it, rather, a threat to “tear down,” i.e., excommunicate, the Corinthian church if it doesn’t fall in line (2 Corinthians 13:10)? If the latter, then the statements in 2 Corinthians 7:6–13, referring to the Corinthians’ “repentance” in response to a “tearful letter” from Paul, are virtually inexplicable as a response to Paul’s tirade in 2 Corinthians 13:10–13.

In sum, while I think that Furnish mounts some good arguments against the Bornkamm-Georgi reconstruction, and there is a great deal of value in Furnish’s new commentary, the book finally suffers from an unconvincing reconstruction of the letter-fragments contained in 2 Corinthians.

One final word: Whatever reconstruction of 2 Corinthians one adopts, or even if one reads it “straight” as an integral whole, the reader’s curiosity is aroused as to what did happen on Paul’s final visit to Corinth. A partial answer to this is provided by Paul himself in Romans 15:25–27 where, writing from Corinth, he reports on the success of his collection project in Macedonia and Achaea and his impending visit to Jerusalem. Thus it appears that the story of Paul’s relationship with his Corinthian church has a happy ending. In fact, the memory and continuing authority of the apostle Paul lived on in Corinth into the post-apostolic period, as can be seen, for example, in the letter written toward the end of the first 044century from the Roman church to the Corinthian church (1 Clement).

Interpreting the Psalms

Patrick D. Miller, Jr.
(Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986) 175 pp., $10.95, paper

For many Christians, the Book of Psalms is the most familiar part of their Old Testament. As vehicles for personal and collective worship—both in praising and lamenting—the psalms are clear and readily available for use.

Professor Miller knows this—indeed, he welcomes and even encourages it—and he has produced a small volume with the interests of church workers and lay people at heart. His work is divided into two parts. First, five chapters present the practical results of scholarship to his audience. He wants the psalms to be used and appreciated, and he correctly believes that scholarship has discovered many things that can enrich personal and group worship. He covers the major approaches to the psalms and devotes chapters to the major types—praise and lament—as well as to Hebrew poetry. He also emphasizes the timelessness of the psalms, indicated by the lack of historical specificity in the psalms themselves. This was certainly an intentional feature as the psalms came together.

In the second section, Miller presents expositions on ten selected psalms (Psalms 1, 2, 14, 22, 23, 82, 90, 127, 130, 139). Here his years of immersion in the psalms, and his love for them, shine through brightly. Each of these chapters deserves to be read slowly and savored. A nice concluding feature is an annotated bibliography for further study, which includes authors such as Luther, Calvin, C. S. Lewis and Karl Barth alongside the standard scholarly specialists in Psalms study.

Many introductory books on the psalms are available, but this is one of the best. It goes beyond sterile analysis of the psalms to infuse the reader with a sense of excitement and warmth about the material. It deserves a wide readership.

Old Testament Theology in a Canonical Context

Brevard S. Childs
(Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986) 271 pp., $17.95

With this slim volume, Brevard Childs continues adding to an impressive array of works devoted to his canonical approach. Using this approach, Professor Childs treats the biblical texts in their canonical contexts; that is, he is relatively unconcerned about tracing whatever stages of composition the biblical texts may have gone through, and is more interested in the final forms of these texts, how they may have been shaped by the believing communities that received them, and how these texts in turn shaped the believing communities. He ultimately sees these texts as the authoritative Scriptures of the Christian church. He sounded the call to a new approach to biblical theology in 1970 (Biblical Theology in Crisis), showed his method in action in a commentary on Exodus in 1974, followed this with the monumental and programmatic Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture in 1979, and extended this to the New Testament in a 1985 introduction.

Childs continues his work here, in 20 discrete chapters. His opening chapter reviews the discipline of Old Testament introduction and sets forth again his brief for the canonical approach.

A new twist is his analysis (pp. 7–10) of the history of the discipline as a distinctly Christian one, though now Jon Levenson has attempted a self-consciously Jewish “theology” as well (Sinai and Zion, 1985). In succeeding chapters, the material is topical, covering the dominant themes found in most other major Old Testament theologies: the law, the covenant, the cult, the major offices (prophet, priest, king, judge), the institutions of Israel’s national life (civil, legal, military, family), revelation, and Israel’s response to God. Aside from certain sections reflecting current theological concerns, such as “Is the God of the Old Testament a Male Deity?” and “Male and Female as a Theological Problem,” the unique quality of the work lies in its consistent movement beyond the atomizing analysis of acknowledged or putative units within the texts to a consideration of them as wholes and ultimately as parts of the entire Old Testament (he rarely goes into the New Testament in this book).

Professor Childs’s approach has been welcomed warmly and attacked vigorously. This volume will not change that, but it will challenge and stimulate discussion in the scholarly guild. In addition, it should help students and pastors; portions of it should even help interested lay people (although a knowledge of scholarly approaches to the Old Testament is presupposed throughout the book). I found the book stimulating and rewarding, and I recommend it highly.

The Gospel of Matthew according to a Primitive Hebrew Text
George Howard
(Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1987) 12 228 pp., $49.95