Darwin Versus the Fall – Part One
Today I enjoyed an opportunity I had to listen (online) to a lecture delivered at Princeton Theological Seminary by Kenneth Reynhous, Co-Director of the Science for Ministry Institute entitled “Darwin Made Me Do It: Evolution & the Doctrine of Sin.” Reynhous discusses the doctrine of sin in light of evolution: “If present day humans are the end result of a long history of evolution, and if part of that history involves the emergence of the human moral sense to some degree, then how might this affect our theological understanding of the doctrine of sin?”
The particular conundrum Reynhous faces is that most doctrines of sin have been founded on an historical reading of the texts of Genesis 2-3, as though an historical man and his wife introduced sin into an otherwise sinless cosmic existence. Thus, the universal and inescapable reality of sin is one that can be traced back to an ontological fall of humanity, from a sinless to a sin-ridden state of existence. Christian apologists also tend to locate the origin of suffering and evil in this historical event as well. There are significant problems squaring this with a scientifically informed understanding of earth and human history; evolution suggests that the seeds of sin reside much deeper in our being than a secondary ontological state of existence. Thus, regarding sin, Reynhous concludes:
[The view of sin I am proposing] should take seriously both the fact of human evolution and the fact that our moral sense was shaped by this evolutionary process. Through this process, we have been endowed with a complex collection of behavioral dispositions which, in context, could encourage either morally positive, or morally negative responses. This same set of ambiguous moral inclinations combined with permutations of sociocultural norms, establishes the conditions for sinful behavior. Furthermore, such moral ambiguity underscores our continuity with the rest of creation, such that it is not possible to divide nature and spirit along moral lines.
In light of his conclusion, the connection between Reynhous’ title, “Darwin Made Me Do It” and the topic of sin is more apparent. Our moral compass is not something, according to Reynhous, that cannot be observed and examined with the eyes of science, particularly biological evolution. Much of his lecture goes into developing this point. What he is attempting to do, however, is approach this from two angles, the scientific and the religious.
In what follows, I am not interested in the debates that rage today over whether or not science and evolution have made religion obsolete. I presume the legitimacy of religion in general, and the Christian religion in particular, and I accept Christianity’s core theological conviction that sin is a universal and inescapable feature of the human condition. As a general rule, I start with the understanding that sin represents a disruption in right relationship with God and others, a disruption that prohibits us all from flourishing as God intends. There are many aspects to this thing called sin includeing individual, social, and structural dynamics complicated by gender, racial, and other cultural factors. Here though, I want to focus on the question of where sin comes from. What is the source of our sinful proclivities? And how is this source related to the fact that human morality has some connection to our evolutionary origins?
In my next post, I intend to explore further the doctrine of sin Reynhous envisions and how it squares with the text of Genesis 2-3.
The Historical Adam Debate
Richard has posted a link to an article written by Robert B. Strimple of Westminster Seminary California on Was Adam an Historical Person? What Difference Does it Make? originally published in Christian Renewal June 20, 1989. There is nothing remarkable about Strimple’s essay per se; I thought it was worthy of a response because the fundamental flaws in Strimple’s approach to the subject are so pervasive and constantly in need of being critically assessed.
After introducing those biblical scholars who have challenged the historicity of the man Adam we read about in the early portions of Genesis, Strimple begins his analysis of the issue: “I want first to cut right to the bottom line and examine the theological consequences of denying the historicity of Adam.” Beginning with the theological implications of a discussion is not inherently problematic. For example, someone could legitimately discuss the theological implications of denying the historicity of Jesus at the beginning of a book on the historical Jesus, but then go on to evaluate the historical evidence for or against the historicity of the man Jesus without assuming the theological implications are a part of that historical data. Jesus lived, breathed, died, and resurrected because he lived, breathed, died and resurrected, not because we need him to in order for our theology to be valid. If he didn’t live, breath, die, and raise from the dead, no amount of needing a Jesus who did to make our theology valid will bring that to pass.
Strimple is not, however, simply framing the discussion by addressing theological implications. The theological implications become the entire crux of his argument. There is absolutely no discussion of historical evidence that would lead us to conclude that the chapters in Genesis that discuss Adam are historical in nature, or to what degree they can be understood as historical. Strimple has claimed to write about an historical question, but he has failed to approach the task as an historian. For the historian’s task, I want to point you to one of Mark Goodacre’s recent NTPodcasts, A Historical Approach to the New Testament. While Mark has catered his discussion to New Testament studies, I think his principles will be helpful for approaching the Hebrew Bible as well.
Strimple operates under the assumption that the Bible can be considered a “special kind of evidence,” to use Mark Goodacre’s words. He appeals to Paul and to the theological traditions concerning scripture that he has inherited, but he fails to address the very things that could establish historicity. His argument is applicable only in so far as his presuppositions are shared by others. There is no sense in which this could be qualified an inquiry into the quest for an historical Adam.
This Week in the Context of Scripture
Do make sure and drop by Annuma and check out Brook Lester’s take on This Week in Context of Scripture. We conclude this week a series of Hittite archival letters sent from “his Manjesty” to Kussu. Additionally we read a letter sent from an Egyptian Queen Naptera to Puduhep, a Queen of Hatti and a letter from Hattusili III of Hatti To Kadasman-Enlil II of Babylon. In this latter letter, we read of a covenant that was established between two “brothers” that was supposed to be eternal. Thus, when one king died, the covenant extended to the progeny of the dead king, and his son becomes the new “brother” of the surviving king, maintaining the former alliance. The events of the letter suggest some time has passed since the young son assumed office, perhaps too young to rule independently, and that the young ruler now of age is acting in ways that suggests he is either unaware of or uninterested in honoring the alliance established by his father.
The editors of COS have identified a number of passages in Samuel-Kings that correspond to the political conflicts described in the letter. For example, the use of the term “brother” between covenanted parties can be found in 1 Ki 9:13; 20:32. On the extension of political alliances from departed kings to their sons, we read in 1 Sam 10:1-2, “After this the king of the Ammonites died, and Hanun his son reigned in his place. And David said, ‘I will deal loyally with Hanun the son of Nahash, as his father dealt loyally with me.’” These letters provide an interesting window into the political alliances typical among Hittite rulers in the late 2nd millenium BCE. While the events in the Bible belong to the 1st millenium BCE, it is helpful to see how these types of alliances and treaties are comfortably situated in the ANE in the general time period we read about the Bible. These connections lend support to those who would defend the use of texts like Samuel-Kings as evidence that can help us to understand better the historical period these texts record. While there is no reason not to critically analyze the biblical text and subject it to the same kind of scrutiny other historical documents are subjected to, a “guilty until proven innocent” approach is hardly justifiable.
Next week’s readings will pick up a little from this past week’s.
6th – Letter from Piha-Walwi of Hatti to Ibiranu of Ugarit (3.32)
7th – The Case Against Ura-Tarhunta and His Father Ukkura (3.33)
8th – City Inventories – KBo 2.1 (CTH 509) (3.34)
9th – Cult Image Descriptuions – KUB 38.2 (Bildbeschr. Text 1) (3.35)
10th – Votive Records – KUB 15.1 (CTH 584.1) (3.36)
11th – Archive Shelf Lists – From Buyukkale, Building A, Rooms 1-2 (3.37)
12th – From Buyukkale, Building A, Rooms 4-5 (3.38)
Review of The Goodly Fellowship of the Prophets by Christopher Seitz
Christopher Seitz has recently written The Goodly Fellowship of the Prophets: The Achievement of Association in Canon Formation. This book is essentially an extension of the argument begun in his 2007 book, Prophecy and Hermeneutics: Toward a New Introduction to the Prophets. (If you are not already somewhat familiar with this work, check out the reviews by Ben Johnson, Phil Sumpter, Julia M. O’Brien, and Michael B. Shepherd.) Moreover, it seems to be a stepping stone to a book he is writing, The Character of Christian Scripture: Canon and the Rule of Faith (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, forthcoming).
In The Goodly Fellowship of the Prophets [TGFP], Seitz addresses the subject of canon formation using Israel’s prophetic corpus as the key that unlocks many of the mysteries that surround our understanding of canon: “A goodly fellowship of the prophets lies at the heart of OT canon formation” (103). The term ‘fellowship’ paired with the term ‘association’ in the subtitle are the key words to Seitz’ thesis. Those familiar with Prophesy and Hermeneutics [PH] are aware of the significance that Seitz places on how the prophetic books have been arranged and how that arrangement highlights associations embedded within the larger product that prove hermeneutically significant. He spends a significant portion of each book (PH and TGFP) discussing the history of the treatment of the prophets, how they have been removed from their canonical location and related to one another by means of a reconstructed historical timeline. In PH, he demonstrates the insufficiencies of this approach and offers an alternative approach to an introduction of the prophets, one that recognizes the significance of the association established in the canonical shape of the prophets, particularly Isaiah and the Book of the Twelve. In TGFP, he picks up this discussion, particularly to examine how the intentionality behind the structuring of the prophetic corpus enlightens our understanding of the process of canonical formation.
Of course, those familiar with the earliest arrangement of the biblical books knows that there is not one definitive canonical arrangement. The three-fold arrangement of the Hebrew Bible adopted by the Jews and used by early Christians (c.f. Mt 23:5; Lk 24:44) is different than the four-fold arrangement of printed English Bibles in significant ways, and these arrangements themselves are not necessarily monolithic in how each individual book is arranged within the larger structure. Seitz insufficiently addressed this in PH, but he has developed a sophisticated argument in TGFP defending the three-fold arrangement and suggesting that “when the fundamental logic and grammar of the tripartite structure has been grasped, it is entirely possible to understand how the fourfold order arose and indeed how a wide variety of listings emerged” (123).
In the three-fold arrangement, the Law and the Prophets achieve a stable order. I assume there is no discussion of Genesis-Deuteronomy because no variance in the order of these five books exists. The represent the most stable achievement of association (evidenced in both the three- and four-fold arrangements). They are followed by the former prophets which achieve their association with the Torah by means of Deuteronomy, particularly the prophetic portrayal of Moses. Additionally, association among the former prophets could be supported by their common approach to Israel’s history, often cast in terms of the Deuteronomistic History. To approach the achievement of association within the latter prophets, Seitz begins by observing the association achieved by the compilers/editors of the Book of the Twelve which he sees as comparable to the association achieved by the compilers/editors of Isaiah. He spells this out in much greater detail in PH. The Twelve, comparable in size to one of the three, is then affiliated with the three. “The hard work of creating a twelve-book prophetic achievement, such as we find in the Latter Prophets, is also happening in loose association with the History and the Three, such that a coherent prophetic corpus is emerging” (91). And from this emerges the Law and the prophets,
It is not necessary, according to Seitz, to see the same level of stability established by the writings as by the Law and the Prophets. “The Writings are a distinctive category. The character of their internal arrangement is different in kind from the Prophets and evolved in distinction to the accomplishment of association noted in the prophetic division” (118). The way in which the writings achieve association and join themselves to the canon is not through association one with another, but through their association with the Law and the Prophets. “Writings derive their logic, canonically, from being external to, independent of, but in loose association with, not one another, but the individual books or mature arrangements of the Law and the Prophets . . . . In either the Jewish or Christian context, however, the authority of the individual writings presupposes a prior stability and logic in the books of the Law and the Prophets” (99-100). There are significant implications to this thesis. First is that a canon need not be closed in order for it to function as a canon. “It is meaningful to speak of an ‘open canon,” if by that is meant the capacity of the Law and the Prophets to function as canon, no matter the precise number or order of the books in the third distinctive section” (30). “Closure does not authority make” (64). Second is that the canonical development of the writings “anticipates” the canonical development of the New Testament: “What the Writings judge to be true of the Law and the Prophets, so also the NT judges to be true both of the Law and the Prophets and of this third category of books” (100).
It becomes clear now of Seitz’ larger goal (which is actually made explicit in the first chapter of his book). Understanding the achievement of association that produces the canon of the Hebrew Bible becomes foundational for understanding the logic of the canonical formation of the New Testament. The following quote follows a discussion of those who see the canonical formation of the Hebrew Bible as influenced by the canonical formation of the New Testament.
Those who believe that the OT’s canonical character is intimately tied up with that of the NT are correct, but they have the influence running in the wrong direction. The OT does not accomplish a canonical authority in the context of churchly reflections on a rule of faith or in the debates and evolving consensus about the way the NT may properly be received as canon in fixed form. The OT’s canonical form and status are the assisting means by which a collateral apostolic witness emerges and finds its structure and authority. The rule of faith is that appeal ot the christological and (incipiently) trinitarian claims of the OT, such as we find these in the accordance statements of the evolving traditions of the apostolic writings, en route to becoming a NT.
Elsewhere, Seitz describes the rule of faith as “a correlating of the gospel with the stable and authoritative claims of the scriptures of Israel, seen now as a first testament and crucial foundational witness” (97) and as “an argument based on the scriptures of Israel for maximal continuity between Christ’s work and the Scriptures that promised his appearing and that spoke of his activity in figure, in word to patriarch and prophet, in moral exhortation, and in the giving of the law–all under a network of types within the OT itself” (124; cf. 131). As I close out my presentation of Seitz’ argument, it is appropriate to quote his final paragraph:
As a result of the present work, my hope is that the grounding character of the scriptures of Israel will be better appreciated, especially at a time when historical developmentalism forms the overdetermined backdrop against which we read both the Old and the New Testaments of one Christian Scripture. Even within the maturation of the first scriptural witness, Law and Prophets are not successive phases in a history of religion but belong together as a reciprocal account of God’s providential work in creation, law, and historical action in Israel and the nations, including future promise, the fulfillment of God’s righteous will, and new creation. This same dynamic governs the way the Old and the New now work together, a single canonical totality dynamically related and mutually informing. The New is not a phase of development that grounds the Old but rather a statement of the Old’s abiding sense and final meaning, perceived now afresh within its own plain-sense deliverances and helping to interpret and ground the New’s meaning and final purpose as well.
The book is 132 pages long, includes footnotes and a single author/topical index in the back (no bibliography). It can easily be read on a lazy Saturday. Those who have not encountered Seitz’ style before may have some difficulty. I agree with Julia O’Brien who observed in her review of PH that Seitz has a tendency to be “uneven and repetitious,” and attributes this to the fact that the book is drawn from “previous public lectures and publications.” TGFP was also born out of a series of lectures Seitz twice delivered and suffers from similar stylistic problems.
Nevertheless, Seitz has written an important work, one which has the potential to accomplish a number of things. He has persuasively articulated a concept of canon that need not focus upon a closed and definitive list in order for the canon to be operative. The canon can under go changes and additions and remain authoritative throughout. This extends not only to the addition of the writings but also to the development of the New Testament. The proposal put forth by Seitz defines what it means to conceive a Christian canon, and yet Jews will find in Seitz’ proposal an equally satisfying way of understanding the Hebrew Bible. Thus, Seitz has opened up another avenue for increased dialogue between Jewish and Christian scholars. Having been raised in a characteristically Lutheran tradition as it pertains to understanding Law (which is then confused with the OT), I particularly appreciate how Seitz’ proposal makes it possible to bring the two testaments together as a single Christian canon and recognizes that the NT achieves its canonical status by its association with the OT. This book should make its way into the hands scholars of all stripes including both Jew and Christian alike, rabbi’s, pastors, Bible teachers and anyone who interacts with either the Hebrew Bible or the Old and New Testaments. Everyone has something to gain from reading this book, so get your hands on a copy now read it. You will not regret it.
Bill McKibben on the book of Job and Climate Change
At first, it may not seem like the book of Job has much to say about climate change. But Bill McKibben, Scholar-in-Residence in Environmental Studies at Middlebury College and founder of 350.org made a very insightful observation in his recent interview with Krista Tippett on the Speaking of Faith segment on NPR:
The message seems to be “Job, you’re not the center of things. You are a small part of something very large and beautiful and that should be enough,” and for Job it appears to be enough. So the shocking part in reading it now is realizing that for the first time in human history, we’re no longer in the position that Job was in. So now we spit back at God. “Can you tell the proud waves where to break? “Hell yes! We think we are going to raise the level of the ocean a couple of meters in the course of this century.” “Do you know where the storms are kept?” “Yeah, were pushing cyclones one after another across the Pacific.” In a very short order we got very, very big. Human being have always been in Job’s position–small. And our job is to figure out how to get smaller again. And I think it is essentially a theological task.
Often we discuss the roles of science and faith and how they should interact. This is, I believe, an excellent example of science and faith working together. Here you have a scientist asking how theology can understand, articulate, and help us to move forward in light of an environmental catastrophe. He is not ignoring the scientific answers to the questions as his website makes clear, but he recognizes that science is not the only voice that can or should be contributing to the discussion. Indeed, he claims the “essence” of this discussion is “theological.”
I agree. I hope to incorporate more of my environmental concerns and proposals in future posts with a characteristically theological spin.
Why I am Not an Inerrantist – Part Five
5. Inerrancy construes the Bible as a mere repository of truth.
Inerrancy is hardly ever about error. I believe that the core concern of the inerrantist movement is that of truth. Error only enters the discussion insofar as it is assumed to be antithetical to truth. Thus, for many, the mere presence of error in Scripture suggests that Scripture’s truth is in question. This assumption itself is worth questioning. Could not error be a medium through which truth is communicated? All of this really boils down to my previous post where I discussed the problem of actually finding a standard against which biblical error/truth could be measured. Let us assume that science is a standard against which we should measure the Bible. Is there any question that the ancient Israelites were erroneous regarding the nature of the cosmos (flat earth, solid dome sky, earth surrounded by cosmic sea)? And yet, have they not been successful at using that erroneous cosmological worldview to communicate what is certainly the more important truth, that of God’s own activity and presence within the cosmos? Nevertheless, short of a definitive standard for truth or error, we will forever be debating what actually constitutes error, and thus incapable of ever really addressing the real issue of biblical truth–what I would like to do now.
I am not one who would deny that the abstract concept ‘truth’ actually exists, and that it is a meaningful concept in relation to the biblical text. Just because a concept is notoriously difficult to define and nail down does not mean that concept doesn’t exist. The significant question, as I understand it, is What is the nature of Scripture’s association with truth? I am afraid that inerrantists construe this relationship too simply, as though Scripture is merely a repository of truth or truths. Thus, one need only open the pages of the bible and one will find truth scattered throughout the pages. Maybe. But then again, the Bible gives naysayers and skeptics plenty of room to plead their case on the pages of the Bible, the book of Job being a classic example. It cannot be as simple as opening the Bible, reading something, and knowing that what you just read was error-free (thus true), because the Bible testifies that it isn’t so (Job 42:7).
When the Bible is understood as merely a repository of truth or truths, the significant question arises as to what one is to make of conflicting truths. I believe one of the most liberating things about not being an inerrantist is giving up the false notion that the Bible doesn’t contain contradictions. The problem with the problem of contradictions in the Bible is that contradictions are the warp and woof of Christianity. Paul’s glorified reading of Abraham as the model of Christian faith demonstrates this well. “In hope, he believed against hope . . .” (Rom 4:18). People don’t rise from the dead. If this were not true, Christianity would ultimately be rendered meaningless. And yet, Christianity simultaneously declares as true that Jesus has indeed risen from the dead. In hope, we believe against hope. Contradictions in the Bible are an extension of our faith. The reflect the way we live and what we we experience in life (see this video, particularly 33:50-the end). Thus, I believe it is natural to see the Bible contain and entertain contradictions. In this vein, Scripture is often described as dialogical. I believe that this is, at present, the best way we know how to approach the truth of Scripture.
Scripture’s truth is not a collection of true assertions but a dialogue of voices asserting, counter-asserting, refuting, and defending what is true. The truth is not in any one voice, but in the world that emerges from the many voices through whom God has chosen to equip and direct us. Inerrancy does not allow us to conceive the full vision of this world because it demands that we deny much of how this world is expressed. It defines truth, and understands our capacity for grasping it, in ways that are significantly problematic. Earlier last year, Chris Tilling wrote an exceptional post entitled Negotiating Tensions In the Bible in which he made this observation: “Truth is a multifaceted complex beast, not easily domesticated, tamed or boxed.” To quote Wayne Meeks in a lecture he gave in 2007 at Abilene Christian University, “The next time you hear someone say, ‘The Bible clearly teaches…’, please say to yourself, if not to the speaker, ‘no it doesn’t.’ The Apostle Paul knew the Bible better than any of us and he said, ‘now I know only in part.’ If the Bible ‘teaches’, it does so only through a mirror darkly until the end of time” (HT: Ben Griffith). And should either of these two quotes bother you, or should you find yourself strongly in disagreement, please consider viewing this TED video where the presenter demonstrates and concludes that “only through uncertainty is there potential for understanding.”
In the end, it really all boils down to something David Kerr said in a recent post: “Those who read the Bible in a way it was not intended by its author do more violence to the spirit and intent of the Scriptures.” Simply put, I don’t think the human authors or the divine author ever intended us to read Scripture with the baggage of inerrancy. And that is why I am not an inerrantist.
This Week in the Context of Scripture
This week’s reading was very light. The first two texts indicate the presence of semitic people in Egypt prior to and following the time of the Hyksos in Egypt. These are not characters from the story in the Hebrew Bible. The other readings begin the Hittite section in the third volume and consist of a series of letters sent to the king of Kassu regarding a conflict believed to be “between the Hittite rulers in Hattusa and the Kaska of northern Anatolia.” This series of letters continues into next week, so save any significant observations, I will likely wait another week before posting in this series.
23rd – The King to Kassu in Tapikka 6 (HKM 6) (3.18)
24th – The King to Kassu in Tapikka 7 (HKM 7) (3.19)
25th – The King to Kassu in Tapikka 8 (HKM 8] (3.20)
26th – The King to Kassu in Tapikka 9 (HKM 9) (3.21)
27th – The King to Kassu in Tapikka 10 (HKM 10) (3.22)
28th – The King to Kassu in Tapikka 11 (HKM 12) (3.23)
29th – The King to Kassu in Tapikka 12 (HKM 13) (3.24)
A New Biblioblog!
My friend Paavo Tucker has finally taken my advice and has started blogging. Paavo represents a very rare corner of Bibliblogodom–Finnish-American bloggers. If for no other reason, that should compel you to take a look! Additionally he has joined the elite of biblioblogodom by using a phrase from Ecclesiastes as the title of his blog, מה־יתרון. He will be blogging on Hebrew Bible and ancient Near Eastern studies. Go check it out!
Review of Prayer in the Hebrew Bible, Part Three
Chapter 4 & 5 – Prayer and the Depiction of Character & Prayer and the Characterization of God
It is always interesting to me what items land on prayer requests. In my experience, prayer has become for many a divine complaint box into which numerous woes are dumped day after day. Occasionally I have seen prayer leaders suggest that every petition be accompanied by an item of praise, which then leads to a much smaller prayer list (fewer people are submitting their requests). The character of a group is exposed by examining those things they choose to pray about. This is, in many ways, how Balentine sees the narrative prayers in the Hebrew Bible functioning.
As discourse between people and God, prayer plays an important role in portraying both human and divine character. What people say to God–there petitions and their praise, their desires and the live situations that bring them into articulation–reveal motives, attitudes, and morality. Likewise, the ascriptions addressed to God in prayer (e.g., “loving,” “just,” “merciful,” “sovereign”) reveal assumptions about divine character and divine receptiveness to human concerns, assumptions that a narrative situation may confirm, modify, or refute be supplying or withholding a divine response. It is part of the art of Hebrew narrative that such recorded dialogues enable the reader to witness the two-way traffic between heaven and earth and thus enter into the process of understanding the character of the parties involved. (48)
Balentine spends two chapters demonstrating how the Hebrew Bible uses narrative prayer to depict human characters (chap. 4) and God (chap. 5). Of human characters, prayer can confirm one’s status as worthy or blessed. In the case of Hezekiah, a deathly illness and the prophetic announcement of an immanent death calls into question the otherwise positive presentation of this king. Is he not, as readers have been lead to believe, a just and righteous king? Hezikiah’s prayer (including what is present and absent in his prayer), following the prophetic announcement of his immanent death, confirms his positive character, and the storyline follows suit as Hezikiah is granted 15 more years of life. Prayer can also serve to caricature or parody a biblical character. Balentine discusses the prayers of Jacob and Jonah in this light (though I suspect John might take issue with Balentine in reference to Jacob’s character). Of God, narrative prayers in the Hebrew Bible characteristically reveal how God’s own character is understood. This need not be understood merely as a description of an a particular person’s conception of God; how God is understood by these pray-ers becomes the model for how God is to be understood.
The Devil on Pat Robertson and Haiti
If you haven’t yet had your fill of responses to Pat Robertson’s comments on Haiti’s pact with the devil, you might be interested to read the response written up by the prince of darkness himself. NPR has the story.

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