Threads from Henry's Web

Category: Bible Backgrounds

  • Independence and Bible Study

    In working on YouTube recently, and particularly on this response to a KJV Only presentation, I’ve noticed that many people think that there is great virtue in independence when it comes to Bible study. Statements like “I didn’t depend on any scholars in coming to this view” or “I didn’t read any commentaries, just the Bible” or “I get everything direct from God” are quite common.

    Even the seemingly pious “show me from God’s Word!” can be a declaration of independence. It calls for someone to convince you to your satisfaction, that you’re wrong. Now I’m not saying that this is completely incorrect. You do, after all, have to make the decision in the final analysis. My question is whether, in doing that, you or I have followed the proper procedure and exercised the proper humility.

    You see, we are all dependent on someone when we turn to the Bible. Those who don’t know the source languages are dependent on translators. But even those who do know the languages are still dependent on lexicographers and grammarians for some of their knowledge. In addition, we are all dependent on various historians, archaeologists, commentators, paleographers, and so forth in getting necessary information about the text.

    This deals with the proper procedure. When I complete the study of the passage I should be able to answer “yes” comfortably to this question: Have you consulted good authorities on those things you do not know well yourself? It’s important to be honest about this, because we tend to like to “lean on our own understanding” after a certain amount of study. That’s dangerous! I don’t know how many times I have discovered errors in detail on something I should know when I check it against a good, authoritative source. Another pair of eyes will find even more errors.

    Then there is humility. By humility I do not mean that one gives up one’s own judgment and discernment. Rather, I mean that one is willing to learn from anyone, that one takes an open attitude, and that one seeks correction. You may have to reject some of it. Proper humility in this case is not cutting yourself off from correction, listening honestly, and giving full consideration to the possibility that you may be wrong. After you have done that, you make your decision.

    In practice none of us are independent. We should acknowledge that. But we should realize that such independence would not be a good thing, even if we could attain it.

  • Literary Types in Genesis 1-11

    Pardon me for using “types” where “genre” would be more precise, but I frequently do so in teaching in order to avoid having to explain details. Further, “genre” doesn’t maintain the same meaning across all critical disciplines.

    In my previous post on the historicity of Genesis 1-11, I wrote as though one could establish a single literary category that would cover all 11 chapters. But those who have studied this passage will realize this is not so. At a minimum, Genesis 5 and 11:10-32 (genealogies) differ from the remainder. Chapter 10 is also in a category of its own, and its relationship with the rest of the book could provide some interesting discussion.

    I personally accept the general outlines of source theory, and thus see a combination of multiple sources in both the stories of creation and the flood. But those fault lines, as interesting as they are, are not what I’m talking about now. Whatever one believes about the background, somebody, somewhere felt that the material fitted together.

    If we assume that the person who did so was not an idiot, then they probably had some idea how things connected. Assuming that blatant chronological issues are the result of oversight is questionable at best. The author or final redactor, whichever you prefer, probably understood the text in such a way that it didn’t blatantly contradict itself.

    Because of this, it would be worthwhile to see the difference between Genesis 1:1-4a, which I would see as liturgy, and Genesis 2:4b-25, which is much closer to myth in its literary character. Which of these is more likely to be concerned with chronology? Well, Genesis 1 seems to say more about it, but Genesis 2 is more likely to have that as a concern based on its form. Even myths are concerned with sequence.

    So we can identify at least four types of literature, liturgy, myth, genealogy, and a more generalized tribal genealogy along with some geography in Genesis 10. In deciding historicity we need to address each of these types. I do acknowledge that others might disagree on the categorization, which is precisely how it should be. Those are the questions of which good historical study of the Bible is made.

  • Historicity of Genesis 1-11

    I think those of us who are not all that conservative, as in moderates and liberals, do everyone a disservice with the admonition, “Don’t take it so literally.” Unless, of course, we break down “not literally” a bit further. The word “literal” has gotten muddied in the public understanding, and is often taken to mean “true,” so “not taking it so literally” is “not taking it so truthfully.” But more importantly, literal is (or should be) a fairly narrow category and “not literal” involves quite a number of possible types of literature.

    But there’s another question that non-scholarly readers of the Bible have pretty regularly: Just what is it that I’m supposed to get out of this? I’ve heard this many times teaching groups of United Methodist laypeople, well educated folks, but not Bible scholars. They’re pretty well convinced they shouldn’t take it too literally, but they are often uncertain where to go from there. Then they hear anyone who doesn’t take it literally condemned as one who doesn’t believe the Bible at all.

    To narrow that down again, just what historical information might one get out of a non-historical passage of scripture? In the case of Genesis 1-11, I have frequently noted that it is not narrative history. But “narrative history” is not necessarily equivalent to “no historical value at all.” There is more of a continuum (one of my favorite words) of possibilities for historical values, and a number of twists and turns.

    For example, I could say that a book is a work of fiction. Does that mean that it has no historical value? Consider these examples:

    • A fantasy novel/series, not set in the real world, such as Lord of the Rings
      One might extract information on the time of the writer, but vanishingly little information about the real world. Even extrapolating to the time of the writer based on his themes would be a difficult proposition.
    • A generic novel set in the real world, Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged
      This book is intentionally set in an indefinite future (from the time of writing) with generic titles for government officials such as head of state rather than president, for example. There are incidental references to real historical figures, numerous references to real places, but also numerous references to things that don’t exist. One would get a very skewed view of the United States if this is one’s source. Yet one would find historical data embedded in it.
    • A novel set in a realistic historical period, Rand’s The Fountainhead, for example.
      I’m distinguishing this category from historical novel in that presenting historical information is not part of the author’s intent, yet the setting is intended to reflect a specific period.
    • A historical novel
      Often a fictional story intended to present a realistic view of a period of history. While the actual characters and character-specific events are fictional, the background and the major historical events are generally intended as accurate.
    • A biography
      Generally this is intended as true, yet dialog and information about the subject may limit the general historical value.
    • A history with a mission
      Portrayal of a period of history intended to present a particular philosophy of history, or the viewpoint of a particular group or something similar.
    • An objective (wishfully) history
      In this case, the author intends to write a sequence of events from an objective point of view in order to correctly portray those events, not accomplish some philosophical goal. Absolute objectivity is impossible, I believe. I’m speaking about the intent.

    That gives a kind of summary of some of the levels of historicity that one might find. Consider the gospels briefly. It is fairly common in a course in the gospels (or one particular gospel) to note that the gospel writers did not set out with the intent of writing history. They are presenting a picture of Jesus. Many things that an objective historian (remember: intention!) might present are subordinated to the picture the writer is trying to portray. Some people here this comment as a statement that the gospels contain no historical information, or no reliable historical information. That is certainly never my intent in making the statement. I’m simply pointing out that we should expect the needs of the historian to be thoroughly subordinated to the needs of the biographer and even more so to the theologian.

    So let’s briefly look at some historical options in Genesis 1-11 now that we have some loose collection of ideas to which to compare.

    The first option, of course, is to regard this portion of scripture as narrative history. Many Christians have done so. This assumption leaves a number of details to be discussed. How detailed is that history? Is it chronological? This latter question can come in two parts: 1) Is it intended as sequential or descriptive in another sense? and 2) Is it intended to portray the passage of time accurately?

    Young earth creationists (YEC) would answer that it is narrative history, that it is intended to be sequential, and that the passage of time is intended as an accurate portrayal. This involves two aspects of the text. First, we have the days of Genesis 1 & 2. In the YEC position, these are literal, 24 hours days. But secondly we have the years in the genealogies of Genesis 5 & 11. Here the YEC position is that the years are real years, are accurately portrayed, and that there are no gaps in the genealogies, in other words they are complete.

    That’s a substantial number of claims. I would simply note that if you start from level ground, looking at the story in the context of ancient near eastern literature, none of these things is obvious. Nonetheless it is not my purpose to evaluate, so much as to point out the possibilities.

    Old earth creationists (OEC), differ from this in that while most of them would hold that the sequence is intended as true, the flow of time in the narrative is not even. For example, between Genesis 1:1 and Genesis 1:6 there would be nine billion+ years, while between Genesis 1:6 and 1:11 there would be a bit less than 4 billion years, while starting with verse 14 we have some difficulties with sequence. The genealogies are assumed to contain gaps so as to provide a longer history following Adam and Eve.

    Some OECs read the passage more symbolically, i.e. it contains valid historical information, but this information is presented in the form of symbols. Thus sequence, consistency of timing, and referent can be adjusted substantially while still maintaining that there is historical content.

    Finally, Christians who accept evolution, but not all theistic evolutionists, most commonly see the passage as mythology, i.e. God presents truth through the medium of the cosmology and the way in which such information was presented in that culture. Now one might think this means there is no historical information in the passage, but again that is not the case. It will still present information about how the world was understood in its time, and how the authors understood themselves and their relationship to God. That is historical information, even though that is not what is intended.

    Note that there are some Christian theistic evolutionists who would also see these passages symbolically and find some sense of a presentation of the way it happened in the passage. Thus there are a variety of views on the historical content of the material, and those views don’t precisely match. I have been extremely brief here and probably have left some holes. Hopefully readers will quibble with me in the comments to some can get filled in.

    Two additional notes:

    1. I don’t regard any of this as an issue with inerrancy. I know folks who accept Biblical inerrancy who have no problem with the idea of regarding a passage as symbolic or as myth, provided that one is assuming that was the way God intended it to be presented. Then the portion that would be inerrant is whatever message God intended to present in that medium. I don’t accept inerrancy, but I like my debates over the topic to relate to actual disputes!
    2. I distinguish here Christian theistic evolutions as there are numerous other options for those who are theists but not Christians, including ignoring the Bible completely. Deistic views of evolution similarly have no need of discussing how Genesis is understood. This is strictly a Christian or Jewish enterprise, and is different in nature for each of those groups.

  • Peter Enns, Incarnational Inspiration, and Seminary Authority

    In 2005 Peter Enns, a professor of Old Testament at Westminster Theological Seminary, published a book titled Inspiration and Incarnation, and it is likely going to cost him his tenured position. I’m writing about this on this blog because of the implications of his incarnational view of inspiration for Biblical interpretation. I have not yet read this little book. I found out about it through this controversy. Let me comment to you the Christianity Today news article, and this review in JETS by G. K. Beale. The review is not particularly favorable, but it follows the kind of standards for writing and citation that would suggest it’s fair. (HT: Everyday Liturgy)

    What am I writing about, if I haven’t even read the book? Primarily I’m writing because of the impact on good education of seminary policies such as this one. Secondly, I know of other cases in which discussion of inspiration leads to this kind of reaction, to the detriment of serious consideration of the issues. Often the people in the pews are left without any sort of answers, or better any sort of structure in which to discuss answers because the theologians are avoiding them. Thirdly, I publish a book that uses the incarnational metaphor, Who’s Afraid of the Old Testament God?, by Dr. Alden Thompson, who has also elicited some controversy due to his view of inspiration. Finally, I hold an incarnational view of inspiration myself, as espoused in my book When People Speak for God.

    If you were to take the quotes and summaries by G. K. Beale in his review, not do any contortions to try to put a good face on them, i.e. take the more liberal interpretation, then you would have something like my own position. I will have to see when I get a copy of the book myself whether I think these things are fair with reference to Dr. Enns. I would simply note at this point that none of the material quoted appeared at all shocking to me, but then I’m not an evangelical.

    The problem I have here is with the seminary. First, let me say that I fully accept that a seminary belonging to or sponsored by a confessional body, has every right to control what is taught there. At the same time, the rest of us have every right to criticize their choices. The value of that criticism has nothing to do with changing the seminary. They’re not going to listen to me, and I wouldn’t even argue that they should. I’m not evangelical, I’m not Calvinist, and I don’t like the Westminster Confession.

    I criticize nonetheless because I believe we need to be aware of the problem of education that is constrained by a specific confession and that won’t allow anyone to question or work around the boundaries. The area of inspiration is one that has many lay members confused, and it is one where our young people who go to secular universities find themselves generally unequipped. When we constrain the playing field so thoroughly that we can’t discuss the type of issues that Dr. Enns raises, then I question the quality of the education that results.

    There is here a great gulf fixed between a secular, academic education, and an education at a confessional institution. I’m not sure how one should draw the boundaries if one belongs to a confessional church, but if one’s convictions are to be sound I think one has to have honestly explored alternate possibilities without the fear that stepping across the line will ruin one’s life.

    The combination of those elements is very difficult, and perhaps even impossible for a very confessional church, which is why I avoid such a thing. I am jealous of the ability to explore, to be wrong, and perhaps later to correct my course.

    In the final analysis, however, those who want to explore real answers to questions of inspiration will probably have to break the bonds in a more serious way, finding a less constrictive environment. The problem for many is that they have a firm faith and a strong commitment to their faith community, so it is hard to just move on. Such is the tragedy of the right of the seminary to manage itself, versus the need for thinking people to explore.

    While I found it necessary to step out of the community in which I grew up, I understand those who find that difficult, and who then spend years or decades in conflict with a community that they love.

    One final note–these are the folks who want to “teach the controversy” in public universities and in our high schools. The real goal is to put science within confessional boundaries, a straightjacket that will certainly not fit it.

  • Reason is all over Bible Study

    In a post on Complegalitarian, Molly Alley discusses how reasonable it is to hold a doctrine that assumes that women will never mature, as in men where once boys who needed the guidance of a parent, but eventually they become mature and are considered ready for leadership. But what about women?

    Of course, as an egalitarian, I think the idea that women can’t be in leadership is nonsense, and I want to focus on that word, nonsense, and the phrase good common sense in Molly’s concluding question that I quote below, along with the related term reasonable.

    Molly says:

    In other words, why does female subjection not seem to make good common sense (to me, anyways) when so many of the other commands do?

    Now there’s a lively discussion of Molly’s actual point on that blog, and it’s one I’m not going to get into. What I’m going to discuss here takes off at a sharp angle from the topic, but it may explain why I find it next to impossible to get into these debates.

    For many people that I encounter the idea that one uses reason or what is reasonable as part of one’s interpretation of scripture is somewhere between irritating and blasphemous, and it’s weighted toward blasphemous. Obviously God is wiser than we are, and he could ask us to do things that don’t seem reasonable to us, but that are reasonable from his perspective. Of course the question remains (and I discuss it in my book When People Speak for God), of just one decides whether one is doing something that is really stupid, or whether one is using divine wisdom.

    The fact is that we all use reason when we read, interpret, and apply the scriptures. There’s no way out. Our reason is what we use to process information. We can hope it’s reason guided by the Holy Spirit, but that doesn’t make it any less a matter of reason. So the question is not whether reason will be involved. The question is just how well one’s reason will function when it is involved.

    Let’s consider Molly’s question. There are several perspectives from which I can ask the question whether a command, such as the command not to let women speak in church, is reasonable.

    1. I can look from my own perspective. Does this look reasonable in my context? If I am as objective about this as possible, I will look at the potential harm and benefit to see whether a specific command works where I live. A good question is this: Does the command have the effect in my environment that it would have had when it was first given? The only reason I use the original context here is that it is helpful to have some anchor point when discussing the impact of a particular policy. This is largely a question of application and applicability.
    2. You can ask about the perspective of the original author. Does this command look reasonable as you interpret it in the world of that author? Does it appear reasonable that the command would have the effect that is clearly intended? What is that effect? (You can then check that effect with point #1.)
    3. What about God’s perspective? Since none of us have even a prayer of a God’s eye view, what I mean here is to ask just how universally the command could reasonably be expected to be in application. Does it look like the sort of thing that should be universal? As an example, “you shall not commit murder” is uttered and presented in a way that looks like it is intended universally. “Hide yourself by the Wadi Cherith” looks like it’s intended very specifically. But there will likely be a whole range of commands and statements between that will not be nearly so obvious.
    4. Does the command make sense theologically? Most of us have theological baggage. Some consider it an ideal to jettison all of that and come at the text anew. For exegesis, I think that can be helpful, but when it comes down to application, it has to fit into a system. Many of the Biblical commands that we no longer follow are regarded as inapplicable because of our existing theology. For example, the command to bring an animal to the tabernacle and sacrifice it instantly registers as “no applicable to me” because my theology says that one has passed away.
    5. Is there another reasonable way to understand the text? Many people struggle with texts believing they have to accept a certain interpretation when the solution might lie in rechecking the exegesis and application.

    Reason is not merely useful, it’s essential in applying the Bible to our lives. Molly has asked a good question. Even when we do something that appears weird because we believe God has commanded it, some combination of revelation, reason, and experience has brought us to the conclusion that, despite popular opinion, our course of action is reasonable. Thus I think Molly’s question is a good one, and could be applied to many aspects of this situation.

    As a sort of postscript, let me note that I do not find a modern application of the various texts that indicate that women shouldn’t preach or enjoy leadership roles to be reasonable at all. There are a number of reasons for this, certainly including the evidence that women carried out those roles in the earliest stages of the church. One of the best indications that a command is not universal is that you find exceptions in the very literature in which the command is contained.

    Thus I tire of detailed exegetical arguments about these texts on both sides, even though I understand my more conservative brothers and sisters feel the need to go that way. Paul speaks pastorally to his situation. It should be no shock that he doesn’t overturn every aspect of the culture–he’s overturning enough already. But my situation in the modern world is so much different, that I find it extremely unreasonable to try to apply Paul’s pastoral advice in unadjusted form to the modern church. Thus when Paul says “husband of one wife” in my application I think “monogamous.” When Paul argues based on Adam being created first, I think, “I bet that made sense to Paul and that audience and got them on board, but it doesn’t make any sense to me.

    But then I guess I’m a dangerous liberal (per my accusers) or passionate moderate (by my own confession) and I’m just intent on ignoring the Bible. Well, no, not actually. I think the Bible is a gold mine of principles, and more importantly it guides me in hearing God speak to my situation today. I’m glad that God continues to speak, and today he does so both through women and men.

  • Some Dialogue on Inerrancy

    . . . via if i were a bell, i’d ring. Check it out and the links.

  • Origen and Bible Censorship Poll Results

    You can see the poll results here if you haven’t done so already. I’m going to replace the poll with a new one. I posted this poll after reading Origen’s comment that immature Christians should not be permitted to read certain passages of scripture, especially the Song of Songs (or Song of Solomon).

    I found this poll interesting, because as I expected there were few people who wanted to try to control church members’ Bible reading. I was wondering if there might be a few out there, but there were none. The only restriction that received any votes was that children shouldn’t be allowed to read sexually explicit passages (1 vote out of 20). The remainder were simply different ways of saying people should be allowed to read whatever they want.

    Thanks to all who responded.

  • Perfective of Confidence or Prophetic Perfect

    One of the lectionary passages for this week is Isaiah 9:1-4. Those who don’t know Hebrew may miss out on an interest fact about this passage. It is one of the best examples of what is called the “prophetic perfect” or the “perfectum propheticum” for those who really like Latin titles. I got used to them in the years I used Gesenius-Kautzsch as my primary reference grammar.

    Bruce Waltke (An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax, 30.5.1e/p. 490) does discuss this briefly and uses Isaiah 8-9 as an example. In fact, he points out the nice transition in Isaiah 8:23 in which both “humbled” and “honored” are in the perfect tense, and yet the first refers to the past and the second to the future. The passage continues with a series of perfect verbs talking about the future. I prefer to quote Gesenius, however:

    The prophet so transports himself in imagination into the future that he describes the future event as if it had been already seen or heard by him . . .

    The he cites our passage amongst others.

    What was interesting was that I noticed this passage the same day I was reading about hope in commentary on Hebrews. There St. John Chrysostom comments that “through hope we are already in heaven.”

    Does our Christian imagination, or our Christian hope suffice to make it seem that we are already in heaven? Wouldn’t it be nice if we could get that sense of already being there in God’s promises?

  • RUSETAI in 2 Corinthians 1:10

    This is not a seriously doubtful textual issue, but I wanted to make a brief summary and comment on it, because it can help illustrate the interaction between internal and external evidence in a case where the two point in the same direction. For a very brief outline of textual criticism, see Textual Criticism-Briefly. In addition, this is discussed briefly in the Anchor Bible commentary on 2 Corinthians I’m currently reading, so I’m doing something to fulfill my promise to blog my reading.

    The text, very literally translated, reads thus:

    He who from such a death [peril of death] saved us (aorist of ruomai), and will save (future of ruomai), [that is] the one on whom we have hoped, will also yet save (future of ruomai) us.

    Now let me present the ESV, which is very literal, but a bit more readable:

    He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.

    You can probably see a number of translation issues, such as where in the translation does “on him we have set our hope” belong. It can equally be translated with the final “rusetai” as with the second one. These three repetitions of the same word have created a bit of a textual jumble, but in this case we have good external attestation for a single reading, and the internal evidence backs it up.

    One key textual rule is that the more difficult text, if one can make any sense of it, is to be preferred. Why is this? Well, scribes tended to correct in order to clarify. On the other hand, the rule is not absolute, because scribes would make errors that created nonsense. So everything has to be used with care.

    Furnish (AB) simply comments that “[t]he text translated has the best attestation, however (P46 [aleph] B C et al.), and the variants doubtless originated as attempts to deal with the fact that the kai rysetai appears twice, . . .” (pp. 114-115)

    Metzger makes a similar note, but points out further that a number of slightly later manuscripts (A D* [psi] itd,61 syrp ethpp) simply omit it, and some even later ones correct the second instance of ruomai to the present tense.

    I’m not going to try to cite all this external evidence in detail. The external evidence seems pretty convincing to me, even though Metzger’s textual commentary only rates the reading a C. (I’m working from the companion to the 3rd edition, not the current one to which I linked.) The internal evidence is strong, however. The later readings are simply explained by the earlier.

    1. There is no reason why a scribe who encountered the verse with only two repetitions would add another.
    2. There is no reason to alter the second instance to present, unless one is making a sequence of aorist, present, future.
    3. There is every reason to make either alteration if one is presented with all three together, including two repetitions of the future.

    Thus the internal evidence seems compelling to me combined with the good external evidence.

  • Genesis 10: The Table of Nations

    Genesis 10 is one of those chapters that Bible students often try to avoid, because it is filled with names that are difficult to pronounce, and it’s hard for our modern ears to hear it as anything other than an interruption. But to the redactor of Genesis, these genealogies were serious business.

    Genesis 5 provides a key genealogy, and its major purpose is to show the preservation and continuity of the patriarchal line. We will see another genealogy much like it in Genesis 11. But Genesis 10 provides genealogies that deal with a number of people and nations.

    The key point here, I would suggest, is to show Israel as part of the world, related to those with whom she would interact over the centuries. As suggested in the Interpreter’s Bible (Exegesis on Genesis 10:1-32), this may be the beginning of Israelite universalism. God (YHWH) is not just interested in Israel, he is interested in the whole world. All the world’s peoples are in one family, however distant they may be. This idea is fairly weak in Genesis, but it will get stronger, especially in 2nd and 3rd Isaiah (40-55; 56-66).

    The Bible Knowledge Commentary comments:

    The table of nations is a “horizontal” genealogy rather than a “vertical” one (those in chaps. 5 and 11 are vertical). Its purpose is not primarily to trace ancestry; instead it shows political, geographical, and ethnic affiliations among tribes for various reasons, most notable being holy war. Tribes shown to be “kin” would be in league together. Thus this table aligns the predominant tribes in and around the land promised to Israel. These names include founders of tribes, clans, cities, and territories.1

    Other commentators generally agree on the purpose of the list, but vary in their view of the historicity.2

    There is a final question of historicity. I think this is really the wrong question to ask here. The story thus far tells us of the population of the earth. If the flood is to be regarded as a large, but nonetheless local event, then the issue is one of the groups of people most closely related to Israel. I believe there is good reason to expect that these lists arose from traditions, and not from some kind of direct revelation, and thus should be seen to paint a general picture and not to provide historical details.

    In particular, the interchange of personal names with the names of people groups is a key. The interest is less with the historical descent of the people involved than it is with the way the land is divided and their relationship to one another, and particular to the chosen people.

    Chapter 10, combined with chapter 11, forms a bridge between the history of the world in general that runs from Genesis 1-11 and the very specific history of Israel that begins in chapter 12 with the call of Abraham.

    I have only a small number of notes on this chapter. If you are looking for details on the various names, you will need a Bible dictionary, and even there facts will be a little bit scarce. I based the following working translation on the ASV simply to save myself the trouble of getting the transliteration of all the names in standard form. None of the transliterations are mine.

    Finally, this is an excellent example of Biblical criticism, particularly source and redaction criticism, in action, though one shouldn’t assume that there is sufficient information in this one chapter to build a character of the sources. Nonetheless there is a critical pattern in the language used that helps identify the sources, in this case J (Yahwist) and P (Priestly). I will use blue text for P, and black text for J. In addition, I will underline the key introductory phrases that separate the sources.2

    It is very likely that each source contained overlapping material, but the redactor combined all of this information into a single picture suitable for his purpose–displaying Israel as God’s servant in the broader world.

    The translation and notes will be below the fold.

    (more…)