On the Biblical Canon

What Books do you call Sacred Scripture?

Following the rule of the Catholic Church, we call Sacred Scripture all those which Cyril [Lucar] collected from the Synod of Laodicea, and enumerated, adding thereto those which he foolishly, and ignorantly, or rather maliciously called Apocrypha; to wit, “The Wisdom of Solomon,” “Judith,” “Tobit,” “The History of the Dragon,” “The History of Susanna,” “The Maccabees,” and “The Wisdom of Sirach.” For we judge these also to be with the other genuine Books of Divine Scripture genuine parts of Scripture. For ancient custom, or rather the Catholic Church, which hath delivered to us as genuine the Sacred Gospels and the other Books of Scripture, hath undoubtedly delivered these also as parts of Scripture, and the denial of these is the rejection of those. And if, perhaps, it seemeth that not always have all been by all reckoned with the others, yet nevertheless these also have been counted and reckoned with the rest of Scripture, as well by Synods, as by how many of the most ancient and eminent Theologians of the Catholic Church; all of which we also judge to be Canonical Books, and confess them to be Sacred Scripture.

From The Confession of Dositheus, available in full here

Patriarch Dositheus of Jerusalem wrote the Confession in 1672 as part of a local Synod of Jerusalem. It is a point by point response to the Confession attributed to Cyril Lucaris, erstwhile Patriarch of Constantinople, which appeared in Latin in Geneva in 1629, but which the Synod of Jerusalem, in comparing Cyril’s other writings, determined was a forgery. (Almost certainly, however, they erred in this determination; Cyril was educated in Geneva and likely found Reformed opinion on the Apocrypha probative.) One of Cyril’s answered questions was on the biblical canon. Here, Patriarch Dositheus gives a short but pithy answer. He does not apportion the “extra” books to a separate, second-class body of Scripture, whether “deuterocanonical” or “Apocrypha,” but maintains an older opinion founded in patristic and Conciliar sources. (It should be noted that the term “Apocrypha” in Byzantine times had developed a connotation of “spurious and heretical,” a connotation that persisted into later Greek Christian usage.)

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Zondervan Archaeological Study Bible

Well, I got one. Now that Chris Heard is famous, no doubt he’ll roll his eyes behind his oversized sunglasses, and over his soy iced mochaccino no whip with a splash of crème de menthe. Yet, I jest, with such serious work ahead of us.

Chris was entirely spot on, of course, in his review of the preview materials for this new Bible. And that’s good for Chris, and for those of us who share his opinion, but it’s bad for readers of this Zondervan NIV Archaeological Study Bible. Here’s why.

First let me say the good I can say about this Bible. The presentation is beautiful. It has definitely benefitted from modern advances in printing technology. Every page has some color on it, a kind of faint sepia background and header at the very least. The paper (thin but opaque) and printing are of such excellent quality that the full-color photos are crisp on the pages and do not bleed through. The maps are the only glossy pages, with all the rest of the paper being non-glossy, which is what makes the quality of the printing so striking. It very likely heralds a new direction in Bible presentation. They’ve also chosen the single-column presentation of the NIV text, which is quite nice, despite the choice of a slightly cramped font. There are numerous short and some longer excerpts from other ancient literatures scattered throughout, which is quite nice, though the potential for such was insufficiently explored. There are numerous high-quality photographs of artifacts and so on scattered in roughly 500 inserts throughout the entire Bible (which they call “articles”).

Now to the basket of prunes . . . .

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The Four-Letter Word

For many people, there seems to be no hesitation in spelling out and regularly using the Tetragrammaton. I’m not one of those. Perhaps it’s because the people that taught me Hebrew (Biblical, post-Biblical, and Modern Israeli) were Jewish that I’m entirely uncomfortable with pronouncing the currently favored scholarly reconstruction of this name. When reading the Hebrew Bible we always vocalized what the Masoretic Text was pointed to indicate, אדני or אלהים as the case may be. Anyhow, I just thought I’d explain, if anyone in fact had even noticed that I avoid this, or may, in a pinch resort to Y” in place of simply LORD or Lord or God, though I think I’ve only rarely used even that.

There are other reasons, too. Socially, I’m not on first name terms with God. Nor am I so with my father or my mother or any number of others whom I love and/or respect. That does it for me. The rest is icing on the cake.

Religiously, I find using that pronunciation suspect. It’s not part of any religious tradition carried down through the millennia. The Judaic tradition abandoned its pronunciation long ago. The Christian tradition never used it, though it was a curiosity, apparently. Had the syncretistic Hermetic magical tradition survived late antiquity, there might be a living connection there to a garbled version of it, but it was garbled and that tradition died out anyway. It’s a new thing in that sense, and its usage is no more necessary or required or necessarily correct than the use of the simplistically concocted “Jehovah.” The “Sacred Names” people can be all over it, with their syrupy CDs and ghastly Tshirts and coffee mugs and whatnot, in fonts with appropriatly Hebrewish-looking English letters (Lord. Have. Mercy!) but that doesn’t make it authentic. To me it just seems really, really wrong to be bandying about this name as though it’s some kind of proof or trophy badge of your authenticity when it’s not an authentic part of any tradition at all. It’s a scholarly reconstruction, utterly devoid of any traditional religious value.

I have some basic scholarly reservations, too, though they’re not so viscreally felt as my reaction to a tacky Tshirt sporting the supposed only name of God. It would be one matter if the pronunciation were preserved there in the Masoretic Text, but it’s not. Therefore, it’s another matter: that of taking the word of patristic Christian writers (who didn’t know Hebrew!) on Hebrew pronunciation. Aside from Origen and Jerome, apparently none of them, including Clement of Alexandria, Theodoret of Cyrrhus, and Epiphanius of Salamis, our star witnesses to the ancient pronunciation of the Tetragrammaton, knew Hebrew. Certainly the scribes doing the transmitting of the Greek texts of these fathers didn’t know Hebrew, and we can’t be certain that, textually speaking, these readings which we think are accurate indicators of ancient Hebrew are really such. So that’s the “traditional” pronunciation in a nutshell, based on writings from 100-200 years after the name had ceased to be pronounced by anyone, anywhere (with the date for its last pronunciation being the last celebrated Day of Atonement in the Jerusalem Temple in 66? AD). Yet with that in hand, it’s possible to back this up with data from the Masoretic Text, particularly other words ending with יה-, and some other hints, as described in HALOT. But that could also be a wild goose chase. I don’t think that’s necessarily the case, but it’s certainly possible. It’s a personal name, after all, not an actual verb or noun. How certain were scholars with “Jehovah”? It was also the unquestioned darling of the ink-stained for a time. One must avoid the apparently dogmatic representation of the currently favored pronunciation of the Tetragrammaton among scholars as being either probative or truly authentic, which is exactly the warning scholars worth their salt would give, if asked. It’s certainly the best guess we can make based on the evidence we have, and thus should be treated in that manner, but not as though it’s an established fact.

The Face of the Deep (1.3)

I continue here with Christina Rossetti’s The Face of the Deep: A Devotional Commentary on the Apocalypse (London: SPCK, 1892). The other entries are found in the Poetry category in the right column.

3. Blessed is he that readeth, and they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein, for the time is at hand.
“Understandest thou what thou readest?” asked Philip the Deacon of the Ethiopian Eunuch. And he said, “How can I, except some man should guide me?” Whereupon flowed forth to him the stream of light, knowledge, and love. Yet not then did his illumination commence: it already was his in a measure to enjoy, respond to, improve, even before his father in God preaced Christ unto him. What could he do before that moment? He could study and pray, he could cherish hope, exercise love, feel after Him Whom as yet he could not intelligently find.

So much at least we all can do who read, or who hear, this Book of Revelations: thus claiming, and by God’s bounty inheriting, the covenanted blessing of such readers and hearers. Any who pray and love enjoy already no stinted blessing. Even the will to love is love.Continue reading “The Face of the Deep (1.3)”

biblical or Biblical?

shakespearean or Shakespearean? homeric or Homeric? Now both of those adjectives are based on personal names, but there is also a specific corpus in mind in the case of each, as in the case of biblical or Biblical. I usually see the former, but quite often the latter occurs.

The SBL Handbook prefers lowercase biblical (App. A, p. 154), following the Chicago Manual of Style, where we find recommended “Bible; biblical” (14th ed. §7.87; p. 269). Here’s what the CMS says about capitalization of religious names and terms:

In few areas is an author more tempted to overcapitalize or an editor more loath to urge a lowercase style than in religion. That this is probably due to unanalyzed acceptance of the pious customs of an earlier age, to an unconscious feeling about words as in themselves numinous, or to fear of offending religious persons is suggested by the fact that overcapitalization is seldom seen in texts on the religions of antiquity or more recent localized, relatively unsophisticated religions. Is is in the contexts of Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism that we go too far. The editors of the University of Chicago Press urge a spare, down style in this field as in others: capitalize what are clearly proper nouns and adjectives, and lowecase everything else except to avoid ambiguity (CMS 14, §7.77, p. 265; emphasis theirs).

Now as far as these prescriptive sources go, they’re fine. There are a couple of reasons, however, that I’m coming out in favor of uppercase Biblical, despite my purely aesthetic typographical preference for the title of this blog! Note the confused recommended “Bible; biblical” of CMS. Why this mix of cases? We all recognize with CMS that uppercase “Bible,” as the title of a particularly well-known book that is itself a collection of smaller books, is valid. And yet, illogically, the recommended adjective is the lowercase “biblical.” My issue with this particular “down style” is related to my discomfort with the neologism “biblioblog.” To my eye, “biblical” is too close to the generic “bibli-” usage, as in bibliophilia, bibliography, etc, implying a connection to books in general, while “Biblical” is quite a bit more obviously referring to that compendium “the Bible.” Similarly, in the above quotation, the CMS recommends “capitalize what are clearly proper nouns and adjectives.” Is “biblical” not an adjective in Chicago?

Valley of Siddim

I was just browsing through the Anchor Bible Dictionary (Doubleday, 1992) and ran across the article “Siddim, Valley of” (vol 6, pp 15-16) written by Michael Astour. It starts off nicely, giving a variety of translations and finally coming to the conclusion that śiddîm, from śādad, means “furrows,” so (yawn) the name means “Valley of Furrows.” Astour then asks, “Why did the author of Genesis 14 give such a name to the place of defeat of the kings of Sodom and Gomorrah?” His answer is interesting. He goes off on a wild tangent about the “Chedorlaomer Texts” (which, by the way, are almost entirely questionable in the readings thereof), Babylonian astronomy (!), and the “implication” in the biblical text (?) of the submergence of Sodom and Gomorrah by the Dead Sea. What the…?!

You know, yeah, of course, it must be something like that, because nobody ever heard of a valley with furrows in it….

Na’aman on Solomonic Districts

In light of these conclusions, two alternative dates may be suggested for the district list. According to the first, it was composed in the late eighth century BCE and reflects in outline the combined province systems of Assyria and Judah. According to the second, the overlap between Solomon’s district system and the Assyrian provinces is the outcome of historical continuity between the Israelite and Assyrian administrative systems. The Assyrians had inherited the Israelite district system and organized their province system in accordance with the administrative division that had been established in the land for a very long time. The district list reflects the combined district systems of the kingdoms of Israel and Judah in the eighth century BCE.

page 115 in Nadav Na’aman, “Solomon’s District List (1 Kings 4:7–19) and the Assyrian Province System” 102-119 in Ancient Israel’s History and Historiography: The First Temple Period. Collected Essays, Volume 3. (Eisenbrauns, 2006)

This paragraph is significant. Well, the whole book is significant, of course, really, but for this particular article, this paragraph is quite striking. While Na’aman’s focus is on the eighth century as the time to which the districts belong, and he spends much of it investigating the borders and comparing them to what we know (which is not very much) about the Assyrian system, he even so leaves open this entirely likely possibility: continuity with the previous Israelite and Judahite district systems contributed to the formation of the Assyrian provinces. The other option is wholesale importation of the Assyrian system into the Solomonic narratives, essentially suggesting the text is an anachronism. It is, however, far more likely from what we know of how the Assyrians took over other territories (again, this isn’t much) that the former boundaries of larger territories, and smaller regional boundaries within them were left intact. Numerous entire kingdoms were annexed to the Assyrian state, with a name change being usually the most drastic alteration geography-wise. And most of the Aramaean states annexed were, like the United Kingdom of Israel, founded roughly around the early tenth century. I note this because there is absolutely nothing inherently wrong with seeing an overall continuity in the case of regional subdivisions in any kingdom over the course of a mere two centuries or so. The system was likely Solomonic in origin and changed little over the following two centuries, at which point the Assyrians simply coopted the entire system through the annexed territories of Israel.

Another possible factor, which Na’aman doesn’t mention, is that an alteration of nomenclature for conquered geographic territories was typical Assyrian practice, as several were formerly named after their ruling dynasties (Bīt-Adini, Bīt-Hazaili, Bīt-Humria, etc) which had of course been terminated by the Assyrian annexations. This would require renaming to avoid association with the old regimes. For those Aramaean territories like Bīt-Adini which were in Mesopotamia, older, traditional names would suffice (like Lāqē in place of Bīt-Halupê). For other places, particularly in the west, outside of the Akkadian toponymic tradition, apparently naming the territory after its regional capital city was the practice (Asdūdu, Dimašqa, Qarnīna, Dū’ru, Magidû, Sāmerīna), or local long-established regional names (Supāt, Gal’ad, Hauran). Is it also perhaps possible to suggest that it was the repeatedly rebellious states which were subdivided on annexation? I think there’s not enough evidence to specify this level of detail, but it’s a possibility, as it seems even roughly equivalent or larger territories to the north of Damascus and Israel were left intact.

Anyhow, as always, Na’aman’s articles provide much food for thought.

The Face of the Deep (1.1-2)

As foretold in days of yore, here is the beginning of a lengthy serialized presentation of Christina Georgina Rossetti’s The Face of the Deep: A Devotional Commentary on the Apocalypse. The reader is guaranteed to gain from this:

a.) excellent poetry;

b.) the devotional commentary of a woman who, in the words of her brother,

clung to and loved the Christian creed because she loved Jesus Christ. “Christ is God” was her one dominant idea. Faith with her was faith pure and absolute: an entire acceptance of a thing revealed—not a quest for any confirmation or demonstrative proof (p. liv, The Poetical Works of Christina Georgina Rossetti, William Michael Rossetti, ed. London: Macmillan & Co., Ltd, 1914);

c.) the first verse-by-verse commentary on the Apocalypse authored by a woman, which makes it of historical import for various fields; and

d.) a work written by a highly literate, perceptive, and expressive person whose knowledge of the Bible was truly minute and ready (idem, lxix), whose other theological reading apparently consisted of only the Confessions of Augustine, The Imitation of Christ of Thomas à Kempis, and The Pilgrim’s Progress of John Bunyan (idem, lxix). And yet I think all will agree that this limitation in the author’s reading has not in any way damaged the power of her commentary, for it is a “devotional commentary” after all, which is a genre having its own gemstones strewn on however different a beach than some of my readers may tend to walk.

I intend to keep matters of orthography, formatting, and emphasis as close as possible to the printed text. Due to the length of the pericopes, I think I’ll only post this first fully as a blog entry, an apéritif, perhaps with the rest to be posted on a web page. So! Here we go!

CHAPTER 1

1. The Revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave unto Him, to show unto His servants things which must shortly come to pass; and He sent and signified it by His angel unto His servant John:
2. Who bare record of the word of God, and of the testimony of Jesus Christ, and of all things that he saw.

“Things which must shortly come to pass.”—At the end of 1800 years we are still repeating this “shortly,” because it is the word of God and the testimony of Jesus Christ: thus starting in the fellowship of patience with that blessed John who owns all Christians as his brethren (see ver. 9).

Continue reading “The Face of the Deep (1.1-2)”

The Testimonium Flavianum

Chris over at Thoughts on Antiquity brings up some questions concerning the Testimonium Flavianum in his The Quest for the Historical Jesus, pt. 3. Especially helpful for background on this sticky wicket is the link to Peter Kirby’s page on the Testimonium.

I come down on the side of those who would declare it partly original to Josephus, but reworked by a somewhat inept, if pious, Christian hand. My reasons are these.

The passage has certainly been doctored, but originally a very negative evaluation of Jesus was included in the place of the Testimonium. This is indicated by the following tales of religious impostors (Decius Mundus in 18.3.4[65-80]; the Jewish defrauder of Fulvia in 18.3.5[81-84]; the Samaritan of 18.4.1[85-87]). Rather than looking at these as general “tumults” (Mason as quoted on Kirby’s page), I think it’s much more likely that we’ve got a series of specifically religious impostors described here, and that this is the unifying theme of this particular digression (notice the text goes from Jesus in the early thirties through the Samaritan incident in 36, which led to Pilate’s recall, then through Vitellius’s governing of Syria and the death of Tiberius in 37 A.D., only to revert to 34 A.D. after the digression is over in 18.4.6[106] with the death of Philip.). This digression is more easily connected by the theme of religious impostors than by the theme of Pilate or Tiberius.

The 10th century Arabic version of the Testimonium, preserved in the Book of the Title of Agapius of Hierapolis/Mabbug, is clearly more along the line of a paraphrase than a translation of Josephus on the part of Agapius. The order of elements is altered, and some of these are part of the “Christian additions” that others posit, making this a clearly more complicated case. Meier notes this in Marginal Jew, vol. 1, pp 78-79, n. 37. Like Kirby, I find the Agapian addition “Pilate condemned him to be crucified and to die” to be polemically directed against the Mohammedan [I prefer that term] assertion that Jesus was not crucified, nor did he die, as supported by the Kuran: “And their saying, ‘We did kill the Messiah, Jesus, son of Mary, the Messenger of Allah;’ whereas they slew him not, nor crucified him, but he was made to appear to them like one crucified; and those who differ therein are certainly in a state of doubt about it; they have no definite knowledge thereof, but only follow a conjecture; and they did not convert this conjecture into a certainty. On the contrary, Allah exalted him to Himself” (al-Nisā 4:158-9). It would certainly be appropriate for Agapius to be involved in such polemics with the spread of Mohammedanism [another preferred term], as it was just then making its permanent inroads into Asia Minor at the expense of Eastern Christian communities there (see Ostrogorsky, History of the Byzantine State, or Bat Ye’or, Decline of Eastern Christianity Under Islam). Overall, the changes in order, and thereby emphasis, of the elements of the Testimonium as found in Agapius in comparison to the typical text clearly indicates some textual reworking going on in his use of the text. It’s certainly not a neutral text preserving the original of Josephus.

Contra Meier, and most others it would seem, I would suggest that the original is almost wholly lost, and the Testimonium as it stands is in a highly altered form from the original, with positive terms replacing negative, but also likely shortened. This elimination of some phrases would explain some of the peculiarites of language in the passage as noted by Mason: these are reworked fragments of the original sentences, not very artfully used. As it almost certainly was wholly offensive to early Christians, the original was altered sometime in the second or third century, before it came to Eusebius in the form we also now have it in our copies of Josephus.

On the other reference, I see absolutely no reason to doubt the “James, brother of Jesus the so-called Christ” of 20.9.1[200] to be authentic. It’s completely neutral, but also relies upon the presence of some prior introduction of “Jesus” in association with the term “Christ.” So, of course, if someone rejects the Testimonium altogether, they must reject this reference as well, but it’s not necessary from the context. Relatedly, the context doesn’t hold what some of those who reject this reference have claimed. The objection in 20.9.1[201] is raised not that innocent men have been executed, but that the law was subverted by the high priest ordering the execution of the “lawbreakers” James and company, taking advantage of the absence of the Roman authority. The misreading is easily done, however, taking into account an unconscious harmonization of the book of Acts’ picture of James and the account of his death as related by Hegesippus via Eusebius.

Na’aman Third Volume

The third volume of Eisenbraun’s Colllected Essays of Nadav Na’aman is now available: Ancient Israel’s History and Historiography – The First Temple Period. Cool-o-rama!

Professor Na’aman, for those who may not know, comes at biblical studies from the direction of Assyriology, like Tadmor, Malamat, Hallo, and a number of others. Their work in biblical studies, like their Assyriological work, is meticulous, detailed, and full of important comparative studies which are far more illustrative of what we should and should not expect of ancient writing than are those studies based solely upon biblical literature and theorizing therefrom. Hallo, indeed, is a major proponent of what has been alternately called the Contextual or Comparative Method or Approach, in which both similarities and dissimilarities are noted as important. See his detailed definition and explanation of this method, either in his essay included in Scripture in Context III (Edwin Mellen Press, 1990), or his slightly reworked version of this article as a chapter in his slim volume Book of the People (Scholars Press, 1991); the introduction to Context of Scripture I: Canonical Compositions from the Biblical World (Brill, 1997) also includes a short description of the method, but mentions the Scripture in Context III article as the definitive statement. I personally find the work of Assyriologists, specifically the aforementioned, in biblical studies to be consistently of the highest caliber methodologically. Their comparative work with the biblical and the cuneiform materials, the largest body of surviving ancient written material, is extremely important for biblical studies in showing us what was possible, what was likely, and what was done, and also what was not done, what was unlikely, and perhaps even some of what was impossible, in ancient writings. The importance, similarly, of the bibical materials for an understanding of the cuneiform materials is also coming to be better recognized, perhaps finally laying to rest the estimable Benno Landsberger’s misbegotten, if well-intentioned Eigenbegrifflichkeit (Islamica 2 [1926]: 355-72; trans. “The Conceptual Autonomy of the Babylonian World.” Undena, 1976), yet still avoiding the excesses of the old parallelomania, so delightfully monickered and pinned to the mat by Samuel Sandmel (JBL 81 [1962]: 1-13). And with a collection of Na’aman’s articles specifically relating to Israelite history and historiography in the First Temple, pre-exilic period, I’m sure we’ll find some really great stuff in the midst of the collection. I’m certain I’ll find it as hard to put down as the first two volumes, and will undoubtedly learn much from it. In this case, I think the whole-hearted recommendation of a book I haven’t even read yet isn’t even remotely preposterous.