Readers Reply

004

Dumbeth We Down?

I am a charter subscriber to BR and enjoy it very much. But I was shocked to see the article title “Clothes Maketh the Man,” BR 14:01. Maketh is a third person singular form of the verb to make. One could use the word correctly in a title such as “Dress Maketh the Man.” In this same issue, reader Dave Kase says he has noticed a “dumbing down” of BR. I’m afraid he may be right. I sincerely hope not.

Elie Wiesel

Genesis Tales as Allegory

After reading Elie Wiesel’s essays on Genesis, I must express regret that he misunderstands and underrates Gene-sis (“The Serpent,” BR 13:06 and “Cain and Abel,” BR 14:01). Ancient scripture, of which Genesis is an example, was often composed on two distinct levels: a prescient one for priests and sages, and a simple version for common folk. In classic terms, these are arcane (sacred) and profane, respectively. “Profane” did not then have the connotation that it does today but, rather, meant “before the temple,” that is, outside of it.

First, consider the Cain and Abel story, since its message is more easily recognized as allegory—although its philosoph-ical message is lost on literal-minded Bible readers. It is at once a keen observation and a prophecy, referring to the eternal conflict between two ways of life—the pastoral, or nomadic, represented by Abel, and the permanent settlement that leads to towns and cities, symbolized by Cain. “Abel” has been done in by “Cain,” but not without a struggle and some role reversals. Sometimes the tables were turned, as we read in Joshua’s destruction of Jericho; “Abel,” in that case, kills “Cain.” Likewise in the example of Genghis Khan and Attila the Hun. History records civilizations often overrun by barbarians—who, in turn, become civilized and thus illustrate Cain’s triumph over Abel.

It must have been an old story that circulated long before it made its way into Genesis (in which the story is told from Abel’s point of view). Taken literally, however, it falls apart—especially when we get to the matter of Cain’s wife (where did she come from?), not to mention his “building a city” in Genesis 4:17. What’s even worse, we then have to concede that a change of gods has taken place in just three pages! The first one intends Man to be a farmer and a vegetarian: Herbs and fruits are to be “meat” for him (Genesis 1:29). But then we meet Abel’s god, who prefers blood sacrifices and burnt offerings (Genesis 4:4). No, clearly we have an allegory here in which Cain and Abel are metaphors for two distinct and conflicting lifestyles.

Genesis holds profound ideas if read with brain engaged. Adam, as Man, chose self-determination and therefore chose to challenge Nature (God). Cain, over Abel’s objection, has prevailed, plowing the ground, cutting down forests, scarring the earth with colossal pits from which to extract treasure, overlaying fertile soil with concrete, and so on. It’s presented as destiny—but one can appreciate Abel’s point of view.

The Whole Bible

Will Wonders Never Cease?

Thanks for the article “What We Miss By Taking the Bible Apart,” BR 14:01, by Rolf Rendtorff. It’s refreshing to get another viewpoint once in a while.

A Stroke of Inspiration

What a wonderful surprise it was for me finally to read an article in your magazine written by an enlightened, modern scholar that actually had the courage to 006stand up for what the Bible is all about and to suggest that the writer, or writers, of the Bible actually knew what they were doing and what they were conveying to their audience. Almost sounds like they could have been somehow inspired, doesn’t it? My wholehearted thanks and congratulations to Rolf Rendtorff.

Greater Than the Sum of Its Parts

Teaching the Bible as literature in a public high school English class can be a frustrating, thankless task. My religious students often suspect that I am trying to destroy their faith by reducing the Bible to a patchwork of documents stitched together by human beings of greater-than-average fallibility. I appear to them as the incarnation of secular humanism at best, and at worst, a servant of the anti-Christ. Nonreligious students, skeptics and atheists find it difficult to believe that the Bible can be taught in a public school at all: They view me as a Bible-thumping revivalist bent on ramming the Holy Book down their throats.

Between these two extremes are religious students who find literary approaches to the Bible interesting and nonreligious students who, despite their incredulity, welcome the chance to learn something about religion within a secular framework.

I believe the Bible is one of the few absolutely essential books; without understanding the Bible, we cannot understand literature. I try to communicate this central idea to my students. I always find Bible Review relevant to my teaching, but Rolf Rendtorff’s “What We Miss By Taking the Bible Apart” was fascinating and moving. He has concisely stated the position I have come to through years of study and class discussion.

One lesson that I always teach concerns the two stories of creation. The textbook I use with my students presents the two accounts as separate and poses incisive questions to point out differences between the two. I am careful to refer to the differences as “differences,” and I try to avoid words like “discrepancy” and “contradiction.” Students draw their own conclusions about the meanings of the differences. At first, my objective in teaching this lesson was to bring students to an understanding of the different perspectives and styles found in the J and P strands of the Hebrew Bible. Later, I changed my objective to include the meanings of the differences in the text we have today. This change leads the class discussion into a consideration of the concepts of transcendence and immanence, abstraction and personification. High school students aren’t as interested in the historical forces that gave rise to the various conceptions of God as they are in the conceptions themselves. Many students have assumed divine transcendence; for them considering immanence is a new experience. Trying to understand why the biblical writers wished to retain both views leads to substantive discussions about the characterization of God in the Bible. Rolf Rendtorff is right: “The text needs to be considered in its final form.”

What might be dismissed as contradiction can be appreciated as paradox. When the students finish the study of the Bible as literature, a few of them have glimpsed the mystery and complexity of the book of books. They can only do this if teachers will remember that the whole is more than the sum of its parts and that this is especially true in works of literary art.

God Inspired Many Authors—and Editors

The letter from John Henson regarding the documentary hypothesis (Readers Reply, BR 14:01) states that the number of authors and editors who worked on the biblical text implies that it is not inspired. Too many people insist on telling God how he must conduct his business. There is absolutely no reason why He cannot have inspired every person involved in the development of the Bible.

The point is well made, I think, in Rolf Rendtorff’s article (see “What We Miss By Taking the Bible Apart,” BR 14:01). His illustration from the Genesis stories implies that God used multiple sources and editors to provide people of faith with the most complete revelation. I find no incompatibility between the idea of the entire Bible as a unified, complete, inspired revelation of God and the idea that the present unity is built up of many inspired parts.

Bless Rendtorff

God bless Rolf Rendtorff! He hits the tip of the iceberg. Let the Bible work on us instead of vice versa—what a notion!

007

Paul

Guide for the Perplexed

In his review of three new books on Paul (“The Mystery of Paul,” BR 14:01), Bruce Chilton appears to be inordinately perplexed when he reports that Paul’s convictions and ideas are essentially “mysterious.” Perhaps if he had also reviewed the splendid book by Martin Hengel and Anna Maria Schwemer, Paul Between Damascus and Antioch: The Unknown Years (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1997), he would be less mystified. These authors make a strong case for the view that the “vision of Christ before Damascus, the blinding of the persecutor, his healing through Ananias as intermediary, his baptism and contact with the Christians and the beginning of his messianic preaching in the synagogues of Damascus are historical. Bound up with this is the receiving of a revelation of Christ full of content, from which Paul later derives his gospel.”

Obviously, if Martin Hengel (whom Tom Wright describes in his What Saint Paul Really Said as “probably the most learned New Testament scholar in the world today”) and his colleague are correct in this account, then Paul’s ideas would seem to be far less mysterious than Chilton allows.

Why does Chilton place so little stock in Paul’s conversion experience and its aftermath? Or does he find Hengel and Schwemer incredibly naive in this regard?

Bruce Chilton responds:

What is referred to here, of course, is not the original idea of two scholars, but a repetition of Paul’s conversion as recounted in the Book of Acts, a work published around 90 C.E. Anyone who has read Acts 9, together with Acts 22 and 26, will see that there are important differences within the traditions of Paul’s conversion in this secondary source. That is one of the reasons critical scholarship has accepted the principle that an accurate reading of Paul should begin with his own letters, not with Acts. Paul himself speaks of the ground of his conviction as residing in the third heaven, where inexpressible truths are told (2 Corinthians 12:2–4). Most people, including those who composed Acts, would agree that such visions and revelations are a matter of mystery. Incidentally, Martin Hengel also affirms that insight into divine truth is a matter of revelation and cannot be reduced to material experience.

Can We Really Understand Paul?

When I saw the article reviewing A.N. Wilson’s book on Paul, the name sounded familiar (see “The Mystery of Paul,” BR 14:01). This is the Wilson who recently wrote C.S. Lewis: A Biography (New York: Norton, 1990). Unfortunately for Wilson, many people who knew Lewis personally are still alive, and those I have read all agree that Wilson’s biography is gross misinformation. Some say that although Wilson’s writing style is excellent, he lacks good information or ignores what information he does not want. Though Bruce Chilton enjoyed Wilson’s writing style, should we trust anything Wilson writes about someone long dead—especially when no one is left alive to correct the picture?

As much as I admire the other two authors reviewed with Wilson (Jerome Murphy-O’Connor and N.T. Wright), I am not sure they can get any closer to the “real” Paul than Wilson can. Though I agree with Bruce Chilton’s assessment that these three books “rely too much on guesswork rather than on critically sound arguments,” I don’t think that there are critically sound arguments available to write such books as these.

Jesus in the Movies

And the Winner Is…

I very much enjoyed “Jesus in the Movies” BR 14:01, but it seems to me that Jesus is likely not “the most filmed figure in history,” as author Peter Chattaway claims. I’m tempted to say that Satan probably wins this contest. Satan has the advantage of being able to appear in many guises—compare his appearances in the movies Devil’s Advocate, Deconstructing Harry, Time Bandits, Prince of Darkness, and any film in which a person is tempted by an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other.

Of course, if Peter Chattaway is emphasizing the “in history” element, one could 008argue that Satan is not a historical figure. This would also negate Roger Ebert’s response to the question—when I wrote to him about whether Jesus was the most filmed figure, he answered, “Mickey Mouse has Him beat, hands down.”

Peter Chattaway responds:

Mickey Mouse and Satan—these are formidable competitors, indeed! And they’re not the only ones. According to The Guinness Book of World Records 1998, Sherlock Holmes holds the record for most portrayals, having appeared in 211 films.

How one determines these things depends, of course, on which films one considers: features, shorts, live actions, cartoons, television, studio films, independent productions, church-based educational films, and so forth. Personally, I doubt the supremacy of Mickey Mouse; Disney keeps a notoriously tight rein on its characters, but no one company or culture owns a copyright on Jesus.

As for the comparative number of films that have portrayed Jesus and/or Satan, that may depend on how broadly one wants to incorporate the other “guises” in which they appear. Some films, like Strange Cargo (1940), feature Christ-like figures without making the connection too explicit.

There are also numerous films that make prominent use of crucifixes and statues of Jesus—some of which seem to come alive, as in Antonia’s Line (1995)—but to include these films, I concede, may be cheating.

Potpourri

Joseph’s Prayer Shawl

There is one other great detail in the Mérode Altarpiece (Detail, BR 14:01). Hanging in the background in the central panel, but very clearly depicted, is Joseph’s tallis (Hebrew, prayer shawl; cf. Numbers 15:38). Over the years I’ve enjoyed many a gallery talk at the Cloisters in New York City, some of which stopped at this masterpiece of medieval art. But not one lecturer has made this point, although some do mention the mousetrap. We must remember that Joseph was a Jew as well as a carpenter, and that he would have worn his tallis when at prayer, and that the tallis might have had pride-of-place in his house when it wasn’t in use.

Dumbeth We Down?