Readers Reply

004

Confusing History with Science

“Jesus: Darling of the Media” (Perspective, BR 12:04) repeats the same mistake that has dogged the quest for the “historical” Jesus almost from the start. Hershel Shanks writes that popular magazines have “failed to understand the difference between historical facts that are subject to verification, on the one hand, and miracles, on the other.” Shanks goes on to assert that historical “facts,” such as the question of Jesus’ birthplace, are subject to scientific proof or disproof, while questions involving supernatural events are not.

This is simply not true. No history is subject to scientific proof or disproof. Laboratory tests do not involve history because history cannot be replicated. All history is myth in that it is narrative built from evidentiary sources and constructed to explain the world or some part of the world.

Further, we test all history in the same manner. If we are to present good historical research, we test the history of Jesus’ life and teaching in the same manner that we test miracle narratives (in fact, given the evidence, in the only way we can test them). We examine and assess the coherence of the narratives, the sufficiency of narrated evidence and the reliability of witnesses. If, as Shanks contends, “science does not know of people who rise from the dead,” it also does not know of people who were born in Bethlehem (or Nazareth) in 3 B.C.E. (or 4 or 7 B.C.E.). “Science” simply cannot test these claims.

Accepting any historical claims requires a step of faith. We have no direct knowledge of first-century events. Whatever knowledge we have comes from accepting, having faith in, the records and witness of the age. Shanks’s false dichotomy between “science” and faith muddles the focus and function of historical research.

The question is not one of method but of first principles, the presuppositions we bring to the text. Using the preferred term “science” seems to lend greater reliability to some accounts. In fact, it does not. In this context, “science” does not refer to method but to presuppositions.

There are better and worse methods for performing historical research. But no history can claim to be more than it is, a story constructed from the best available evidence. This is true for natural stories/histories as well as supernatural stories/histories.

AR Instead of BR?

Please cancel my subscription to Bible Review immediately! I find that this magazine does not uplift Christ but, rather, attacks the Gospels on every point. I subscribed to your magazine thinking it was a Christian publication but have found nothing in your magazine that is of a Christian nature. You should change the title to Atheist Review. Looking through your magazine is just a total waste of my time, not to mention being bad for our environment as a waste of paper! I would rather spend my time reading the works of true Christian authors who glorify Christ in their work—authors such as Paul, Mark, Luke and John.

Why not Matthew, too?—Ed.

Andy Warhol

Shoe Is on the Other Foot

Every time I read “Please cancel my subscription” in your Readers Reply I smiled, but now it is my turn to write “Please cancel my subscription”!

Your article on Andy Warhol (Jane Daggett Dillenberger, “Jesus as Pop Icon: The Unknown Religious Art of 005Andy Warhol,” BR 12:05) has really tested my patience. Have you ever read his “Diaries”?

How can BR get so low? From now on I will go to the library and read the articles I like—which have been very few for the last two years. I miss the BR of years ago.

A Mockery of All That Is Holy

I just received my first issue of BR. How disappointing. What I was looking for is a publication that brings me “that ol’ time religion,” not abstract pictures of Jesus or disgusting pictures by Andy Warhol depicting the Last Supper with price signs and motorcycles. The art must exist since it is in your magazine, but my question is, Why did you publish it in a magazine that is supposed to teach us about God and our savior? To me, it is a mockery of all that is holy.

Please cancel my subscription.

Where to See More

As a BR subscriber from Pittsburgh and an art critic, I especially enjoyed Jane Daggett Dillenberger’s article about native son Andy Warhol (see “Jesus as Pop Icon: The Unknown Religious Art of Andy Warhol,” BR 12:05).

Those interested in this facet of Warhol’s career might like to know that his religious art is featured in the permanent collection of Pittsburgh’s Andy Warhol Museum, including “Last Supper” and “Christ Head 112 Times.” The museum’s archives include a plaster statue of Jesus that was painted by Andy around 1938 and is believed to be his first painting.

Warhol’s grave, just outside Pittsburgh, in St. John the Baptist Byzantine Catholic Cemetery, has become a place of pilgrimage, where visitors leave mementos or tuck notes, Wailing Wall-style, beneath the simple tombstone.

Translations

Don’t Sugarcoat the Past

Regarding Barclay Newman’s “Counterpoint” article on the Contemporary English Version Bible (Joseph Blenkinsopp and Barclay M. Newman, “Point/Counterpoint: Pros and Cons of the Contemporary English Version,” BR 12:05), we cannot resolve today’s problems that stem from yesterday’s religious persecutions simply by attempting to retranslate history or by softening the interpretations.

I in no way condone ethnic and religious persecutions documented in the Hebrew Bible or the New Testament or other publications of a historical nature. But to simply recolor such events and proceed as if they never happened only enhances the possibility that such events, no matter how atrocious, could recur.

The only way we can ensure the peaceful future of community and faith is to work on solving today’s problems—and to spend less time trying to rewrite the past.

CEV Is on the Right Track

Congratulations on the informative exchange between Joseph Blenkinsopp and Barclay Newman on what I consider to be a moral as well as academic issue (see “Point/Counterpoint: Pros and Cons of the Contemporary English Version,” BR 12:05). Such issues carry internal ambiguities of definition and methodology and are seldom susceptible to easy consensus. Still, after adequate debate on a wide enough scale, some areas of resolution may emerge. I would hope, therefore, that the BR discussion will motivate many others to join in. The stakes, certainly, are high enough to justify the full attention of the biblical scholarly community to one of the major issues of our time.

Whatever its merits as a particular translation, the Contemporary English Version (CEV) deserves our gratitude for its attempt to develop a biblical translation that is not merely “literally” accurate to the ancient text but, on a deeper level, accurate to the context of both the late first century in which it was written and the late 20th century in which it will be read.

This is no easy task. In between the two, the texts’ original authors and their current readers, stand nearly two millennia of Christian anti-Judaic interpretations that have often strained and twisted the intent of the original authors to fit them into an overarching polemical theory that Jules Isaac so aptly, in reflecting on the origins of the mentality that made possible the Holocaust, termed “the teaching of contempt.” In the process, the Christian polemic formed (some would say deformed) the modern languages of Western civilization in ways that can make virtually any translation today at least suspect of being a carrier of the ancient virus of hate.

For example, look up the words “Pharisee” or “Pharisaical” in Webster’s or the Oxford English Dictionary; you will see that the words themselves have over the centuries taken on such negative connotations as to be inherently derogatory. But surely they were not in the first century, when Matthew’s gospel 006was challenging its readers to be more scrupulous in halakhic observance (I could not use the phrase “Mosaic Law” here, of course, because that too has become a polemically charged negative) than the Pharisees who sit on the seat of Moses. Indeed, the force of Matthew’s argument depends on the readers having a profound respect for “the Pharisees.” Otherwise, the shock value and the whole point of the evangelist is lost. So one cannot blithely translate “the Pharisees” in a contemporary translation without risking a profound confusion of what is at stake in the translator’s decision. What appears to be a literally “accurate” rendering of the original becomes in fact essentially inaccurate by failing to convey the intent of the evangelist. The point of the original is simply lost. Matthew was not trying to vitiate the integrity of 20 centuries of post-New Testament rabbinic development. But that is what a “literal” translation tells readers today he was trying to do. His point about the authority of Jesus is lost in a nexus of post-New Testament patristic, medieval and modern polemics against rabbinic Judaism—a Judaism that did not even exist in Matthew’s day, except in embryonic form.

Many of the points made by Joseph Blenkinsopp are well taken, though Newman’s response indicates that at points (the avoidance of the term “synagogue,” for example) the CEV’s intention had nothing to do with combatting anti-Judaism but rather with seeking to avoid a term its editors felt to be unfamiliar to the popular-level readers for whom it is intended. So one may well agree with much of Blenkinsopp’s critique of the CEV while still maintaining that the CEV is onto something of great importance even if it does not embody its own principles with perfection. Blenkinsopp is, after all, a scholar whose credentials in the area of rethinking biblical theology in the light of the Holocaust are not only impeccable but fundamental to the field. He contributed a seminal article on “Tanach and New Testament,” for example, to an early volume of the Stimulus series that should still be required reading in every Christian seminary and school of theology.^a

So the issue here is not who is more positive toward Jewish-Christian relations. Rather, at the heart of the Blenkinsopp/Newman debate is what we mean by “accuracy” in translation: a word-for-word rendering or a rendering into a modern language that brings the modern reader as close as possible to what the original author was trying to convey to her or his readers? The former can afford to ignore the intervening millennia of linguistic development. The latter, in principle, must not.

No translation can be a perfect and permanent approximation into another language of an original document, even one translated contemporaneously with the original. And the factor of time, which in this case is considerable, adds a further confounding factor. While the original text is frozen in time, the languages into which it is translated over time can change radically. Chaucerian English is closer in time to Koine Greek, but virtually inscrutable to modern Americans. Over time, words gather new meanings and nuances; succeeding generations need new translations in order to strive toward the elusive goal of translational “accuracy.”

The term “the Jews” provides another telling example. When the Gospel of John was set down, Koine Greek did not have in common parlance such terms as “to Jew down” or plants called “Wandering Jew.” These reflect usages introduced into the vocabulary of Western civilization over the centuries. But, like “Pharisaical,” they turn what was in the first century a descriptive noun into a pejorative polemic. The Greek hoi Ioudaioi of the New Testament is quite clearly not adequately rendered by the term “the Jews” as it was understood and defined in modern Western languages by the mid-20th century. This, among other exegetical reasons, is why biblical scholar Gerard Sloyan has suggested the translation “Judeans” for hoi Ioudaioi in many instances where it occurs in John’s gospel. It is simply more accurate to the text.

The term “the Jews” inevitably brings with it—and this is the history of our language, which we cannot change but only take into account as we make our translational decisions—connotations of collective guilt for the death of Jesus, the demonization of “the Jews” that did not take place until the late Middle Ages but that did take place in fact and that we must therefore confront as part of our contemporary decision making. One can wish it were not so. But it happened, and that happening profoundly affected the way Christians read the New Testament. So it cannot be ignored today, whether 008in biblical studies or in translations of biblical texts.

It is on this level that I would deem the CEV to be on the right track, for it is at least asking the right question, whether or not its execution is adequate to the task it sets for itself. And it is on this level that I would very much hope the debate would be joined. In so hoping, I am opening myself to the charge of introducing a moral category into a field that hitherto has seen itself as above such frays. But history is ineluctable. And the field of biblical studies, as exemplified by the scholarship of the 1930s and 1940s in Germany and throughout the Western world, revealed itself to be nowhere near as “objectively” above the influence of Western history as it had thought itself to be. Blenkinsopp may be right that the CEV is a failed attempt to reintroduce scholarly objectivity into a field, Christian biblical studies, that had proven itself by the mid-20th century the captive of anti-Judaic and anti-Jewish theological polemics (as his article, cited above, brilliantly establishes). But the attempt itself should not be abandoned. Gratitude is owed both to the CEV for picking up this most urgent challenge as we approach the third millennium of Jewish-Christian relations and to Blenkinsopp for taking it seriously and responding to it with the urgency the issue deserves.

Esther at Qumran

Where God’s Name Is Absent in the Bible

I found the article discussing the supposed presence of the Book of Esther in the Dead Sea Scrolls (“Has Every Book of the Bible Been Found Among the Dead Sea Scrolls?” BR 12:05) to be interesting, though not convincing. However, the article declares “[Esther] is the only book of the Hebrew Bible that does not mention the name of God.” God’s name is absent as well from Song of Songs! In addition, I believe that Song of Songs is also not to be found among the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Sidnie White Crawford responds:

Rabbi Klein is correct that the Song of Songs also, like the Book of Esther, does not mention God’s name. However, because of its Judean setting, it does give the nod to the institutions of Israel, something that Esther does not acknowledge in any way. Three manuscripts of the Song of Songs were found in Cave 4 at Qumran: They are labeled 4QCanticles a, b and c.

The Origins of the Esther Tale

Articles like Sidnie White Crawford’s, on the discovery of fragments of a proto-Esther, are a real service to Bible scholarship (see “Has Every Book of the Bible Been Found Among the Dead Sea Scrolls?” BR 12:05). The very existence of these fragments among the Qumran deposits argues for their being somehow related to that religious community, so what appears to be simply a royal courtier tale set in the Persian court must have been recognized as a document significant to Jewish backgrounds. Its affinities to Esther are rather obvious, and I believe that the Crawford article makes a good case for the proto-Esther hypothesis.

Having said this, let me elaborate. It must first be understood that the Book of Esther is mostly a work of fiction. Neither Esther nor any other Jewish girl could have become a Persian queen, because that place could only be held by a Persian woman. The best that she could have hoped for was a place in the harem as a concubine. Also the name of the wife of Xerxes (biblical Ahasuerus) is known. She was Amestris. There is no record of a queen by the name of “Vashti” (Persian, Vashiti: “Excellent, Holy One”) or “Esther” (Babylonian, Ishtar). The main theme of the Book of Esther does have some basis in history, however. It was fabricated from the actual case of a heroic Persian woman who saved her country from a counterfeit king.

Herodotus tells the story of an impostor named Guamata, a magus, who on hearing that the crown prince Smerdis was dead passed himself off as that royal person. However, he remained in seclusion so no one could see that he was not the man he claimed to be. In his chambers he was visited only by the women of the royal harem as they took turns coming to him at night. Fortunately, 009Guamata, or pseudo-Smerdis, had a physical defect by which his true identity could be known, namely, his ears had been cut off as the penalty for some previous offense. Otanes, a nobleman, suspected the identity of the impostor, and he devised a way to catch him. His daughter Phaedyma was a member of the royal harem, and together they plotted that when it came her turn to sleep with the pretender king, she would determine if he had ears. Herodotus records the courageous words of the girl. In response to her father’s request that she touch the man’s ears, Phaedyma replied “that she should incur very great danger by doing so; for if he had no ears, and she should be discovered touching him, she well knew that he would put her to death; nevertheless, she would make the attempt.” This is a direct parallel to the words of Esther to her uncle Mordecai: “Then I will go to the king, though it is against the law; and if I perish, I perish” (Esther 4:16). Both stories involve touching: Phaedyma touched the false king’s head, and Esther touched the royal scepter. Furthermore, when the false magus was discovered and deposed, the account of Herodotus says that “the Persians…slew every magus they could find; and if night coming on had not prevented, they would not have left a single magus alive. This day the Persians observe in common more than any other, and in it they celebrate a great festival, which they call ‘the slaughter of the magi.’ ” Compare this with the ending of the Esther tale: “So the Jews smote all their enemies with the sword, slaughtering and destroying them, and did as they pleased to those who hated them…Therefore the Jews of the villages, who live in the open towns, hold the fourteenth day of the month of Adar as a day of gladness and feasting and holiday-making, and a day on which they send choice portions to one another” (Esther 9:5, 19). Thus it is obvious that the Jewish celebration of Purim is simply an adaptation of the Persian day called “Slaughter of the Magi.”

This was the origin of the biblical Esther story, but there were probably many variations on this theme, among which are the fragments found at the Qumran cave.

Sidnie White Crawford responds:

Mr. Atkins’s suggestion that the story of Esther is an adaptation of the story of the false Smerdis has been made before, most recently by J.T. Milik in his publication of the fragments of 4QTales of the Persian Court. However, both stories have all the earmarks of a popular folktale, so it is difficult to prove absolutely that Esther was derived from the Persian story. Certainly, they contain interesting similarities.

Columnists

The Christian Duty to Obey the Law

The parable of the last judgment (Matthew 25:31–46) instructs the disciples in their duties—feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, take in the stranger, clothe the naked, visit those who are sick or in prison.

Did we visit those dying of AIDS? Helmut Koester asks in his column in the October issue (see “The Second Coming Demythologized” BR 12:05). But what of people with cancer and heart trouble? Did we write letters on behalf of prisoners of conscience? Koester asks. How can I distinguish the prisoner of conscience from ordinary lawbreakers? Everyone behind bars seems to claim to be a prisoner of conscience. Did we provide shelters for the homeless? he asks. Of course, although we seem to have some difficulty in getting the homeless to occupy the shelters, at least in sunny California.

According to Koester, we are to cast our votes “in favor of illegal immigrants.” What, exactly, is a vote in their favor? To ignore their illegal status and bid them welcome?

Dr. Koester, your politics are showing. How can I vote in favor of illegal immigrants? I can vote to send them back whence they came until they learn to know and respect the law. Then, and only then, would I vote to admit them as legal immigrants and potential citizens, even as my own ancestors came to this country. Or, in the meanwhile, I can accept my obligation to minister to these illegals in prison, even as I minister to all other illegals in our jails and prisons.

If a law is unjust, I should work to change it. Otherwise, I see a Christian duty to obey it and to support those who enforce it as I await the second advent!

005

Opportunity for Young Scholars: The 1997 Dahood Prize

The Society of Biblical Literature and the Ecumenical Theological Seminary in Detroit, Michigan, is once again holding the Mitchell Dahood Memorial Prize Competition in Biblical Hebrew and Northwest Semitic. Graduate students and junior faculty are eligible for the $1,500 award. The winner is expected to read the prize-winning paper at the Annual Meeting of the Society for Biblical Literature. The manuscripts will be evaluated by a committee of four scholars: Frank Moore Cross, Jr., of Harvard University; Marvin H. Pope, of Yale University; Jack M. Sasson, of the University of North Carolina; and the secretary of the competition, David Noel Freedman, of the University of California at San Diego.

To participate, scholars must be under 40 years on December 31, 1997; must be recommended by an established senior scholar; and must hold a Ph.D. or equivalent degree, or be in the final stages of completing such a degree. The deadline for submission of manuscripts is February 28, 1997. All nominations, inquiries and manuscripts should be sent to the Dahood Prize Competition Committee, Dr. Astrid Beck, Coordinator, Program on Studies in Religion, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, MI 48109–1092.

Confusing History with Science