Saturday, March 10, 2007

"The" Old Testament God?

Charles Halton over at Awilum has a very provocative post on the nature of "the Old Testament God" in which he contrasts a quote by Richard Dawkins that speaks to a violent god with Exod 34:6–7, which speaks to a merciful one. Charles has simply juxtaposed the quotes, leaving us to draw our own conclusions. I'd like to add a voice to the discussion (not my own):
When the Lord your God brings you into the land that you are about to enter and occupy, and he clears away many nations before you... when the Lord your God gives them over to you and you defeat them, then you must utterly destroy them. Make no covenant with them and show them no mercy. ...You shall devour all the peoples that the Lord your God is giving over to you, showing them no pity... (etc.)

- Deut 7
My intent is not to defend Dawkins (indeed, I wouldn't frame the discussion as a debate in which to take sides), just to point out that he's not exactly pulling his picture of "the Old Testament God" out of his sleeve. Dawkins has chosen which texts to emphasize. So has Charles. And so do most of us, I would guess.

I think the issue Charles has raised by juxtaposing those two quotes is critically important, but decidedly more complicated than his juxtaposition suggests. On what basis do we assign priority to one view of God over the other? My sense is that it's not enough just to choose one over the other, to highlight the beautiful picture of God (or the moral picture, or the compassionate picture, or the one that resonates most with Jesus' teachings, or whatever reason one might have for choosing it) and relegate the ugly one that we'd rather not deal with to the back corner of the canonical closet. Perhaps a more fundamental question is this: Why do we get such conflicting views of God in the Bible in the first place? This question, I think, comes down to what the nature of biblical literature is: how it was written, by whom, and why. How we answer these questions may tell us something about the nature of the depictions of God we find there.

Well, I'm sure I've ruffled some feathers with this post. In fact, I hope I have. Feel free to shed some down in my comments section. I'd love to hear what you're thinking. But right now I'm going back to reading The Edited Bible. (Yes, there's something funny in that.)

43 comments:

charleshalton said...

No feathers ruffled here. I did not mean to imply a simplistic contrast with Dawkins, I merely wanted to jump start the conversation and in fact imply that these issues are quite complex and variegated.

I can save you some time with the Edited Bible. Just read the intro and the conclusion. Everything in between is 300 pages of the same stuff repeated over and over and over--sometimes the same sentences are cut and pasted. I think this book should have had more attentive editing.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Well, jump start the conversation you did... Anyone else? These issues have been paramount in a book group I've attended recently. I think a key hurdle (for me as well as others in the group) is how to frame them. Not easy.

What did you think of Van Seters' conclusions?

charleshalton said...

To a large degree I am in agreement with what he has to say. I think viewing the writers of the Bible in terms of authors and setting them in the frame of historiography is much better than that of "editors" and the like.

I have some reservations that I haven't quite worked through yet because I think I might see some editorial activity that is similar in many ways to certain modern editorial functions occurring in cuneiform documents and therefore the function of an editor might not be totally anachronistic.

What do you think?

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

I am in general agreement as well. I think the value of the book, at minimum, is its call to think more carefully about models of composition. Composition is not a theoretical activity. People write texts in response to certain things in their world, in order to communicate a message (or messages) to somebody. And they work within conventions of a variety of kinds as they did so. Editing practices is one of them. I think this was as true in antiquity as it is today. So Van Seters has given us something very valuable, I think.

I don't study Second Temple period literature, so I would love to know what those who are equipped to evaluate his characterization of practices at Alexandria and among the sopherim think.

I'm also suspicious of how conveniently the work fits into the "ancient historiography" thesis he's been developing in his last number of works. It's almost as though he spends 400 pages to say "See, I was right!" As valuable as it is, the whole work seemed cast, to my mind, in far too apologetic a manner. I wonder if this won't blind people to the significant contribution that's here. I hope not. I think he's on the right track, but I don't think it's nearly as simple as asserting that the Pentateuchal authors were working within the same genre as early Greek historiography. There are a number of articles that have pointed this out, and I have something to say about this in my dissertation as well.

What phenomena are you finding in cuneiform documents?

James Pate said...

I agree that the God of the Old Testament is a troublesome issue. I have problems, however, with evaluating the God of the Old Testament (or the Old Testament itself) according to certain modern standards (e.g., radical feminism, opposition to war or the death penalty, etc.), as if the modern standards themselves are infallible.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

What standard or standards do you think are less fallible for assessing this question? (That's a totally honest question...)

One thing I hoped to accomplish with my post is to get people to think about whether there is A SINGLE "Old Testament God" to which all the texts attest. And also to think about why we delimit "the Old Testament God" from any other God to which another text or corpus might attest. It's all about how one frames the question and what one thinks the nature of the text is, and I think we're generally off track with both.

Note that I'm not advocating polytheism here. My own sense is that the texts tell us what various people and groups in antiquity THOUGHT about God, and in some cases how they USED God to further their cause. It's not that the texts witness to multiple Gods, but that not all of the depictions of God truly reflect God. Just like we do in religious communities today, I think the biblical authors sometimes told profound truths about God. And, just like some people do today, other times they told heinous lies (or "convenient truths") about God that happened to serve their interests. I think Deut 7 is one of these cases.

Question is, what's the standard for distinguishing?

My personal view is that a text like Deut 7 has value in the canon because it teaches us about OURSELVES. We, just like the writers in antiquity, can easily be guilty of twisting God to our own interests. And sometimes to the great harm of others. Profound, if difficult, lesson.

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

Thanks for your response.

I have not entirely arrived at my own standard or criterion, to be honest. Personally, I believe that we should give even the troublesome passages of the Bible the benefit of a doubt, in the sense that they teach us something valuable or have some wisdom behind them. For example, I have been studying the daughters of Zelophahad in Numbers, and how ancient Near Eastern societies were more liberal in their inheritance laws for women than the scenario commanded in the Numbers chapters. I believe that those chapters in Numbers have some wisdom behind them, in the sense that they try to preserve the tribes. But I would be hesitant to demand that those laws in Numbers become policy in the United States.

For the conquest, I do not think that the God who commands that is different from the God of mercy and compassion. God wanted Israel to be a light to the nations, and they could not really be such if they were ensnared by idolatry. Moreover, according to various passages of the Hebrew Bible, the conquest was an act of divine judgment, in the sense that God punished the Canaanites for sacrificing their children and for engaging in sexual immorality. I am not saying that there is no biblical diversity, but I do think that the Hebrew Bible presents God as a God of justice and mercy. Even in the sections about the conquest, God does not come across as an irrational, arbitrary xenophobe.

I am interested in hearing your views about how the Israelites used Dt. 7. If I am correct, much of biblical scholarship today does not believe that there even was a conquest, so I wonder what the function of the biblical passages about the conquest would be.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

I would give a passage like Deut 7 the benefit of the doubt in terms of its ability to teach us something valuable. I would just cast my net wider in terms of what counts as valuable. In my mind, a window into the ugly underbelly (or at least the potential for it) of our religious communities is just as valuable as a text like the one from Exod 34 that Charles cited, which I think does tell a profound truth about God.

I don't buy the argument in Deut 7 (and other such texts) that the Canaanites would corrupt the Israelites, leading them into idolatry, any more than I would buy Hitler's argument that the Jews corrupted German society and were to blame for all their economic problems. Yes, that's a rather scathing comparison. But the same kind of dynamic is going on. Concern for social purity, the need to define and maintain an identity, perhaps combined with an irrational fear, is framed in an extreme view where the "other" is radically and violently cut off. In fact, in terms of religious practices, the Israelites were not all that "other" to the Canaanites. Perhaps just as German Jews were no less German for being Jews.

Is God depicted as arbitrary in this passage? Not really, although "Canaanites" might function here as a trope, in which case it's hard to identify the "other" beyond the very vague "those who are not us". As a xenophobe? You bet. I don't think God is really a xenophobe, nor is it my sense that the destruction of entire groups of people (whether it be Canaanites or Jews or Kurds or Armenians, or anyone else) is God's will. (Although I am always cautious about making claims about what is God's will.) But we could spend all day walking through examples of how people use God to justify such views and (sadly) the behaviors toward others that sometimes follow from them. I don't think Deut 7 is essentially any different. The difference is that it's included under the umbrella of a canon. Understanding the nature of texts like Deut 7 in this way does make one have to rethink what "canon" means and how it functions. At least it has for me.

Your question about how the text was used is a fascinating one to me. I think it's terribly difficult to answer. It could have functioned as the expression of the elite intelligentsia who probably wrote it, and could have remained entirely theoretical. How much more public play it got is impossible to say. Although given the probably quite real issue of ethnic and religious identity which lies behind it, one would think it would have gotten some.

Curious for your own thoughts on the matter...

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

It is interesting that we are discussing Deuteronomy 7, since Dr. Aaron's class on Text and Theory discussed it last Monday. My impression was that he saw the passage as a way to create an "other" for the purpose of solidifying Israelite culture and peoplehood. He did not seem to believe that the passage was about actual Canaanites, since he appears to date Deuteronomy 7 to post-exilic times.

As far as the biblical text is concerned, Canaanites are portrayed differently from what God wants Israel to be. The Canaanites worship gods whom God does not want Israel to worship. The Canaanites sacrifice children, which God does not want Israel to do. The Canaanites engage in sexual acts that God prohibits for Israel. If the Canaanites were indeed this way, then they were a genuine "other," and they would have corrupted Israel from the path that God wanted her to follow.

For me, Deuteronomy 7 is not applicable to today in the sense that Jews or Christians should practice genocide, since there are no longer any Canaanites in existence. The passage does, however, convey God's justice in that God punishes the inhabitants of the land for certain sins, and it may also illustrate the truth that people of faith should take heed about what can corruptly influence them.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

Thanks so much for weighing in! This is a great discussion, and just the kind I'd hoped to start.

I wholeheartedly agree that being cognizant of what has the potential to corrupt us is a very good thing, as none of us is immune to corruption. I'm awfully concerned, though, about reading a text like Deut 7 this way.

First of all, it provides us a solution for handling such a problem: Obliterate it. Destroy it. A very fine solution if what corrupts you is the leftover chocolate cake in the refrigerator or the pornography hidden under the bed (just a couple of examples, we could list a million). When it's other people who corrupt you, though, is the solution of obliterating them a good one? Move to another town, isolate yourself from them, maybe. But kill them all?

Second of all, the picture of the Canaanites (whether it refers to actual Canaanites or the post-exilic inhabitants of the land doesn't matter) in Deut 7 is a caricature. Furthermore, it's not impossible that some Israelites thought such religious practices to be kosher. We know, for example, that worship of Asherah was not uncommon (at least before the exile).

Of course I acknowledge your point that this is not God's vision for Israel (or at least this writer's vision for Israel). But is this a Godlike way of framing the issue and handling the problem? That's an important question that the text confronts me with, anyway. I don't find the fact that there are no more Canaanites to be terribly relevant. As we use scripture in our communities and daily lives as an inspiration and a guide, we don't treat the text in its specifics, but in the models it provides. And the model that this text provides for dealing with what one perceives as corrupt and potentially corrupting is precisely what I find troubling about this passage, topped only by the fact that it's couched as divine will.

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

There is a need for me to say more than I will say in this particular post. I will possibly do so this coming weekend, when I will have time to do some research on an important issue that you raise. The one that I have in mind is your statement that Deuteronomy 7's portrayal of the Canaanites is a caricature. Was it, and in what way? You acknowledge that the Canaanites worshipped different gods from the Israelities, so the biblical writings are correct in their portrayal on that point. I do not know the extent of child sacrifice in Canaan, but it did exist in the ancient Near East. I also wonder to what extent (if any)the Canaanites performed the sexual activities described in Leviticus 11. Last year, both you and I both went to Professor Fox's lecture on cross-dressing in the ancient Near East, and I vaguely recall that she may have touched on homosexuality in the region. I will need to look into this a little more, however, and I appreciate any insight that you can offer on these topics.

I do not want to ignore your point about Scripture presenting models, but I do want to emphasize that the conquest was a specific command for a specific time and a specific place. According to the biblical text, God commanded the Israelites to exterminate the Canaanites. I as a human being do not have the right to simply kill whomever is bothering me, but God, as creator, does have a right to execute judgment on people. In the biblical text, God chose to do so through the Israelites, meaning that the Israelites were not acting on their own initiative but were the instruments of divine judgment. Consequently, I do not believe that the conquest is a model for how human beings should act. The conquest is an example of God's judgment, which is relevant to us today, but we are commanded in our sacred texts (the Tanak for you, and the Old Testament and New Testament for me)to love our enemies and to leave vengeance to God. The conquest in the biblical text is an example of God's vengeance.

I hope I am making sense here, and I appreciate any response you can make

James Pate said...

For the above post, I mean the sexual activities discussed in Leviticus 18.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

You are making sense, so keep going...

I'm suggesting that the picture of Canaanite religion in Deut 7 is a caricature because it is chalked up to practices that the writer of this text finds offensive when in fact Israelite and Canaanite religion have quite a bit in common. On this, you might look at Mark Smith's "Early History of God" for an overview. I think you may have misread my point on Canaanite gods. I brought up Asherah, for example, to show that the Israelites and the Canaanites DID worship some of the same gods. Asherah worship was probably normative and took place in the temple, evident in the repeated commands in Deuteronomy to remove the sacred pole (i.e., her symbol). Obviously, this did not coincide with the Deuteronomist's picture of what Israelite religion ought to look like.

I admit I'm struggling a bit with your idea that God's command in Deut 7 was for a specific place and time and that, therefore, we should bracket it out. If I think God is telling me to be an instrument of his judgment by assassinating a doctor who performs abortions, that's a specific command to me at a specific time. Is that divine will? How is such an example different from what we find in Deut 7? Can I shrug off the moral implications of such an action because I was an instrument of divine will and my actions rid society of the potential for corruption? I would be interested in your thoughts on that.

Incidentally, what makes you think I'm Jewish? (I assume that was the thrust of your comment that Tanakh and not OT/NT was what I considered scripture.)

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

I thought you once told me you were Jewish and were going to a Passover seder. Maybe I mis-remember that. You mean you're not?

I'll take a look at Marc Smith's book, or at least I'll try to find a synopsis of it. I am not denying, though, that the Israelites and the Canaanites engaged in similar religious practices, since, as you know (and stated), that was why the Deuteronomist was upset.

I anticipated that you would bring up something like the abortion doctor example or Islamic Jihad, but I'll have to think some more about this. I could say that God spoke to the Israelites and not the assassin or the Islamic extremist, but then you could say...

Well, I'll see what you say. :)

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

I've been to many seders with various Jewish friends, but, no, I don't happen to be Jewish.

I think you've hit the nail on head when you say "I could say that God spoke to the Israelites and not the assassin or the Islamic extremist..." On what basis would you make that case? (That's a completely honest question, not a rhetorical one.) If there is an essential difference between the example I raised and Deut 7, perhaps understanding what it is lies in the answer to that question. I don't see a plausible case for difference. But perhaps you can show me what it is.

My sense is that a difference might be rooted in a view that Deut 7 is in a canon of scripture that various religious traditions hold to tell them the truth about God. Consequently, we have to interpret it somehow to fit that mold. I take a rather different view, primarily because biblical literature is much messier than the mold we try to fit all of it in. What's at root here may be the assumptions and knowledge we bring to the text. My decade-plus of biblical studies has shown me clearly that biblical literatures are not inherently different from any other. What's different is how we use these texts. But maybe I'm over-emphasizing the canon factor.

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

I just typed something, and it was not processed. So here is a condensed version of what I said.

Basically, Moses was different from an assassin who hears voices. He had miracles backing him up, demonstrating that he was the conduit of God's will. The conquest itself was unusual in the sense that the Israelites defeated nations stronger than they were, so their success may indicate God's hand; this is not so with an assassin, who just needs to practice his marksmanship and find a good place to hide. Moreover, the conquest was part of God's promise to Abraham that Israel would one day inherit the land. It was not a whim but related to a foundational aspect of Israel's nationhood.

Could you possibly explain what you mean when you say that biblical literature is not different from any other? To what are you comparing it?

Thanks for your response.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

I don't think biblical literature is inherently different than any other. The word "inherently" is important, because I do think it is different and special compared to other literatures.

In terms of what to compare it to, one could compare various elements of biblical literature to a variety of things. Jonah, for example, is a fantastic satire. The point I mean to make is that the authors of biblical texts did what any writers do: they use resources of language to give voice to what moved them, what they wanted to communicate. In that sense, the writers and the texts they produced are not inherently different than any other kind of author and text.

I think the difference between the Bible and other literatures lies in how we use it. Biblical literature is different because it has been used by Christian and Jewish communities for centuries as "our" text. Use of it defines our communities. I think that's a very powerful thing. But I also don't think it excuses us from critically evaluating it, which I think is important precisely so that we don't MISUSE it.

The questions we are talking about sure are not easy. But I think they're important to ask and talk about.

Quite honestly, I don't know how to respond to your thoughts on Moses and miracles and the nature of the conquest as fulfillment of God's promise to Abraham. I could say various things about little particulars (like: people who assassinate abortion doctors don't do it on a "whim"; it's quite intentional and done very much in the name of God). But I'm not sure that would be getting to the heart of the matter. We seem to understand the text (and Israel's history) quite differently, and I am not certain where to go next. Perhaps it is laying assumptions about what the text is and why we hold them on the table (which I've done here to a certain extent) so that we can see wherein the disagreement lies. If you have any ideas, please let me know.

James Pate said...

Thanks for your response.

I'm still working these issues out myself. My understanding is that many archaeologists do not believe that the conquest occurred, and I believe that their evidence and the reasons for their conclusion deserve open-minded consideration. Basically, what I believe is that the biblical text conveys to us what God is like. It offers a picture of God. I would prefer for it to be historical because I believe that my faith would be stronger if the biblical stories actually occurred in time-space reality, but I want to be open on the historicity question. In any case, I still accept the Bible as an accurate picture of what God is like. As far as biblical diversity is concerned, I try to recognize that the various portrayals of God offer some piece of the larger puzzle. Overall, though, I find God in the Bible to be largely consistent in the sense that he is the righteous, just, and yet loving ruler of the universe.

The question that we have been discussing seems to concern the effect of the text, which does not necessarily relate to whether or not it narrates an actual historical event. You, for example, may not believe that the conquest occurred (am I right?), and yet you find Deuteronomy 7 disturbing. One could ask, "Why find the conquest disturbing, if it did not even happen?" Your answer would probably be that the conquest story presents a model or has a negative effect in that religious communities take the biblical text seriously.

I do not think that this is necessarily the case. I believe that the conquest stories present God's justice in that God is punishing the inhabitants of the land for sin; God's justice on those inhabitants serves as a warning to the Israelites so that they can realize that the land is not theirs unconditionally. This is part of the conquest stories' theological function, in my opinion.

As I have said, I do not think that the conquest story urges people to "go and do likewise." In the story, it was a specific event to a specific people and related to God's land promise to Abraham.

My statement about the miracles was a response to your question about how to distinguish between the conquest and killing an abortionist. I think there is a difference between the conquest as it is presented in the text and an assassin. The text offers insights into why the conquest should be seen as God's will in the story: it was commanded by Moses, whose authority was confirmed by miracles. If a person hears the conquest story and thinks he is justified to shoot someone, I would ask him, "Well, how do you know that God wants you to do that? Has he done any miracles or shown you directly that doing so is his will?" My point is that the conquest should not be a "Go and do likewise" part of Scripture.

I know that sometimes I speak as if the biblical text is historical. When I say that such and such happened, I mean it happened in the story. Still, I struggle with theological problems that may exist if the text is not historical. My overall point is that the portrayal of God in the story of the conquest should not necessarily be seen in its worst possible light. I understand why people struggle with it; I do myself. But I believe that it performs a positive function in offering a portrait of God.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

I completely understand your struggle with historicity and faith, that your faith might be stronger if the events actually occurred. But not all truths are historical. (I wish someone could tell me where this idea came from...) Here's my own take on this issue: Whether historical or not, these stories can constitute modes of emplotment for how we live our own lives. When one, for example, uses Jesus' treatment of the prostitute as a model for how to treat others, or the exodus story as a paradigm as motivation to work for the freedom of the enslaved, the deep truth of those stories becomes very real and tangible, even if they never, historically speaking, took place. Being myths or legends or stories rather than history makes them no less powerful. Ask someone whose life has been changed by a person acting with one of these paradigms in mind. My own personal sense is that the historicity issue is a crutch, and one that often keeps us from seeing the value and the potential of the texts.

No, I do not think the conquest took place as stated. The archaeological record pretty much demonstrates that. You seem to assume that I find Deut 7 disturbing because it actually happened. That is not at all the case. I find it disturbing because of the ideas it conveys, which I've articulated in previous comments. As a mode of emplotment, it's a pretty frightening one.

You said: "If a person hears the conquest story and thinks he is justified to shoot someone, I would ask him, 'Well, how do you know that God wants you to do that?'" Well, how did the biblical writers know that God wills ethnic cleansing in the interest of his promise? (Incidentally, if one adopts a Rendtorffian view of Pentateuchal composition, Deut 7 probably wasn't written with the patriarchal promises in mind anyway... but that's getting us a bit off track.) What this boils down to is a matter of how one establishes authority. You've articulated this nicely with the issue of miracles. But are these miracles historical? Or were they written to boost the authority of Moses as prophetic character? The splitting of the water is a prophetic motif (see the Elijah/Elisha stories), and I've a feeling the rock/water story is, too. I struggle with the notion that anyone is above morality (e.g., has a "license" to kill) because they or their actions are somehow understood to be favored by God, whether this be through a miracle or otherwise. Very dangerous idea.

I, too, find the overall picture of God in the Bible to be righteous, just, and loving. My personal experience as a religious person echoes this. And that's precisely why I have a problem with reading Deut 7 as a truthful picture of God. What God commands in this text and the way the issue of Israelite identity is framed is not righteous, just, or loving. For me, that doesn't cause a crisis of faith. It makes me creatively rethink the value of the text. It moves me to think carefully about how I speak about God and how I act in the world, so that my words and actions are a conduit for that righteous, just, and loving God to be present in the world rather than twisting God to my own ends and wreaking havoc on other people in God's name. I often fail at this. (Big surprise. Don't we all?) But I think awareness of the potential is very important. And this text can help us be aware of it.

As for still working out these questions, I think we're all probably in the same boat.

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

I'll respond to each paragraph.

1. I have heard people say the sort of thing that you said about historicity--that it does not matter, or that what is important is the idea the text conveys and the impact that it has on people. I can understand this with the story of Jesus and the prostitute. I have more difficulty accepting this model for the Exodus. I acknowledge that there are places in the Torah in which God tells the Israelites to let the Exodus story shape how they treat others. You are right, therefore, to see the Exodus story as a model. I also think, however, that various biblical authors view the Exodus as a sign of God's power and a demonstration that he is above all other gods. If one takes away the historicity of the Exodus, then a tangible demonstration of that truth vanishes. My problem with what you say about the Exodus is that it is human oriented--WE are supposed to build a society of social justice. Where is God in this picture?

2. I acknowledged in my last post that you probably do not believe that the conquest occurred, but that you are disturbed by the model that the story presents. What I was trying to convey was that the conquest story was not a "Go and do likewise" type of story.

I will say this, though, and it may contradict my last paragraph. Both you and I may be wrestling with how exactly to fit historicity into this discussion. You ask, for example, "Well, how did the biblical writers know that God wills ethnic cleansing in the interest of his promise?" But, in your view, there was no ethnic cleansing. The assassin in your example actually did kill someone; the conquest, however, may not have even happened. So can the two really be considered the same thing?

3. I have a hard time accepting an idea that Deuteronomy 7 was written without the land promises in mind. I have not read Rendtorff's argument on this, though I believe I have heard Dr. Aaron say something similar; I may check out the relevant passages in his book. To me, the rest of the Pentateuch (Exodus to Deuteronomy) does seem to assume and build upon what occurs in Genesis. The rest seems incomprehensible without Genesis. If the Israelite conquest of Canaan is not based upon God's promise to Abraham, then what is its basis?

You ask if the miracles are historical. Again, we seem to be wrestling with how to fit historicity into this discussion. I like your question because it helps me to think this out. You have said that the conquest is not historical and yet gives you concern because the story offers a model. What I am trying to say is that the story does not encourage any Joe on the street to shoot people. The story seems to give a criterion for knowing something is from God--a miracle--so the conquest as it is depicted in the story is not the same as an assassin who hears voices. I am talking about the story and its model, not historicity. Both of us are, to some extent.

I have not up to this point really addressed your statement that religion can be twisted to serve selfish or evil ends. You have said that this is the lesson of the story or its canonical value. You wanted us to express our different presuppositions. This is actually a big difference in our approach. I have a hard time accepting a method of interpretation that ultimately sees the God of the text as wrong.

I'll stop here for the moment, but more elaboration or clarification can hopefully come out as the discussion continues.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

I'll do likewise:

1. I think God is EVERYWHERE in this picture of a just and compassionate world. When people act with these paradigms in mind, there are little exoduses and little resurrections every day (and maybe some big ones, too). People's lives are changed, and one can definitely see God as present and "acting" in that process. I could introduce you to a few such people. And maybe you are one yourself. Many of us have been touched by God in this way.

2. Yes, I think the two can be considered the same thing, because the same idea drives them: that God's will can justify an act of violence.

3. I think this issue comes down to the framework in which we read. You're looking at the broad sweep of the whole, which may be why you find it incomprehensible. But when you focus your framework on some details, you can see that maybe the whole wasn't initially meant to be a whole. On this, you might check out Rendtorff's "The Problem of the Process of Transmission of the Pentateuch," which is a short translation of the Genesis part of his bigger work which deals with the whole Pentateuch. Also interesting on this is the volume of essays called "A Farewell to the Yahwist?" where the issue of how Genesis is connected to Exodus is discussed in detail.

4. (O.K., now I'm adding points...) What about a different criterion for discerning whether something is "of God" or "godlike"? Like: Does an act bring grace into someone's life? Here again, I think of Jesus and the prostitute (and permit me to drash a little). His behavior in this story allowed someone whose actions demean her and put her in the dregs of society to see herself with dignity, as God might see her. What if we could act in this way toward everyone we met? The world would indeed be transformed and the proof of God's presence would be in the pudding. Just thinking out loud.

5. Why do you have a hard time accepting a method of interpretation that sees the God of the text as wrong? That's not a naive question; I'm trying to drive at the heart of presuppositions here. I think it has to do, again, with framing and one's understanding of what biblical literature is. I think biblical literature was written about God by people. It's no more infallible than the people who wrote it (who were on many occasions absolutely brilliant and profound). Thus I have no problem shifting my understanding of Deut 7 away from a text that really gets at God's nature and toward a text that illustrates how people can twist God to their own ends. Sure, I think God is just. But I don't think justice is what we're seeing in this text. If, on the other hand, you think God wrote these texts, well, that presents a very different framework for interpretation. (I'm presenting two extreme positions here, well recognizing that most of us are somewhere in the middle.)

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

1. I agree that there are exoduses and resurrections in people's lives. There is something that does not set right within me about making the Exodus solely about that, but I need to think some before I can articulate my problem.

Well, let me ask this: I remember that a few years ago at the Brad Young lecture you asked about supercessionism. I am not saying that you advocate that in your last post, but if you allow the Exodus story to relate to anyone, is it still a story that is distinctly Jewish--that discusses God's special relationship with Israel? I think that first we should see the story as God's demonstration of power and superiority over other gods in fulfillment of his covenant with Israel, and then we should ask how it can relate to anyone.

2. Do you believe that violence is wrong in all cases?

3. I'll take a look at these, hopefully this week. At the moment, I still think that Deuteronomy presupposes at least some things in Genesis. For example, I read Deuteronomy 2 last night, and it mentioned Lot. The author seems to assume that the readers or hearers know who Lot was. He may have thought that they did so through oral tradition, however.

4. Your criterion is tempting, but we still have to do something with the numerous examples of divine justice in the Old and New Testaments. And divine justice indeed is necessary. Sure, grace may be appropriate for those who choose to forsake a path of hurting others, but what about those who choose to continue their wicked deeds? Should God do nothing to stop them? That is why I believe there is more to God than grace.

5. Both you and I believe that the Bible is canon for some reason. Even you have stated that the conquest motif teaches us something. Can you believe that the Bible is an authoritative canon without holding that it is revelation, that somehow it is God communicating to us who he is?

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

1. I most definitely DO NOT advocate supersessionism. Yes, I think the exodus story is distinctively Jewish in the sense that it is not only part of the Jewish canon, but is also a key element of Jewish ritual, the latter element being perhaps what makes it a culturally-defining narrative within Judaism. Just like the events leading up to Jesus' crucifixion and resurrection are culturally-defining for Christians. But truths transcend the specifics of culture.

2. Generally, yes, I think violence is wrong. I hold respect for life as a primary value. That doesn't mean there aren't exceptions. If someone physically threatens my life, I will of course fight back. And then there are situations like the one Bonhoeffer found himself in, that really push the limits of this question and reveal its complicated nature. I can't say I would have made the same decision he did, but I respect his ardent struggle with the question.

3. Rendtorff's theory does not preclude additions made after Genesis and the rest of the Pentateuch were combined. Unfortunately, I can't recall offhand how (or whether) he deals with this particular text.

4. I believe I explicitly said that I think God is just. I do, however, struggle with the notion of attempting to act as the agent of God's justice. It's simply too easy to confuse God's sense of justice with my own, because I cannot see the "big picture," and my own sense of justice is too easily mixed with anger, fear, sense of moral superiority, and other such ickiness that we humans are always fighting to transcend. That's exactly what I think is happening for the writer of Deut 7.

5. This depends on how you think revelation works. I think people wrote these texts and some of them (a lot of them) were inspired by some pretty profound truths. Once in while, like Deut 7, other motivating factors got involved. Like self-preservation at the expense of an other, fear, bigotry, etc. Those reveal a lot of truth about human nature, but not very much truth about God, as far as I am concerned. I also think revelation is not limited to canon. I know as much about God through my experience in life as I learned from biblical texts. In fact, I don't believe in grace because I read about it. I believe in grace because I've experienced it and seen it happen to others. Canon reflects use and conscious adoption; it doesn't change the nature of the texts. The Bible does tell us a great deal about God, so I in no way mean to minimize that function. But we have to use it intelligently, with feeling, and responsibly. And I think you and I are both grappling with how to do that.

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

Thanks for the thought-provoking responses.

1. Yes, I agree with you that the Exodus and the resurrection are culturally defining. I believe, however, that people should recognize the value of the specific narratives themselves rather than seeing the narratives only as metaphors for personal deliverance or resurrection. What do I mean by this? When I was an undergraduate, there was a liberal dean of chapel, and he saw the resurrection stories in the Gospels as a metaphor for life coming out of death. He probably had in mind such things as social justice and individual deliverance from problems. I do not dismiss the possibility that the resurrection of Jesus relates to such issues, but I think that its value exists for other reasons as well. The resurrection demonstrated that Jesus is Son of God and that God will judge the world through him. It also is the guarantee that Christians will one day be resurrected unto life eternal. These are aspects of the resurrection that are not related to it being a metaphor. I believe the same is true for the Exodus. It is about social justice and deliverance, but it is about other things as well, such as God's authority, power, superiority to other gods, and covenant with Israel.

2. Were not the Israelites acting in self-defense through the conquest? Sihon king of the Amorites had conquered territory before. He was a bully. Could Israelites safely dwell in the land with him nearby? I know we have discussed this before, but could Israel be a godly nation when she was continually tempted by Canaanite idolatry in her very midst?

After thinking about the Deuteronomy chapter that I read last night for my weekly Bible reading, though, I do think that there was more to the conquest than the issues I just mentioned, since the Israelites treated cities right outside of Canaan differently from the cities inside of Canaan. For the ones inside, every breathing person and thing died as a sacrifice to God, whereas some were spared outside of Canaan. There is some motif about sacrifice that underlies the conquest, making it more than about justice, self-preservation, and religious purity, even though I think the Bible acknowledges that it is about those three things.

3. I'm interested to see his argument. I do want to say something about source criticism, however. What I will say is not necessarily scholarly, since I need more exposure to it before I can make a serious comment. My current impression is, though, that source criticism is not really falsifiable. If a source critic can make a statement, and I can come up with what seems to be a counterexample, and he can then say that the counterexample was added later and does not really refute his argument, then I wonder how exactly his argument can be refuted. The same goes with JEPD. If an advocate of this says J believes such and such, and I show him a part of J that does not coincide with such and such, he can just say that the part was added later and is not a part of J. It just sounds slippery to me, but I do not dismiss the existence of tension and contradiction and language in the biblical text.

4. Yes, I read your post another time after I made my post, and I did notice that you explicitly stated your belief in divine justice. I should have acknowledged that. The conquest, though, does seem to be an example of divine justice that accords with other examples in the Hebrew Bible. God destroys sinful societies, sometimes by himself, and sometimes through a nation or government. If one were to disregard the importance of these passages and make grace a criterion to determine what is of God, then one is leaving out a significant portion of the Hebrew Bible.

You say that we are limited, and, yet, interestingly, the conservative Christians whom I have asked about the conquest say the same thing, only they take things in a different direction than you might. They say that God is above us and we are limited, so we cannot ultimately say that God is wrong. You have probably heard this before, but I just found it interesting that people can take the concept of human limitations in different directions to make different points.

5. I am intrigued by some of your points here, even though I disagree. They address the question of why we believe what we believe. Do I believe in God because of a text's "testimony" from many generations, or do I believe from experience? One question I have about experience is this: You believe that you have experienced grace from God, and you most likely have. But you are labelling your experience by drawing from Jewish and Christian concepts that are in the Bible and subsequent interpretation. Such concepts include God and grace. You are seeing your experience through the lens of the Bible. Does not that imply seeing the Bible as authoritative? And if you accept the existence of God and grace as true, why not other parts?

Please ask for any clarification I need to make.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

1. Gotta think more about how to respond to this.

2. Here's maybe a different way to frame things: Can you (James Pate) or I (Angie Erisman) be godly in a world full of things and people that tempt us not to be? What makes you and I so different from Israel? Are there not more "godlike" ways of disciplining ourselves to be godlike?

3a. Rendtorff completely rejects source criticism. This doesn't mean he rejects historical criticism or the notion of a composite text. He just rejects the Documentary Hypothesis as a feasible way to explain, as you say, the tensions and contradictions. Incidentally, so do I.

3b. We're interpreting texts from an ancient culture here, not doing science. Falsification is not really an issue, at least not in the same way as it is in science. We can't do experiments. We've just a very limited corpus of data from which to try, as best we can, to extrapolate things like composition-history. I frame it this way: it's a question of which hypothesis best explains the text we have in front of us.

4. Does God give AIDS to homosexuals (and drug addicts and completely innocent children of drug addicts and women whose partners sleep around, contract it, and give it to them, the latter a huge problem in Africa, for example) in order to punish them for sexual sins?

My own sense is that God is just, and the idea of divine justice gives us comfort when things in life aren't quite just. Here's an example: If a man raped me and gave me AIDS, as angry and upset and hungry for justice as I would be, I sincerely hope that none of those who care about me would take it into their hands to harm that man. Should he go to prison? Sure. Be killed. Nope. My hope for him would be that his life might be turned around just as much as mine might as we both heal from what took place. In that hope would lie both my own healing as well (one hopes) as his. Whatever God in his justice does with such a person is, as Job 40-41 would put it in rather colorful language, beyond my ken.

5. I think the Bible gives us a vocabulary, paradigms, modes of emplotment which we can use to articulate that experience and convey it to others. Grace, for example, is a Christianity-loaded word. I don't hear too many Jews use it, for example. But that doesn't mean they don't experience grace or act to bring it into the lives of others. I know one particularly profound story of this, but there are many, many such. They just articulate it differently. The truth is bigger than either Christianity or Judaism. Maybe kind of like "Fuji" and "Braeburn" are both apples. (That's a silly analogy, but maybe it works.) In many ways, Passover and Easter are ritualized paradigms for the same truths. That's not to reduce them to the lowest common denominator or suggest that they are interchangeable, because they're certainly not, and a lot would be lost by doing that. But they do speak to many of the same things.

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

1. Yes, take your time. I'll be here. There are things I need time to think about too.

2. Maybe part of the issue (in the story) was that Israel was surrounded by idolatry in Egypt, so God realized she was not strong enough to withstand idolatry in Canaan. And she wasn't.

3a. I have not yet read Rendtorff (well, actually, I think I read one of his essays in a book in Jews, Christians, and historical-criticism, but I don't think he was stating his views on Pentateuchal criticism there), so my viewpoint is not entirely informed. My impression from what you have told me, though, is that he believes in some form of source criticism, but not the JEDP variety. He thinks that Deuteronomy had an author who did not have Genesis in mind. He differs from the traditional notion that views the Pentateuch as the product of a single author. Therefore, he seems to think that there are different sources in the Pentateuch.

3b. Fair enough. Again, I should read more on source criticism. But there has to be something that makes it more than assertion, right? Sure, it cannot be tested in a lab, but is there an objective standard to evaluate a source critical argument?

4. But the Pentateuch does give society the right (and the duty) to put murderers to death. Criminals should pay for what they do to the innocent.

5. What you seem to be saying here is that there is an event, and various religions describe it in certain ways. That is probably true. Is one way of describing the event superior to another?

The last point may be attacking a strawman, but please be charitable. :)

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

2. So being too weak is an excuse for genocide? (Just pushing the envelope, here...)

3a. Rendtorff's view is not source criticism. You'll see when you read the book.

4. Yes, criminals should be held accountable for their actions. But, in my view, not with death. My view on this is informed not only by the high value I place on human life, but also the vagaries of the justice system. But that takes us down the path of a different messy topic... one at a time. : )

5. No, I don't really think one is superior to the other. I know that may be a stunning thing to say, because we all want a corner on the truth. I think Christianity and Judaism each has its own strengths and unique things it contributes to the religious world. Sometimes I think they're quite complimentary. The idea of forgiveness is a great example of this for me. Christianity articulates the idea of forgiveness through grace extremely well. A real gift. Judaism, I think, does a much better job at getting at the forgiveness that is needed to repair relationships. Also a real gift. I don't see the two as mutually exclusive (both are important), but in a sense two sides of the same coin. My own views on the matter have been very much informed and enriched by both, and I fondly recall the conversations with various rabbinical students over the years that have helped me formulate things this way.

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

2. That's a hard question to answer. I think that the Israelite's weakness was one reason for the conquest, but not the only reason. There is also the biblical view that the Canaanites actually deserved to lose their land. I will have to think more about your question, since we too live in a culture with many temptations to sin, and some are better able to withstand them than others. Maybe part of the answer is that we have the Holy Spirit available to us to help us resist sin, and we also have centuries of divine revelation. The Israelites, however, had to rely on physical ordinances to keep them on track, and they were also beginning to learn God's will. Those considerations may have made them more susceptible to temptation than Christians are today.

4. You are right, the topic of the death penalty opens a can of worms. Still, it is mandated in the Old Testament. The authors of the Old Testament do not seem to view human life as an absolute. I will add something--and many opponents of the death penalty have either laughed at me or looked at me with puzzlement when I say this: the death penalty actually recognizes the value of human life, since it rests on the idea that the only payment for the loss of a human life is the life of the murderer. Any lesser payment cheapens the life of the victim, in my opinion.

5. I will not only say that I have learned from Judaism. I will also say that there are things about Judaism that I like better than Christianity, at least the versions that I have heard throughout my life. Judaism claims to offer a tangible way to be free from passions, Torah study, whereas Christianity seems to suggest that a person's act comes together once he or she is born again. Judaism says to do the good deed whether you feel like doing it or not, and hopefully the right motivation will follow. At times, I have heard pastors say that we should not even do a good deed without the right intention.

Regarding your comparison, I think that both Judaism and Christianity have some of the elements that you discuss. Both claim to offer grace, or forgiveness of sin. I would say, though, that the God of Christianity is more attractive because he suffered and died to bring us that grace. Christianity also exhorts us to forgive, love, and be reconciled with one another, as various passages in the Gospel of Matthew and the Pauline epistles indicate.

One question I have about your method of identifying the gifts of different religions is this: If you can basically take from different religions the things that you like, is that not a cafeteria approach? Can you actually see the end product--the system of beliefs that you put together from various religions--as true when it is arguably your own creation?

That is why I choose a particular religion, even though there are elements in other religions that I like better. I would have a hard time seeing a theology created by myself as true. That is also why I try to rely on the biblical portrayals of God to form my own conception.

Whether I do so successfully (considering my own biases) is a good question.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

4. Stoning adulterers is also mandated in the Hebrew Bible. Why do we take one mandate and discard another? (That's not a naive question. I'm after principles of interpretation here.) Perhaps it may be because the death penalty for murderers is lex talionis, while death is too harsh a punishment for adultery. Not sure. But lex talionis is a legal principle, articulating that reparations should be fair. It's not really a literal statement, and isn't even applied as such in biblical law, where things like one's social status come into play in figuring what's fair.

5. I don't see this as a cafeteria approach. Not being Jewish, for example, I don't typically practice Judaism unless I am a guest with friends. My critical approach to scripture is not a matter of picking and choosing what happens to suit me, but of thoughtful and responsible interpretation of text. The God depicted in Exod 34:6-7 and the God depicted in Deut 7 are incompatible. I am therefore confronted with how to understand God in light of this little problem. One way of doing that is to maintain the view that even Deut 7 is a true revelation about God and try to come up with an intellectual construct that embraces them both. Because I see these texts as written by humans and no more infallible than they are (and, consequently, understand canon in a different light), I understand the value of the texts within the canon more broadly and am not glued to the idea that every word has to reveal something to me about God's true nature. So it's not a matter of "I like this one better," but of weighing all the factors involved to discern how I ought to interpret and use the text.

Incidentally (and this may be stating the obvious, but it bears stating), even within Christianity there are a whole variety of theologies and approaches to ritual. A cafeteria from which to choose, you might say. Celtic Christianity is one that is a bit off the beaten track, for example. So the element of choosing what best resonates with us cannot really be escaped.

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

4. As with all passages of Scripture, I believe that stoning adulterers should be given the benefit of a doubt. You will probably bring up Jesus and the prostitute, and I will have to think about how to respond to that. My overall point is that the Torah does not recognize human life as an absolute. People can say, "Well, in the Old Testament there was the death penalty, but now we live in New Testament times," but, still, if human life were an absolute, God would not have mandated the death penalty at any time. And the Bible does not just mandate the death penalty in his instructions to Israel, for the death penalty for murder is a universal command, as Genesis 9 indicates.

I do not entirely agree with you on social status and the Bible. There are plenty of passages in the Torah about judging the rich and the poor alike with righteousness, and the Bible does not reflect the rigid unfairness of such ancient Near Eastern sources as the Code of Hammurabi, where punishment is explicitly based on social class.

5. I'm still trying to figure out your methodology, as far as constructing a theology is concerned. For me, I have not seen God, therefore I have to rely on revelation to know him. I have to accept all of the revelation, otherwise I am creating my own concept of God. I did read your comments under this heading, but I wonder how they play out practically. If you choose Exodus 34 over Deuteronomy 7, is not the ultimate reason that you like one better? You say that this is not your reason and that you weigh all the factors to see how you should interpret and use the text. What exactly does that mean? And can a person weigh all of the factors? And is there not a lot of subjectivity involved in that, especially when one starts preferring one text to the other?

Personally, I see not contradiction between Exodus 34 and Deuteronomy 7 because Exodus 34 does not just talk about grace. It mentions God not clearing the guilty and punishing down to the third and fourth generations. And there was a sense in which God was slow to anger regarding the Canaanites, since he allowed their iniquity to fill up before he expelled them from the land (Genesis 15).

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

4a. You're right. Human life is not an absolute, but a gift from God. Perhaps only God ultimately has the purview to take it away.

4b. My comment on social status was not meant to be a generalization about the Hebrew Bible. Read the law in Exod 21 about the goring ox and you will see that social status does indeed come into play in the application of a legal principle just as it does in the Code of Hammurabi. That's not to diminish the other passages to which you generally refer. Again, we have an issue of conflicting views of an issue. If slave and free are indeed alike, what's up with Exod 21? Well, different authors, different ideas...

5. Sure, James, you have to rely on revelation to know God. But what's revelation? And what's ALL of it? You seem to be operating under the assumption (please do correct me if I'm wrong) that the canon of scripture (whichever one you happen to accept; as for me, I read the book of Judith in church as a child) is what constitutes revelation, and nothing else. I see no reason to limit revelation to the canon or to see revelation in the canon as inherently different from that outside of it. The difference is that these corpi of literature have been used by and have defined religious groups for centuries. In theory, I suppose you could say that this long-term use, as well as the specific debates about what literature was "in" and what "out" weeded out the wheat from the chaff. In any event, it was not entirely successful, as texts such as Deut 7 and other passages that advocate divinely-mandated genocide suggest.

One simply can't reduce the diversity within the Bible to a single coherent theological construct and still account for it all as revelation of God's true nature. You mention the God who punishes to the third and fourth generation. Well, that's a great example of just exactly what I'm talking about. The author of Ezekiel 18 turned this specific notion on its very head! He FLAT OUT disagreed with it! He clearly didn't disagree with the idea that God is just and punishes, but he sure did disagree about how God does that, and went on for a whole chapter developing an argument against it. In cases like this, we as users of scripture have to decide which really does reflect God's nature. And that must involve deciding ourselves (based on whatever criteria we set up) what's wheat and what's chaff. It's not simply a matter of "accept it all unquestioningly as revelation" or "pick and choose as you like." It's a matter of careful, thoughtful weighing.

Not being a theologian, I don't have a neatly worked-out system for this. I know some, for example, rely on Jesus' teachings as a benchmark against which to evaluate. Perhaps one way of putting it is this: when confronted, for example, with a God who punishes the children for the sins of the father or a God who punishes only the sinner, I'm going to weigh in on the side of the latter because (a) it's more just (innocent people don't pay), and (b) it's more consistent with the idea of redemption, which is the core message of the core defining narratives of both Christianity and Judaism. But I don't state that as a general principle, just an example to illustrate what I mean.

No, a person cannot weigh all the possible factors in any decision in life. If we tried, we would never do anything and rot in a corner. But the fact that we cannot doesn't excuse us, in my view, from doing the best we can with the information and time we have in any given circumstance. Part of what this means, perhaps, is always being open to revision and growth.

James Pate said...

Thanks for your response, Angie.

4a. But God does have the right to delegate to humans (such as the state) the duty of taking life in the pursuit of justice.

4b. That is a troublesome issue, and your interpretation may be right. But I will say two things. First, Exodus 21 does in some sense recognize the humanity of the slave; if a master kills his slave, the slave is to be avenged. The slave is obviously not the absolute property of his master, subject to the master's every whim. Second, the law about the ox is strange at the outset. If an ox gores a man or woman, the ox is stoned. If the ox has a reputation for this sort of thing, then the owner of the ox is executed, unless the family of the victim agree for the owner to pay a ransom; this is not your usual capital case, which does not allow for a ransom. If the ox gores a slave, the owner of the ox pays the master. Your concern seems to be that there is no option for the owner to be put to death when the ox gores a slave, whereas there is an option if the ox gores someone else. Perhaps the master in this case acts in lieu of the slave's family and accepts a ransom (so suggests Tigay in the Jewish Study Bible). Plus, there is some measure of equality in the sense that the ox is stoned for killing the slave, the same as he is stoned for killing anyone else. These are just proposals, and the issue you raise can certainly use more thought by those who want to defend the justice of the Bible. I am just saying that even Exodus 21 should not be stereotyped as wholly negative, in the same way that Exodus 34 should not be deemed wholly positive (positive and negative being measured according to our standards, that is).

5. I do believe that the Bible as revelation trumps other forms of revelation. Nature is a testimony that there is a God, but it is not explicit about certain truths. People may be personally moved by God, but how can we know when we are moved by God and when our own emotions are the source of our inspiration? But which canon? I will have to think more about this. I once did attend a debate between a Protestant and a Catholic on the apocrypha, and I left unsatisfied, though I can probably review the two positions. The question I would have is whether or not the apocrypha contradicts the overall picture of God that appears in the Hebrew Bible. My overall sense at the moment is that it does not.

I appreciate you setting out principles to evaluate aspects of the Bible. Our view on morality should not be thrown out the window as we look at the text. Ideally, my hope is that even the troublesome passages of the Bible conform to what we know to be morally true.

I will propose this for Ezekiel 18. Ezekiel 18 seems to be addressed to people who believe that they are suffering because of their parents' sins, not their own. Ezekiel says that they are suffering for their own sins. Overall, I do not think that other passages of Scripture contradict this principle. I cannot think of an example in Scripture where an innocent person suffers for the sin of his ancestor. When a person does suffer for ancestral sin, he is also suffering for his own. For example, in Dtr, Jerusalem is destroyed because of the sin of Manasseh, but she herself also sinned. When someone does righteously, as Josiah did, the punishment is postponed to a subsequent generation. One can conceive that, if Israel continued being righteous, she would not suffer punishment, since it would keep being postponed.

These are my musings for the time being. In all, I believe that we should take the passages about transgenerational punishment, along with Ezekiel 18, and see what each contributes theologically. For me, I do not believe that there is chaff in the Bible; I do not immediately discern the value in every detail, but I do believe value is there.

James Pate said...

I will add a correction to my previous post. There may be examples in which an innocent person suffers for his parent's sin. Achan's family, Saul's sons, Haman's sons, and the sons of the wicked people in Daniel may be such examples, though the text does not discuss whether or not they were guilty personally.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

Thanks for your continuing participation! I hope if anyone else is reading our little discussion that they're getting something out of it. (And I invite them to jump in...)

4a. So we're back to the problem: How do I tell whether God is designating me to commit an act of violence on his behalf, or whether I'm motivated by own anger, bigotry, hatred, etc.? (This is not easy. See comments below on self-righteousness.)

4b. My point regarding Exod 21 was simply to point out that lex talionis (e.g., death for death) is a legal principle not even applied across the board in Tanakh. Other factors come into play.

5a. How is a person who wrote a text that made it into a canon inherently different from a person who is moved by, say, the Holy Spirit? And how is his "text" inherently different than one you or I might write when so moved? I mean this question to really get at the heart of why we hold one kind of revelation higher than another, and what it really is that differentiates the canon from other revelation.

I've asserted that they are not inherently different, and what makes the canon different from the texts you or I might produce is generations of use, ritualization, and a culturally-defining status. I'd very much like to hear your answer to this question.

5b. Does genocide, or ethnic cleansing, or the wholesale slaughter of entire populations (or whatever term you want to use for it)---irrespective of what they might have done wrong---conform to what you know to be morally true and just?

5c. I really ought to rethink my use of the word "chaff" in this circumstance. It implies that one throws that part away. And that's not at all the idea I mean to convey about Deut 7 or any other text for that matter. It's in the canon. There's no taking it out. The question is how might we find value in it as a part of our literature. Because genocide flatly and grossly contracts my sense of morality, my sense of justice, and my understanding of God (as both graceful and just), gained both from reading scripture and experiencing life as a person of faith, I simply cannot entertain the notion that such a command is in fact of God. Anything else is running in circles.

So I find a different (and, in my view, equally important) value for such a text. Human beings are capable of profoundly wonderful things. But we also have the potential to be really, really awful. And sometimes we're self-righteous on top of it, and sometimes we are so self-righteous we claim that even God is on our side. It's one thing if we're self-righteous about, say, the kind of beer we drink. But it's another thing entirely when suffering and injury come to others because we are self-righteous. Furthermore, we malign God in the process. I can think of nothing more awful or more irreverent. And I don't see the biblical authors as, theoretically, any less susceptible to this than you or I. I think this text holds a mirror up to that nastier part of us. None of us is immune. This text is not chaff. Its value is immense, if only we can articulate it. And I'm not sure we don't have a responsibility to articulate it. That's what I'm trying to do here.

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

I'm getting a lot out of this conversation too.

4a. I'll think more about this one rather than regurgitate what I have written so far. Hopefully looking at it afresh will help me either to clarify previous answers or to offer something new (not original, but new from me).

4b. That's true--lex talionis was not strictly applied in the case of the ox, since there could be payment or ransom. The reason may be that the owner was culpable due to negligence rather than deliberate injury of another.

5a. This answer may not satisfy you, but I think that God was involved in preserving and canonizing the books that were preserved and canonized. If God has a message to convey, then he will convey it. I do not think that there are lost books of the Bible that are hidden and waiting to be found. Moreover, communities for centuries have found value in the canonized books. They are tested and true; that is why I would trust them more than something that a person today may write.

5b. I am disturbed by the slaughter of children, but even that may have had a purpose (e.g., to insure that there were no future claimants to the land to give Israel problems). The challenge is to find a purpose that is good enough or makes sense. Overall, the killing of people who did abominable acts is just, in my opinion. As I pointed out in a previous post, the Amorites were a conquering people. Israel was as justified to conquer her as we were to defeat Nazi Germany.

5c. I will say that I do not detect self-righteousness in the conquest passages. The conquest is actually a warning to Israel not to imitate the Canaanites, since the land can vomit Israel out as well. That is a message that humbles, not one that invokes pride or makes Israel feel superior.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

5a. Satistying ME isn't the point. Gaining a deeper understanding of the nature of the texts, of canon, and how both were produced is. That's the point for all of us. I'm learning here, whether or not my responses satisfy you.

5b. You say regarding the slaughter of children (and presumably about genocide as well, but you spoke directly about children, and I don't want to put words in your mouth): "The challenge is to find a purpose that is good enough or makes sense." Is there a purpose good enough to justify the wholesale slaughter of an entire group of people?

You mention US involvement in WWII. As much of a pacifist as I am, I am open to the idea that there is such a thing as a just war (although not that all of its effects are just). Also, note my comment in an earlier post on Bonhoeffer. I have a deep respect for engagement of these issues where the rubber really meets the road, as it did for him. But a war or the assassination of a single individual is not the same thing as genocide. Still horrible. But not the same thing.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Hi James,

Just thought of another way to frame this issue. Let's turn the sweater inside out:

Put yourself in the position of a Canaanite in that text. Even imagine yourself as a perpetrator of child sacrifice, a real sinner. How would you want God to deal with you? How would you expect God to deal with you? And why? Think outside the box of this particular text.

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

4a. That is a good way to look at it.

I'll cut to the chase and answer your last post. At the moment, the only answer I have to your other points is things that I have already said, and I do not want to regurgitate unless I have to do so.

If I were a Canaanite child sacrificer, I would only have myself to blame if I were killed. In the biblical text, the Canaanites seem to have had an idea that the Israelite God was the true one. There are texts that talk about the Canaanites being afraid after hearing about God's work on behalf of the Israelites. With this knowledge, why didn't I--Canaanite James--leave Canaan?

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

Well, James, I have to admit you're kind of blowing me away here. Let me tell you what I see. Maybe it's not worth much, but here's trying. I hope I don't offend you in the process.

I see that you are really striving to make all the pieces of scripture fit into a single coherent intellectual construct. A fair enough task. (Not one I'd pick, but a fair enough task.) I wonder if you're so wrapped up in this task that it has blinded you to the radical possibility of redemption, so much so that you cannot even hope it for yourself. You're a Christian. I presume the idea that Jesus conquered death is a pretty important part of your theology. Death is really the ultimate fate, one that is not escapable for any of us. Furthermore, depending on your theology, it's the consequence of a sin, a punishment. Is not the whole message of Easter the idea that redemption is indeed possible even in the worst of all circumstances, that one ought to not only hope in it, but expect it? And, furthermore, work for it in life? That doesn't erase the notion of a just God who punishes, but it sure puts it in some serious perspective.

If Canaanite James (or even regular James) cannot see this profound hope for redemption, which is soon to be ritualized yet again through both Pesah and Easter, I don't know how to respond except to say how sorry I am that that's the case. What you miss...

James Pate said...

Hi Angie,

Well, I've been reading some George MacDonald lately. Maybe that will help me change my tune. :)

I plead guilty to trying to fit the Scriptures into an intellectual construct. I want to see how the the various parts reflect the positive aspects of God's character. And my attempts and proposals are not perfect. I am tackling questions that I, in my limited capacity, am not worthy to tackle. I will admit that my responses to you are largely an intellectual exercise to make sense of serious issues, and my approach should encompass more than that. What exactly it should encompass is something that I will have to think about. Awe? Humility? Reverence? Something like that. How to manufacture these things within me, I have no idea.

I believe in redemption, but I also think that there is divine punishment. People like to say that Christians should follow the New Testament rather than the vengeful God of the Old Testament, but the God of the New Testament has vengeance too. Jesus in the New Testament predicted the destruction of Jerusalem, which Josephus reported was a horrible experience. He preached about hell. The Book of Revelation has wrath and blood. Can one can truly appreciate redemption without realizing from what we have been redeemed, as well as the fact that our salvation came because Jesus had to endure the wrath of God upon himself?

In the end, people have only themselves to blame if they experience God's wrath. The question for me to ask myself is, How can I maintain this attitude without thinking that I am better than someone else. I know that I am not. I am a sinner saved by grace. Still, grace implies the existence of wrath in the first place. And grace is not unconditional, but it requires such things as faith and repentance.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

But James, you ARE worthy to tackle these questions. Not only that, but failing to tackle them on some level is a sell-out. The intellect is a gift. Why not use it and be proud of using it? In fact, I would offer that the "I'm not worthy" attitude may be a false humility that keeps one from engaging in these questions deeply enough. This isn't hubris. Neither you nor I nor anyone else is ever going to have a corner on the truth. But that doesn't excuse us from using the gifts we have in the effort to discern it as well as we possibly can. It takes some doing, but it is possible to combine this task with a real humility and awe.

Don't sell out, James. Or, if you're going to, at least stop paying tuition... ;)

James Pate said...

I'll continue to tackle them. Life would be pretty boring if I did not. I just wonder if making something solely an intellectual exercise really gets at the intention of God or adequately expresses why God does what he does. I do not know what the alternative is, and I think that we have to do our best to do what we can with the text we have before us. But I just find that there is something missing when I (or others) discuss these sorts of issues. For example, when Christians debate about Calvinism, the debate becomes a battle of proof-texts and who is right. I wonder where their deep awe and reverence is. In the past, I have debated the issue of homosexuality with others. I feel that my position was right, but something was missing. Maybe it was humility, or something to that effect.

You are right, though, that the task should be done. I have profited from learning about your approach to the text, and I am sure that what you have presented so far only scratches the surface. I feel that this post is becoming a conversation stopper, so please feel free to tie it to a theological issue we can further discuss.

Angela Roskop Erisman said...

You're right, James, that there are other things at stake. It is not merely an intellectual exercise, and that point has in one way or another been running under everything I've said here. One of those other things is, as you said, awe, humility, reverence. Another thing is that the welfare of our own and other people's lives is at stake. These are not just abstract exercises, and the answers we come up with matter a great a deal.

This is (I think) why the way we grapple with a text like Deut 7 is so important. That text says it's not only o.k., but God's will to obliterate entire groups of people under certain circumstances. There couldn't be a less abstract issue. People die. Entire cultures are wiped out. The whole world loses. One could say the same for the homosexuality issue. No matter how you grapple with that issue in terms of how to interpret the text, it is important to remember that people who otherwise want to build homes and families rooted in loving relationships just like any hetereosexual couple can (and do) suffer because of how this issue is framed.

It's important to dig as far down as possible to understand our motivations for interpreting texts as we do not simply so that we can come up with nice intellectual constructs to explain it all, but so that we can best serve God and so that people don't needlessly suffer (whether it be ourselves or others) simply because of our actions. I think those two (i.e., serve God and work to minimize needless suffering) are the same thing.

Anyway, a conversation-stopper is fine, and rest is good. So no worries.