Readers Reply

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Letters Good, Replies Even Better

The first thing I do with each issue is turn to Reader’s Reply. There I see the extreme religious variation of those who read BR. It is even more enjoyable to read authors’ replies (defenses?) to letters about articles they have written. Keep up the good work.

Mount Sinai

Documentary Hypothesis Saps Faith

The article “What Really Happened at Mount Sinai,” BR 13:05, by Baruch Schwartz, aptly shows the liberal, subjective philosophy of the documentary hypothesis and the trap those proffering it fall into.

Either the word of God is inspired and is true, or it is not. The documentary hypothesis theorizes that the Pentateuch had several authors and a redactor edited it. This implies the Bible is not inspired.

There are no contradictions in the text of the Bible, and the only ones pointed out by the author are within his imagination. His statement “that the canonical Torah…is made up of four independent documents that have been combined” cannot be proven. The entire article rests on two assumptions. First, we must assume that the documentary hypothesis is true, and two, we must assume that the author, through his subjective feelings about the text, can identify the three documents that, he says, have been pasted into one narrative. No proof exists for either assumption.

The documentary hypothesis and its ilk were developed so that inspiration could be removed from the pages of the Bible. If the Bible is not inspired, it was not written by God and is therefore just a human work and not worthy of obedience. This philosophy denies that an Almighty God can inspire one man to write scripture without the aid of three other accounts and a redactor. How absurd.

How refreshing it would be to read an article in which the authority and inspiration of the scriptures are defended, instead of attacked with nothing more than ruthless, thoughtless assumption and proofless babble.

The Rabbis Wouldn’t Have Been So Sloppy

Belief in the unified integrity of the Torah is based on faith. Similarly, the belief in the cut-and-paste theory is also based on faith and, I might add, much speculation. As Baruch Schwartz says (see “What Really Happened at Mount Sinai,” BR 13:05), “We may never know when this extremely sophisticated literary process took place…Whatever the precise circumstances may be…”

Let’s imagine this group of sophisticated rabbis who wanted to take several versions of their self-proclaimed divine Torah and do a cut-and-paste job on it. How strongly would the people believe in such an editorial effort done for the sake of supposed efficiency while at the same time leaving numerous obvious contradictions!? Surely, once such a sophisticated group began to take liberties with its divine documents, it would have wanted to do us all a favor and remove the supposed glaring contradictions in the text resulting from the cut-and-paste job.

Also, let’s remember the Weltanschauung of the Jews: The Torah was a divinely revealed document and was not subject to tampering. For “rabbis” to engage in such an editorial process would have run the risk of delegitimizing the foundation of the entire religion and incurring the wrath of God! If for some reason they didn’t believe in its divine origin, and if this became known to the people (which it would eventually), what hope would there have been that the Jewish people would preserve, for the future, the edited, newer version any better than they did old versions? Once there is editing, where does it stop?

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Baruch Schwartz responds:

Mr. Goldman’s letter indicates a misapprehension about the source-critical theory. Scholarship does not imagine that the Torah sources were combined by rabbis, sophisticated or otherwise. Clearly, by the time rabbinic Judaism emerged, the Torah existed in its final form and was presumed to be of divine authorship and Mosaic date. The collation and redaction of the documents that made up this Torah took place at a much earlier, prerabbinic time; according to the biblical evidence, this occurred around the time of Ezra.

Combining these documents into one authoritative work can readily be seen as an expression of a profound faith in the divine origin of the laws and teachings they contain and as an attempt to preserve these to the maximum, even though the human authorship of the literary documents themselves was acknowledged. Once this Torah became binding, the need to harmonize all inconsistencies became acute, and its logical corollary, the belief that the book was a unity, cannot have come much later. Paradoxically, the fact that this work was so evidently self-contradictory and yet had to be lived by led ultimately to the notion that the text itself was authored by God, henceforth presumed to have used language in a manner completely different from that of mere mortals. From this point on, of course, no tampering with the text could possibly have been tolerated, for precisely the reasons Mr. Goldman states. A recent treatment of some of these issues is David Weiss Halivni, Revelation Restored (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1997).

“Faith” is a word that can be used in many senses. At least to my way of thinking, the unified integrity of a literary work is entirely outside the domain of faith and belongs, rather, to the realm of inquiry, argumentation and the weight of the evidence. To me it is the canonical Torah, specifically when looked at without the prejudice of dogma, that “stretches the boundaries of credulity.” Nor is my acknowledgment that the historical evidence may never be sufficient to enable us to know for sure precisely when the Torah sources were combined a state-ment of faith but, rather, an expression of scholarly restraint, which I believe is warranted if we are to keep the probable distinct from the entirely hypothetical.

Who Wrote the Second Set?

“What Really Happened at Mount Sinai,” BR 13:05, went into far greater depth than I’d ever considered regarding what occurred during Moses’ meetings with God.

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The one point it did not address, which has always perplexed me, is who rewrote the Ten Commandments on the new tablets after the first ones were shattered.

As I read Exodus 34:28, it seems Moses inscribed the second set of tablets: “So he was there with the Lord forty days and forty nights; he did not eat bread or drink water. And he [Moses?] wrote on the tablets the words of the covenant, the Ten Commandments.” While in Deuteronomy 10:2–4 it clearly states, “And I [God] will write on the tablets the words that were on the former tablets which you [Moses] shattered…And He [God] wrote on the tablets, like the former writing, the Ten Commandments…” Mr. Schwartz himself, citing Exodus 34:1, 4, 28, writes of “the new tablets upon which God rewrites the Ten Words…”

Is it just me or is there some ambiguity as to whether God or Moses did the rewrite? To quote Mr. Schwartz, “What really happened on Mount Sinai?”

Baruch Schwartz responds:

Here is yet another example of how the canonical text, for all its beauty, contains irreconcilable discrepancies. God first states that he will inscribe the tablets and that they will be identical to the first set (Exodus 34:1). Then he changes his mind on both points. He instructs Moses to do the inscribing and tells him (Exodus 34:27) that the inscription is to consist of “these words,” that is, the words in Exodus 34:10–26, which since they were spoken only now, cannot possibly have been on the first set of tablets. Moses complies with these new orders, but to confuse matters even further, the inscription is called “the Ten Words” (Exodus 34:28), whereas elsewhere (Deuteronomy 4:13, 5:19) the Ten Words are what was spoken aloud to the people at Sinai.

The source-critical solution emerges when J and E are disentangled. J (Exodus 34:2–3, 5–27) tells of Moses’ ascent to meet YHWH, to hear of his compassionate attributes and to receive (for the first and only time in J) the terms of the covenant, which Moses is then told to commit to writing. Presumably J went on to say that Moses did as instructed, though J speaks neither of “tablets” written by YHWH nor of tablets written by Moses, much less of two sets. J knows of no tablets at all. E, on the other hand (Exodus 34:1, 4, 28), relates that God instructed Moses to fashion a replacement set of tablets, on which he, God, would inscribe the same words he had inscribed on the broken set. Moses does so, and God carries out his intention. When Exodus 34:28 is read as the direct continuation of Exodus 34:4, it is clear that while the subject of “he remained” is Moses, the subject of “he wrote” is God. The source separation, as well as the content and sequence of the E account, is independently confirmed by Deuteronomy 10:1–4, where Exodus 34:1, 4, 28 is repeated almost verbatim with no reference at all to verses 2–3 and 5–27. As elsewhere, D is familiar with E but not with J.

The combination of J and E in Exodus 34 has placed verse 28 (E) after verse 27 (J), creating a contradiction that has no noncritical solution outside of harmonistic exegesis or midrashic imagination.

Matthew’s Vitriol

The Talmud and the Pharisees

In “The Jewish Roots of Matthew’s Vitriol,” BR 13:05, Moshe Weinfeld argues that the form of early Christian polemic resembles the polemic of other Jewish groups of the time. This would seem logical.

Mr. Weinfeld, however, seems to be making a further point. He appears to imply that not only the form but the actual content of early Christian criticism of the Pharisees is paralleled in the writings of other Jewish groups. Mr. Weinfeld’s reference to the writings of the Dead Sea sect is well taken. His assertion that rabbinic sources also reproached the Pharisees as hypocrites, however, must have startled readers familiar with the Talmud. The rabbis of the Talmud saw themselves as the spiritual descendants of the Pharisees. The work of Lawrence Schiffman and others in the study of the Dead Sea Scrolls has shown that this was indeed an accurate self-perception. Be that as it may, the rabbis certainly saw themselves as the continuation of the Pharisaic tradition. It seems strange, therefore, for the rabbis to accuse the Pharisees of hypocrisy.

A careful reading of the talmudic source quoted to support this assertion will show that rather than a criticism of Pharisees it is, as the commentator Rashi explains, a criticism of individuals “who make themselves appear as Pharisees, but who [actually] are not Pharisees.” What we have here, therefore, is another example of a similarity in form of Jewish polemic of the time rather than a similarity in content.

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Where’s the Other Cheek?

Moshe Weinfeld’s article on Matthew’s vitriol provides a useful postscript to Anthony Saldarini’s article, “Understanding Matthew’s Vitriol,” BR 13:02. It confirms one’s suspicions that Matthew’s attacks on his religious opponents were not unique but, unfortunately, only one example among many of the way various Jewish groups in that time of crisis sometimes attacked one another. Perhaps Matthew and his people were subjected to similar attacks.

But it still leaves us with the basic problem that Saldarini raised but failed to resolve: How could the same writing contain the Sermon on the Mount, with its commandments to love one’s enemies, and this sustained flood of vituperation and calumny.

Having rejected as inadequate the justification that Matthew was simply “following the conventions of the time”—should torture be considered simply one of the conventions of the 20th century?—Saldarini seems to think he has given an adequate justification when he says that unlike later Christians, Matthew exercised “precision” by limiting his accusations to the leaders of the opposed party and did not attack the whole Jewish people.

But the fact that Matthew was not as bad as those who came after him, who defamed the entire Jewish people, does not mean that what he did was right or can be reconciled with the Sermon.

Ol’ Time Religion

Misguided Apocalypticism

BR performs an excellent service in bridging the gap between the academy and the church. Thank you for introducing laypeople to developments and insights among biblical scholars.

However, Ginger Young and David Vintinner’s “That Ol’ Time Religion,” BR 13:05, surprised me because of its departure from the excellent scholarly material we generally find in BR.

My experience with modern apocalyptic preaching and the sincere but misguided folk who practice it has been disappointing over the years. I once sat in a chapel service in a Bible college and heard a famous radio preacher declare that since the Rap-ture was near, Christians could go ahead and run up bills on credit cards and let the Antichrist pay the bills! I have heard dispensational theories about imminent end-time events, with suggested dates for the Rapture: 1982, when the planets line up; 1988, which marks 40 years after Israel’s founding in 1948; the 1990s or 2000, touted by numerous TV preachers, sensationalist supermarket tabloids and radio “prophecy experts.”

Like the artists featured in “That Ol’ Time Religion,” BR 13:05, these folks reinterpret and misunderstand biblical apocalyptic texts, especially Ezekiel, Daniel and Revelation. I believe that most readers of BR realize that these biblical prophecies have virtually all been fulfilled or have no reference to modern nations, but some readers may not. The Revelation of John is typical of apocalyptic literature in declaring the Word of God to people and in referring to events in the time of the author or in his near future. The theme of imminence is a major characteristic of apocalyptic literature, as Revelation 1:3 and 22:10 (“the time is near”), 10:6 (“delay shall be no longer”) and 22:7, 12, 20 (“I am coming soon”) make abundantly clear.

I realize from reading past issues that most readers will not take too seriously the message of imminent doom portrayed in art by modern prophets and prophetesses. Excellent BR articles in the past by John J. Collins (“A Pre-Christian ‘Son of God’ Among the Dead Sea Scrolls,” BR 09:03, and “The Suffering Servant at Qumran?” BR 09:06) and Paul Hanson (“War, Peace and Justice in Early Israel,” BR 03:03) will provide help for those who want to understand biblical apocalyptic literature.

Potpourri

Untittled

In “What’s in a Name?” (Jots & Tittles, BR 13:05) you state that “the blue stroke [or tittle] on the righthand letter would change this dalet [d] into a resh [r].” You meant to state exactly the opposite, of course, because (1) the righthand letter is already a resh, and 008(2) a tittle changes a resh into a dalet—not the reverse.

The Return of Asherah

I have begun to notice a certain dumbing down of BR, which I regret. Your bimonthly quota of Bible literalists canceling their subscriptions, while never cowing you, seems to have had the effect of making you avoid topics that are challenging to the readership’s critical powers.

A case in point is the article by Katharine Dell (“Wisdom Literature Makes a Comeback: Pursuing the Good Life,” BR 13:04). Dell covers the three “wisdom” books of the canonical Bible in about the same spirit as a freshman having to do a term paper review of the literature. “Its [wisdom literature’s] most basic form is the proverb. Proverbs 10–22 present a whole string of maxims about how to relate to others and how to get the most out of life, often drawing a contrast between good and bad behavior. Hard work is praised…”

Good Lord, is that what Dell got out of Proverbs? First, she should have begun with Proverbs 1:20: “Wisdom cries aloud in the open air, and raises her voice in public places. She calls at the top of the bustling streets; at the approaches to the city gates she says, ‘How long will you simple fools be content with your simplicity?’” Wisdom personified—indeed, deified—addresses humankind directly and imperatively.

Lest we miss the message that Wisdom has joined the pantheon, we have in Proverbs 8:22–31: “Yahweh created Me first of His works, long ago, before all else that He made…Then I was at His side each day, His darling and delight, playing in His presence continually, playing over His whole world, while My delight was in mankind.”

What is this but the restoration of the Goddess to Her place beside the God of Israel, whom the post-Exile theocrats had sought to banish from Her place beside Yahweh? Her name is no longer Asherah, as it had been for centuries before the Babylonian conquest, but it is She nevertheless. Read the description of Wisdom in Proverbs 3:18: “She is a tree of life to those who grasp her, and those who hold fast to her are safe.” The Tree of Life motif is Asherah’s signature.

Dell could have done a lot more with Proverbs, and BR must do a lot more with the Bible to get me to renew my subscription.

Katharine Dell responds:

My article was aimed at an audience with little or no specialist knowledge and so a basic introduction to the material was included (see “Wisdom Literature Makes a Comeback: Pursuing the Good Life,” BR 13:04).

In response to the accusation that all I get out of Proverbs is an appreciation of the maxims themselves, it seems to me that these are the primary genre of the book and that they represent the earliest ‘wise’ activity of the Israelite people. Of course there are more profound dimensions to wisdom as a path and as a personified figure in Proverbs 1–9, and these images may have early roots in Israelite thought. But they are basically the result of later theological reflection on the significance of the wisdom enterprise and its personal nature. This is not to downgrade it by saying that it is later, but it remains true that the most basic form of wisdom is the proverb and that ethical injunctions are at the forefront of what wisdom is.

Wisdom personified is not wisdom 009deified—every effort is made to make it clear that wisdom is created, brought forth before all creation, that it is God’s partner in creation. There may well be overtones of a goddess myth here—that is a well-known scholarly opinion. However, in my opinion, what makes Yahwism distinctive is that there is no consort; rather, I read this text as demonstrating a feminine dimension to divine activity. This is not simply the work of “post-Exilic theocrats”; from the start, what made Yahweh distinctive was his oneness.

Finally, in response to the accusation that I could have done a lot more with Proverbs, I had a word limit, and I had to treat the rest of the wisdom literature as well. It is clear that each of us will have a different agenda when approaching any text.

The Wright Stuff

Anthony Saldarini is a majestic scholar, and I was thus surprised to read his milk-and-water review of N.T. Wright’s Jesus and the Victory of God (Bible Books, BR 13:05). Wright has given us a sorely needed remedy to both liberal reductionism and uncritical traditionalism. His work on Jesus will be surpassed only by John Meier’s trilogy, A Marginal Jew, when the latter is finished.

Saldarini’s claim that Wright’s methodology “owe[s] more to theological interests and presuppositions than he admits” is, first of all, not correct: Nowhere in The New Testament and the People of God or Jesus and the Victory of God can one find theological question-begging. Second, Saldarini’s criticism itself almost begs the question because Wright’s point is that there is an arrogance in the pretentious methodology of doing “pure history” divorced from theology. That is just as wrong as attempting the Bultmannian stunt of doing theology without solid controls from history—a methodology favored, for instance, by Luke Timothy Johnson. For the idea of purely “neutral” or purely “objective” history is a figment of post-Enlightenment imagination. (Actually Meier’s work, despite its unsurpassed excellence in scope, depth of discourse and sane conclusions, succumbs to the pointless “quest for objectivity.”) Wright speaks, importantly, of religious “world-views,” which invoke history and theology alike. As difficult as it makes the great religious task, history and theology must complement and check each other.

Of crucial significance is Wright’s analysis of just what the concept “kingdom of God” encapsulated for ancient Judaism, for primitive Christianity—and, then, for Jesus “in-between.” Judaism of the Second Temple period hungered for the coming of Israel’s God, which would involve in some way (1) the real return from exile (the new exodus), (2) the final defeat of all evil and (3) the return of Yahweh to Zion. Jesus, like other messiahs of his day, embraced this Jewish hope and made himself the center of the dream. But unlike the royal pretenders and wilderness prophets who attempted to bring about the kingdom, Jesus attempted to usher in (part of) the kingdom in and through himself. His “triumphal entry” into Jerusalem, his symbolic destruction of the Temple (a foretaste of the year 70 C.E.), his passover/eucharistic meal (Last Supper), and his death on the cross and subsequent resurrection were precisely those things that brought about the real return from exile and the defeat of all evil. (More precisely, they brought in “half” of the kingdom, with the rest of it to come later at the general eschaton/resurrection.) Jesus did not simply announce that Yahweh was returning to Zion. He enacted, symbolized and personified this event. He did not think that the Temple would be rebuilt as predicted in scripture, nor that the gentile nations would flock to a new, liberated Israel. He believed, stunningly, that his own (resurrected) body would serve as the “new Temple,” that the primitive church would constitute the “new Israel.” When orthodoxy acknowledges that Jesus “suffered, died, and was buried; on the third day he rose again,” it is correct, but it so often forgets that its creed is fundamentally Jewish even if radically revisionist at the same time.

Saldarini is, of course, correct in pointing out that Wright’s Jesus will not attract those “immersed in a secular society.” But that is secular society’s problem, not Wright’s. His book merits a better review.

Letters Good, Replies Even Better