Review of Prayer in the Hebrew Bible, Part Two

Chapter 2 – The Method

In this chapter, Balentine lays out the method of his approach. Since studies on prayer in the Hebrew Bible tend to focus on Israelite liturgy, predominantly (though not exclusively) on the Psalms, Balentine chooses to explore the prose prayers of the Hebrew Bible. His study is to be largely synchronic, and as such he is not providing a history of prayer. He does aim to provide observations regarding the function of prayers in narrative texts, how these prayers portray God, and the ideological portrayal of both God and the human partner. Balentine briefly addresses how one might define prayer, and he chooses to follow E. Staudt who sees prayer as “explicit,” or as Balentine tweaks it, “intentional” communication with God. He locates intentionality in prayer through both prayer vocabulary and simply dialogue.

Chapter 3 – In The Beginning God

Beginning with the observation that God himself is the most basic confession of all prayers (whether lament or praise), Balentine moves to reflect on the most basic characteristic of God implied by human prayer–”What is it in the nature and character of God that both summons forth and enables the response to prayer?” (34). Reserving a future chapter for discussing how God is characterized in prayers, this chapter discusses how God is characterized by prayer as a religious phenomenon. The language of prayer is immersed in anthropomorphic metaphor for God. Such language underscores God’s own relatedness to the world, particularly to humanity.Some of this language is characteristically monarchical–God as King and humanity as his subjects–while other language is convenantal. Either way, the language serves to emphasize that God is “powerful to effect change in the world and accessible within the world to personal appeal” (47).

Links to the other posts in which I review this book can be found here.

The God Behind the Curtain – 2

Doug has responded to my own post about his thoughts on divine impassibility. One point of clarification, I am not exactly an OT scholar . . . yet. As a lowly M.Div student, I recognize that I must wait before I can accept such a title. We will see, come March or April, if any of the Ph.D. programs I am applying to think I am worthy of that path.

Doug seems to agree with my metaphorical use of the Wizard of Oz, so I will continue to use it. He does clarify, however, that “the anthropomorphisms reflect the experience of our relationship with God, but that the impassible transcendence of God represents the fruit of reflecting on those experiences so as to understand better what is being said.” This clarification seems to assume that “the experience of our relationship with God” does not correspond with “the impassible transcendence of God,” or perhaps we could say the God behind the curtain. This lack of correspondence (and I think it is important to clearly understand this) does not simply mean that there is more to God than Scripture reveals, but that what Scripture reveals (i.e. God suffers) can and occasionally should be cast aside for what is really being said (i.e. God does not suffer). Obviously there is more to God than what Scripture reveals. But I remain unconvinced that God’s God-ness will not correspond with what God has revealed. In other words, if God reveals himself in Scripture as someone who changes his mind and is moved by humanity, than I have no reason to assume that this does not correspond with the God behind the curtain.

Now let me be clear, it could very well be that there is a God behind the curtain who is not like the anthropomorphically revealed God of Scripture. I am not ruling that possibility out (though shouldn’t that possibility strike us as a little frightening??). Simply put, even if there is a God behind the curtain that does not correspond to the anthropomorphically revealed God of Scripture, how and where does Scripture encourage us to pursue this knowledge? If Scripture does not encourage us to pursue this knowledge, what justification could there be for pursuing this knowledge? And what is it precisely that enables us to arrive at this knowledge? Would this information not be considered revelation? Where or how do we receive this revealed knowledge of God if not in/by Scripture? All of these questions beg to be answered by those who argue that God should be understood differently than he is revealed in Scripture. I believe the burden of proof should lie with those who argue God is other than what he reveals himself to be.

Furthermore, are there no implications to the fact that “the anthropomorphisms reflect the experience of our relationship with God?” If the anthropomorphic God is in some way connected to our earthly experience of God, why then do we pursue to experience the God behind the curtain? Why does our liturgy and our prayers so often reject the anthropomorphically revealed God in exchange for the God behind the curtain? Why does the God behind the curtain become our spiritual anchor in life? Did God not reveal himself anthropomorphically for a reason? Could there be a reason behind the fact that he did not reveal himself as impassible (immutable, omni- . . . etc.)?

Doug also writes that “God cannot be acted on by any external force or human reaction in such a way that God’s active and creative love towards humankind can be turned aside.” On what basis could this statement actually be made? The story of the flood argues against such an understanding of God. God’s active and creative love (the latter of which would refer to God as the providential sustainer of creation) was indeed turned aside for humanity.

The LORD saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the LORD was sorry that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart. So the LORD said, “I will blot out man whom I have created from the face of the land, man and animals and creeping things and birds of the heavens, for I am sorry that I have made them.” Gen 6:5-7

Fortunately, for the sake of humanity, we read that “Noah found favor in the eyes of the LORD” (vs. 8). But notice, it is not God’s God-ness that preserves Noah and thus the human race, but rather it seems to me to be Noah’s righteousness and blamelessness that moves God (vs. 9) . In a similar situation, it is Moses’ pleading with God that preserves Israel, not God’s God-ness.

Rather, I would argue that God’s God-ness, in so far as Scripture reveals this to us (however incomplete that revelation may be), is in his willingness to be moved by his creation. If there is something more to God than what is revealed in Scripture, then I don’t know how I would go about finding that out. Thus, I would continue to encourage Christians to pay no attention to the God behind the curtain!

On the Abuse of a Literary Device

In my previous series of posts (here, here, and here), I set forth what I see to be a distinction between various scholars articulating what could easily be lumped under a single label, “Open Theism.”  I made the distinction between Open Theists, with their systematic and philosophically driven concerns, and what I am labeling Openness Theologians, with their biblical theological concerns. Though no formal distinction has yet been made between these two camps (with the exception of those scholars who sound like Open Theists but deny the title), I believe such a distinction to be emerging. What unites both of them is their willingness to read particular texts in Scripture where something about the future is depicted as outside of God’s purview as accurate reflections of the God of whom Scripture speaks. Insofar as they agree about this, they share a common criticism, one that I would like to address.

Of the three anti-Open Theism books on my library shelf, all of them address the term “anthropomorphism” at least two of them on more than one occasion. This term has been used historically and continues to be used to explain the interesting dilemma created by texts which ascribe repentance or the assimilation of new knowledge to God. Of course, on some occasions, anthropopathism would be a more appropriate term. By labeling traditional open theistic passages as employing anthropomorphic/pathic language, classical theists claim to redeem these texts for their own use.

I am highly skeptical of their claims for many reasons which I will try to explain below. If an interpreter approaches a passage with an a priori commitment to classical divine attributes like omniscience, omnipotence, and omnipresence, is it perfectly understandable that he should explain away those passages which portray a very different image of God. To say that a passage that locates God in space-time is anthropomorphic makes perfect sense in light of the a priori commitments to God’s omnipresence and his eternality (conceived of as timelessness). But it must be understood that what makes these passages anthropomorphic is this a priori commitment to classical divine attributes; there is nothing intrinsic to the text which requires that we label it anthropomorphic. No amount of Hebrew, Aramaic, or Greek study will make make an interpreter any more or less adept at identifying such figurative language. This is a theological observation he makes based on theological criteria which he brings to the text.

This presents the first interesting dilemma. Because of the interpreters own assumptions, such texts are not given the same weight that other passages are given to explicate who this God of Scripture is. The fact that he is the God of Scripture should make us rethink how easily we dismiss those texts of Scripture that disagree or challenge our own view of God.

One argument I have heard explaining the presence of anthrpomporphic/pathic language in the bible is that such language was/is necessary for God to communicate his own transcendence, even if in a partial way (c.f. 1 Cor 13:12). In other words, anthropomorphic language was/is God’s way of communicating his transcendence in a way that we creatures could understand. A serious flaw I see with this argument is that those who use it claim to comprehend the very transcendence they argue necessitated the anthropomorphic language. They go on to teach and instruct others about God in a way that is “closer” to the transcendent nature of God than God’s own self-revelation. It is as though they say, “God tried his best to get the idea across, but we can do better!” Of course, an argument like might appeal to various stages in salvation history (like arguing Israel had to understand God in terms of Deuteronomy 6:4 before he could reveal himself as Father, Son, and Spirit; the latter revelation, Father, Son, and Spirit, now qualifies how we understand Deut 6:4). But this I believe is simply wrong; why couldn’t Israel have understood the immutable, impassible, omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent God of classical systematic theologies (or some variation thereof)? Moreover, the verses these people appeal to when they want to argue for their enlightened understanding are verses that were first given to the ancients (i.e. Num 23:19; Mal 3:16). Furthermore, if God believed it was so necessary to reveal himself to certain people during a certain stage in history in this “less enlightened” way, why not allow those of us who do not “see the light” to think of God as he first revealed himself?

One of the greatest flaws in the arguments of those who explain away the anthropomorphic/pathic language of scripture concerns their inability to assign any significance to such language. If the anthropomorphic/pathic language of God in Scripture directly contradicts who God is “in reality,” then what do these anthropomorphic/pathic passages teach anyway? If anthropomophric/pathic language communicates the very opposite of what God is, the language communicates a lie. It is one thing to assume God is incorporeal and to interpret a passage about God’s mighty hand as conveying his power; it is an entirely different issue to argue that God possesses an innate knowledge of all things past, present, and future and then say that God needed to condescend (for whatever reason) and reveal himself as empiracally arriving at knowledge. That is, according to these people, the very thing that God need not do, the very thing that “diminishes” God. And yet that is how Scripture speaks about God. Anthropomorphic/pathic language does not redeem such passages, it makes Scripture out to be a farce. Scripture lies, distorts, mis-communicates, or diminishes God if anthropomorphic language in Scripture teaches the very opposite of what we are to believe about him.

Perhaps one of the greatest fallacies of classical theists is in failing to wrestle with a second, more theologically significant and grounded concept can equally explain this language which until now has almost always been assumed bo be anthropomorphic/pathic language. I first arrived at this concept while reading1 John 4:19; it serves as a great demonstration of this concept. When Scripture says, “We love because he first loved us,” it is arguing that this love originates in God, though it is acted out and felt humans. Though I may first experience this love in an encounter with a human and associate this action with humanity, it’s ultimate reference point is divine. Thus, for me to act in love of which 1 John speaks is “theomorphic.” If we can speak of this love also as an emotion, for me to experience this emotion is “theopathic.” This is rooted in the very first chapter of Scripture.

Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”  So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. (Genesis 1:26-27)

The imago dei is a theologically rich concept that may explain what we perceive to be the “humanness” of God in Scripture. I am not saying that God is a man, but that man is fashioned after God. So many of the things we encounter on a daily basis and associate with humanity are ultmiately pointing us to the God in whose image we were formed. Thus to say, “Men repent but God doesn’t” may undermine the very foundation of man’s own repentance (c.f. Matt 3:13-17). Why doesn’t God repent? The overwhelming testimony of Scripture says he does!

I would say more about this, but none of the opponents of Open Theism/Openness Theology I have encountered ever deal with the concept of theomorphic/pathic language.  I am unsure how such people would go about discerning what language they label “anthropomorphic/pathic” and what language the recognize as “theomorphic/pathic.”

I was pleased to find that I was not alone with these thoughts. Terence Fretheim, had already recognized and discussed this concept in The Suffering of God before I was ever born! When I had the opportunity to meet him recently and discuss this with him, he never mentioned his book, but rather pointed me back to Gerhard von Rad’s Genesis commentary.  I would point you to these resources as well for more on this subject.

In my next post, I want to reflect the incarnation, what I believe to be the great scandal of classical theism, and why I believe kenotic christology to do little (if anything) to remove this scandal.