Readers Reply

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Insight

How Old Was Isaac?

Jonathan Kirsch suggests that Ishmael sexually abused a younger Isaac (Insight, “What Did Sarah See?” BR 14:05). One statement puzzles me: the “deeply enigmatic scene in which we find the 15-year-old Ishmael at play with his 5-year-old half-brother…”

The 15-year-old Ishmael I can gather from Genesis 16:16, 17:17, 21, 25 and 21:5. But how does Kirsch deduce that at his weaning (Genesis 21:8) Isaac was five years old?

Jonathan Kirsch responds:

The age of Isaac on the day of his weaning, which is not specified in the Bible, is the subject of surmise in the sources that I consulted in writing my book The Harlot by the Side of the Road. Gerald Larue suggests that Isaac “would have been three or four years of age at that time” (Sex and the Bible [Prometheus Books, 1983], p. 99). E.A. Speiser allows that Isaac may have been even older: “To this day, weaning may take place in the Near East as late as at three years or more; it is often followed by a celebration” (E.A. Speiser, Genesis, Anchor Bible 1 [Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1987], p. 155).

Rashi Saw Sexual Aspect Long Ago

Jonathan Kirsch would have done well to study the greatest of all Bible commentators, Rashi, as well as others, rather than make the blanket statement that the “rabbis explained away the whole episode [that led to the banishment of Hagar and Ishmael] by suggesting that Ishmael liked to play with a bow and arrows.” Rashi states: “Another interpretation—it denotes the uncovering of nakedness [incest] just as you say (Genesis 39:17) to sport with me.”

Jonathan Kirsch responds:

Thank you for adding the considerable authority of the great medieval commentator Rabbi Solomon ben Isaac (Rashi) to the argument that the biblical depiction of the encounter between Ishmael and young Isaac in Genesis 21:9 is tinged with sexual overtones. The sources to whom I refer, many centuries older than Rashi’s learned commentaries, played down these sexual overtones by insisting that Ishmael “was in the habit of aiming his missiles in the direction of Isaac, saying at the same time that he was but jesting” (Louis Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews, vol. 1 [Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1937], p. 264, citing various sources in talmudic, midrashic and other ancient literature at endnote 211, vol. 5, p. 246.)

Fighting Sexual Abuse

I was most impressed by October’s Insight column by Jonathan Kirsch (see Insight, “What Did Sarah See?” BR 14:05). It is honest scholarship like this that helps the church deal with important issues like sexual abuse. I am renewing my subscription!

Dining in Heaven

It’s Kosher

Robin Jensen (“Dining in Heaven,” BR 14:05) overlooks a straightforward explanation for why the catacomb paintings depict early Christians dining on a meal of fish and bread: out of respect for Jewish Christians’ adherence to the kosher food laws. Biblical dietary restrictions on the consumption of meat and wine purchased from or prepared by a gentile made it impossible for Jews to dine at the home of a gentile on anything other than fish, bread and 006vegetables. To facilitate the partaking of the communal meal by all members of the early church, which included Jews as well as gentiles, Paul recommended the avoidance of meat and wine out of respect for Jewish Christians (see, for example, Romans 14:1–6, 15–20; 1 Corinthians 8:13). Rather than seeing the catacomb paintings as the earliest Christian vision of paradise, as does Jensen, why not interpret them more realistically, as simply depicting the communal church meal described so many times in the New Testament? The significance of these paintings is that they confirm what New Testament scholars have often suspected: that the early Christians observed kosher dietary laws at their communal church meals out of respect for Jewish Christians.

Jots and Tittles

Brown’s Great Achievement

Readers of BR will be grateful to Professor Karl Donfried for his words of appreciation about the late Raymond Brown (Jots and Tittles, BR 14:05). Starting with his commentary on John, I have probably learned more from Brown than from any other single scholar, even if the learning has often come via the wrestling that Brown’s writings invite.

However, one important point needs clarification. In the current climate of agitated literalism, Donfried’s remark that “Brown argued that [the Gospels] are…essentially trustworthy” is likely to mislead those who are unaware that Brown did not “assume that everything in the gospels is historically accurate” (The Death of the Messiah, vol. 1, p. 22 n. 28). The significance of this low-profile statement begins to emerge as Brown continues, “One can believe that the Scriptures are the word of God without thinking that God chose to communicate only in historical accounts. Imaginative poetry, parables and didactic fiction are other possibilities.”

The far-reaching implications of these remarks can be brought out by a couple of examples concerning the climax of the gospel narratives, their accounts of how Jesus came to die. Thirty years ago Brown wrote, “We say only that John’s picture wherein Jesus remains a long period in the Jerusalem area between Tabernacles and the following Passover 007may well be more accurate than the crowded Synoptic picture where he seems to arrive in Jerusalem a few days before his death” (John, vol. 1, p. 309). (On this major point, the Jesus Seminar, in its recent Acts of Jesus, has not yet caught up with Brown. They seem still stuck in the precritical rut that assumes without argument the historical accuracy of the very crowded Synoptic scenario.)

In keeping with this position, Brown holds that the Jewish trial recounted in Mark and Matthew never took place but that it is a construction out of various pieces of tradition of uncertain provenance, and that the decision to have Jesus killed was made privately by Caiaphas and others weeks earlier. As for the Roman trial, Brown opens a large hole in its historicity when he denies that the offer of “Jesus or Barabbas” was ever made (Death of the Messiah, vol. 1, p. 819).

Thus readers of Donfried’s good words risk missing one salient characteristic of Brown as a Bible scholar. He was indeed a church scholar, specifically a theologically orthodox Roman Catholic who remained in good standing even after Rome’s current defenders of the faith took over. But he was also completely fearless in his critical reading of the Gospels in their unique and disconcerting complexity, which weaves together the historical with the simply reimagined and with the purely theological, presented in the form of history-like narratives. I hope that as Brown’s influence continues to spread, people will come to see that a consistently literal reading is as obviously inappropriate for the Gospels as it is for Genesis 1–3.

Isaac Was No Fool

William Propp’s argument about the Jacob/Isaac deception (Jots and Tittles, “Pulling the Goat Hair Over Isaac’s Eyes,” BR 14:05) is not persuasive because it requires that Isaac be, shall I put it delicately, not so bright.

Consider: Isaac sends Esau off for “tasty game” so that Isaac will have the strength to bless him. Absurd. There is food aplenty in camp. And does Isaac really need hunted food to give him strength? He knows that hunting is a chancy endeavor that can take considerable time. He was surprised, after all, when “Esau” returned so quickly. Then Isaac fumbles with “Esau’s” hands and wonders at the discrepancy between them and the speaker’s voice. Then he blesses “Esau!” Surely, with such doubts, he would have done more investigation before engaging in such a momentous act. And to say that clothing would fool the old man again requires that he be not too bright.

Considering the above, either Isaac is senile or, more likely, he has created a conspiracy with Rebecca to have Jacob blessed. Jacob is probably ambivalent at that point, with doubts that the subterfuge will work, but his mother invents an absurd stratagem, and he becomes complicit in the deception. Why the need for trickery? I imagine the politics of the situation made it impossible for Isaac to state openly that he preferred Jacob to Esau. Clearly, Isaac didn’t want Esau left in charge after his death, but the Esau faction must have been too strong to ignore. At the crucial moment, Isaac 010sends him off on a wild goose chase. And who would want Esau, whose lack of judgment is displayed by his willingness to leave at such a crucial moment in his life? This same Esau sold his birthright for a meal. Isaac understood he was not leadership material and connived with Rebecca to have (a perhaps reluctant) Jacob given the mantle of succession.

If the above is valid, then Isaac’s question “Who are you?” makes sense. It is a delicate irony because Isaac already knows who it is, but he must make a show of having some doubts lest the plot be too obvious. Also, he must force Jacob to commit to the plot by openly asserting the lie. If Jacob is not willing to be part of the conspiracy, there is no conspiracy, and everyone must wait for Esau’s subsequent blessing.

Boaz Was No Drunk

William Propp describes Boaz as “a worthy but dead-drunk relative of her [Naomi’s] late husband.”

Why is Boaz labeled “dead-drunk”? Three different sources of the story of Ruth do not suggest that Boaz was dead-drunk at the time of Naomi’s tender trap. Yes, Boaz is content after eating and drinking. Again, Boaz is happy and satisfied after supper. But not dead-drunk.

Moreover, both the speech and the actions of Boaz immediately following his encounter with Ruth do not give any evidence of drunkenness. First, he calls upon Yahweh to bless her. Then he praises her worth. Still more, he points out to Ruth that someone else is a closer relative to her than he is. If drunk, his thinking is quite logical. Lastly, he is concerned for her reputation as a good woman and takes action in the early morning to preserve her good name. Later, he keeps the promise he made to Ruth on that night.

Boaz does not deserve the tag “dead-drunk,” which I suspect was carelessly applied by Professor Propp.

Cheers, Boaz!

Bible’s Lost Books

Sunrise, Sunset

Duane Christensen, reflecting on Joshua 10:12–13 (“The Lost Books of the Bible,” BR 14:05), writes that the passage was “an ancient incantation addressed to the heavenly bodies to prolong daylight, or perhaps to lengthen predawn darkness, so that Israel has time to complete its victory against the Amorites.”

Incantation maybe, but Christensen misunderstands the details of the episode. The battle had begun at Gibeon, the modern Arabic village of el-Jib, on the mountain ridge north of Jerusalem (Joshua 10:4–8). Joshua’s troops had marched “up from Gilgal [to the east] all night” (Joshua 10:9), so they evidently arrived before or near sunrise. The Israelites pursued the Amorite army along the route leading past Beth-horon, west of Gibeon (Joshua 10:10), which means they were heading downhill to the west, in the direction of the Valley of Ayyalon (also spelled Aijalon and Ajalon). When Joshua told the sun to stand still over Gibeon, to the east, and the moon over Ayyalon, to the west (Joshua 10:12), this was not an attempt to prevent the sun from setting; rather, it was 012meant to prevent it from rising any farther. I also suspect that, as the sun is said to have been over Gibeon, Joshua was not hoping to “prolong predawn darkness”; rather, he wanted the sun to remain low on the horizon to make it more difficult for the retreating enemy soldiers to see the Israelites, who had the sun to their backs.

Potpourri

Apologies to Professor Sanders

Am I confused or is James Sanders?

In my newly delivered October 1998 issue, James Sanders states: “For instance, one of the oldest versions of the Septuagint (fourth century B.C.E.), owned by the Vatican and so dubbed Codex Vaticanus…Another fourth-century B.C.E. version…so called Codex Sinaiticus…” (Readers Reply, BR 14:05).

It has always been my understanding that both of these codices are dated to the fourth century Common Era (C.E.), not the fourth century Before the Common Era (B.C.E.).

Neither you nor Professor Sanders is confused—we are. The manuscripts date to the fourth century C.E., not B.C.E.; we were confused because the Septuagint itself is believed to date from the third century B.C.E. This is the second wrong we have inflicted on Professor Sanders in recent months: In a footnote to his “‘Spinning’ the Bible,” BR 14:03, we mistakenly claimed the word “Septuagint” was from the Greek for 70 when it is actually from the Latin. Our apologies to him for both errors.—Ed.

Mormons Accept the Divinity of Jesus

I am a new reader and I have enjoyed BR very much. The scholarship is informative and readable, and the integrity of the overall presentation impresses me (as a former publisher of an interfaith journal in Toronto).

My only comment is directed to one of your readers, who wrote in response to Herbert Basser’s June 1998 article, “The Jewish Roots of the Transfiguration.” Tom Adkins, of Mt. Sinai, New York, writes, incredibly: “…there are many who believe in the Transfiguration as a reality of history (and of faith), yet do not acknowledge the divinity of Jesus—the Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Mormons, to name but two” (Readers Reply, BR 14:05).

As far as the Mormon (Latter-Day Saint) faith is concerned, Adkins is absolutely wrong.

Ask any Latter-Day Saint knowledgeable about his or her faith, and you will discover that the divinity of Christ (literally as “God” and not merely, as Basser suggests in his reply to Adkins, “having godly, supernatural attributes”) is central to it. Indeed, without the divinity of Christ, Mormon theology is utterly meaningless. Christ’s divinity is its theological, philosophical, moral and motivational linchpin.

Insight