Threads from Henry's Web

Category: Biblical Criticism

Discussion of the historical-critical method and its various methodologies and their application to Bible study and formation of doctrine.

  • Isaiah 24-27 – Overview

    Many of the issues of Biblical criticism are illustrated in these four chapters from the book of Isaiah. The book of Isaiah as a whole is fertile ground for such study, but one has to take a reasonable sized bite for an illustration. What I want to do with these chapters is discuss how various critical tools apply, or do not apply, to the text, and what can be learned from applying those tools. I will focus my attention on tools that are available to those who do not read Hebrew, looking for ways in which they can evaluate various critical claims for themselves using easily available materials.

    To accomplish this I’m going to post on the following. (I may break some of these items into multiple entries or combine them where one element is very short.)

    1. The text, applying textual criticism to get an idea of the state of the text.
    2. Literary criticism, probably combined with elements of genre criticism. Are these four chapters a unit that can be studied independently as a whole? What type of literature are they?
    3. Form criticism, a look at the individual units, if any, in the text.
    4. Source and Redaction criticism, how we got to the state of the text.
    5. Tradition criticism, summarizing 3 & 4.
    6. Genre and canonical criticism, taking us back to #2 and tying this back together.

    If you want to follow the procedures, you can start by reviewing the book of Isaiah as a whole, and then by reading these four chapters several times–at least enough times so that you have a mental picture of the passage as a whole. As you do this, you can look for your own answer to the question of whether this is itself a literary unit as part of the book of Isaiah, whether I have drawn the boundaries of the unit I’m going to study correctly. At the same time, you can prepare for the state of canonical criticism, which will ask how this fits into the overall message of Isaiah as that message fits into the message of canonical scripture.

    The book of Isaiah contains 66 chapters. Conservative Christians generally believe that it was written by one prophet, Isaiah, who lived in Judah starting late in the reign of Uzziah and possibly continuing his ministry into the reign of Manasseh, Hezekiah’s son and successor. Critical scholarship, however, has generally divided the book into at least two parts, chapter 1-39 as First Isaiah and 40-66 as Second Isaiah. Chapters 36-39, no matter what the scheme, are a historical interlude telling the story of Sennacherib’s invasion of Judah and his eventual defeat. The vast majority divide that further into 40-55 as Second Isaiah and 56-66 as Third Isaiah.

    General readers often get the idea that the critical view of Isaiah is that simple (or quite possibly complain of its complexity) without realizing that the critical view of the book is many times more complicated than that. Form critics will look for a life setting and date of composition for individual prophetic oracles or other literary elements in the text. Source critics may provide a variety of dates for individual sources, and so you can have material from any date in the general period of the Isaiah tradition. To get an idea of the dates and their spread, see Isaiah Timeline. This gives the broad outlines of this scheme of dating.

    Individual portions of the text, may have been spoken, written, or added to the collection at any time, however. Let’s look at an example from outside our narrow range of chapters. In Isaiah 14, we find three separate sections that are clearly defined: 14:1-13, 24-27, and 28-32. The first is against Babylon, and appears to assume a situation with Judah in exile. Some would suggest, however, that the dirge (3-21) could have been written at any time, and then the prose introduction (1-2) and conclusion (22-23), which are the only parts that mention Babylon by name, are added by a redactor in the exile. That redactor could be second Isaiah (the author of chapters 40-55), or even someone after that time. Trying to answer such questions wouldl involve form and redaction criticism. Verses 24-27, however are addressed to Assyria. By the time of the Babylonian exile, Assyria was long gone as the primary foe of Judah, but in the time of First Isaiah, Assyria was the primary enemy. The third oracle is against the Philistines, and it would be much harder to date. My point here is that this chapter is one of the simpler ones in which to discuss dating. If one accepts the composite authorship of Isaiah at all, one will find plenty of complexity and a considerable number of cases in which one admits one doesn’t know.

    Let’s turn our thoughts back to chapters 24-27. If they are a unit, then when was that unit written? First, we will have to ask whether there are elements of this unit that were written separately and then combined, or whether the passage was written as a unified whole. As I noted above, Isaiah 14 is relatively simple to deal with, with specific enemies addressed, and clear beginnings and ends for the three sections of the chapters. But the absence of that sort of clarity in 24-27 has not prevented commentators from presenting a number of divisions. As a Bible student, don’t simply take a scholar’s word for the divisions. Each and every one of these items is controversial; test it all, accept what convinces you. We’ll look at the possible divisions when we discuss form criticism.

    But is there anything that can be said about date? One of the easily available tools I will follow through this study is the Oxford Study Bible (REB). This Bible provides some pretty good notes and introductory articles on many topics. In its note on chapter 24 it says, “The literary style with the tendency thoward apocalyptic (24:21-23) and the theological perspective of final judgment (v. 21) indicate that this collection originated long after Isaiah of Jerusalem (see Introduction)” (page 727). Here’s where you need to put on your own critical glasses and think seriously about the claim made.

    There are some assumptions here:

    1. Apocalyptic developed in a generally linear fashion so that one can place a particular example of it on a continuum.
    2. Apocalyptic started late
    3. This passage is an example of apocalyptic literature
    4. Final judgment is a late element in Hebrew literature

    One critical piece of this puzzle would be the dating of Daniel. I’ve called attention to a number of commentaries in recent blog entries, and one should note that such scholars as Gleason Archer and Joyce Baldwin maintain that Daniel was written in the 6th century BCE, while Ernest Lucas allows such dating. Hartman & Di Lella along with Porteous solidly supported a late dating (2nd century BCE) for Daniel. If one assumes some sort of linear development for apocalyptic, then Daniel is probably somewhere toward the early middle part of that process. It’s not quite up to the book of Revelation, but it’s more apocalyptic than some chapters in Ezekiel and perhaps more similar to Zechariah. Those four centuries of difference in the dating of Daniel could make a substantial difference in how one dates these chapters. In addition, there are those who regard Daniel as a composite itself, with some elements being quite early (5th-4th century BCE) and some later. Some strongly apocalyptic elements (Daniel 7, for example) are considered by these scholars as quite early.

    Whether apocalyptic was a linear development or not is hard to say, partially because we are not so sure just what apocalyptic was, and as is the case here, we aren’t too sure when to date it. If you are interested in testing this element of dating, try reading Ezekiel 37-39 and the book of Zechariah and comparing them to these four chapters. Some elements of apocalyptic generally include symbolic visions, emphasis on eschatology, judgment, and angelic guides or interpreters. If there was a progression, where do you think these chapters would fall? You can hold that thought as we study them and see if you change your mind.

    My next entry will be a survey of the text of these four chapters as we see them in English translations. I will discuss textual issues uses some original language resources, but I will focus on what you can learn from the text and footnotes of a few English Bible versions.

  • Gleason Archer on Daniel

    I’ve just run through another commentary on Daniel, in this case the Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Volume 7, section on Daniel, by Gleason Archer. (See my notes on this commentary.)

    You can review my more detailed view in those notes, but I would simply state that this is one of two carefully conservative, scholarly commentaries on Daniel that I have read. Those who would like to preach from the book will find it particular useful. Let me list these major commentaries on Daniel in order, from most conservative to most critical.

    1. Daniel, by Desmond Ford.
      This is no longer in print, but it is available from some libraries, and occasionally used. Desmond Ford was a Seventh-day Adventist scholar and he did quite a good job of summarizing the evidence from a conservative perspective. His key to interpretation is the apotelesmatic principle, suggesting multiple fulfillments for predictions.
    2. Daniel and the Minor Prophets (Expositor’s Bible Commentary), by Gleason Archer.
      This is a solidly evangelical commentary. There is no give on historical or prophetic/predictive issues.
    3. Daniel (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries), by Joyce Baldwin. Conservative but with a lighter touch.
    4. Daniel (Apollos Old Testament Commetnary), by Ernest Lucas
      Allows either a 6th or 2nd century date, while affirming a high view of scripture.
    5. Daniel (Anchor Bible), by Hartman and Di Lella
      Affirms a 2nd century date while also affirming inerrancy.
    6. Daniel (Old Testament Library), by Norman Porteous
      A good example of a fully critical commentary, though it is a bit short for my taste.

    I may spend some time on literary criticism of Daniel after I present a series of entries on Isaiah 24-27 as an example of critical methologies.

  • Ernest Lucas on Daniel

    In an earlier post, Dating the Book of Daniel, I mentioned that I had ordered Ernest Lucas’s volume on Daniel in the Apollos Old Testament Commentary series. I now have received, read, and returned that volume, and I thought I would post a few notes.

    I have to admit that I continue to be puzzled at the number of conservative scholars who either embrace or allow a late (2nd century BCE) dating of the book of Daniel. Lucas covers this issue in some detail throughout the book. He does not make a specific statement on Biblical inerrancy, though I would be surprised to hear that he does not accept it, but he nonetheless believes that one can see certain portions of the book as history presented as prophecy.

    He takes an unusual approach in that he does not argue the dating and authorship of the book in the introduction, but rather presents basic lines of evidence throughout the commentary, and then summarizes them in an epilogue. His view is that a conservative scholar with a high view of inspiration can hold either of the major views on dating, a sixth century or a second century composition. He does argue rather forcefully for the unity of the book, which would exclude various composite theories of authorship, including a late author writing in Hebrew building on either an Aramaic document, or a collection stories written in Aramaic.

    In the prophetic interpretation portions of the commentary, Lucas sees all of the major prophetic sections ending at the time of Antiochus Epiphanes. Thus the little horns of chapters 7 & 8 both refer to Antiochus. This interpretation is not unusual in critical commentaries, though it hasn’t been a common conservative view until recently. Even more unusual for a conservative Christian commentary is that he also interprets chapter 9 as ending with Antiochus, rather than using it as a Messianic prophecy. I must be clear here–he does not rule out the application to Jesus that is common in Christian interpretation, but he does believe that interpretation is less probable. The key reason for this is his interpretation of the “word to restore and rebuild Jerusalem” (Daniel 9:25) which he believes most probably refers not to any decree, but to one of Jeremiah’s prophecies of the time. The chronology
    does not work for the ministry of Jesus in this case. Of course, it also doesn’t work for Antiochus Epiphanes, but Lucas calls the time frame symbolic rather than precise. I think he’s quite possibly right on the time period not being intended as precise, but again I am not used to seeing that position in an ostensibly conservative commentary.

    In Daniel 10-12, the final section, which the vast majority of the commentators agree refers to the history leading up to, and the reign of Antiochus, Lucas offers the option of viewing most of the material as history written as prophecy, and then tries to avoid the obvious conclusion, assuming that is the case, that 11:40-45 are an inaccurate prophecy. He suggests that this section is a loosely worded way of saying that Antiochus would come to an end. I’m afraid here that I have to say that I would prefer that a commentator either admit that the text is wrong, or that the prophecy must have some other application. If this does apply to the death of Antiochus, it goes well beyond any normal concept of “general.”

    Despite any tension that may result from the author’s view on dating, which is unlikely to satisfy either a liberal or a conservative audience, this is truly a well-written and well-researched commentary. There are two features of this commentary that I especially appreciated.

    Lucas applies some excellent literary-critical methodology to the stories, and to some extent to the prophecies, discussing the plot and characterization. Daniel is particular susceptible to the literary-critical approach, which can produce some substantial insights from the stories. Too often the main questions asked in studying Daniel are whether it is historical, whether the prophecies are really predictive, and what they mean. There is substantial value in the stories if one will take the time to think about them seriously, and Lucas does that.

    Second, Lucas interacts with commetators who range from the very conservative to the very liberal/critical. He doesn’t ignore the various arguments and concerns, nor does he usually dismiss them without discussing the evidence. He does occasionally dismiss some complex theory of authorship quite abruptly, but normally he does so with particularly convoluted and low probability theories.

    I strongly recommend this commentary to any student of Daniel. Whether your view is conservative or liberal you will find material that challenges your view, and will help you to think through the material more thoroughly. Lucas provides his supporting methodology throughout. In particular, I would recommend this commentary to those interested in pursuing genre and or literary criticism in the book of Daniel.

  • Literary Criticism

    To conclude the content part of my series on Biblical criticism, I want to discuss literary criticism. Much of the practice of literary criticism is similar to genre and to a lesser extent canonical criticism.

    Essentially, literary criticism involves forgetting about the historical and theological aspects and simply reading the Bible as literature. One can even read portions as different types of literature. For those who are primarily concerned with extracting propositional truth from the Bible, this may not seem like a very useful activity, but as with any literary study, it can be a very powerful and useful experience for the student.

    This process does not require you to decide that the Bible is untrue, or that it does not contain theological or historical information. It merely means that you look at it in a different way. In many cases this will help you see more clearly the historical message, even though this is the goal.

    Consider Samuel and Kings, for example. These four books tell the story of Israel from the end of the time of the judges through the Babylonian exile, a time period of around 500 years. One approach, and indeed the most common approach, is to study the text and its sources in order to find the maximum amount of historical information possible. Alternatively we ask the question of what theological lessons the author is trying to portray through these events? But the literary critic would ask questions about the overall plot and various subplots, and look at the characterization of the various kings. Why does the author emphasize the kings that he does? What is the literary purpose of the Elijah and Elisha story cycles? Who are the characters and what can we discover about them?

    In the Psalms, this approach can be especially effective. Here again the actual genre of the text is more important. In Samuel-Kings we disregard the actual genre, a sort of historiography, and look at it in terms appropriate to a work of fiction. In Psalms, we are looking at poetry, and can study each Psalm as poetry while looking for the genre (more in the sense in which that term is used in form criticism). Here the questions are form and structure and the simple art of the poetry. (See my paper on Psalm 104.)

    Literary criticism is a large topic, and would require much more than a blog entry, so I’m going to err on the side of brevity–a very uncommon error for me!–and stop with these few very general remarks.

    I will be following this with a series of posts applying critical methods to Isaiah 24-27. I think this is a very interesting passage to use as a test case, and I expect to post several entries on it. Because these are demonstration passages for the critical methodologies I have been discussing here, I will post these on this blog rather than my new Participatory Bible Study Blog, where I’m currently discussing the New Testament book of Hebrews.

  • Another Note on Deuteronomy 32:43

    In my previous post on this passage I stated that I was ignoring one textual issue that was really quite minor, but on thinking about it, it seems to me that it will illustrate one of the points that makes textual criticism of the Hebrew Bible different.

    We have relatively few Hebrew manuscripts, and most of those are quite late. The Dead Sea Scrolls provide us with fragmentary evidence that is much earlier and in Hebrew, but much of the evidence available is found in translations, Greek, Syriac, and Latin primarily, just because of languages that are most commonly known, but also Coptic, Georgian, Armenian, and so forth.

    Hebrew was written with only consonants in early times. Indications of the vowels came in two stages, first with vowel letters, and then with a system of pointings (actually more than one, but one became overwhelmingly dominant), dots, lines, and marks that indicated the vowels. Since these vowels were added long after the texts were originally written, based on an oral tradition of pronunciation, most scholars of the Hebrew Bible regard the consonantal text as more established than the pointing.

    In Deuteronomy 32:43 we have a case in which a textual variant involves only the pointing. There are two possible readings involved, and again I’m going to summarize the translations that use each option based solely on the Hebrew text they can be presumed to translate.

    • with him – CEV, ESV, REB, NLT, NRSV
      This is an alternate reading of the Hebrew consonantal text.
    • his people – JPS, HCSB, TEV
      This is the reading of the MT as pointed.
    • with his people – MSG, NASB, NCV, NKJV, NIV
      This reading is supported by some Hebrew mss, and would presumably result from haplography (writing something once when it occurs more than once), because in Hebrew with people-his, would have the same two letter combination twice at the start. Against this reading is the fact that it is both not the dominant reading in the evidence, it might have been created by dittography, and it tends to make the reading more comprehensible. In other words, nobody would want to correct this reading to any of the alternatives, but someone might well want to correct one of the alternatives to this one. Note that 4QDt32 does not have the additional two letters assumed by this reading.

    Just to illustrate, let me display the Hebrew text.

    Hebrew consonantal text for with him or his people, no vowel pointing This displays the Hebrew consonants that can be read either “with him” or “his people” depending on the vowels.

    Hebrew consonantal text for _with him_ with vowel pointing This displays the Hebrew consonants with vowel pointing for “with him.”

    Hebrew consonantal text for _his people_ with vowel pointing This displays the Hebrew consonants with vowel pointing for “his people.”

    The only difference is the straight line under the first (rightmost) consonant. The pronunciation changes from something similar to an English ‘i’ as in ‘bit’ to something like an English ‘a’ as in ‘bat’.

    I think a good case can be made for either of the first two options. I think the case for the third option “with his people” is much weaker.

  • Textual Issue: Deuteronomy 32:43

    Previously I listed a couple of doubtful translation choices
     in the Hebrew Bible and gave my preferences on them. Here are a couple more that I regard as much more certain. I also gave an extremely brief introduction to textual criticism in Textual Criticism – Briefly.

    Praise, oh heavens, his people*,
    Worship him, all you gods.
    For he will avenge his servants’ blood . . .

    *his people also has a variant reading with him. The change is only to the vowel pointing and is quite likely. I did not consider this variant in listing the versions supporting each reading for “oh heavens.”

    There are two textual problems in this passage, and they tend to distinguish the most recent set of translations from those that went before. The key element in both variants is that the reading accepted by these versions is supported by the LXX along with a reading from the Dead Sea Scrolls.

    In the first line the Masoretic text reads “oh nations” rather than “oh heavens.” Modern versions that show each reading include:

    • Omit – JPS, HCSB, MSG, NASB, NCV, NIV, NKJV, TEV
      In support of omitting the line, we have the MT, supported by the Syriac and also the Vulgate. It is to be expected normally that those two versions will support the MT.
    • Worship him, all you gods – NRSV, REB, CEV, ESV, NLT (angels)
      In support of including this line we again have the LXX and 4QDt32. The LXX varies from 4QDt32 by reading sons of God rather than gods.

    (Note that the English text cited for each variant is mine. I include any translation in support of that text that translated the Hebrew text behind that variant. Each translation may still vary in its English rendering.)

    4QDt32 is a fragment from the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS) that include this verse. The number of modern versions that have included this verse, from across the spectrum theologically, indicates the strength of the combination of any witness from the DSS with the LXX. There is still a certain conservatism, however, as indicated by those few versions that do not include the added line especially.

    In favor of including the added line is this strong testimony of the Greek LXX translation, along with a DSS fragment. In addition, it is plausible to suspect the removal of the line for theological reasons, though as the LXX shows, it is not necessary to interpret it as polytheistic. A scribe might nonetheless have intentionally dropped it.

    For more information on Bible translations see:

  • Genre and Canonical Criticism

    Continuing my discussion of Biblical criticism and the tools that make up that method, let’s look at genre and canonical criticism together. I do that, because they look generally at the same point in the production of the text as we have it, but look in different ways at that point in time.

    We have already encountered the term “genre” in discussing form criticism. Make sure to distinguish the way in which “genre” is used in “genre criticism” as opposed to the way it is used in form criticism. In the former, it is a category of short elements, normally of orally transmitted material, that takes certain forms due to that process of transmission. Here we are looking at the genre of a larger literary document.

    You may gather from that definition that we have shifted our focus away from the prehistory of the text and its development, to looking at the document as we have it now. At the same time we move from looking at smaller portions or even fragments of the text to looking at it as a whole document. Thus if we consider the book of Matthew, for example, form criticism is concerned with the individual sayings of Jesus and reports of his deeds, source criticism looks at how these were collected into documents which became sources for the author of Matthew, redaction criticism looked at how those sources were combined into the whole gospel in order to tell us what Matthew himself was trying to accomplish. Tradition criticism looked at this whole process. Genre criticism looks at the gospel of Matthew as a whole, asks what its genre “gospel” may be, what are its purposes, and how was it used by the community that saw it as a gospel. Canonical criticism looks at the whole of Matthew but looks at it as part of the canon of the bible and of the New Testament, and insofar as it is interested in a community, it would be the one that first saw this as authoritative for the church.

    Genre Criticism

    Recently I’ve been doing some study of the book of Daniel, in which genre criticism can be extremely important. Previously, I discussed the dating of Daniel, particularly from the point of view of Anthony Di Lella, author of the Anchor Bible commentary on the book. Di Lella believes that the book is pseudonymous, written in the 2nd century BCE, and also that its stories are not generally historical, but rather are edifying stories. (See Dating the Book of Daniel.) At the same time he maintains that this view does not conflict with inerrancy. How does he do that?

    The issue is simply one of genre. He believes that one of the characteristics of apocalyptic is that it is pseudonymous, and he determines on various grounds that the stories are edifying tales and not historical, but he also determines that the use of this genre was to encourage people in a particular time of persecution, looking at the community that first received the book as a whole, and the purposes for which they would use the book.

    On a much less radical note, genre criticism of the gospels asks just what type of literature the gospels are. Are they histories, and if so what type? Are they novels as some literary critics have proposed? For many, the answer is that there is a specific genre of “gospel” which is not identical to any other form of literature. Once we have determined the genre, we ask just what that genre was intended to do. It would appear that a presentation of a coherent chronological picture was not part of the plan, as the various gospels, even though they show signs that the authors were acquainted with certain of the others, do not present a consistent chronology. These are the types of questions that genre criticism is supposed to cover.

    Canonical Criticism

    Canonical criticism is concerned with where those gospels fit in that broader scheme. In studying the gospels one might ask why there are four, and just four, gospels, and just where Matthew fits into that scheme. How does this one gospel contribute to the function of the “gospel” genre (or whatever one may have determined that genre was)? Why do we have “gospels” in the canon at all?

    In the case of Daniel, there are also issues of canonical criticism. Where does this type of literature fit into the faith life of the church? Why would we value an apocalypse, whether we see its stories as historical or not? Daniel itself is placed in different positions in the Jewish canon and in the Christian canon. Is there a reason for this? Canonical criticism is not largely a matter of looking at the order of the books, of course, but rather looking at how the book functions as part of the community’s Bible as a whole. Nonetheless the fact that the Christian canon seems to put a higher value on Daniel than the Jewish canon is probably significant in the way each community sees that book.

    One can continue by asking what role Revelation plays in the New Testament canon. Many people didn’t think it should be there, and even some moderns don’t feel the right choice was made. When they say that Revelation should not be canonical, are they commenting on its usefulness in the church, its potential use, or the way in which it has been used or abused? These are questions that the canonical critic applies in study.

    Putting things Together

    Though this is not my last entry, the introduction of these two tools of Biblical criticism provides an opportunity for me to comment on the use of the tools in general. Too often Bible students who do start to use critical methods get tied up on one or two methods. These tools provide different ways of looking at the text, but in order to understand both the text itself and how it applies to the modern church or community, one needs to look at it in a variety of ways. Commentaries that focus solely on one aspect can be quite hard to use practically. A form critical commentary, for example, will look heavily at the prehistory of the text, paying much attention to hypothetical material while passing over the text as we have it. On the other hand, a canonical critic can be tempted to ignore the fact that a text does have a prehistory and act as though it dropped from heaven whole.

    The Bible student who wants to get the most from the text will use a balance of tools as they are appropriate to the particular text he is studying.

  • Tradition Criticism

    Tradition criticism is an overview method that encompasses all four of the critical tools I have discussed previously, textual, form, source, and redaction criticism. Tradition criticism differs in that it is an overview process of studying the entire history of the text, looking for ways in which the expressed tradition has changed, and the circumstances that were involved in that change. It assumes an oral stage of the text, and is again not very effective in studying something that was originated in written form without a prehistory.

    In order to put tradition criticism into action, one normally begins with textual criticism, in order to have a good text from which to start the process. In some cases, such as the oracles against the nations in the book of Jeremiah that I referenced previously in my post on form criticism, textual criticism can give us some insights into the history of the tradition as well as helping us accurately discover the final text. Form, source, and redaction criticism each deal with an aspect of the history of the text, but they tend to rather arbitrarily divide the process into discrete stages, each of which is studied by a different method. Tradition criticism tries to bring these stages together, and ask questions such as what was important to the people who told these stories, why did they tell these stories and not others, and how this reflects on their culture and their understanding of history.

    In doing so, tradition critics identify motifs, such as the successful foreign courtier in the Joseph story, the threatened ancestral figure, such Sarah barren or taken by a foreign ruler, or particular types of prophetic oracles. These often combine into themes, such as the overall protection God gives to the ancestral line.

    In understanding how the culture saw its own history, we can come to understand the final product better. For example, in modern eyes, the story of the flight into Egypt (Matthew 2:13-15) is either predicted by Hosea 11:1, or Matthew made an error. Now it is clear from context that Hosea 11:1 is not Messianic, and in no way intends to predict anything about the Messiah. But by understanding how traditions were shaped in telling and retelling, such as the exodus from Egypt and the exile to Babylon and return, we can add the option that Christians, in developing this tradition about Jesus, were tying their story into the continuing story of Israel’s experience. Notice here that tradition history is not concerned with determining historicity; it is only concerned with the way in which the story is told and passed on.

    Thus tradition criticism is one of those “forest” types of tools that looks at a broader picture. There is a danger in tradition criticism, just as with form, source, and redaction criticism, that one builds too much on too little evidence. A few conjectures are necessary in historical study, but when conjecture is built on conjecture, the final result can be improbable indeed! Tradition critics must be careful to admit they don’t know when they don’t know.

  • Redaction Criticism

    After discussing Form Criticism and Source Criticism, Redaction Criticism is really quite easy to deal with. Redaction is simply another term for editing. It is the study of how an editor works the sources he has into a final document, the document that we would commonly refer to as the autograph. Again, it is important to remember that there is no necessity to assume that the final copy of a document as we have it in scripture went through a stage of redaction. The epistles of the New Testament are good examples of documents that would require either no redaction, or would only involve minimal redaction.

    In the Parable of the Sower, elements introduced by the redactor–in this case the gospel writer–include the setting of the parable, the place where Jesus is said to have related the parable, and possibly the interpretation. It is commonly thought that Jesus did not include interpretations with his parables. I would suggest that the form of the parables gives some support to this theory. They are best suited to use in stimulating thinking, without long explanations. But in my opinion that doesn’t mean that Jesus and his disciples never discussed the meaning. Thus multiple applications of a parable could legitimately have arisen during the lifetime of Jesus. The placement of all the interpretations, and some of the interpretations themselves then would be redactional elements. It is unlikely that Jesus immediately followed parable with interpretation in his normal style of teaching.

    Another example comes from Matthew 5:3 and Luke 6:20. Luke 6 reads “Blessed are the poor . . . ” but Matthew reads “Blessed are the poor in spirit . . .” Because of the form of this saying in the Gospel of Thomas, v. 54, which also reads just “poor” it is likely that Luke’s is the more common, and possibly more original form of the saying. Thus the addition of “in spirit” by Matthew (as redactor) indicates something about his theology and his intention in writing his gospel. (Note that use of the Gospel of Thomas is controversial here, because there is some debate on its date and whether it constitutes an independent witness to the sayings of Jesus.)

    To look at an example of sources and redaction, see my essays The Two Flood Stories and Genesis Creation Stories – Form, Structure, and Relationship.

  • The Locus of Biblical Inspiration

    I was doing my morning reading a couple of days ago from the book of Hebrews. One of the verses that caught my eye this time was Hebrews 2:6-9, and particularly verse 7, quoted from Psalm 8:5 (all verse numbers from the English Bible, Psalm 8:5 is 8:6 in Hebrew). Now this quotation is an excellent example of a couple of translation problems, and though that is not my purpose here, I need to outline them in support of my major point.

    First, there is the issue of translation in Psalm 8:5. Translations split between reading “a little lower than the angels/heavenly beings” or “a little lower than God/the gods/a god.” It’s interesting that mainstream to liberal translations such as the NRSV and REB find themselves in at least partial agreement with the very conservative NASB on this issue. (The NASB’s “than God” is a little less jarring to Christian ears than the REB’s “little less than a god,” perhaps, but both tend in the same direction.)

    In Hebrews, you will find the quotation consistently translated as “lower than the angels” or something quite close to that. The reason for the consistency in Hebrews is quite simple. The quotation is from the LXX (Septuagint), which translated this passage as “angels.”

    The other translation issue of note is whether to translate the Greek “brachu” as “for a little while” or “a little.” The Greek word could possibly handle either interpretation, but the context and grammar tends to suggest “a little while.” Some translations, such as the NIV, try to accommodate the two translations, using “a little lower” in Hebrews 2:7, and keeping the translation as consistent as possible with Psalm 8:5, but adding a footnote to the alternate translation. Others, such as the NASB and the NRSV again simply translate the text of Hebrews without concern for consistency with Psalm 8:5.

    Note here that I’m justing making note of these translation choices, not criticizing any of them. With very little work I could justify the actions of each translation team, and considering that alternatives are indicated in footnotes in many cases, I have no problem. What I do what you to see is that there are a couple of differences between the LXX text as quoted by the author of Hebrews, and the Hebrew text as we have in our Old Testaments. And that’s why this particular verse caught my eye this time through.

    I’ve been writing about Biblical criticism in a number of recent posts. (This isn’t part of that series, but it does relate.) One of the things that got me thinking when I first started looking at the tools of Biblical criticism, especially form and source criticism, was that an author would grab hold of his favorite tool and apply it to every scripture in sight willy-nilly, and with interesting results. Many times the main objections to the use of a critical tool could be eliminated by carefully defining the tool itself and the types of texts on which it could be effective, and then carefully applying that tool only in those places.

    But there was a further problem. Even in the case of texts in which a particular tool applied, many students would use just the one tool and then be done with it. For example, in studying Isaiah, one might use form criticism to define the boundaries and structure of a prophetic oracle, then define it down to a subcategory of oracle, place it in the appropriate setting, and come up with a plausible (hopefully!) understanding of what Isaiah intended when presenting that oracle orally to its original audience. A person dedicated to form criticism as a method of interpretation would stop there. The study of the book of Isaiah was simply a study of a series of oracles. The book of Isaiah itself tended to disappear.

    Another example comes from Genesis 1 & 2, which have some contradictions or apparent contradictions (I don’t care which for the moment) in terms of the chronology of creation. (I mentioned these in my previous post on source criticism.) A source critic may simply respond to these problems by stating that the two chapters come from different sources, and consider the question answered. But we are left with the question of why an apparently intelligent person (and anyone who has studied the literary structure of Genesis must concede that its author is intelligent) would put the two chapters together with such obviously (to us) contradictory content. The fact that he did put the two chapters together suggests that to him they are not contradictory, and that if we understand them as contradictory, perhaps we are missing the point. That doesn’t mean that he may not have had two creation story sources or traditions in front of him as he wrote. It does mean that he understood those sources as compatible and thought that each had a necessary message.

    Many of these problems have been alleviated considerably by the use of such methods as canonical and genre criticism. A good example of the use of canonical criticism is Brevard Childs’s commentary on Isaiah (OTL). This is one I’m studying right now, and it has grown on me as I use it. Childs is really a remarkably good commentator. I would note, however, that this canonical approach to criticism has by no means won the field. Much of the work on the historical Jesus, especially that of the Jesus Seminar, is heavily based on the approach of form criticism, whether that is admitted or not. The starting point for Jesus Seminar material is in breaking the text into blocks on which the analysis is performed to determine just how authentic that saying is. As oral material–Jesus himself didn’t write it down–the sayings of Jesus are well suited to study through form criticism. My topic here, however, is whether such study is all we need to do here. Compare The Five Gospels with Darrell Bock’s Jesus According to Scripture to see both methods in action clearly.

    But back to Hebrews 2:6-9. I think it is clear that the author of Hebrews is getting a somewhat different point from Psalm 8 than was actually intended. Psalm 8 celebrates God, and the position of humanity in God’s creation. Hebrews 2 uses that passage either as a prophecy or a type of Jesus, who is made lower than the angels for his earthly ministry, and then crowned with glory and honor afterward. My modern mind can get a little twisted with that. After all, the author is not doing exegesis, at least not such as would get an ‘A’ grade in seminary. He’s using the wording of the text in a slightly different way than it was intended. What’s more, assuming that since he seems to translate loosely himself in some places, and may well have had the Hebrew text available to him, he is cherry picking his translation to suit his message! What gives?

    In my view, what gives is that he was inspired. We are heavily trained both by a modern worldview to look for the source, for the original meaning, for the oldest form. (However much we talk about postmodern, most of the public still has more “modern,” I believe.) Because of this bias we are quite susceptible to the claims of certain critical methods. Form and source criticism will get us closer to the original. Who wouldn’t want that? The methods are challenged primarily on the basis of results–they didn’t get us to where we thought they would–but not on the goal itself.

    Where did God act?

    I think that’s the wrong question. Perhaps we should more be asking “Where didn’t God act?”

    I’m confident that Isaiah made prophetic utterances orally. I’m confident that they were later written down and collected, and that they were finally shaped into the book as we have it today. As authority in the church, we accept the book of Isaiah, because that is canonical, i.e. that is what we have officially made authoritative. But from the historical point of view, and also based on my interest in knowing how God has worked with people throughout history, I’m interested in the whole process, because that tells me something about God.

    I don’t mind the search for the historical Jesus. I’m interested in precisely what Jesus said. But from the practical point of view isn’t it somewhat odd to try to filter out the voices of the first century Christians who wrote down and collected what Jesus said, and those who shaped the result into gospels, in favor of filtering purely through my own mind? While I do want to know precisely what Jesus said (though I’ll have to wait until the kingdom to actually know), I suspect the filter of the early Christians is actually more reliable than my own. It’s interesting to hear people claim that the early Christians quickly corrupted the teachings of Jesus and at the same time assume that they can extract the true story.

    I think it’s perfectly valid for the author of Psalm 8 to make one point, and the author of Hebrews to use his words to make another. In fact, I think those points are typologically related. Where did God speak? Well, he spoke in Genesis, which was probably in the mind of the Psalmist as he wrote. He spoke in Psalms 8, which is a wonderfully encouraging passage. He spoke again through both the words and deeds of Jesus, especially his death, resurrection, and exaltation at the side of the Father. He spoke again through the author of Hebrews who points us to the change of status that Jesus accepted, and who provides an interpretation of those actions for us.

    I believe God speaks in all these things, and that we can get valuable insights from the whole experience of God’s action in the world. Hebrews 2:6-9 gives us a snapshot of inspiration in action.

    (I ran across this text again because I’m preparing to teach a series on the book of Hebrews from my study guide, To The Hebrews: A Participatory Study Guide. One of the 13 lessons in that volume invites students to look at the use of Old Testament passages in the book of Hebrews.)