Historical Criticism and Beyond

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As I survey what has been going on in the field of biblical studies during the past generation, one thing is clear: The emphasis has shifted from a “historical criticism” that attempts to understand biblical texts in their original social and historical contexts to a “literary criticism” that seeks to appreciate and appropriate the symbolic dimension of the text. Some scholars invite us to a “postmodern” study that departs from the assumptions that have dominated biblical studies since the Enlightenment.

A historical approach was once regarded as liberating, for it helped the reader to understand that the story of ancient Israel took place in the cultural and historical arena of the ancient Near East. Archaeology, it was believed, provided illuminating correlations between the Bible and the history of the ancient Near East. The teachings of the Bible, we came to realize, are “historically conditioned.” Many readers of this journal, which is published by the Biblical Archaeology Society, still have a lively interest in this approach.

Admittedly, historical criticism has yielded a view of scripture that challenges the community of faith, whether Jewish or Christian.¹ Texts have been judged by modern canons of historicity, especially the principle that real historical events of the Bible must have an analogy in modern experience. The unity of the Bible has given way to theological diversity. The “Word of God,” to use the traditional formulation, has been reduced to human words, often without remainder.

Just as damaging has been a loss of confidence that the Bible deals with actual happenings that provide the basis for a “history of ancient Israel.” In the past generation, the eminent archaeologist William F. Albright spearheaded the attempt to present, primarily with the aid of Syro-Palestinian archaeology (or, as he often said, Biblical Archaeology), a synthesis extending From the Stone Age to Christianity, (2nd ed., Anchor, 1957) to cite the title of one of his major works. But “the house that Albright built” has collapsed,² and many students, following the trend of the times, are turning from biblical history in its cultural setting to biblical literature viewed in the context of the canon of scripture.

Much has been gained from this shift from the ancient world to the world of the text. We realize now more than ever that the Bible presents a curious mixture of story and history, and that the preservation of historical reminiscences was motivated primarily by confession of faith in God and survival value for the people Israel. Furthermore, when a community of faith regards this literature as sacred scripture that mediates God’s revelation, it is essential to go “inside” the text—into its symbolic dimension—rather than just make excursion “outside”—into ancient history and culture.

However, we should not be too quick to surrender the relation of the text to its ancient historical setting. The late Amos N. Wilder, a great literary critic, poet and New Testament scholar, warns against a docetic^a view that confines God to a spiritual world of symbolism. “It is distinctive of the oracles and logos of Israel among human cultures,” he observes, “that they represent a unique grip on reality”—one that “carries over into the writings of [the] Christian canon.”³

It would be fruitful to consider this issue in relation to Israel’s prophets, such as Jeremiah’s message at the time of the fall of Jerusalem or Second Isaiah’s poetic interpretation of the new historical possibility associated with the rise of Cyrus of Persia (Isaiah 40–55). But let me illustrate briefly by turning to Psalm 137, the only one of the 150 psalms that irrefutably reflects a particular historical situation: “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat and wept…” The lament, which expresses the grief of people who were uprooted from their homeland, concludes with a terrible curse against enemies who participated in the destruction of Jerusalem. The poet asks God to “remember against the Edomites the day of Jerusalem’s fall” and in even harsher language speaks against Babylon, conqueror of the city:

“Fair Babylon, you predator, a blessing on him who repays you in kind what you have inflicted on us; a blessing on him who seizes your babies and dashes them against the rocks.”

(Psalms 137:8–9, NJPS)

The fierce historical realism and raw passion of this text make it tempting to move away from the literal meaning into the realm of metaphor. In ancient interpretation, this was done by finding an allegorical meaning for “the little ones” that are to be dashed against the rocks.

A couple of decades ago the Psalm came alive—so one of my students informed me— 017in Jamaica, where, put to the beat of native reggae music, it became the prayer of people who felt trapped by the imperialism of the superpowers and Western culture. Doubtless the poignant words of the psalmist’s lament find a resonance in the experience of other oppressed people. But before moving into the metaphorical dimension of the text, it is important to sense that the text relates to a real historical situation. Indeed, the archaeological discovery of an Edomite shrine in the Negev, which dates to the time of the Babylonian destruction of Jerusalem, seems to present a clue as to why the Israelites reacted with such passion. According to one interpretation of the archaeological data, the Edomites, who should have come to the rescue of their ancient kinfolk (Genesis 25:23), took advantage of the situation and expanded in the Negev: “The Edomites saved themselves when Babylon sacked Jerusalem.”⁴

A contemporary example of the hermeneutical issue at stake here is the recent discussion about the dedication of the United States Holocaust Museum in The New York Times, one critic objected to the building, sensing a possible movement away from “a specific tragedy rooted in Jewish and European particularity” and the creation of “a universal symbol of suffering available for American adaptation.”⁵ Subsequent letters the editor discussed the question as to who was misguided: the director of the Holocaust Museum or the op-ed critic who responded. In various ways, these writers, emphasized that the Holocaust—the murder of six million—was not just a metaphor. In any case, the issue is relevant to the interpretation of biblical passages, such as Psalm 137. The “movement away from the literal” to the “universal symbol” must not be at the expense of the real historical world reflected in the biblical texts. The movement should not be “beyond historical criticism” but “historical criticism and beyond.”⁶

As I survey what has been going on in the field of biblical studies during the past generation, one thing is clear: The emphasis has shifted from a “historical criticism” that attempts to understand biblical texts in their original social and historical contexts to a “literary criticism” that seeks to appreciate and appropriate the symbolic dimension of the text. Some scholars invite us to a “postmodern” study that departs from the assumptions that have dominated biblical studies since the Enlightenment. A historical approach was once regarded as liberating, for it helped the reader to understand that the story of […]