"Spinning" the Bible
by James A. Sanders
Most people think that
the Old Testament and the Hebrew Bible are two names for the same thing.
Actually, they are quite different, as I shall show--even though all of
the books of the Hebrew Bible are indeed included in the Old Testament:
Protestant Bibles contain all the same books as the Hebrew Bible; Roman
Catholic Bibles have several additional books as well. Structurally,
however, the two collections--the Old Testament and the Hebrew Bible--are
by no means the same. The difference in the order of the books gives each
collection its own powerful yet divergent
message. Before getting into the
details, however, I must tell you that I don't like to use the term Old
Testament when speaking of the books of the Hebrew Bible that are included
in Christian Scriptures. "Old Testament" seems to imply something outmoded
or superseded by the New Testament. So for many years, I have referred to
these two collections of ancient books as the First Testament and the
Second Testament. Recently other scholars have begun to adopt this
nomenclature. Perhaps someday it may catch on more
widely. My reason for avoiding the term
Old Testament relates to the history of how the two Testaments came to be
canonized as Christian Scriptures. In
the late fourth century, when the church father Jerome translated
Christian Scriptures into Latin (the "vulgar" or widespread language of
the day, hence the name Vulgate for his translation), he used Hebrew texts
available to him in Bethlehem, where he was studying with a local rabbi.
Jerome wanted to translate the books of the Jewish canon directly from
Hebrew into Latin. Even earlier, when
Latin was gradually replacing Greek in the western churches, Latin Bible
translations had been made from old Greek translations commonly called the
Septuagint. The Septuagint (often abbreviated LXX) had been translated
from Hebrew in pre-Christian times in Alexandria, Egypt, where a sizable
Jewish community had lived for centuries.* These early Latin
translations were thus translations of translations. These texts are
commonly called the Vetus Latina, or Old Latin (abbreviated OL). In 382 Pope Damasus commissioned
Jerome to produce an authoritative Latin Bible that would eventually
replace the Septuagint and the Old Latin. For those books included in the
Christian First Testament but not in the Jewish canon--commonly called
deuterocanonical (meaning secondary canon) by Catholics and apocryphal by
Protestants--Jerome used both the Septuagint and the Old Latin as the base
of his new work. But for those books
that were included in the Jewish canon, Jerome adhered to a principle
called Hebraica Veritas, the true Hebrew text. His devotion to
Hebraica Veritas was based on what he perceived as an advantage in
the ongoing debates between Jews and Christians over crucial differences
in interpretation of Scripture. Jerome wanted the text of the original
Hebrew forms of the First Testament to be available to
Christians. Jerome placed those books
that were not in the Jewish canon in a separate, deuterocanonical section
of the Vulgate. He called the longer LXX portions of Esther and Daniel not
found in the Jewish versions of those books Addenda ad Esther and Addenda
ad Daniel. The reason most Protestants today have only the books of the
Jewish canon in their First Testament is that Martin Luther, in the 16th
century, agreed with Jerome. Luther placed the deuterocanonical books,
which he called the Apocrypha, and which included the "additions" to
Esther and Daniel, in a separate section. The Catholic Church never took
this step.
The Christian Canon But this
does not explain how Christianity came to adopt the books of the Jewish
Bible as part of its own canon. In the late second century, a dispute
arose among Christians over what books should be considered authoritative,
or canonical. Due largely to the acerbic character of the debate between
Christians and Jews over the interpretation of passages in Jewish
Scripture crucial to Christian beliefs, a certain Marcion contended that
only the Gospel of Luke and some letters of Paul should be included.
Marcion held that Christians should not include any of the Jewish canon in
their Bible. Marcion's position was soon rejected. But the impetus among
Christians to retain the Jewish Scriptures as part of the Christian Bible
and to create a double-testament Bible, in reaction to Marcion and others
like him, advanced the growing Christian conviction in the second and
third centuries that Christianity had superseded Judaism as God's true
Israel.1 Keeping the Jewish
Scriptures as part of the double-testament Bible was anything but
pro-Jewish in terms of these ongoing debates between Christians and Jews
over exegesis of the First Testament--or in terms of the ongoing debates
within Christianity between Jewish and gentile
Christianity. Jerome argued that the
churches should have a translation directly from the Hebrew. In this
respect his view was much the same as that of the Alexandrian theologian
Origen. A century earlier, in his Hexapla, Origen had set the Hebrew text
of the Jewish Scriptures alongside the various Greek translations. But
neither Jerome nor Origen acted out of sympathy or respect for Jewish
readings of Scripture. By declaring the Hebrew text of the Jewish
Scriptures authoritative, Origen and Jerome were countering Jewish
arguments outside the church as well as pro-Jewish or Judaizing arguments
within it. Christianity had started out as a hellenized form of Judaism
but had become increasingly Greco-Roman in thought and expression as
churches moved westward. Struggles between Jewish and Greco-Roman strains
of Christians developed early and continued well into the second and third
centuries. The upshot was the growing conviction by both groups of
Christians that Christianity had superseded Judaism and become God's true
Israel. The double-testament Bible underscored this conviction;
jettisoning the First Testament would have eventually eliminated both the
debate and the force of the conviction. This history may help explain why
I prefer to use the terms First Testament and Second Testament.
Comparing the Hebrew Bible and the Old
Testament Let's return to the
difference between the Old Testament (as I shall still call it when I am
speaking of what the church called--and still calls--this collection) and
the Jewish Scriptures, or Hebrew Bible. Structurally they are quite
different; they are in fact different canons. The received Jewish canon,
the Tanach, as the Hebrew Bible is called, is tripartite in structure,
while the received canon of the First Christian Testament is quadripartite
in structure. The structure of each dictates the interpretive lens (or
hermeneutic) through which each is read in the respective believing
communities. This is most evident--and most poignant--in the Protestant
canon of the Old Testament as compared to the Tanach because, as noted
earlier, they both have the same Hebrew text base. Despite their having
the same text base and the same contents, however, the Protestant First
Testament and the Tanach convey quite different messages precisely because
of their different structures. And all the other Christian canons are
basically the same as the Protestant
structure. The three parts of the Hebrew
Bible are (1) the Torah (the Pentateuch, or Five Books of Moses); (2) the
Prophets, which is divided into the Former Prophets (actually historical
books--Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings) and the Latter Prophets (the
literary prophets--Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel--and the Book of the
Twelve--the minor prophets); and (3) the Writings. The Hebrew term
"Tanach" is actually an acronym formed from the first letter of the Hebrew
words for these three divisions (Torah, Nevi'im and Ketuvim--that is,
Pentateuch, Prophets and Writings). The
quadripartite First Testament includes (1) the Pentateuch, with the same
five books as the Hebrew Bible, in the same order; (2) the historical
books, including the Former Prophets of the Hebrew Bible followed by the
historical books found in the Writings; (3) the rest of the Writings; and
(4) the Literary Prophets (Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel and the
Twelve). A major difference between the
Jewish and Christian canons is the position of the Latter
Prophets--Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and the Twelve. As we will see, this
results in a significant difference in interpretation. A second major
difference between the two canons relates to the tendency in the Christian
canon to lengthen the story line, or history, that begins in Genesis. In
the Jewish canon the story that starts in Genesis ends at the close of 2
Kings with the defeat of the kingdoms of Israel and Judah at the hands of
the Assyrians and the Babylonians, respectively. The Jews are now exiled
from their land. In the Christian First
Testament, Ruth is treated as a historical book and is inserted after the
Book of Judges and before the Books of Samuel. And the history does not
end with the Books of Kings. In the First Testament, Kings is followed by
Chronicles, Ezra-Nehemiah and Esther, and in Catholic and Orthodox Bibles
by Judith, Tobit and the Maccabees as
well. Each of these major differences in
structure makes a clear statement of its own.
The Placement of the Prophets
In the Jewish canon, the Latter Prophets (Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and
the Twelve) come immediately after the historical narrative to explain the
risings and fallings, the victories and defeats, the weal and the woe that
had happened since God's promise to make the descendants of Abraham and
Sarah a great nation (Genesis 12:1-7). The venture began with this
promise, which was completely fulfilled in the time of Solomon (1 Kings
10) but had clearly failed by the end of Kings. In the tripartite Jewish
canon, the Prophets play the crucial role of explaining the uses of
adversity in the hands of One God. In
the quadripartite Christian canon, the Prophetic corpus comes last, after
(1) the Pentateuch, (2) the historical books, and (3) the wisdom books, or
Writings. Only then do we read (4) the Prophets. Moreover, the Book of
Daniel, which is in the Writings in the Jewish canon, is in the Prophets
in the Christian canon (between Ezekiel and the
Twelve). The function of the Prophets in
the Christian canon is not so much to explain God's uses of adversity as
to point to Jesus Christ. Although the words of the Prophets, even in the
Septuagint text, are broadly the same, the intertextual structure conveys
quite a different hermeneutic; it is this hermeneutic which determines how
the text is read by believers.
Two Divergent Histories Not
only is the prophetic corpus placed last in the Christian canon (in order
to point to the Gospel of Jesus Christ), the second, historical section
provides the churches with a story line that begins with the Creation and
extends far enough through history so that the Gospels and Acts (the
Christian sacred history) could be appended to that long-established
history. This structure supported the developing Christian argument that
the God of Creation was the God incarnate in Jesus Christ, the same God
who had abandoned the old ethnic Israel and adopted the new universal
Israel in Jesus Christ and the Church. In this sense, the placement of the
Prophets at the end of the Christian canon not only pointed to God's work
in Jesus Christ and the church, it also supported the Christian argument,
current at the time the canon was being formed, that God had rejected the
old Israel in favor of Christ and the church, God's New
Israel. By contrast, the third section
of the Jewish Tanach, the Writings, made an entirely different kind of
statement. The Writings (Ketuvim) served well a Judaism that was
retreating from the rest of the world after three disastrous defeats at
the hands of Rome in Palestine alone: the War of Varus, after the death of
Herod in 4 B.C.E.; the Jewish War (66-70 C.E.), which effectively ended
with the destruction of the Temple and the burning of Jerusalem (although
the Zealots on Masada held out until 73 C.E.); and the Bar-Kokhba Revolt
(132-135 C.E.), which ended in utter disaster for Palestinian
Judaism. Various parts of the Writings
reflect on past history, including Daniel and his friends in the royal
court of long ago Babylon. This placement of Daniel in the Writings of the
Jewish canon provided an entirely different hermeneutic by which to read
and reflect on the text. In the Jewish canon, Daniel serves as a lesson to
all Jews living in foreign, hostile environments. The book encourages them
to refuse to abandon belief in God, even if they must suffer unbearable
punishment for doing so, because God is in charge of all history. Placed
among the Prophets in the Christian canon, however, the later chapters of
Daniel dominate the whole book, which was read instead as a visionary
foretelling of God's interventions to bring about the end of
history. In the Jewish canon, the
Writings, even with their many reflections on past history, supported the
movement of surviving rabbinic Judaism to depart from history in order to
live in closed communities where they could pursue lives of obedience and
service to a God who had come to seem remote and ineffable. Undoubtedly,
one reason for the rapid spread of Christianity was its contrasting
message that God had just been sighted walking the hills of
Galilee. The Greek translation known as
the Septuagint was originally made for the Jews in Alexandria but later
became the basis of the Christian Old Testament. I wonder how the Greek
translations of the Jewish Scriptures developed in areas outside Christian
control and transmission. Unfortunately, all the codices of Greek
translations like the Septuagint come to us from ancient Christian
communities, precisely from the time when the Jewish-Christian debates
were most acerbic and when the debates within the church between
pro-Jewish and pro-gentile understandings of Christianity most influenced
emerging normative Christianity. These Christian codices show differing
orders of the books. Perhaps even in Jewish circles there was a tendency
to pull all the so-called historical books into a lengthened story line.
Doing so might have been in the interest of pre-Christian Judaism in its
ongoing dialogue with Greco-Roman culture, bolstering its image as a
people with a long and worthy history that compared well with the Greek
epics of Hesiod and Homer. If that indeed occurred, the Christian canon of
the Old Testament would already have had a start in the direction it would
eventually take in this regard and could easily have been adapted and
resignified for Christian purposes. But unfortunately this is only
speculation and cannot be demonstrated one way or the
other. We would very much like to know
when Judaism adopted its tripartite division and Christianity its
quadripartite division. But the evidence is unclear.
The Formation of the Jewish
Canon Until about 30 years ago there
was a widely accepted view of the formation of the Jewish tripartite
canon: The Pentateuch had become canon by about 400 B.C.E. and the
Prophets (Former and Latter) by 200 B.C.E., but the Writings were not
explicitly canonized until a rabbinic council convened at Yavneh (Jamnia)
after the fall of Jerusalem in 70 C.E. and before the Bar-Kokhba Revolt in
132-135 C.E. In 1964, however, Jack P. Lewis published a study that
investigated all the passages in rabbinic literature mentioning the
gathering of the rabbis at Yavneh.2
He found little or no support for the idea that this assembly was a
canonizing council. Lewis showed that the notion of a canonizing council
in Judaism at such an early date had been read into the passages where
Yavneh is mentioned. Lewis's work has been almost universally accepted as
a needed corrective. While it remains
uncertain exactly when the Jewish canon became specifically tripartite and
the Christian quadripartite, it seems clear that the basic structure, if
not the text itself, of the Torah and the Prophets was relatively stable
as Jewish Scripture by the end of the fifth century B.C.E., while the
Writings did not become so until Judaism cut itself off from the world, so
to speak, to live in stasis as scattered rabbinic communities some
time after the Bar-Kokhba Revolt.3
The Dead Sea Scrolls At this
point, it is necessary to introduce the evidence from Qumran--the Dead Sea
Scrolls--to see what part these texts play in our conclusions and to
determine the limits of this
evidence. Even though more than 200
different biblical manuscripts (almost all extremely fragmentary) have
been recovered from the Qumran caves, these texts tell us next to nothing
about the order of the books. The codex--what we would call a book, as
opposed to a scroll--did not come into widespread use until the late
second century in Christianity, and as late as the sixth century in
Judaism. (In synagogue worship, Jews still read from scrolls.) The
biblical manuscripts from Qumran are all scrolls. They contain only single
books, except for the Book of the Twelve Minor Prophets, so we can learn
nothing from them about the order of the
books. But a canon involves not only a
list of books in a certain order, but also the authority of the texts
within a believing community. A text may be authoritative even before it
is stabilized; indeed it may be authoritative even before it is written
down, when it is still part of an oral tradition. In these terms the
Qumran corpus has much to tell us. Here I will limit myself to three
observations. (1) As late as the first
century C.E., what books were authoritative (or canonical) remained an
open question even though the books of the Torah and the Prophets were
clearly included. (2) The texts remained
relatively fluid even though they may have been considered
canonical. (3) Because Judaism was so
multifarious at the time, different Jewish groups considered different
texts authoritative. The Temple Scroll
(or Torah Scroll) published by the late Israeli archaeologist Yigael Yadin
is only one text that may or may not have been canonical for the Qumran
sectarians--and possibly for other Jewish groups.4 Yadin considered this matter in his
editio princeps, but neither he nor any later scholar has arrived
at a clear answer. One of the striking
characteristics of even nonbiblical texts from Qumran literature is
actually typical of Jewish literature of the period generally: It is
markedly scriptural in composition. That is, when new literature was being
conceived, it was written in scriptural terms and rhythms. My teacher at
Hebrew Union College, the late Samuel Sandmel, often remarked that Torah
is Judaism and Judaism is Torah and until one comes to terms with that
observation one cannot grasp what Judaism is about. Sandmel meant Torah in
the broad sense of Torah and all traditions that flow from it. Jewish
literature was written scripturally. At
the same time, there was considerable room for variations in texts. In
short, Scripture at that time was still in a stage of limited fluidity.
Scribes and translators were free to make Scripture comprehensible to the
communities they served. This has always been true of tradents of
Scripture. I pause to define tradents.
This is both necessary and important because it is a word used by scholars
in connection with biblical textual criticism, but it is not found even in
unabridged dictionaries. It refers to someone who studies or preserves
tradition. The old term for such a person was traditionist, but this was
too often confused with traditionalist, that is, one who wants to make the
present look like the past. Tradents, on the other hand, examine and
process traditions for their own time. Thus, all scribes, translators,
commentators, midrashists and even preachers are
tradents. It is now clear that all
tradents of Scripture have had two responsibilities--to the text and to
their community, that is, to the community's past and to its present. A
tradent inevitably brings the past into the present in contemporary
terms. The tradents who produced the
Qumran texts were still working in a time of at least limited textual
fluidity--as evidenced by the variations among the Qumran biblical
scrolls. This contrasts with scrolls from the period after the Roman
destruction of the Temple in 70 C.E. These later texts, a number of which
have been found in wadis (dried riverbeds) south of Qumran and at Masada,
show considerably less fluidity. A
picture is beginning to emerge in which earlier biblical texts were
relatively fluid, while texts dating after the first century C.E. were
relatively, and amazingly, stable and markedly proto-Masoretic (the
Masoretic text is the textus receptus of the Jewish Bible). During
the first century C.E., there was a distinct move from a limited fluidity
in treatment of Scripture to rather marked stability. (A similar shift
from relative fluidity to relative stability took place in Second
Testament manuscripts in the early fourth century C.E., when Christianity
emerged as a dominant cultural factor in the Roman Empire.)5 One
example will illustrate the limited fluidity of Scripture during the
Qumran period. The large Psalms Scroll from Qumran Cave 11, which I
unrolled and edited, has non-Masoretic compositions in it. And the order
of the psalms in the last third of the Psalter differs from that in the
Masoretic text. The Psalter, like the Writings, must have been open-ended
in the first century C.E.6
Multiple Judaisms One of the
most important things the scrolls have taught us is that early Judaism was
pluralistic; that is, the Judaism that existed before the end of the first
century C.E., before surviving Pharisaism evolved into what we call
rabbinic Judaism, came in a variety of modes.7 This is so much the case that Professors
Jacob Neusner and Bruce Chilton speak of the "Judaisms" of the period, and
they refer to the early Christian movement as a new Judaism.8 Prior to the discovery of the scrolls, a
thesis by George Foot Moore held sway. He proposed that there was a
normative Judaism, which found expression in Pharisaism, and that over
against it was heterodox Judaism, which produced what we call the
Apocrypha and the Pseudepigrapha.9
Moore's view no longer holds. The
scrolls have taught us that significant numbers of Jewish groups disagreed
with the Pharisaic/rabbinic position that prophecy or revelation had
ceased in the time of Ezra and Nehemiah. The Qumran sectarians were one
such group. The nascent Christians were another. That perhaps explains why
rabbinic Judaism, in contrast to the Qumran community, has not illuminated
the origins of Christianity as much as some would like. The Qumran
community shows us a Jewish sect that believed, as Christianity also does,
that revelation had not ceased but that God was continuing to reveal God's
will to God's people.10 Likewise,
the scrolls tell us that the Qumran leader, the Teacher of Righteousness,
possessed the true raz (mystery/revelation) with which to interpret
Scripture, just as Paul claimed an equivalent God-given mysterion
(Romans 11:25, 16:25; 1 Corinthians 2:1, 4:1) and Matthew claimed to have
special training that allowed him to bring out of Scripture what he called
"treasure" (Matthew 13:52) and what Luke called the kleis, or
"key," to understanding Scripture (Luke 15:2). Both the Qumran sect and
Christianity claimed that they lived at or near the end-time, and both
shared a common hermeneutic whereby to understand Scripture: (1) Scripture
spoke to the end-time; (2) they lived at the end of time; and (3)
therefore Scripture spoke directly to them through special
revelation.11 This is the same basic
hermeneutic by which eschatologists and apocalypticists read Scripture
even today. Rabbinic Judaism, as it
developed after the destruction of the Jerusalem Temple, proceeded quite
differently. The Writings provided surviving rabbinic Judaism with the
scriptural basis to affirm that God had already departed from history and
become remote and that revelation had ceased already at the time of Ezra
and Nehemiah. This view would explain the disastrous defeat of Bar-Kokhba
(despite Rabbi Akiba's messianic claims for him) and would also explain
the need to close ranks around the basic concept of rabbinic Judaism: A
Jew was called to the service of God, and rabbinic Judaism was the correct
way to express that service
('avodah). Until the true Messiah
came, all speculation or "prophecy" about what God would do next was
essentially non-Jewish. Halakhah (religious law, or walking the way
of God's Torah) was now the essence of Judaism. |