Peckham on Jonah, Third Isaiah, and Style

I have three items for my write-up today of Brian Peckham’s History and Prophecy.

1.  Peckham argues that the Book of Jonah is a parody that is mocking the prophets.  Peckham states on page 690 that “The original work was written in response to the fatalism of the Deuteronomistic History and the book of Jeremiah, in which the fall of Jerusalem was a necessary consequence either of sin or of the rejection of the prophets.”  According to Peckham, the Deuteronomistic History is fatalistic in that it depicts the reform of Josiah as ineffective in preventing the coming catastrophe, for the sin of Manasseh was so great that it needed to be punished.  Regarding the Book of Jeremiah, the book presents Jeremiah refusing to intercede for the people of Judah.  The Book of Jonah mocks these ideas, for it features the repentance of the Ninevites preventing the destruction of their city, and Jonah the prophet being rebuked by God because of his reluctance to help the city to repent and avoid destruction.  Moreover, Jonah the prophet brings trouble to people on the ship to Tarshish, which is another put-down of prophets.

There may be something to Peckham’s argument, but, on page 702, Peckham states that the Deuteronomistic History portrays the prophets as preachers of repentance, urging people to prevent their doom.  So which is it?  Was the Deuteronomist fatalistic, or did he believe that repentance could overturn a coming catastrophe?  Maybe both.

2.  Peckham presents Third Isaiah as anti-establishment.  Unlike Second Isaiah, he did not desire the restoration of the Davidic monarchy—and, according to Peckham, Isaiah 8:16-23′s condemnation of necromancy is actually Third Isaiah’s condemnation of Second Isaiah for envisioning the restoration of the defunct Davidic dynasty (page 739)!  As far as Third Isaiah is concerned, Israel should not rely on that corpse!  Third Isaiah envisions the habitation in Zion of a purified worshiping community, a remnant, and he downplays parts of Isaiah that magnify Hezekiah, replacing him or Immanuel with the remnant in God’s plan.  For example, Peckham states on page 718 that “The issue is defined at the start by identifying the Davidic shoot from the stump of Jesse with the holy remnant (6:13; cf. 4:2-3; 10:33-11:10) and by including among the children of Isaiah one who is called ‘A Remnant Shall Return,’ a rival of the child Immanuel (7:3; 10:20-23).”

Peckham also appears to depict Third Isaiah as xenophobic, for he says that Third Isaiah substitutes Second Isaiah’s vision of nations flocking to Jerusalem to worship with “unwanted foreigners who fill the city” (page 718).  I wonder how Peckham would address Isaiah 56, which welcomes foreigners into Israel’s worship, for Peckham does identify that chapter as part of Third Isaiah.  Peckham also says that Third Isaiah believed God would not forgive the worship of idols but would reject the nation, which contrasts with Second Isaiah’s encouragement of Israel.  Under this model, Third Isaiah probably held that God would reject the nation, yet would rebuild it on a purified remnant.

3.  On page 736, Peckham refers to parts of the Book of Jeremiah that were “composed in imitation of [Jeremiah's] dramatic style”.  In this book, I have not seen Peckham differentiate sources on the basis of style, but rather on the basis of ideas.  After all, can style be a reliable in helping one to differentiate sources, when styles can be imitated?

Crusemann on Mosaic Courts, Deuteronomistic Additions to the Cultic Decalogue, and Unjust Mishpatim

For my write-up today of Frank Crusemann’s The Torah: Theology and Social History of Old Testament Law, I have three items:

1.  On page 107, Crusemann states: “There probably was a Mosaically legitimized institution during the monarchic period that made a decisive contribution to the establishment of a legal system independent of the state and royalty.”  In the post-exilic period, however, “Moses” was the rubric under which different traditions were united, the Torah could “survive all institutions”, and tradition could be renewed.  But, regarding the pre-exilic monarchic period, “Moses” was used to legitimize a court system—which we see in II Chronicles 19 that King Jehosophat sanctioned, but which (according to Crusemann) was independent of the monarchy.  It consisted of judges, priests, and heads of families, and there is evidence in the Deuteronomic law of its existence.  Crusemann states on page 98 that this court spoke in the name of Moses and handled “the Israelite law originating ultimately from God” (page 98).

2.  On pages 118-119, Crusemann talks about the scholarly argument that there are Deuteronomistic additions to Exodus 34, which contains the cultic Decalogue:

“This, of course, raises the question to what extent is it legitimate to use literary criticism on phrases and expressions like ‘take care that…’ simply because they are found only or predominantly in Deuteronomy or in deuteronomistic texts.  This eliminates the possibility that this might be, for example, an early deuteronomistic text.  What justification is there to regard phrases such as ‘jealous God’…which appears next to the unique ‘jealous YHWH’…in verse 14 as only an addition, because it is otherwise found only in Deuteronomy and the Decalogue?  The stylistically impressive doubling in verse 14 is then destroyed.  By what right do we exclude as deuteronomistic the formula already found in Hosea, ‘your God;’ or the designation, though not word-for-word at least present in substance in pre-deuteronomistic material, of another temple besides Jerusalem as ‘house of God?’”

Crusemann’s argument is that not everything that is identified as a Deuteronomistic addition to Exodus 34 necessarily is that, for the Deuteronomistic terminology either appears in non-Deuteronomistic material, or Crusemann can envision a non-Deuteronomist using it (i.e., “take care that”).  But Crusemann is open to accepting v 25b as Deuteronomistic.  That verse refers to a chag—a pilgrimage festival—which, for Crusemann, assumes a central cultic place, a significant feature of Deuteronomic and Deuteronomistic thought.

3.  On pages 166-167, Crusemann states that the Mishpatim of the Covenant Code are the Jerusalem Court’s legal code and contain some of the unjust decrees that Isaiah in the eighth century lambasted in Isaiah 10:1-4.  The Mishpatim presume debt slavery, allow fathers to sell their daughters, have marriage laws that could put people into permanent slavery (since a slave would have to stay with his master to keep his wife and children), and distinguish the free man with rights (the ish) from the slave.  But there is another part of the Covenant Code, the mercy law, which concerns compassion for the aliens.  This became an issue after 722, when Northern Israelites fled to Judah because the Assyrians devastated Northern Israel.

Theological Points from Kaiser

In this post, I’ll be talking about a few points in Otto Kaiser’s commentary on Isaiah 1-12.

1.  On pages 25-26, Kaiser talks about Isaiah 2, in which the nations of the earth come to Zion to learn God’s ways and God’s Torah.  Kaiser interprets the “Torah” here, “not merely [as] the legal ordinances given in the five books of Moses, but, in the same way as the ‘word of Yahweh’, also the words of God that at various times are uttered by priests and prophets” (page 27).  The nations are coming to Zion to hear from God—through God’s mediators.  Isaiah 2 says that these events will occur in the latter days—be-acharit.  According to Kaiser, this is not an apocalyptic concept about the end of human history, but it does refer to the “consummation of history.”  My impression is that the difference between apocalypticism and Isaiah 2 is that apocalypticism envisions the present creation being destroyed so that God can make a new heavens and a new earth, whereas Isaiah 2 presents God intervening in the present order and working events towards his own glory and the good of Israel and the nations.

But the term be-acharit intrigues me because I grew up in a denomination that emphasized prophecies about the “last days”—which were basically interpreted to be the Twentieth Century (and, now, the Twenty-First Century).  When Genesis 49 talked about events of the latter days, that was taken to refer to Israel (which the Armstrongs saw as the United States, Britain, countries in Europe, and the Jewish people) in the days soon before the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.  This was an important piece of evidence for “British Israelism”—the notion that the United States and Great Britain were tribes of Israel—for Genesis 49 presents Joseph as powerful, which fit the United States and Britain in the “latter days”.  But, when I looked at commentaries, I saw a different interpretation: that the prominence of Joseph concerned the power of the Northern Kingdom of Israel before its fall in 722 B.C.E.  In this scenario, be-acharit was interpreted to mean “days to come”, not “in the latter days”.  “Days to come” does not have to mean the time before the end, or the consummation of history.  As I look at the use of the term in the Hebrew Bible, I see it used in reference to such events as the restoration of Israel from exile, or the restoration of other nations (Elam).  I suppose that the prophets saw those sorts of events as eschatological—though the restoration itself, which we see in Ezra-Nehemiah—did not occur with a lot of fanfare.

On page 30, Kaiser states that Christians cannot accept Isaiah 2 as it is presented.  Whereas Isaiah 2 highlights the cult in Zion, Christians believe that God can be worshiped anywhere (John 4:19-24).  But Kaiser affirms that we can get an important point from this passage: “It testifies that if man is seized by the reality of God, he realizes that he is called not to violence and suffering, but to a peaceful and just life with other men, in which alone human life can be fulfilled.”  My impression from reading the New Testament is that some of the “eschatological” (if you will) parts of the prophets are held to be fulfilled in the church age (John 6:45; 7:38; maybe I Thessalonians 4:9), whereas other aspects are for the future.  Is this faithful to the original meaning of the prophets?  I don’t think so.  The prophets depict situations regarding Israel and the nations—so why does the New Testament come along and spiritualize those things?  But I do believe that an encounter with God should lead to at least some transformation in a person’s life: from violence and strife to love.  Does this work in my life?  I think I’m better with a relationship with God than without one.  But I wish I had more love and peace.

2.  On pages 65-66, Kaiser presents a vivid picture of social injustice in ancient Judah.  According to Kaiser, the foreign policy of King Uzziah of Judah brought money into the land—in the form of tribute and trade.  An upperclass developed, and it bought up one farmer after another.  The farmers could not “find a new living as traders”, and so they were “totally dependent upon large capitalists.”  Ownership was in the hands of a few people—in contrast with the vision in Leviticus 25, in which all Israelites had land.  Meanwhile, the nobility was drinking alcohol in the morning–putting themselves in a state in which they were “incapable of any serious work (cf. Eccles. 10.16; Acts 2:13-15″ (page 67).

3.  On page 127, Kaiser offers insight into the mindset of ancient times regarding the harvest: “For the people of that time, the harvest possessed a much more pointed significance than at the present day, where the food supply, at least in time of peace and in Europe, has become almost independent of the seasons.  Then, as for many people today in other parts of the world, it signifies the end of a long period of hunger.”  This, as well as other passages in Kaiser’s book, made me think about faith.  In Isaiah 7, Isaiah doesn’t want Ahaz to make alliances but rather to trust God’s election of the Davidic dynasty for the safety of his nation—an election that the king celebrated or commemorated.  People in search of guidance consulted the dead because they felt that the dead shared in the gods’ knowledge; God, however, wanted the Israelites to consult him.  People performed rituals regarding the death and resurrection of a god because their lives depended on the harvest; certain Yahwists, however, boldly proclaimed that the Israelites should trust and obey God for the harvest.

I admit that I have an arm-chair approach to religion and theology: I see all these views out there, and I don’t know what’s right.  But I’m not too worried about where my next meal is coming from.  Back then, people were told that their security depended on having the right religion.  Come to think of it, even people today are told that—which is why people try to live good lives to avoid pain and to prosper.  I don’t know if my prosperity depends on me having the right religion.  But I try to trust that there is a God who is loving.  I hope that he blesses me in my circumstances, but I also try to take comfort in the idea that he loves me, whatever my circumstances may be.

4.  On page 152, Kaiser states: “Whether the enemy attains his goal of conquering the capital, or whether he meets his end here, depends upon whether the people of Jerusalem at last honestly repent (cf. 31.6) and recognize that their help is from God and not from the cavalry of Egypt (cf. 30.16; 31.1-3).”  That was how I read First Isaiah when I did my weekly quiet time through Isaiah in 1999-2000: Will Judah trust in God’s protection of Judah and Jerusalem—and recognize that her security comes through a relationship with God—or will she trust in idols and alliances with foreign nations?  Fortunately, Hezekiah made the right decision, and Jerusalem was saved!

But this summary of First Isaiah runs into bumps.  For example, if Israel’s paradise was to come if she repented, then why didn’t it come?  If God’s judgment of Israel was to precede Israel becoming a paradise, as God rebuilt Israel on a holy remnant, as we see in parts of First Isaiah, then wouldn’t it have been better had Israel continued in sin rather than doing the right thing?

Conditionality can be a way to absolve Isaiah from being a false prophet: if his predictions don’t come true, then one can say this was because of Israel’s behavior, on which God’s activity is contingent.  But Kaiser states that Isaiah was sure that his predictions would come to pass—so sure that he named his son “a remnant shall return.”  Isaiah did not fear that people would look at his son and remember Isaiah making a false prophecy.  He was certain that a remnant would return, and so he named his son accordingly.  What room is there for conditionality, here?

Did a remnant return?  Some of Isaiah’s prophecies in Isaiah 7-8 came to pass.  The Syro-Phoenician alliance did collapse, and so Ahaz was not overthrown by it.  And, indeed, Assyria did wreak devastation on Judah.  I do not know if the people of Judah were reduced to nomads eating butter and honey—as Isaiah predicted in Isaiah 7.  But that may have happened.  Was there a remnant?  Yes, in the sense that Judahites (including Jerusalem) survived Assyria’s onslaught.  Isaiah 7:4, 31-32 mentions a remnant, and this was when Hezekiah was hoping that Jerusalem would survive Assyria’s invasion.  Isaiah’s prediction of a remnant came true.  But did that result in paradise?  No.  However, Kaiser’s point about interpolations is that Isaiah’s predictions were not believed to be limited to the time of Isaiah, for they applied to Israel since that time.  And, if the text was not clear on this, an interpolator added something to make it clear.

5.  Kaiser believes that Isaiah 1-12 is divinely inspired, on some level.  He even thinks that the Christian church fulfills some of the prophecies in the book.  But he also holds that Isaiah was limited in his insights.  As we saw yesterday, Kaiser dates the parts of Isaiah 1-12 about a widespread Diaspora to Israel’s Hellenistic Period, for such a Diaspora did not exist in Isaiah’s day.  Conservatives could respond that Isaiah—under divine inspiration—was able to see the future.  Fair enough.  But wouldn’t Isaiah also want to communicate with the audience of his own cultural context?  Would mentioning something that was not on any of their radars be good communication?

Kaiser on Interpolations to Isaiah

I finished Otto Kaiser’s commentary from the 1960′s on Isaiah 1-12.  My goal in this post is to address a question: Why does Kaiser attribute certain passages in the Book of Isaiah to Isaiah, but other passages to a later redactor or interpolator?  Tomorrow, I’ll get into cool points Kaiser makes that actually highlight the meaning of the text.

In Isaiah 1:2-9, there is a chastisement of Judah for her rebellion against the LORD, a remark about the desolation of the country and its cities, and an expression of wonder that God left survivors, thereby preventing Judah from becoming like Sodom and Gomorrah.  Kaiser thinks that this passage was placed in its prominent position within the book at a late stage in the Book of Isaiah’s formation.  The passage appears to be a summary in that “it seems to contain in a concise form the whole legacy of the prophet to posterity: it is only thanks to the grace of God that Israel has not wholly succumbed to the judgment which has threatened it time and time again since the days of Isaiah” (page 6).  My initial impression is that Kaiser is arguing that Isaiah 1:2-9 is late because it is retrospective and appears to be a summary of the prophet’s ministry and its outcome, but Kaiser then says that it is a “prophetic oracle belonging to a previous age” (page 6), indicating that a later scribe did not create it, but used it—meaning it was earlier.  Kaiser also states that the later scribe presents Isaiah 1:2-9 “as a valid interpretation of the situation in his own community, living in the expectation of the final judgment” (page 6).

On at least three occasions—on pages 19, 35-36, and 71—Kaiser attributes an oracle to the prophet Isaiah in the eighth century B.C.E. because it appears to present Judah in a state of security and prosperity.  The oracles on the capitalistic or political oppression of the poor (i.e., in Isaiah 10) are dated to the eighth century, as are the passages in which God tells Judah not to be so smug, for she will experience divine wrath.  I suppose that, in the exilic and the post-exilic periods, Judah was less smug, considering all that she had experienced.  But Kaiser affirms on page 35 that the eighth century was a time when Judah and Israel enlarged their territories and achieved “an increase in economic prosperity”.

In Isaiah 1:25-26, God promises that he will purify Jerusalem’s dross and later restore her judges and the city itself.  Then, vv 27-28 states that Zion and those in her who turn will be redeemed by justice and righteousness, but evildoers and those who forsake the LORD will be consumed.  Kaiser believes that vv 27-28 are exilic, and that these verses affirmed even in exile that “God’s promise and God’s threat are still in force” (page 21), meaning that the Jews should turn to god to be restored.  My problem with this is that v 27 says that “her turners”—Zion’s—will be redeemed in righteousness.  Are the exiles “her turners” when they do not even live in Zion?

Isaiah 2:2-5 describes the establishment of the house of the LORD, Gentiles going to Zion to learn God’s ways, and peace, as destructive objects of warfare are converted into tools for agriculture.  Kaiser thinks that Isaiah 2:2-5 was “interpolated in a later, probably post-exilic redaction, for the sake of [its] use in worship, so that the word spoken by the prophet in the past might be kept alive for the contemporary congregation” (page 23).  On pages 29-30, Kaiser explains more what he means.  He notes that Isaiah 2:2-5 comes before Isaiah’s prophecies of warning, and this indicates that “this congregation lacks everything which is promised here” (page 29).  Kaiser believes that Isaiah 2:2-5 was written down and “joined to the scrolls containing the genuine prophecies of Isaiah” in the post-exilic period, for the expectations of Isaiah 2:2-5 “exceed even those of [the exilic] Deutero-Isaiah” (page 19).  The message of Isaiah 2:5 (“let us walk in the light of the LORD”), according to Kaiser, is that the Judahites are to walk securely in the light of the LORD, unafraid of their enemies, the same way that one walks securely under the light of the sun.  The idea is that the Judahites should realize that they are still God’s people, even with the exile, and they should obey the will of God.  On page 25, however, Kaiser states that Isaiah 2:2-5 was used in pre-exilic worship.  He doesn’t believe that Isaiah or Micah (whose book has a similar oracle in Micah 4:1-4) wrote it, but that their books contain two versions of a common oracle.  Kaiser argues that Isaiah 2:2-5 does not mesh with the oracles of Isaiah that are authentic, for Isaiah 2:2-5 talks about “the battle between the nations” (page 25).

In Isaiah 3:1-9, there is a prophetic description of the desolation of Judah, followed by vv 10-11, which affirm that it is well with the righteous but ill with the wicked.  Kaiser states on page 40 that “In verses 9b-11, a later voice is heard in words which individualize the idea of judgment for pastoral purposes, whereas in the poem that comes from Isaiah himself, the anger of God ultimately falls upon the whole people (cf. 3.12; 5.13).”  For Kaiser, the individualistic nature of vv 10-11 does not mesh with Isaiah’s more communal focus.

In Isaiah 4:2-6, there is a prediction of restoration: that those left in Jerusalem will be called holy, and that the LORD will create a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night over Mount Zion after judgment has cleansed the filth and blood-guilt of Jerusalem.  Kaiser acknowledges that Isaiah himself had a sense of hope, which we see in Isaiah 7:3—where Isaiah’s own son is called Shear-Yashuv, “a remnant shall return.”  But Kaiser thinks that Isaiah 4:2-6 breaks the rhythm of the text—and my guess is that this is because 4:1 is negative, and then 4:2 has “in that day” followed by a positive prophecy.  The transition from negative to positive is not smooth, and so Isaiah 4:2-6 may have been inserted by a scribe who wanted to add a note of restoration.  Kaiser says that a pre-exilic date for Isaiah 4:2-6 is reasonable, for “Verse 3 assumes that the great and purifying judgment of God has not yet begun” (page 53).  But he opts for a post-exilic date—even as late as the third-early second centuries B.C.E.  The setting he envisions is that the post-exilic community has just experienced exile, and yet it does not consider itself to be all that holy, and so it envisions yet another judgment.  (At least that is my impression of what Kaiser is saying on page 54.)  And yet, Kaiser says on page 85 that things were added to Isaiah to comfort the post-exilic community—to encourage her (after the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy about the exile) that she is holy and that God’s promises will be fulfilled.

Isaiah 7:8-9 says that Damascus is the head of Aram and Rezin the head of Damascus—that Ephraim will be broken within 65 years and be without a people—and that Samaria is the head of Ephraim, and the son of Remaliah the head of Samaria.  Kaiser thinks that the part about Ephraim being broken and without a people is awkward in the text (in that it interrupts the text’s train of thought) and is thus an interpolation.  He believes that the interpolation refers to an event in 671 B.C.E., when “Esar-haddon settled a foreign ruling class in Samaria” (page 94)

I want to turn now to Kaiser’s argument that Assyria in certain (not all) parts of Isaiah is an allegory for the Seleucids in the third century B.C.E.  Kaiser makes this claim for the first time on pages 142-143.  He thinks that Isaiah 10:12 (which says that the LORD, after finishing his work on Mount Zion and in Jerusalem, will punish the arrogance of the king of Assyria) is an interpolation because it interrupts the king of Assyria’s boast, which picks right back up in v 13.  Although Kaiser appears to hold that Isaiah 10:5-15 is about Sargon, he says that v 12 is a “cryptic reference to the Seleucid rule” (page 143).  On pages 145-146, Kaiser argues that Isaiah 10:17 is about the Seleucids.  He says that v 17 does not fit into its context that well because, whereas v 16 posits a long death, v 17 says that the destruction will come in one day.  Kaiser states that someone inserted v 17 in order to affirm that God would destroy the contemporary oppressors of Israel—the Seleucids—as God overthrew Israel’s previous enemies, and this was to be “read in the course of worship” (page 146).  Why else would somebody add that little oracle of judgment?, Kaiser appears to wonder.  Regarding Isaiah 24:24-27a, Kaiser notes the references to other passages of Scripture (passages in Isaiah, the Exodus story, the Gideon story) and says that Isaiah 24:24-27a “breathes the atmosphere of a zealous study of the scripture” (page 149).  He maintains that the passage was designed to prepare a remnant in the congregation to endure God’s wrath—and he speculates that its setting was the time of the Seleucids, for whom the Assyrians became a “cryptic name.”

On page 164, Kaiser argues that Isaiah 11:10-16 is post-exilic.  It assumes a widespread Jewish diaspora, which was primarily true in the post-exilic period, especially during the time of the Diadachoi (although Kaiser acknowledges that the stage had been set for such a Diaspora since 722 for Northern Israel and 586 for Judah—and Joel 3:6 even mentions that the Philistines and Phoenicians sold people from Judah into slavery in Greek lands).  According to Kaiser, v 13 is about the Samaritan schism in the third century B.C.E..  For Kaiser, the references to God’s coming deliverance of Judah and her exiles from Egypt and Assyria concerns the Ptolemies (in Egypt) and the Seleucids (for whom Assyria is a code-name).  (Note: v 13 just says that Judah is oppressed, and Kaiser concludes that the oppressors are Egypt and Assyria.  But vv 11, 15-16 predict the return of the exiles from those two countries.)  Whereas Isaiah focused on those staying behind in Judah as the remnant (Isaiah 6:13; 7:3; 10:20-22), Isaiah 11:10-16 is conscious of Diaspora Judaism—and it appears to echo Second Isaiah’s prophecy of return from a foreign land (though I wonder how Kaiser would interpret the “return” part of Isaiah’s son, “a remnant shall return”); consequently, it is not Isaian but came after Isaiah.  And there is a prophecy about a second David—which would resonate in a time that lacked a Davidic monarch.

I want to note one more thing: Kaiser cites Isaiah 19:23f. on page 143, when he is talking about Assyria being an allegory for the Seleucids in certain passages.  That passage is about the joining of Israel with Assyria and Egypt in worship.  For Kaiser, is this about the unity of Jews—those in Palestine with those in the Diaspora?  Or is it saying that the Seleucids and the Ptolemies will worship the true God after God judges them?

A while back, I wrote about Niels Peter Lemche’s argument that Isaiah did not know about the Exodus, and that the references to the Exodus in First Isaiah are from a later hand.  I learned from Kaiser at least one scholarly rationale for that point of view.  I don’t know whether or not Kaiser thinks that Isaiah knows about the Exodus.  But he dates the references to the Exodus in Isaiah 1-12 to Israel’s post-exilic period.

Problems and Hope Before the Exile; Water

1.  In my reading today of Randall Heskett’s Messianism Within the Scriptural Scrolls of Isaiah, the following passage on page 47 stood out to me:

[Jacques] Vermeylen suggests that Isaiah 11:1-5, which depends upon the preceding oracles, comes from the second half of the seventh century and gives them a new interpretation…Isaiah 11:2-5 offers an antithetical response to the abuses imposed by the leaders of Judah (5:19-23) and Assyria (10:5, 13).  The new king who receives his wisdom from God is contrasted with the Assyrian’s false claim of wisdom (10:13).  The Assyrian oversteps his role as the rod of the Lord (10:5) but the figure in 11:1-5 will “strike the earth with the rod of his mouth: (10:4).

Could some form of Messianism have existed in Israel’s pre-exilic period?  Randall’s conception of Messianism answers in the negative, for he believes (if I’m understanding him correctly) that Messianism would speak to Israel when she lacked a Davidic monarchy, for Jewish Messianism was largely about the reconstitution of that very monarchy.

Fair enough.  But Israel had problems even before her exile.  Judah had bad Davidic kings, oppressive rulers, and threatening foreign powers.  In the midst of this, could she have hoped for a Davidic king who would be righteous, who would uphold the rights of the poor rather than oppress them, and who would preside over an era of international peace?

2.  In Judaism: The Evidence of the Mishnah, Jacob Neusner states (on page 106) that, according to rabbinic exegetes of Leviticus 11:34, 37-38, dry food “is not susceptible to uncleanness.”  It must be wet to be susceptible to uncleanness. 

I learned that a while back in my weekly quiet time on Leviticus, but it’s good to be reminded.  But I’m not sure why water is an impurity carrier. 

Comps: Mishnah for the Future?

Source: Ben Zion Wacholder, Messianism and Mishnah: Time and Place in the Early Halakhah (Hebrew Union College, 1978).

Wacholder’s thesis seems to be that many of the Mishnah’s laws were intended for the Messianic period, when the temple will be rebuilt. I have some questions about this:

1. According to Wacholder, there were rabbis who believed the Jubilee would apply to the Messianic period, not their own time. If that is the case, why did Hillel invent the prosbul to circumvent the cancellation of debts every seventh year? He seemed to believe that those kinds of land laws were still applicable and thus needed to be reckoned with.

2. According to Wacholder, “The most-holy sacrifices could be consumed only inside the curtains of the sanctuary, and these existed only in the Tabernacle and the First Temple and will exist again in the Messianic Temple” (32). If that is the case, why do the synoptic Gospels refer to the curtain of the temple being torn from top to bottom (Matthew 27:51; Mark 15:38; Luke 23:45)?

3. Wacholder says that, in the eyes of the Mishnah’s authors, capital punishment will exist in the Messianic period. This raises profound questions. Isaiah 11 says that the Davidic king of restored Israel will slay the wicked with the breath of his mouth. Yet, it also affirms that people will not hurt or destroy one another, since the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD.

Jeremiah 31 says God will write his laws on the hearts of the Israelites and Jews, meaning they won’t have to teach people to know God. At the same time, it also states that people in that time will be punished for their own sins, not the sins of their parents.

But why are people being punished period, if God’s law is on their hearts, meaning that they don’t sin? Are the prophets referring to the judgment that will precede or introduce the Messianic era?

Eschatological Inclusivism

Does God depend entirely upon Christians to accomplish his work? This question enters my mind a lot when I think about witnessing. When I was at Harvard, I was reading the Book of Isaiah for my weekly quiet time. Isaiah has a very universalist vision of eschatology–and “universalist” here doesn’t mean that he thinks everyone will be saved. Rather, it describes his conviction that people from many nations will worship the God of Israel after he restores his people to their land.

Isaiah was very inclusivist. So is Psalms. So are other books. When I read the Bible, one image of God that I encounter is one who cares for all of his creation. This God will create a situation in which everyone recognizes that he is God and receives an opportunity to worship him. In the prophets, that situation is usually the restoration of the Israelites to their land. In the days of the Hebrew Bible, people often evaluated the worth of a god according to the experiences of his nation. Within the ancient Near Eastern mindset, if a country lost a war, that could be a sign that its god wasn’t all that powerful. But if a country got restored, that said a lot about its god. Other nations then took notice!

The Bible speaks about numerous people worshipping the one true God, almost in cosmic terms. But so many human beings in God’s creation do not know God, according to the Christian concept of “knowing” him. At the present time, Christians do not make up the majority of the world’s population. This was especially evident to me at Harvard Divinity School, where I encountered Jews and Muslims and Buddhists and atheists and people who didn’t know what they were. And imagine going to a school in which Christians are actually a tiny minority. That’s what Jewish Theological Seminary was like!

There are people who believe that God is accomplishing his universal outreach through the church. Isaiah talks about the nations going to Jerusalem to learn about God (e.g., Isaiah 2). According to many Christians, God is currently fulfilling this vision through Christian missions. And there are proof-texts that back up this claim.

Acts 15:14-18 states: “Simeon has related how God first looked favorably on the Gentiles, to take from among them a people for his name. This agrees with the words of the prophets, as it is written, ‘After this I will return, and I will rebuild the dwelling of David, which has fallen; from its ruins I will rebuild it, and I will set it up, so that all other peoples may seek the Lord– even all the Gentiles over whom my name has been called. Thus says the Lord, who has been making these things known from long ago.’”

James is citing Amos 9:11-12, which (in the Greek) presents the usual prophetic scenario: God politically restores his people, then the nations come to Israel to worship him. But James says that this passage is being fulfilled in his time, despite Israel’s subjugation at the hands of the Romans. God has sent his Messiah, Jesus Christ, which fulfills the part about God rebuilding the dwelling of David. And the Gentiles are coming to God through his Messiah.

That’s how Luke/Acts seems to treat these types of prophecies, period. The Hebrew prophets focus on Jerusalem as an important place in the Gentiles’ reception of God. And, in Luke 24:47, Jesus says the Scriptures predict “that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.” For Luke’s Jesus, these prophecies are being fulfilled in the mission of the church, which proclaims Christ to all the world.

In Romans 15, Paul is encouraging Jewish and Gentile Christians to get along better. In vv 8-12, he offers a Scriptural basis for this: “For I tell you that Christ has become a servant of the circumcised on behalf of the truth of God in order that he might confirm the promises given to the patriarchs, and in order that the Gentiles might glorify God for his mercy. As it is written, ‘Therefore I will confess you among the Gentiles, and sing praises to your name’; and again he says, ‘Rejoice, O Gentiles, with his people’; and again, ‘Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles, and let all the peoples praise him’; and again Isaiah says, ‘The root of Jesse shall come, the one who rises to rule the Gentiles; in him the Gentiles shall hope.’”

Paul draws on inclusivist passages in the Psalms and the prophets to argue that the Gentiles’ inclusion in the church fulfills God’s plan. He specifically cites Isaiah 11:10, which occurs in the context of God restoring the Israelites from exile and establishing a reign of peace. For Paul, the part about the Gentiles coming to God was being fulfilled in his day.

My Armstrongite background always applied these prophetic passages to the future, as in after the second coming of Christ. At that time, Armstrongites argue, Christ will set up a worldwide kingdom and give everyone an opportunity to repent, even if they didn’t accept Jesus before their deaths. Right now, a lot of people don’t know which religion is the correct one. In that day, it will be obvious!

Personally, I think that the Armstrongite view is more consistent with the original intent of the Hebrew prophets, even though I don’t think they envisioned a “second resurrection” in which God would offer post-mortem salvation opportunities. In my opinion, they believed that God would tangibly demonstrate that he is the one true God, prompting even the pagan Gentiles to believe in his name. Missouri is the “Show me” state. Well, according to the Hebrew prophets, God would show the Gentiles that he is God.

In some sense, that happened in the first century C.E., for the church did signs and wonders that made the Gentiles open to the Gospel. The church wasn’t doing all of God’s work, for God was acting as well. When the Spirit made the Gentiles speak in tongues, that wasn’t Peter’s doing! Peter was as surprised by it as everyone else! Even in Acts, God is tangibly showing the Gentiles that he is God.

But is that occurring today? I don’t rule it out totally, for God still does miracles. Plus, I acknowledge that many people are turning from the power of darkness to the kingdom of light. But I still have problems asserting that the grand, inclusivist promises of the prophets are being fulfilled today through the mission of the church, especially when most people in the world do not believe in Christ, and Christianity appears to be just one option among many. And, yet, I cannot blow off the New Testament witness that the church is part of the fulfillment of those prophetic expectations.

At the same time, I don’t rule out that God will one day act in a way that brings many people to him. Revelation 11:13 says, “At that moment there was a great earthquake, and a tenth of the city fell; seven thousand people were killed in the earthquake, and the rest were terrified and gave glory to the God of heaven.” Revelation 15:4 has, “Lord, who will not fear and glorify your name? For you alone are holy. All nations will come and worship before you, for your judgments have been revealed.” God’s judgments will shake up a lot of people to recognize God and give him glory. There will come a time when God will rely on more than the church to get his point across!

And, in its own eschatological scenario, Revelation seems to echo the Hebrew prophets in that it envisions a place for the nations in God’s future paradise (21:24-26; 22:2). So can we rule out Isaiah 2 being future, just because the New Testament says that the church is fulfilling it? Perhaps not.

The Bible often presents God acting and the church joining him in what he is doing. That differs somewhat from how many present witnessing–as doing God’s work for him, or, more precisely, as being the sole means by which God does his work. But more on that next time!

Alister McGrath on Religious Pluralism

I finished More Than One Way? last night, while I was watching my Moses marathon. Today, I will touch on Alister McGrath’s essay.

McGrath basically argues that the religions are different, so we can’t affirm that they’re all saying the same thing. Ironically, I was reading this article while watching a 7th Heaven episode that touched on this issue. The episode I had on was about a Muslim family, which was struggling to find acceptance in the neighborhood. Ruthie was telling her little brothers, Sam and David, that Muslims believe in God. Sam and David then asked, “Well, if we all believe in God, then aren’t we the same?” The dog, Happy, then says “Rrrr,” as his ears perk up. I interpreted that to mean “Good point!” or “That’s something to think about!” (I’m an Aspie, but I can still read dogs.) But, anyway, I saw this whole exchange while I read McGrath state the following:

“It is perfectly possible for the Christian to engage in dialogue with non-Christians, whether of a religious persuasion or not, without in any way being committed to the intellectually shallow and paternalist view that ‘we’re all saying the same thing’” (158).

Coincidence? Who knows? It was a funny incident, though.

I don’t really care what Sam and David said, for their acting is rather stilted (although I was touched when they prayed for Simon at the end of one episode). But I have a hard time disagreeing with Happy. I love that dog! If only he were on more 7th Heaven episodes.

Here’s my reaction: We are all the same, in the sense that we’re people who need, want, and deserve love. But our beliefs are not necessarily the same, or even compatible in all areas. And, yet, there’s a lot of overlap. I agree with Hick that most religions have some sense of the transcendent, along with an ethical maxim of loving one’s neighbor.

But, even here, there can be nuance. I was thinking about this last night as I watched Cecil B. Demille’s Ten Commandments. Egyptian religion had ideas of love for the poor and oppressed. We see this in Egyptian literature, but even Pharaoh Sir Sethi Hardwicke said on the movie that he nourished the poor and the orphan. Yet, Egypt also had slaves and treated them like dirt. Cecil B. Demille talked about this at the beginning: “But each sought to do his own will, for he knew not the light of God’s law. The conquered were made to serve the conqueror. The weak were made to serve the strong.” There was an ethical sense even in Demille’s Egypt, so, contra Cecil, it didn’t completely lack the light of God’s law. But that ethical sense wasn’t consistently applied. The culture had blind spots! You can see that contradiction in probably every culture.

I got a kick out of one of McGrath’s statements: He said in opposition to Hick that different cultures have contrasting ideas of salvation. McGrath then refers to the “Rastafarian vision of a paradise in which blacks are served by menial whites” (171). I can detect some scorn in that reference. Christians, after all, believe in the equality of Jews and Gentiles, so it is obviously better than the racialist Rastafarian vision! And, yet, the Bible presents a vision that resembles the Rastafarian notion of paradise:

“[T]he house of Israel will possess the nations as male and female slaves in the LORD’s land; they will take captive those who were their captors, and rule over those who oppressed them” (Isaiah 14:2 NRSV).

This is my problem with McGrath: He says that different religions contradict one another and cannot be reconciled, but he ignores the diversity within the Bible itself. The New Testament presents an image of Jews and Gentiles being equal in God’s community. That was Paul’s whole point: He wanted the Gentiles to enter God’s Israel as Gentiles, without having to become Jews first (through circumcision and Torah observance). But not all of the Bible favors that sort of equality: Isaiah 14:2 presents the Gentiles as menial servants of Israel after her eschatological restoration.

Here are a few more points about McGrath:

1. He seems to know all sorts of people. He mentions Satanist acquaintances, for example. It’s good that he reaches out to all kinds and tries to understand their perspectives. I’m not as good as making friends, but, when I look back at my life, I realize that I’ve met all kinds of people–not Satanists, but people from other religions.

2. McGrath disputes the notion that God’s plan rests entirely on Christians. Often, in my experience as an evangelical, I felt as if people’s eternal destiny depended on me. I thought I needed to sell the Gospel–through good arguments, through being nice, through being impressive. But life is not that neat. Non-believers have arguments for their non-belief. Arguments such as “Jesus was Lord because he wasn’t a liar or a lunatic” do not silence non-believers, at least not in the real world (they might on evangelism videos!). Plus, should I feel guilty of sending people to hell just because I make a social faux pas? Ridiculous!

Yet, God does involve us in his plan. We shouldn’t kick back and expect him to do everything. We are participants in what he is doing. But we’re not generating every aspect of what he is doing, through our own strength, wisdom, and perfection.

I’ve always been familiar with questions on religious pluralism, but the issue really hit home for me when I was at Harvard. There, I encountered people from all sorts of religions. As I saw Jews with their yarmulkes in the Law School library, I thought to myself, “Are they going to hell?” Of course, I held fast to annihilationism, the idea that God will destroy the wicked rather than tormenting them forever and ever, but that didn’t make things better, at least not in my eyes. Does God have a plan for that Jewish person with the yarmulke? Or is his intention merely to burn him up? That Jewish person probably knows Christians, but is God’s plan for him solely based on what Christians do?

In those days, I was reading Isaiah, and the scenario that appeared throughout the book was as follows: God will restore Israel, the nations will be impressed with God’s power, and they’ll come to Jerusalem to worship God. God acts, and that draws the nations to God. Yet, Israel still participates in what God is doing: She follows God and becomes a holy society, one that is a model to the Gentile nations. How different is that from what we see today? Now, there are all sorts of religions, and no way to prove which one is right (in my opinion). How is God acting today to draw nations to himself? And what role do we play?

Joel 3: Where Is the Justice?

In M. Night Shyamalan’s Lady in the Water, Cleveland Heap wonders why this dog-like creature called a “scrunt” is getting away with murder. The scrunt is trying to prevent the sea-nymph Story from returning to her own world. He’s a renegade scrunt because he is not legally allowed to do so, and, ordinarily, these three bloodthirsty monkeys called the “Tartutic” maintain justice through sheer intimidation. Unfortunately, they are not enforcing the law at that time. So Cleveland Heap, the protagonist of the story, asks in a dramatic yet humble manner, “Where is the justice?”

Many people ask this about far worse situations (not that renegade scrunts aren’t a problem, at least in the movie). And it is obviously an ancient question, for it appears throughout the Bible. Biblical authors and characters often wonder why God does not punish evildoers but allows them to continue their destructive activity. The Psalmist tends to respond, “Just be patient. God will punish them soon.” The Book of Job appears to leave the question totally unanswered, as God elaborately tells Job about his human limitations. And the prophets project justice onto an eschatological event, in which God will dramatically intervene in history, restore Israel as a nation, destroy her enemies, and set up a new kingdom of righteousness, peace, and prosperity.

Joel 3 opts for the last approach: it projects justice onto an eschatological event. According to the chapter, after God restores Israel, he will judge Tyre and Zidon for selling Israelites into slavery, an act that removed them (the Israelites) quite a distance from their homes. God will punish Tyre and Zidon by turning them over to the Judeans, who in turn will sell them to the Sabeans, a far off people. God then goads Israel’s enemies into a battle, presumably so he can destroy them. “Beat your plowshares into swords, and your pruninghooks into spears,” God proclaims to the Gentiles. In the end, God destroys Israel’s notorious nemeses, Egypt and Edom.

Why do I fail to completely identify with this chapter, or a lot of the Bible, for that matter? I think the reason is that I have no enemies who are deliberately out to destroy me. “Well, wait till you’ve lived long enough,” I can hear people telling me. Fair enough. But, up to this point in my life, I can’t think of anyone who has actually tried to ruin my life.

Don’t get me wrong. I have been hurt in the past. But, most of the time, my hurts are a result of my frustration at not being socially accepted. Indeed, there are many times when I say to God, “Look, I try my best to be nice, and these jerks do not accept me.” And maybe there is a part of me that wants God to punish them. But, in the end, I do not wish that they were dead. I just wish that they accepted me. And, while I may be angry at them, I do not put them in the same category as a rich noble who’s seeking to exploit society’s most vulnerable (the type of person the Bible condemns). My “enemies” can’t help whom they like or dislike, anymore than I can. So a part of me would like for them to be hurt, and a part of me would not.

But there are many people in the world who desperately thirst for justice, who seek some indication that an authority cares enough about their pain to punish the people who caused it. And that is the feeling that Joel 3 addresses. “Those foreigners sold us into slavery!” I can picture the Israelites saying. “Does anyone care? I want them to feel just as bad as I did when I was taken from my home.”

Most of the Bible has this “What goes around comes around” sort of theme, but one of the prophets adds mercy into the equation. First Isaiah discusses God’s wrath against the nations, but it also contains a beautiful passage, Isaiah 19:22-25:

“The LORD will strike Egypt, striking and healing; they will return to the LORD, and he will listen to their supplications and heal them. On that day there will be a highway from Egypt to Assyria, and the Assyrian will come into Egypt, and the Egyptian into Assyria, and the Egyptians will worship with the Assyrians. On that day Israel will be the third with Egypt and Assyria, a blessing in the midst of the earth, whom the LORD of hosts has blessed, saying, ‘Blessed be Egypt my people, and Assyria the work of my hands, and Israel my heritage’” (NRSV).

Imagine that! There is Egypt, the nation that placed Israel into captivity and ditched her when she needed military assistance. There is Assyria, the notoriously bloodthirsty power that defeated Northern Israel and decimated much of Judah. Joel presents the destruction of Egypt and other enemies to Israel, but Isaiah offers a different picture. For Isaiah, Egypt and Assyria get their punishment, sure, but then they come together with Israel to worship the true God. And God essentially says, “Welcome home,” even as he affirms their value in his sight.

Isaiah must have had a lot of strength to write this vision. Jonah certainly couldn’t stomach the possibility that God might have mercy on the savage Assyrians, so he fled from his mission. “The world would be better off without them!” he probably thought. But Isaiah dared to value Israel’s enemies as people, even though he too saw the pain that they had inflicted.

I saw a good episode of Touched by an Angel recently. For a second, I thought I was watching a Dallas/Knots Landing reunion, since it had Joan Van Ark and the lady who played Rebecca Wentworth, the mom of Pam Ewing and Cliff Barnes. But, anyway, there was a scene in which a son was talking to his dying father. The father had continually stuck with his wife despite her bossiness and infidelity, and he chose to love her and the daughter she had through an affair. The son told his dad that he always saw this as a sign of weakness. And that attitude was playing itself out in the son’s own life, for he was about to leave his spouse. Then, the son realized (at the coaxing of Andrew, the angel of death) that his father was actually the strong one, since he chose to love in spite of his hurt.

On a certain level, I can sympathize with both voices of the biblical tradition: justice and mercy. And I say this with the disclaimer that I’ve never experienced the level of pain that Israel endured at the hands of her oppressors. People who are wronged want some acknowledgment of their pain, and they don’t want the victimizer to get off scott free. And Isaiah recognized the value of justice, since he could be as graphic about God’s wrath as the rest of the prophets. But Isaiah also dared to ask, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were all friends?” That’s like what I was saying above about my own attitude: I don’t necessarily want my enemies to suffer. I just wish that they accepted and respected me.

But things don’t always work that way in the real world. In the same way that the prophets project justice onto an eschatological era, Isaiah projects reconciliation. But, hopefully, Isaiah’s vision can inspire us to value people the way that God does, even as Joel reminds us of the importance of justice.