Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Chapter Six: The Composition of the Pentateuch

(Posted by Paige Britton)

Some Preliminary Notes

Despite some significant scribal errors, this section offers an easier read than the previous two dense chapters. In Chapter 6, Sailhamer homes in on particular examples of compositional strategy in the Pentateuch, laying out the evidence he has collected to support his claim that a single author tied it all together with a certain theological agenda in mind. Let me address the most painful of the scribal errors first, and then we will take a look at Sailhamer's big-picture observations about compositional strategies in the Pentateuch, plus some of his specific examples.

First off, do note that the 2009 edition of this book evidences rather a lack of good copyediting. This observation should not detract from Sailhamer's scholarly efforts, but it is an unfortunate comment on the publisher. Among the more cringe-worthy misses (which will be corrected in subsequent editions) are these two from Chapter 6:
In the second line of the poem in Genesis 3:15, God says to Eve, "and he shall bruise you on the head." (321)
The phrase "in the last days" is found in the introduction to each of these poems but elsewhere in the Pentateuch only in Deuteronomy 4:40. (332; nope, it's found in Deut. 4:30.)
A third puzzling statement comes from Sailhamer's discussion of Urzeit und Endzeit (pp.342-344). Following Franz Delitzsch, Sailhamer offers the insight that the first word of Genesis, "in the beginning" (beresit), corresponds with the Hebrew antonym "end" (aharit), which is used later in the Pentateuch to point to an eschatological fulfillment of hope (Num. 24:14; Deut. 4:30; 31:29). To Sailhamer, the initial reference to a "beginning" (Hebrew resit, German Urzeit) itself calls forth the idea of an "end" (Endzeit), and thus represents an example of deliberate authorial strategy with a theological goal -- i.e., "the beginning" is immediately connected with "the end" in the mind of the Hebrew reader/hearer. However, what are we to make of this statement?
By opening the Pentateuch with a statement about the "beginning" (resit), the author attaches the early chapters of Genesis to the broader eschatological (or apocalyptic) schema in which its events forecast and anticipate those of an Urzeit, a "primeval time." (343, emphasis added)
I am thrown by the idea of the resit "forecasting and anticipating" an Urzeit, since in this discussion resit = Urzeit. One would think Sailhamer meant to write Endzeit there, but maybe I am missing something myself. (I did inquire of the author for clarification on this point, but as of this posting I have not received a response.)

Compositional Strategies: Evidence of Intelligent Design

Apart from these humbling reminders of the fallibility of authors, editors, and readers (all of which I have been and will be -- and equally fallible, at that), Chapter 6 provides a thorough and helpful collection of Sailhamer's specific insights into the intelligent design behind the Pentateuch. As a whole, he insists, the Pentateuch tells a single and complete historical story, made of parts woven together with a plan in mind, ultimately communicating a particular theological message about the importance of "faith." Our tasks as students of the Book is to ask questions about its structure, thus tracing its themes and harvesting its meaning from the evidence of its composition.

A question of first importance is, How does the "primeval history" of Genesis 1-11 relate to the later portions of the Pentateuch? Connections between these earliest and subsequent sections of the text are not obvious, leading some critics to decide that Gen. 1-11 must certainly have been added later. Of course, any theory that suggests a prolonged and gradual development of the Pentateuch necessarily also dismisses the idea of a single author who strategically wove blocks of narrative together. But Sailhamer urges us to look closer: he has noticed that the very structure of the "primeval history" sets a pattern that is replicated throughout the rest of the Pentateuch. It is possible that this evidence of a deliberate and repeated compositional strategy is the key to recognizing the hand of a single author from Genesis through Deuteronomy.

Rather than reproducing all of Sailhamer's lists and examples at this point, I will just summarize the sorts of patterns he has noticed in the microcosm of Gen. 1-11, which are then repeated in the macro-structure of the whole Pentateuch. (For your reference, though, Sailhamer lists the blocks of narrative and the genealogies found in Gen. 1-11 on p.306; the locations of the primeval poetry on p.315f.; and the major blocks of Pentateuchal narrative and their corresponding poems on p.323f.)

Sailhamer identifies the use of poetry at the "compositional seams" of the text as the primary compositional strategy of the author of the Pentateuch. That is, in both Gen. 1-11 and in the rest of the Pentateuch, large blocks of narrative are connected together by poems that draw the reader's attention to larger theological themes. The poems act almost as tour guides, showing the central movement of the story and its most important ideas. Of the "primeval history" Sailhamer writes,
Genesis 1-11 follows an intentional compositional strategy that links together an otherwise loose collection of minor independent narratives. The strategy largely consists of attaching poems to small units of narrative. The poems play a significant role in thematizing the author's understanding of the meaning of each individual narrative. (318)
Each poem is presented as the words of the central character of the narrative, providing thoughtful commentary and reflection that almost always draws the reader's attention to a long-range historical view into the future. This eschatological perspective persistently searches out the identity of the promised "seed," a question that is raised in Genesis 3:15 and then answered at strategic moments throughout the rest of the Pentateuch. Thus, "in the last days" (eschatological trajectory) a "new covenant" will be implemented with the reign of a "future king." This forward-looking, faithful hope for one who will make things right is, Sailhamer believes, the foundational theme of the Pentateuch; later, it would become the guiding theme of the prophets.

As a specific example of Sailhamer's approach to gleaning theological information from the compositional strategies of the text, consider his observations about Joseph and Judah. At numerous points in the Joseph narratives (Gen. 37-50), "Judah is singled out from the other brothers as the one through whom the rescue of the family of Jacob was accomplished" (327). In the poetic blessing pronounced by Jacob, Judah is connected with Joseph's dreams through the verbal repetition of the idea of his brothers bowing down to him (Gen. 49:8b; cf. 37:7, 9f). Although Joseph became Jacob's "firstborn," Judah is identified in his father's blessing as the progenitor of the coming prince (Gen. 49:10; cf. 1 Chr. 5:1-2). Through parallelism and poetry, then, "the king who was to come from the house of Judah is foreshadowed by the life of Joseph" (328). As we learned from Chapter 5, this is one of the "searchlights" of the OT that would shine on Jesus' life, identifying him as the Messiah.

These eschatological references are strongly underscored by the theme of "faith," which Sailhamer observes to run throughout the Pentateuch, from Urzeit to Endzeit (or resit to aharit). If the very first word of Genesis orients us by association toward "the last days," the explicit references to "faith" and "unbelief" prepare us for the later reflections of the prophets and New Testament writers concerning the importance of steadfast trust in the covenant-keeping God of the universe. In this regard, the compositional strategy that Sailhamer identifies is a narrative pattern of emergency, promise, faith, and certainty (cf. the discussion on p.345ff.). A focus on faith raises the further question of the purpose of the law passages in the Pentateuch, which is the subject of the next chapter.

The advantage of tracing theological date through the evidence of deliberate literary strategies, as Sailhamer has done, is the text-immanent nature of the task. A focus on verbal patterns and literary genres keeps us looking at the text as we have it, rather than going "behind" or beyond it into extra-biblical sources or assumptions. Sailhamer's observations about the use of poetry to bind narrative portions together suggests that there is an intelligent design back of the Pentateuch, a planful authorial strategy, rather than the amorphous, gradual development posited by critical scholars.

Whodunnit?

I have saved the topic of the identity of the author till last, even though Sailhamer begins to address it early in the chapter, because I found that by the end of Chapter 6 I had lost track of who was supposed to have done what. Here is a review sketch, to the best of my understanding so far:

Sailhamer clearly rejects the familiar higher-critical view that the Pentateuch evolved fairly randomly over time at the hands of many redactors, each of whom had his own religio-political agenda to promote. In contrast, he repeatedly speaks of a single author, of a holistic "intelligent design," and of univocal compositional strategies that can be identified and interpreted. Yet in reality, Sailhamer's compositional theory involves more than one "composer" of the Pentateuch, whether authorially or editorially involved; and while he rejects a prolonged, unguided evolution of the text, he pictures a "punctuated equilibrium" that allows for a great deal of time to pass between original composition and later commentary.

Thus the sources of the Pentateuch, in Sailhamer's view, fall into three categories:

First, the anonymous written material behind the narratives of events that occurred before Moses' time;

Second, the initial author who stitched the Genesis blocks of narratives together, providing poetic commentary at the major seams; and who then composed the Mosaic narratives (and their connecting poems), so creating "Pentateuch 1.0";

And third, a prophetic editor who reinforced the themes already present by tweaking the poems with further commentary, giving us our current "Pentateuch 2.0" edition.

Which sketch segues into the first of our questions...

1. Based on Sailhamer's explanations so far, can you match the "compositional strategies" with their proper sources? When does the author of Pentateuch 1.0 influence the prophets, and when does this process happen in reverse? Was Moses the author of Pentateuch 1.0? Was Ezra the editor who gave us the upgraded version?

2. On a scale of "insightful" to "forced," how would you rate Sailhamer's observations of compositional strategies, such as poetic commentary and narrative patterns? Do you find his literary evidence convincing?

3. Do you find the them of "faith" a compelling part of the message of the Pentateuch? If it is indeed present as a major theme, how do we explain the historically common interpretive view that the Books of Moses are primarily about law-keeping and obedience, not "faith"?

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Chapter 5: Textual Strategies in the Tanak (Pt 1)

This month's discussion of The Meaning of the Pentateuch is going to be split up into three separate discussions. I did this because 1) the chapter is long; and 2) the chapter is dense. So, if you are following along, we will discuss pages 221-243 in this discussion, followed by pages 243-265 and 265-282 later on in the month.

The previous four chapters were largely focused on what Sailhamer called “text as revelation.” There, he broadly described his hermeneutical approach, how he comes up with a “big idea” for a text, and issues dealing with authorial intent and the nature of Old Testament theology. Starting here, Sailhamer is now going to turn specifically to the Pentateuch: chapter five on textual strategies within the Pentateuch, chapter six on the composition of the Pentateuch, and chapter seven on how the legal codes within the Pentateuch have been composed and structured.

For those of you familiar with Sailhamer's previous works (especially his articles), much of this first discussion is based on his article entitled, "The Messiah and the Hebrew Bible." It's from JETS in 2000, and was his presidential address at ETS that year. Personally, that article changed my life (and I'm not being cliche!). It was through that article that I began to appreciate the Hebrew Bible for what it said, rather than what the NT said about it. Too often our exegesis of the New Testament, especially in those places where it quotes or alludes to the Old Testament, is shallow. When we use the OT to shed light on NT passages, some big theological links begin to take place. For instance, I am currently teaching through Isaiah for an adult Bible study, and we recently discussed Isaiah 40-55. As we considered Isaiah 40, and especially those parts of that chapter quoted in all four Gospels, I wanted the class to consider why the New Testament authors decided to quote that text in relationship to John the Baptist’s ministry. What we found intriguing was Isaiah 40’s focus on the return from exile. That chapter offers comfort to Israel by telling it that its exile is over and that a way should be prepared for them to return to Jerusalem and behold the glory of the Lord. In quoting this text in relationship to John, the NT authors are not only saying that the Messiah is Yhwh (which is a pretty bold statement in itself!), but that the coming of the Messiah is linked with the end of the exile. That is, it was not enough for the people to simply return to the land, the end of the exile was bigger than that. Instead, the end of the exile meant that the people of Israel would have a change of heart initiated by the arrival of the Messiah. Without this Isaianic background, NT exegesis of the passage would miss the main thrust of the quotation, and runs the risk of misunderstanding the mission and theological role Jesus plays for the early Christian community.

A Prophetic Echo

Much of Sailhamer’s discussion in this first part of the chapter is compared and contrasted with the views of the eighteenth century theologian, Ernst Wilhelm Hengstenberg. He first uses Hengstenberg to discuss the idea of an “echo” in divine revelation, and then later to contrastively put forward his own views on the relationship between the Messiah and the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament).

Hengstenberg’s idea of an “echo” in divine revelation essentially boils down to the idea that the prophets in Israel took the liberty to borrow earlier prophetic words (e.g. Isaiah borrowing from Moses), and then giving the words back with interpretations attached to them. That is, by “weaving their interpretations and ideas into the verbal fabric of those texts” (222). Thus, the Pentateuch, in its canonical form, ends up being the words of Moses plus the prophet’s inspired commentary.

For Sailhamer, this is similar, but not quite the same as Walter Kaiser’s analogy of antecedent Scripture. Kaiser’s analogy essentially says that later biblical texts build off of the message of earlier texts, chronologically-speaking. A later biblical book was able to offer commentary on earlier books, even if the prophetic author had a passive role to play. For Hengstenberg, the role of the prophetic author was much more active, and served in an almost conversational role with earlier texts. Importantly, the idea of original author is maintained with Hengstenberg, since the meaning of the texts remain the same, even though there may be a deepening and broadening of the message.

In the end, Hengstenberg’s prophetic echo relates very similarly to Sailhamer’s method of interbiblical interpretation.

The Messiah and the Old Testament

In this section of the book, Sailhamer contends that much of the current trends in evangelical understanding of messianic prophecy can be summarized by a discussion of the comparison and contrast of Hengstenberg and another eighteenth-century theologian, Johann von Hoffman.

Hengstenberg believed that God’s work in the world was accomplished by specific divine interventions. For him, these divine interventions were historical (since they happened), but were not part of history. This is because God’s acts in history have a rather short-range effect, much like a stone which is thrown into a river. It may make a splash, but in a few short yards the effects disappear and the river continues to flow just as it always has. Like the stone, God’s acts in history are certainly present, but are lost outside of the biblical history recorded in Scripture. Biblical history, then, is a record of the diverse instances of those interventions.

For Hengstenberger, the prophets were given visions in a similar way that God acted in history. Their messianic visions were rather short-lived, and would fade out of their minds quickly. The prophetic books represent the prophet’s best attempt to record these visions before they would disappear from his mind’s eye. Thus, “to discover Christ in the OT means finding all the bits and pieces of the one grand messianic puzzle and piecing them back together” (228). Here, the New Testament is an indispensable guide in putting the pieces together, much like top of a puzzle box.

Von Hoffman’s approach was quite different. For him, the texts of Scripture are not messianic at all. What was messianic was the history which is recorded in the text. Said another way, “It is not Israel’s historical writings that are messianic, but the history that Israel itself had experienced” (229). Thus, for Von Hoffman the full messianic sense of the Hebrew Bible is only seen when one observes Israel’s history unfold into the first century and the life of Jesus.

Both of these figures leave important legacies, many of which have been picked up by modern day evangelicals in an attempt to understand the Messiah in the Old Testament.

The first part of Hengstenberg’s legacy is that the meaning of any one messianic prophecy is not immediately transparent. There is some need for translation, which usually happens through a “spiritual” interpretation (typology). Here, the NT is the key, since it holds the anti-type. Second, the messianic meaning of the OT consists primarily in its predictive ability. Thus, in order to be messianic, a text must predict the historical events of Jesus’ life, indexed against the picture of Jesus in the Gospels. Again, here the NT holds the key to the meaning. A third legacy left by Hengstenberg is that the value of messianic prophecy is largely apologetic. Essentially, if the prophetic words are historically true and predictive, then Christianity is true.

Von Hoffman’s legacies are different, in that almost everything in his approach can be taken as messianic, as long as it is historically on its way to Jesus in the first century. In order to understand messianic prophecy, one must understand history as moving toward Christ. Thus, his first legacy is that history, though informed principally by Scripture, needs to be a revelatory prophetic history reconstructed and augmented from the modern picture of the ancient world. That is, if history is messianic, we need to reconstruct it as best as possible to understand its messianic intent. A second legacy is that the OT is not apologetically linked to Christianity. In his method, fulfillment does not verify or validate prophecy, but history. “It is history that validates Christianity, not the miracle of fulfilled prophecy” (232).

One can see the links to modern evangelical approaches. Beyond this, however, Sailhamer wants to provide an alternative to these legacies. Some he likes, others he does not.

Alternatives

The first alternative he suggests is that prophecy is a visions “for” the future. Prophecy is not just a vision “of” the future, but a roadmap on how to get to that future; is it “for” the future. That is the case because Sailhamer thinks that OT messianic prophecy contains elements of both prediction and description/identification of the messiah. They explain and prepare for the future, as well as reveal it.

One of the implications of this alternative is that “the Hebrew Bible [Old Testament] is as messianic as any passage in the NT” (237). This is what separates Sailhamer’s understanding of the Old Testament from other prominent evangelical scholars writing on the topic today in canonical and theological interpretation circles. Many think that the messianic thrust of the OT can only be fully appreciated only once the Jesus rises from the dead, teaches a messianic hermeneutic to the disciples, who in turn write the NT. For Sailhamer, “To say that the Pentateuch is about the Messiah is not yet to say that it is about Jesus. Those are two separate and equally important questions. We must first ask whether the Pentateuch is about the Messiah, and then ask whether Jesus is the Messiah. The Pentateuch (and the rest of the HB) tells us that there will be a Messiah. The NT tells us that Jesus is the Messiah spoken of in the HB. It does so by identifying Jesus as the one about whom the HB speaks” (242n8).

In other words, before the NT can make the claim that Jesus is the Messiah, one must demonstrate from the OT texts that a Messiah was expected. For him, “The prophet’s vision was such that it preserved and carried with it a people who both understood the prophets and were there waiting for the fulfillment of their vision. By falling in line with that vision, the NT writers show not only that they accepted the OT as pre-interpreted, but also that they were in fundamental agreement with its interpretation. That interpretation…began long before the time of its fulfillment” (236).

A second alternative Sailhamer suggests is that the NT is the “goal” of the OT, not the “guide” to understand the OT. Here, again, if one does not understand the OT picture of the Messiah, than one cannot understand the NT picture of Jesus. Instead of the NT, the OT is the messianic searchlight.

A final alternative he suggests is that the fragmented messianic vision we find in the OT does not represent a puzzle, but rather a stained-glass window. This is because the visions follow along a recognized pattern, which will be the main topic of the discussion in upcoming sections. For now, it is enough to say that the vision begins in the Pentateuch, so that the Prophets and Writings are not intent on giving a new vision of the future, but intend to help understand and explain the vision laid down in the Pentateuch (see pg 239-240).

In the end, for the meaning of the Pentateuch, these alternatives suggest that “the Tanakh is an early attempt to formulate a biblical theology that stresses the meaning of the OT as the new covenant” (235).

Andy

Questions for discussion:

1) Are Sailhamer’s critique’s of Hengstenberg and von Hoffman valid? If so, does he understand the relationship between current messianic hermeneutics and those of the 18th century correctly? If not, why?

2) What are aspects of Sailhamer’s messianic hermeneutic that should be affirmed? What are aspects that deserve criticism?

3) In a response article to Sailhamer’s treatment of Hosea 11, Peter Enns came down hard on him and called his solution to Matthew’s quotation of Hosea an “extensive manipulation (i.e., his own midrash) that a messianic assumption can be worked into Hosea. If Hosea himself had intended to say something about Messiah, surely he could have said it more clearly than by a convoluted and mysterious play on an alleged subvocalized theme in the Pentateuch.” After reading about Sailhamer’s method, and his close reading of the structure of the Pentateuch, do you think Enns criticism is correct? Are the messianic ideas of Numbers 23-24 construed by Sailhamer “an alleged subvocalized theme in the Pentateuch,” or is Sailhamer on to something that is worth considering? (Note: Enns entire article is very critical of Sailhamer in general, and I invite you to read it in full from his blog, which I’ve provided links for here in this post)

Monday, April 5, 2010

Chapter Four: "What's the Big Idea, Anyway?"

In chapter four, Sailhamer ends the first part of his book ("Approaching the Text as Revelation") with a methodological discussion regarding the task of "finding the big idea in the final composition of the text."

There is a wide-ranging discussion in this chapter, so I won't attempt to cover all of it! I'll focus here on Sailhamer's definition of a "big idea," his criteria for finding that big idea, and his tentative take on the big idea of the Pentateuch, as he sees it.

What's a Big Idea?
After reaffirming that the proper pursuit of an interpreter should be the "verbal meaning of the author" (150), Sailhamer states that a biblical author's overall "verbal meaning" is the "big picture" that he is painting through his words. He writes,
A big idea is like the picture on the cover of a jigsaw puzzle box. Ultimately, everything in the Pentateuch is meaningful, insofar as it is part of its central meaning. That is how whole texts such as the Pentateuch work. . . .
The meaning of the Pentateuch as a whole effects [sic] our understanding of the meaning of its parts. The big picture tells us how we should understand the smaller parts. It shows us how the parts fit together. (151) 

How does one find a Big Idea in a biblical book?
After granting that a big picture exists, how does one find it?  Sailhamer here basically outlines two essential elements of a compositional approach: Reading and Humility.
  1. Reading and Rereading: "We find the big idea by reading and rereading the text in its parts and as a whole. As we read the text, we begin to formulate a sense of what the text is about (subject matter), and where the author is going with it (compositional strategy)" (151).
  2. Humility: "Finding the big idea of the Pentateuch also requires humility. If our understanding of the Pentateuch does not appear to fit our reading of it, we must be willing to admit that and attempt to reformulate our big idea" (152). Here he also gives a shout out to the history of interpretation of biblical books.
By what criteria? 
How can we make sure our "big idea" relates to what is really in the text? Here is the principle Sailhamer follows: "The best (most valid) big idea is the one that explains the most and most important parts of the Pentateuch" (152).

The exegetical warrant that one might marshal in support of a given "big idea" includes "four levels from which our understanding of the meaning of biblical narratives can be assessed and validated":
  1. The Verbal Level: "The starting point in approaching the meaning of biblical narrative is located in the words themselves . . .  Whatever is said about the narrative and its structure must ultimately find its support in the words of the author and the ways they are grammatically constructed" (157).
  2. The Level of Narrative Technique: "The study of the narrative technique of a biblical text concentrates on the technical means that the author uses to replicate events in the real world" (157). E.g., the backgrounding and foregrounding of certain elements.
  3. The Level of Narrative World: "The nature of the narrative world depicted in the Pentateuch is a function of the author's use of narrative technique" (159). The world of the Bible reveals God's world, which we as readers see "through the eyes of [a] privileged narrator" (159). 
  4. The Thematic Level: The themes found in the narratives, and these "Biblical theological themes should be grounded in the narrative world, the narrative technique used in depicting that world, and the words of the Bible that convey that world by means of its narrative technique" (159).
In sum, "an exegetically warranted interpretation of a biblical text such as the Pentateuch must be grounded in each of these levels of narrative" (160). 


What is the Big Idea of the Pentateuch? 

Sailhamer sketches his understanding of the Pentateuch's big idea, saying that "the 'big idea' of the Pentateuch is about both 'obedience to the Mosaic law,' and 'living by faith'" (156). 

Possible areas of Reflection: 
  1. What do you make of Sailhamer's strong emphasis on a "big idea" of a biblical book? Is this just common sense, or are there legitimate critics of this notion?  
  2. What do you make of these four levels of criteria for finding the big picture? Would they provide sufficient validation of an overarching "big idea"? Does he follow and adequately support this method in the rest of the chapter?
  3. Sailhamer writes that "Commentaries and books about the Pentateuch may be helpful, but ultimately, it is reading and rereading that tell us what the Pentateuch is about and what it intends to say" (152). In light of his approach and this statement, what role does academic scholarship play in the interpretive task? I'm thinking here theoretically (what does the ideal relationship look like?) and also pragmatically (when you go to prepare a sermon/exegesis paper, what do you do first?). This question could also relate to a previous discussion of the nature of Sailhamer's interaction with current evangelical scholars.
As always, feel free in the comments to fill in other elements of the chapter or to bring up related topics (e.g., tasty recipes, movie reviews, tweets you've recently favorited, etc).

Monday, March 1, 2010

Chapter 3 What is the "Historical Meaning" of Biblical Texts

In chapter 3 Sailhamer turns his attention to the question of the proper role of history in biblical hermeneutics arguing that its proper place is philological. With reference to the term “historical-grammatical” he says, “I contend that from its inception in the eighteenth century to the present it has undergone considerable development and change in some of its key tenets” (100). Sailhamer argues that originally, especially with reference to Johann Augustus Ernesti’s use of the term, the grammatical elements of exegesis and the historical elements of exegesis were not distinct elements but one. That is, the meaning of the biblical text was a function of understanding the grammatical rules of the Bible’s languages (Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek).

Sailhamer argues that the events (things) recounted in Scripture are best understood philologically by studying the meaning of the words of the ancient biblical texts. What modern biblical scholars—even evangelical ones—attempt to do is investigate the events (things) of Scripture in the context of ancient history and then interpret the words of Scripture with reference to “our growing knowledge of ancient history” (101). Sailhamer intimates the danger of this approach by saying, “Hence, we come to see the events apart from their biblical setting and within the new context of the ancient world” (101).

The basic difference is that the modern historical approach to hermeneutics fails to appreciate that the events of Scripture are not actual events—as if reading the text were like watching a live news broadcast of events. The biblical narratives are “written texts that recount for their readers a narrative version of the events they contain. They are, of course, not the events themselves; they are verbal versions of those events” (102). Sailhamer here reminds us that when we read the Bible we are given the author’s view of those events—an author who has done his own historical work. To seek to interpret the author’s words from one’s understanding of the events as understood independently of the author through historical reconstruction is to reverse the proper order of the “words and things” dynamic. As Ernesti reminds us “Entirely deceitful and fallacious is the approach of gathering the sense of words from things. Things, rather, ought to be known from words” (114).

Sailhamer ends the chapter by treating the impact of this reversal on biblical theology as witnessed in Friedriech Schleiermacher’s influence in the field. Finally, Sailhamer appeals to the work of Abraham Geiger to show how even the final and fixed shape of the Masoretic versions of the Hebrew Bible reflect a move away from the biblical author’s text and its meaning to a form of the text more in line with dominant Jewish peshat, i.e., historical interpretive traditions—even anti-Christian readings of the text.

Sailhamer’s use of Rembrandt paintings as an illustration of the kind of interpretive perversion of the author’s text personally helped me understand what he envisions as proper biblical hermeneutics more than anything. I simply refer the reader to page 104 for this.

Discussion Questions

1. Is Sailhamer’s use of art, namely a painting, a valid analogy for two different approaches to biblical hermeneutics? Or is it like comparing apples and oranges—the interpretation of wordless pictures and the interpretation of written texts.

2. One common criticism of Sailhamer from evangelicals is that he is against historical background information in biblical hermeneutics. In light of this chapter is that an accurate understanding of what Sailhamer is up to hermeneutically? Or is he just against a certain kind of historical background info.?

Monday, February 15, 2010

Chapter Two (Part 2 of 2) - Forum Post #4

In the last post, we discussed some of the key elements of Sailhamer’s compositional approach to “finding the author’s verbal meaning.”

In this second part, I simply wanted to outline two areas where Sailhamer supports his case in the history of interpretation.

Trading in “words” and “things”

First, Sailhamer argues that “lying behind most Christian discussions of biblical interpretation are the formative ideas of Augustine’s On Christian Doctrine” (74). He explains that “in that work Augustine focuses on the principles and procedures Christians should use to ground their beliefs in Scripture.”

Sailhamer points out that for Augustine, “the meaning of the Bible is found in the interrelationship of two features of texts: its ‘words’ (verba) and the ‘things’ (res) to which its words pointed, or the ‘things’ signified by its words.” In this model, “the purpose of a ‘word’ (verbum) is to point to a ‘thing’ (res) in the outside world” (74).

In addition, the “things” that the “words” of Scripture pointed to could also point to other things. In the precritical period, the “mind of God” is what determined the relationship between the things that the words of Scripture pointed to and any other entities that those “things” signified. With the rise of historical-criticism, the meaning of the “things” that Scripture pointed to were determined by what was deemed to be “historically” plausible. This meant that “history had grown larger than the Bible, and biblical history could locate its meaning only from within the coordinates of that larger history” (97).

For Sailhamer, the historical-critical emphasis on “the role of external reality” was “little more than a continuation of Augustine’s discussion of ‘words’ (verba) and ‘things’ (res)” (77).

Elements of a Precritical Reading of Scripture

In the above analysis, the center of meaning rests in “things” and their relation to other “things.” In contrast, Sailhamer argues that the center of meaning for a precritical understanding of Scripture rests in the words of the text. Sailhamer writes, “In the classical evangelical view of the ‘verbal meaning’ of Scripture, the meaning assigned to the things (res) referred to by the words of Scripture is founding the meaning of those words (verba) as parts of the ancient biblical language” (88). In other words, “the biblical words point to and assign meaning to the extrabiblical things (res) in the real (res) world” (88).

In sum, “the meaning of Scripture was tied directly to the meaning of its words (verba)” (89).

Sailhamer then summarizes four elements of a precritical reading of Scripture:
  1. Biblical Realism: “In a precritical reading of the Bible (OT), it was taken for granted that if a biblical narrative was realistic (which they almost always are!) it must also be real, that is, historically true” (90).
  2. A Single Story: “If the many individual real (true) stories in the Bible (OT) are part of one real world, they must all also be a part of the same real story, one that includes the NT stories and the storied world of the reader in all ages” (91).
  3. Figuration: “Figuration is a way of recounting events so that their basic similarities and interconnectedness become apparent . . . The ‘similarities’ drawn between otherwise dissimilar stories in the Bible are meant to signal a connectedness of the stories and the events they recount. They belong together and are part of a single whole” (91).
  4. The Bible is my Story: “Since the world rendered by the cumulative biblical narratives is conceived of as the only real world (res), it follows that it includes the world of the reader. It is thus the duty of the reader to fit his or her life into the events of the biblical story” (91).
For Sailhamer, the neglect of these elements in the interpretive task results in “the loss of biblical narrative” and the downplaying of the rich theology that the biblical authors have given us in their interpretation of the events that they record.

Questions to Ponder:

1) How do these two areas relate to or inform Sailhamer’s formulations in the first part of the chapter? Do you think Augustine's distinctions play the pivotal role that Sailhamer assigns them?

2) What is the relationship between what Sailhamer calls “figuration” and the interpretive practice of “typology”? Further, how does Sailhamer portray typology, and does this differ from how NT scholars understand and use the term?

As always, feel free to bring up any element of the chapter for discussion in the comments.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Chapter Two (Part 1 of 2) - Forum Post #3

Chapter Two- “Finding the Author’s Verbal Meaning.”

This month we are on chapter two of Meaning, “Finding the Author’s Verbal Meaning.” In chapter one, Sailhamer describes the nature of theology as a re-presentation of the biblical material. In this chapter, he outlines his approach to discerning the meaning of a text, and the Pentateuch in particular. This chapter is the most technical so far, as it deals with fundamental interpretive issues and the implications of his author-based hermeneutic.

The text-centered nature of Sailhamer’s approach is evident in the first sentence of the chapter: “In order to understand the Bible, one must read it” (68).

Sailhamer emphasizes that God has chosen to communicate his word to his people through the means of human language. If we want to hear a word from the Lord, we will have to read the texts he has given to us (and inspired). Sailhamer writes, “Many miracles are recorded in the Bible, but what is most remarkable about the Bible is the Bible itself.” He argues that “through human language, modern readers can understand the thoughts of biblical authors who lived thousands of years ago in a culture very different from our own” (68).

The Pursuit of the Author’s “Verbal Meaning”

For Sailhamer, the goal of biblical interpretation is the verbal meaning of the biblical author. Acknowledging the presence of a divine as well as human author, Sailhamer asserts that the divine intent “is the same as the human author.” By doing this, he assumes in relation to the OT that “what its human author intended to say is the same as what God intended.” In other words, “if we understand the human author’s intent, we will know what God intended” (69).

After establishing the important role of the author, Sailhamer clarifies what he means by “verbal meaning.” It is “the meaning of the words used by the biblical author” (69). He notes that language itself is not static and that authors cannot control the meaning of words in general. They can only make use of the language available to them, and they must utilize that language if they are to communicate to readers. Accordingly, “an author’s intent lies in the given meaning of the words he uses and in the way he uses them in a specific work” (73).

So, the meaning is “not merely in the biblical book; the meaning is the book. It is what the author has said by means of his book that constitutes his intended meaning” (73). Following these general hermeneutical guidelines, an interpreter should seek an author’s intended meaning in the words he has actually written.

For Sailhamer, this task involves knowing “the compositional, or literary, strategy within which the author uses his words” (73). This description is Sailhamer’s understanding of the “grammatical-historical approach,” which he attempts to apply to the Pentateuch consistently.

Summing up his interpretive approach, Sailhamer writes, “One finds the meaning and message of the Pentateuch not in asking why it was written or how, but in asking what was written as the book itself.”

Questions to Ponder:

1) One of Sailhamer’s foundational presuppositions involves the close relationship between the divine author and the human author. What do you make of his resolution of this tension? What are some of the pros and cons of this approach over other approaches (e.g., Sensus Plenior)?

2) One implication of Sailhamer’s text-centered approach is a downplaying of the importance of historical background information for discerning an author’s meaning. He notes that many of the OT books are anonymous and many are historical narratives. For Sailhamer, these are two reasons why focusing on background info is not very helpful (70-72). What do you make of Sailhamer’s point here? Can you think of a compelling counterproposal to his examples or overall conclusions?

Note: We will post the second half of our discussion of Chapter Two on February 15th.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Interview in Christianity Today

For those interested, Sailhamer has done an interview about The Meaning of the Pentateuch in Christianity Today this month. Here's the link to it.

http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2010/januaryweb-only/12-11.0.html

Andy