Boundaries-B-Gone

In my Galatians Romans class last semester, we were assigned to create a multimedia project somehow related to the subject matter for class. The project that was clearly the favorite of the class was recently posted on YouTube. Check it out, it is rather clever!

The following film has been rated NP: some material may not be suitable for John Piper.

Review of The Theology of the Book of Genesis by R. W. L. Moberly

I am not the first to review R. W. L. Moberly’s Theology of the Book of Genesis, the latest contribution to Cambridge University Press’ Old Testament Theology series. I find myself overwhelmingly in agreement with Ben’s assessment over at kilbabo, so I will attempt to avoid unnecessary repetition and explore a little further the uniqueness of this interesting yet frustrating book. Those who have not read Ben’s review are encouraged to read it in concert with my own.

Moberly, by his own admission, did not write a theology of the book of Genesis.

The discussion of the biblical text will necessarily be selective. . . . I am painfully aware of what is not included; for this I ask the reader’s indulgence (and forgiveness). What follows is a guide to, rather than a comprehensive coverage of, what theological understanding and appropriation of Genesis today may involve. (20)

Indeed, what Moberly demonstrates in this book is not simply what theological understanding and appropriation of Genesis today may involve, but what theological understanding and appropriation of any biblical text should involve. For this reason, the most valuable part of Moberly’s book is the introduction (though I hesitate to say that it is “worth the price of the book”). Moberly begins by briefly exploring the various ways in which the word “theology” has been understood historically, and asserts that one must “recover a more classic sense of theology, as an attempt to understand everything in the world in relation to God” (5), in order to truly arrive at a theology of Genesis.This is precisely what the book does.

Apart from his definition of “theology,” Moberly’s refusal to focus only on the text itself reflects his conviction that studying Genesis is not like studying other ancient texts. “Genesis is not a freestanding ancient text, like the Epic of Gilgamesh, but is part of the authoritative scriptures of synagogue and church, wherein there has been an unbroken history through the centuries of living with the text in a veriety of ways” (6). This admittedly confessional approach suggests that biblical theology cannot fail to account for the reader’s own context and how that context shapes the biblical text:

It follows from this that there is something intrinsically contextual and provisional about theological use of the biblical text. Theology is not a once-for-all exercise in finding the right words and/or deeds, but rather a continuing and ever-repeated attempt to articulate what a faithful understanding and use of the biblical text might look like in the changing circumstances of life. (19)

In a recent post, I include a quote from Mark Smith’s new book, The Priestly Vision of Genesis 1 (review forthcoming), where I believes he does just this regarding the motif of God creating through violence. Moberly accomplishes this by focusing on specific texts and entering into dialogue with modern conversation partners regarding the issues raised by the text. For example, in his chapter “Genesis 1: Picturing the World,” Moberly engages in dialogue with Jon Levenson and the views he expresses in Creation and the Persistence of Evil, as well as Richard Dawkins and the views he expresses in River out of Eden: a Darwinian View of Life and The Blind Watchmaker: Why  the Evidence of Eveolution Reveals a Universe Without Design. Those interested in the intersection of faith and science will find this chapter to be a very exciting reading. As you can imagine, these encounters make Moberly’s book very relevant, but unfortunately, it does not help in shaping an overall theology of the book of Genesis.

It is worth mentioning for those interested in Genesis 12:1-3 that Moberly has proposed a reading that would challenge a long term consensus view of this passage. In summary:

The supposition that those who invoke Abraham in blessing actually receive the blessing invoked is a non sequitur that goes well beyond the meaning of the Genesis text. The textual concern is to assure Abraham that he really will be a great nation, and the measure of that greatness is that he will be invoked on the lips of others as  a model of desirability. The condition of othe rnations in their own right is not in view, beyond their having reason not to be hostile to Abraham. (155)

Overall, the book is well written, and it will certainly engage those who are interested in how the texts of Genesis treated in the book speak beyond their ancient horizon to our modern context. Moberly models an approach to Genesis, and the whole bible for that matter, that is engaging, relevant, and ultimately theological. While the book has a lot to offer, knowing that it is selective in what it addresses will help those who are interested in a comprehensive treatment of the theological message of Genesis not to get their hopes up.

Mark Smith on the Violent Imagery of God as Creator

In his powerful new book, The Priestly Vision of Genesis 1, Mark Smith writes,

While we may be–and arguably should be–uncomfortable with the idea of a God who takes up violence to punish or test, such a way of looking at the world reminds us that God both cares about the world and cares enough that God is prepared to act. When we feel our discomfort at this side of God, we may also be forgetting the terrible violence of the ancient world in which Israel lived–and in which many people around the world live today. To my mind, the first model [of God creating by might and through conflict] acknowledges not only God’s power; it also calls us to resist human power and human structures in which our lives are intractably embedded. Moreover, I am often struck by the comfort that the first model [of God creating by might and through conflict] gives to people who themselves have little or no recourse in this world. While I recoil at the idea of the violent God, many people who take comfort in it are consoled not so much by the picture of divine violence, but by the sense of divine attention and care that it conveys to them for the possibility of overcoming terrible human power in the world. I may recoil perhaps in part because I can afford to; as a fairly privileged upper middle-class American, I suffer little from the world’s violence and thus far–thank God–it has not intruded much into my existence. But this is hardly the case for the vast number of people who look to the Bible for how it may speak to their lives. (32-3)

Theology, if it is worth anything, will recognize the context that gives it life. The violent imagery of God creating the world has profound implications, but these implications will vary in light of the worldview of those who encounter the imagery. Smith’s wariness of such imagery only makes sense in light of the many ways in which people both past and present act violently in the name of God, and yet his willingness to see this imagery through the eyes of those who “have little or no recourse in this world” offers a new perspective that breaths life into the text. However much our “enlightened” perspective on the world helps us to better understand the text of Scripture, it is just as likely to prove a hindrance to our understanding of the theology of Scripture.

References

Smith, Mark S. The Priestly Vision of Genesis 1. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2010.

Is Genesis 1 a Polemic?

Nathan MacDonald over at Early Jewish Monotheisms has a post by the same title in which he challenges the ‘polemic’ reading of Genesis and commends a recent article by Jan Gertz. What he said reminded me of something Fretheim writes in God and World:

At the same time, to conceive of the biblical account’s relationship to these other stories fundamentally in disjunctive or polemical terms can miss their genuine contribution to Israel’s own reflection about creation. Israel certainly believed that God had been active through the years in the life and thought of other cultures, including their thinking about creational issues (as well as other mattters, such as law), and they were not fearful of drawing on such reflection. Such an understanding would be witness to the activity of God the Creator, not only before Israel existed but also during the history of the chosen people. (66-7)

It sounds like Nathan sees zero polemic in Genesis 1, whereas Fretheim will allow polemic to exist, but not as the essence of what is happening in Genesis 1. Because I cannot ignore the existence of texts like Enuma Elish, I cannot help but see polemical elements to Genesis 1 (even if that is my own theologizing at work), but I appreciate the warnings of Nathan and Fretheim not to make Genesis 1 out to be a polemic.

Reference

Fretheim, Terence E. God And World In The Old Testament: A Relational Theology Of Creation. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2005.

Can God Change?

James McGrath recently commented about Another Christian Repudiation of the Bible. He was talking about Steve Kellmeyer who recently wrote:

And, from an atheist’s point of view, Allah has a marvelous attribute: Allah can change his mind. Allah turns good into evil and evil into good by simply commanding it. And for the liberal atheist, this is very comforting. Sure, Allah doesn’t like homosexuality or rape today, but He might change His mind tomorrow. My self-destructive behaviour today may turn out to be a wonderful moral good tomorrow.

If God exists, I want him to be Allah. I will follow only the God of Mohammed, for Mohammed has shown the way. Indeed, Mohammed discovered this marvelous quality: I don’t need to change, Allah will change the universe for me, to suit me. And if Allah does not? It does not matter. There is no Allah. Allah changes, morality changes. The universe is what we make of it. This is the liberal atheist’s hope.

With Judeo-Christianity, no such possibility exists. God will never change His mind because God does not change. But with Islam all bets are off. Allah may decide tomorrow that rape is perfectly fine, that homosexuality is the preferred form of sexual expression. All we liberal atheists need to do is convince the imams that this is so. And how tough can that be? We will speak honeyed words, show them that we share their understanding of the universe.

I could not resist emailing this guy, no doubt due to some undiagnosed medical condition. Some of that conversiation is in the comments of James’ blog. Steven Carr posted a good question that I rephrased and sent to Mr. Kellmeyer.

If our perception of God’s will is always changing, then how do you know that your perception of his will–that it is unchanging–is accurate? How am I to know with confidence that your perception of God’s (immutable) will is a more accurate reflection of the reality of God’s will than that of Scripture when it speaks of a mutable divine intention (Jer 18:8, 10; 26:3; 36:3)? Without an *a priori* commitment to your position, how would I know that I must not take these texts in Jeremiah at face value?

Here is part of Mr. Kellmeyer’s (very quick) reply.

The problem is even worse if God can change.

If God can change, then how do we know He won’t say rape is a means of grace tomorrow? How do we know that stealing is ALWAYS wrong? Maybe He’ll change His mind tomorrow and decide that it’s ok.

The idea of a God who can change means that all truth is relative – it depends on what God wants to do this minute, and He might decide on something else five minutes from now. The Muslims believe that, but Christians never have.

So, it is much easier to deal with the problem of an unchanging God and changing human perceptions than it is to deal with the twin problems of a changing God AND changing human perceptions.

Essentially, Mr. Kellmeyer is right because it would be really bad for humanity if he were wrong. And then, Mr. Kellmeyer ends with the statement: “In order to know God’s immutable will, He must establish for us some means by which we ALWAYS have an opportunity to know what his unchanging will is.” I can’t wait for him to respond to my next email in which I ask him what that means is! It surely isn’t the Bible (since, of course, the Bible is working under the delusion that God can change his mind.)

I know we all come to the text with a priori comitments, but I hope mine are not so transparent(ly fallible). Honestly Jim, can we label this guy a dilettante?

**Update**

Mr. Kellmeyer responds that God orally preserves his tradition through his bishops. Ironically enough, he uses the Bible to support his bishop argument, and then he uses the bishops to undermine the Bible.

Moberly on the Avoidability and Inevidability of Disobedience

We find that the story [of Genesis 3] in fact contains two distinct points, depending upon how one reads it. If one takes the story as a whole, then the words of judgment in 3:14-19 are part of what happens when man is disobedient. If one takes the words in 3:14-19 in their own right, they show that man is disobedient. The former reading implies that disobedience is not inevitable–obedience to Torah is a real possibility for man (cf. Deut. 30:11-14). The latter implies that disobedience is in fact universal. Although there is a certain tension between these two points, their conflation in the text can be understood in the same sort of way as one of the theological paradoxes of the flood narrative. There, although man is universally sinful (Gen 6:5), Noah finds favour in the eyes of God (6:8) and is explicitly said to be righteous (6:9). Even more strikingly, God’s final pronouncement of the enduring sinfulness of man’s heart (8:21) must, in terms of the story, refer primarily to Noah himself and his family, even though Noah at the time is offering an acceptable sacrifice. Such a paradoxical assessment of man as profoundly sinful and yet also capable of true obedience to God is clear in the flood story. I propose that Gen. 2-3 should be read in a similar way. (20-21)

I am not sure that I agree that “the words in 3:14-19 in their own right . . . show that man is disobedient.” I would put it this way:

If one takes the story as a narrative about a man and his wife, then the words of judgment in 3:14-19 are part of what happens when man is disobedient. If one recognizes that this man and his wife are not a historical couple but rather the story of all humanity (“These are the generations of the heavens and the earth” Gen 2:4), they show that man is disobedient.

Recast in this light, I find Moberly’s observation about the paradox in the text to be quite profound indeed! Moberly’s entire article has been delightful and stimulating, though I disagree with his ultimate conclusion.

References

Moberly, R W L. “Did the Serpent Get It Right?.” Journal of Theological Studies 39, no. 1 (1988): 1-27.

In Whose Image is Humanity Made? Part Two

In a recent post, I discussed the problem of identifying exactly what it means to be made in the image of God. The problem associated with this task is in identifying or defining the image of God. Is it the image of God in the first 27 verses of Genesis? Does it include material beyond these verses? Do we include all the divine imagery of Genesis? Of the Hebrew Bible? Of the Christian Bible? The task is no doubt a difficult one. Something R. W. L. Moberly brings out in his article “Did the Serpent Get it Right?” concerning the text of Genesis 3 I think is helpful to us in reflecting on this question (though a well defined image will remain elusive). He writes:

While the story [of Genesis 3] is set in the context of the beginnings of human history, it is not actually told from that perspective but from the perspective of Hebrew life in the historical context of ancient Israel. This emerges most clearly through reflection upon the fact that the story is told in the mature language of classical Hebrew and embodies the developed concepts of classical Hebrew theology. Langauge is a social and cultural phenomenon which cannot exist in isolation, nor can there be reflective theological thinking without an approapriate langauge to express it. Classical Hebrew langauge and theology therefore presuppose developed Hebrew cutlure. Such culture could not have existed in the story’s own context, which is far removed from the Hebrew world of ancient Israel in both space and time. This has at least two implications. First, the story will of necessity illuminate primarily the cultural context within which it was written, rather than the primeval context in which it is set. Secondly, it will mean that it is appropriate to interpret the story in the light of a discriminating use of the rest of the Old Testament, as at least some of the rest of the Old Testament is presupposed by this story. (1-2)

Were we to know the precise cultural context out of which Genesis 1 were formed, we might have a more definitive answer to our question. Although at the same time, I hesitate to think that this image is one that should only be understood in terms of the image envisioned by the culture that produced this text. Such information would be helpful, but it would not be ultimate. In as much as God is a reality to which the text can only provisionally speak, this fullness of this image will always elude us. But we are not left to our own devices, as Moberly observes. Through a discriminating use of the Hebrew Bible, we are guided to concrete (though limited) significance. In many ways, verses 28-30 expand verse 27, and the story beginning in chapter 2 expands verses 28-30. But the question still remains, where does this lead us?

References

Moberly, R W L. “Did the Serpent Get It Right?.” Journal of Theological Studies 39, no. 1 (1988): 1-27.

Now the Serpent was Exceptionally Shrewd . . .

I have been using Robert Alter’s The Five Books of Moses recently in an adult Bible class I have been teaching. One of the praiseworthy aspects of his translation is the preservation of ambiguity. The Hebrew text does not always clarify meaning grammatically as we tend to prefer, and translations often cater to our preferences by removing the ambiguity. I, however, find it exciting to find ways to “translate” the ambiguity of a passage.

Recently over at Biblia Hebraica, Doug and I had a brief exchange over the description of the serpent in Genesis 3. The description of the serpent in Hebrew reads:

וְהַנָּחָשׁ֙ הָיָ֣ה עָר֔וּם מִכֹּל֙ חַיַּ֣ת הַשָּׂדֶ֔ה אֲשֶׁ֥ר עָשָׂ֖ה יְהוָ֣ה אֱלֹהִ֑ים

Doug was basing his interpretation on the typical way English versions translate the מן, as a comparative particle. I suggested the possibility of a partitive use of the particle. Thus, rather than interpreting this as saying that the serpent was the most shrewd, he could rather be understood as the solely shrewd beast of the field.

Assuming I am right regarding the ambiguity of this text, then something Moberly said in his article “Did the Serpent Get it Right?” lends itself to capturing this ambiguity in an English translation. Moberly writes, “The story continues with the introduction of the serpent, who is said to be cunning to an exceptional degree and is one of the creatures made by God” (5, emphasis added). If one were to translate the passage, “Now the serpent was exceptionally shrewed of all the beasts of the field which YHWH God made,” then one would preserve both the comparative and partitive potentiality of the construction. Nice!

As to the use of the word “shrewd,” see here.

References

Moberly, R W L. “Did the Serpent Get It Right?.” Journal of Theological Studies 39, no. 1 (1988): 1-27.

God Hates You, This I Know . . .

Doug Chaplain, A.K.A Clayboy, has recently shared five things which he finds deeply De-Christian. I am hesitant about one of the issues he has listed. Doug writes:

God hates sin. He may love you, but he hates sin even more, and unless you do exactly what he says (and only if you’re one of the lucky elect ones) you will burn for ever in eternal torment. God loves you, but he really, really hates sin. The concentration of the Church on God’s hatred of sin, and Augustine’s ghastly massa damnata theory of humanity, usually ends up implicitly denying the love of God, or at least demoting it to one of his less obvious characteristics.

I appreciate his stab at the heresy of Calvin’s doctrine of election, and while I had not encountered Augustine’s massa damnata theory before, it sounds like something worthy of criticism. But upon reading this the first time, I felt that something was off. I responded in the comments with these thoughts:

I am not sure “God hates sin” is a good way of titling this concern. The failure to address God’s hatred, not the preaching of it, is what is deeply de-Christian. To say “God hates sin, but he loves the sinner” is to promote a false dichotomy and to privilege one over the other. As the Psalmist phrases it, “The boastful shall not stand before your eyes; you hate all evildoers” (Ps 5:5). God does hate sin, and thus he hates the one who commits sin. God’s hatred is righteous enmity and does not preclude his love which is relational and covenantal. Perhaps this is what you are saying–the confusion that arises between pitting love and hate against each other–but it seems to come down too hard on hate and to suggest that whatever intrinsic loving qualities God possesses are more important or God-like than his hatred.

Unconvinced, Doug responds with feelings that I am being a bit “proof-texty.” Now unlike some people, I believe that the New Testament (e.g. Paul) provides a warrant for modern prooftexting. Of course, there are good ways of prooftexting and not so good ways of prooftexting. For the former, read below. For the latter, see what “some people” above have to say!

Water intoxication is caused by drinking too much water, and it can be deadly. So sure, if something as basic and as fundamental for human life as water can be consumed in excess, I imagine preaching on God’s hatred can be done in excess. But something about Doug’s “de-Christian” doctrine still doesn’t sit well with me. When he says, “the concentration of the Church on God’s hatred of sin . . . usually ends up implicitly denying the love of God, or at least demoting it to one of his less obvious characteristics,” he seems to imply that we should preach God’s hatred less. In a world where sin is taboo, I think we cannot ignore the need to preach God’s hatred, and often. (This is why I appreciate Jim West’s Total Depravity series. Jim, keep them coming!) To do such would indeed be deeply de-Christian. The problem as I see it is when we preach that God either loves us or he hates us. And if this is what Doug identifies as being deeply de-Christian, I agree with him.

I tried to approach this by defining God’s hatred as “righteous enmity” and his love as “relational and covenantal.” This was less helpful than I initially thought because “righteous enmity” is intensely relational. So let me re-phrase things. The word enmity is an excellent word to use to describe God’s hatred because it suggests mutual hostility. God’s hatred or hostility toward us is born out of our hatred or hostility to him. Hatred is not an intrinsic quality God possesses. This can be contrasted with love, which Scripture declares to be an intrinsic divine characteristic (Ex 34:6; 1 John 4:8). Rather than saying love is “relational and covenental,” what I should have said is that God’s love is covenantally relational. God’s love is not a reaction to something we have done. Another passage from 1 John captures this well: “We love because he first loved us” (4:19).

God’s righteous enmity then could be understood as conditionally relational. God’s hatred is conditioned on the hostility we have shown to him. Or, as John might say, God hates us because we first hated him. And this is why I think the Psalmist’s words, “you hate all evildoers,” must be taken seriously. They discourage the false impression that many have come to embrace–God hates the sin but loves the sinner. The Psalmist asserts that God’s hostility is directed at the sinner, not just at the sin. This is made explicit by the first colon: “The boastful will not stand before your eyes.” This becomes more fully developed in the New Testament’s doctrine of Hell (which was one of Jesus’ favorite preaching topics; eg. Matthew 22:1-13). Of course, judgment texts like these are not in vogue these days, but we cannot ignore them, nor should we. God’s hatred is not the end of the matter. This is fundamental to the Christian message. “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8).

 

Happy 6013th Birthday, Creation!

In honor of James Ussher’s date for the birth of the cosmos (23 October, 4004 b.c.), I point you to this video from the University of Nottingham on the book of Genesis.