Category: College Work

Psalm 41: David’s Lament of Betrayal

On By Jovan PayesIn 2004, College Work, Freed-Hardeman University, Johannine Literature, Old Testament, Prayer, Psalms, Spiritual Formation, Spiritual Growth, Theology, Wisdom Literature

According to the Gospel of John, during the final hours before his betrayal and crucifixion, Jesus spent the final night with his disciples. This begins the “hour” in which Jesus would be glorified (John 12:27–28). The first “teaching act” Jesus provides his disciples is to wash their feet, illustrating that leadership must be service-oriented among them whether Master and Teacher or servant and disciple (John 13:1–20).

Both Jesus and the narrator of the Fourth Gospel introduce a significant feature here: Jesus served all of his disciples by washing their feet, especially Judas whom Jesus already knew would betray him (John 13:11). This general fact Jesus makes a topic of conversation (John 13:17–20, 21–30). Jesus said:

I am not speaking of all of you; I know whom I have chosen. But the Scripture will be fulfilled, ‘He who ate my bread has lifted his heel against me.’ (John 13:18 English Standard Version)[1]

In Christian interpretation, the “Scripture” reference is to Psalm 41:9 as a prophecy of Judas. As with many New Testament quotations of the Old Testament, the use of this passage in reference to Judas’s betrayal of Jesus generates considerable questions. For example, if this scripture applies to Judas, was Psalm 41:9 void of meaning for centuries until the first century AD emergence of Jesus? This seems unlikely. Additionally, in what sense does Judas fulfill (plēroō) this passage? Is it in a typological, duel-fulfillment (telescopic), or primary/secondary fulfillment sense? These types of questions are important, but they are not the primary concern in this paper.[2]

The present brief study was prompted by the connection between Psalm 41:9 and John 13:18. Nevertheless, the most important concern in this paper is to seek to understand Psalm 41 as a unit.

Thus, the primary focus presently is on understanding Psalm 41 from its historical and biblical context (i.e., Hebrew Bible), its structural features (literary genre, organizational form), and its linguistic features. With these items in place, it will help to consider its theology and application. Finally, a consideration on how to best see how Judas’s betrayal of Jesus “fulfills” Psalm 41:9.

Historical Context

C. Hassell Bullock mentions the great dilemma of studying the historical context of any given psalm and stresses that to obtain a solid footing for explaining the context one must examine the superscriptions and content of the psalm.[3]

Edward Tesh and Walter Zorn observe that perhaps no other psalm rivals Psalm 41 in terms of providing the original setting and significance.[4] They evaluate six possible explanations and conclude that the psalm was probably borne out of a dire situation and was consequently a lament, in which the psalmist appeals for healing. From this dire circumstance, the psalm eventually was incorporated into the liturgy of the temple worship.[5] Other scholars also recognize the “lament” nature of the psalm as informative to understanding the original historical context (Carroll Stuhlmeuller, Peter C. Craigie, Robert G. Bratcher and William D. Reyburn).[6] The internal evidence, then, points to a historical context that generated a lament.

Peter Craigie represents those who argue that the Psalm must be understood in its liturgical use for the sick of Israel, instead of a personal historical context.[7] Likewise, Charles A. Briggs argued that the psalm is national in scope, not individual, because of an emphasis upon God blessing those in the land during post-exilic times (Psa 41:2).[8] The psalm proper begins: 

"Blessed is the one who considers the poor! In the day of trouble the Lord delivers him; the LORD protects him and keeps him alive; he is called blessed in the land; you do not give him up to the will of his enemies." (Psalm 41:1–2).

Canonically, the psalm is a communal outcry, and this then speaks to its shaping context. This conclusion seems to be weakened by the fact that there is still an earlier setting that precedes its Hebrew liturgical use. This amounts to a debate between the later canonical use of Psalm 41 with its initial authorial intent.

The tradition contained in the subscription may provide help in understanding the original historical context. The subscription is ancient but it is not likely to be as old as the psalm. It minimally points to what the ancients believed about this psalm. It may help understand the initial authorial intent of Psalm 41 by providing an assumption about the personal emphases throughout the psalm and the psalmist’s dependence upon God. The subscription of Psalm 41 reads: “To the Choirmaster. A psalm of David.” The psalm is Davidic by tradition. Internally, there is nothing inherent in the psalm that would dismiss it as being Davidic.

Unfortunately, some have noted that the translation of the ascription “of David” (le dwd) could be regarded as a dedication “to David.”[9] In addition to versional evidence offered to support the translation for the phrase as “of David,” similar wording can be demonstrated from the Hebrew canon to express authorship.[10] To illustrate, consider one example from Habakkuk:

A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet, according to Shigionoth. 

O Lord, I have heard the report of you, and your work, O Lord, do I fear. In the midst of the years revive it; in the midst of the years make it known; in wrath remember mercy. (Hab 3:1–2)

This is not a prayer dedicated to Habakkuk, but a prayer of the prophet, as in by the prophet. Despite later reconstructions of redaction and editorial work theories in the canonical shaping of Psalter, it seems reasonable that “to David” in the subscription is a claim of authorship. If there is no need to question Davidic authorship, then the traditional attributions may be considered accurate, and therefore be a line of argumentation against Briggs’ post-exilic interpretation of Psalm 41:2.[11]

The internal evidence, then, is supportive of a time in King David’s lifetime in which he experienced betrayal and treachery by someone close to him, and the presence and faithfulness of his God to vindicate him. This is assumed here to be during his reign in the 10th century BC. Psalm 41 may have been collated afresh in later editions of the Psalter for liturgical or national use, but these developments are secondary contexts.

Literary Form

Psalm 41 is generally regarded as a lament. Its historical context makes it more likely it was an individual lament. Laments are not simply mere prayers of pain. Laments often contours such as an outcry of pain or distress, a declaration of faith based upon some past action of God, lessons learned about God, and a statement of praise. In that sense, a lament can offer insight into a past tragedy in which the lamenter cries out to God and then contains a record of the Lord’s vindication.

For reasons like this, an alternative form for Psalm 41 is what Willem A. Van Germeren calls a “thanksgiving of the individual.”[12] If it is to be considered as a thanksgiving work, then there should be words of praise, some description of God’s gracious action, lessons learned about God, and some form of a conclusion extolling God. It is true the psalm begins with what may be read as thanksgiving for the one who considers the poor for the Lord will deliver him. But while there is certainly an undertow of gratitude throughout the psalm, there is the consistent plea for assistance, deliverance, and an appeal to God’s grace that saturates the psalm. The evidence for lament is stronger than the theme of thanksgiving.

It has also been suggested that Psalm 41 could overlap with the wisdom psalm literary form. Instead of the distressing opening lines of Psalm 22:1 (“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”) or Psalm 51:1 (“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love”s 51:1”), Psalm 41 begins with a proverbial statement.[13] observe: 

“Blessed is the one who considers the poor, in the day of trouble the Lord delivers him.” (Psalm 41:1)

However, the phrase “blessed” is used throughout the Psalms and does not require proverbial emphases. While it could be argued that Psalm 41 does not begin with the type of traditional outcry associated with lament, the wisdom genre does not carry the burden of how the psalmist describes his enemies as conspiring against him:

My enemies say of me in malice, “When will he die, and his name perish?” And when one comes to see me, he utters empty words, while his heart gathers iniquity; when he goes out, he tells it abroad. All who hate me whisper together about me; they imagine the worst for me. They say, “A deadly thing is poured out on him; he will not rise again from where he lies.” Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me. But you, O Lord, be gracious to me, and raise me up, that I may repay them! (Psalm 41:5-10)

Wisdom provides the “how to” knowledge or the “beware” knowledge, the psalmist is decrying his situation.

The psalm begins with a focus on the individual and the Lord’s care of “he who considers the poor.” In a Spanish translation, the Hebrew word dal is translated as “el debil” (Santa Biblia: Nueva Version Internacional), meaning those who are weak. It seems essential to the lament of the psalm that the weak is the psalmist and not necessarily someone about whom the psalmist is reflecting about.

Structure

While this paper will not address the complexities of the original Hebrew text,[14] it is clear that the psalm may be given a variety of outlines depending on how the parallelism is viewed. Not all scholars seem to agree on the arrangement even if they have the same number of structural divisions. For example, the late Hugo McCord (1911–2004) sets the psalm into four stichs in his translation of the Psalms: 41:1–3, 4–6, 7–9, 10–12, and 13.[15] Tesh and Zorn divide the psalm into four different stichs: 1–4, 5–9, 10–12, and 13.[16]

I offer a personal outline for the psalm suggested: 1–3, 4–8, 9–12, and 13. 

Psalm 41:1–3: Blessed is the one who considers the poor! In the day of trouble the Lord delivers him; the LORD protects him and keeps him alive; he is called blessed in the land; you do not give him up to the will of his enemies. The LORD sustains him on his sickbed; in his illness you restore him to full health.

Psalm 41:4–8: As for me, I said, “O LORD, be gracious to me heal me, for I have sinned against you!” My enemies say of me in malice, “When will he die, and his name perish?” And when one comes to see me, he utters empty words, while his heart gathers iniquity; when he goes out, he tells it abroad. All who hate me whisper together about me; they imagine the worst for me. They say, “A deadly thing is poured out on him; he will not rise again from where he lies.” 

Psalm 9–12: Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me. But you, O Lord, be gracious to me, and raise me up, that I may repay them! By this I know that you delight in me: my enemy will not shout in triumph over me. But you have upheld me because of my integrity, and set me in your presence forever.

Psalm 13: Blessed be the LORD, the God of Israel, from everlasting to everlasting! Amen and Amen.

The groupings seem to fit a thematic development. In verses 1–3, David demonstrates a balancing of the blessed environment of the one who considers the poor with the strength and sustaining power of God. Then, in verses 4–8, David describes the plight he finds himself in. While David seems to be in poor health and under spiritual duress and therefore vulnerable, his enemies reveal themselves as ambitious traitors to the crown. In verses 9–12, the case intensifies as David laments the fact that he has become so isolated that “even” his close friend betrays him. Admit the tension the Lord is appealed to for help so that the psalmist’s suffering may be avenged by the Lord. This would be all the vindication he would need.

Interestingly, the doxology of verse 13 is typically set to stand by itself perhaps as an inclusio. George Knight observes that the psalm begins with “blessed be the man” it ends with “blessed be the Lord.”[17] There is certainly an understood purpose behind this inclusio. Some speculate this verse was added by a later editor or compiler.[18] On Hebrew parallelism, it has been argued that verse 13 does not seem to formally echo or balance with verse 12.[19] Additionally, the language in Psalm 41:13 is remarkably similar to Psalm 106:48 and functions similarly as a formal doxological break between the two books. Psalm 41 closes Book I and Psalm 106 closes Book IV with the same doxology, with an expanded doxology in Psalm 106. However one accounts for verse 13, it is structurally integral to the Psalter.

Imagery

Imagery is an important aspect of Hebrew poetry. Imagery conveys messages and nuances and sometimes brings our emotions. In the Hebrew poetry of the Psalms, the poet expresses truths with images being the channel. Consider a minor sample of some of the imagery concerning God, the psalmist, and the psalmist’s enemy.

Psalm 41:3 refers to the parallel concept of the Lord who strengthens the sick man “on his bed of illness” and “sustain him on his sickbed.” The picture is graphic and is one of physical restoration, which may refer both to spiritual or real renewal.

Psalm 41:6 discusses, from the vantage point of the psalmist, his enemy. His enemy’s “heart gathers iniquity to itself; when he goes out, he tells it.” The psalmist personifies the mind of an evil man and depicts it in the act of gathering iniquity as a person may gather fruits or clothing. Man’s heart is given to iniquity, so much that he self-references is own sinfulness. The enemy of the psalmist is consequently even more devious and methodical.

In Psalm 41:9 the description of the kind of enemy the Psalmist endures is one that is a close associate, one whom he trusted. Trust and eating bread are synonymous phrases in this context, demonstrating the use of parallelism. But the synonym moves on to climatic, where the enemy goes from trusted friend to outright betrayer.

Biblical Context

As previously mentioned in the introduction, from a Christian reading of the Bible, Psalm 41 is associated with Judas Iscariot since John narrates that Jesus declared Judas’ betrayal as a fulfillment of Psalm 41:9. Sometimes the Christ-Judas relationship overshadows David’s own reason for writing the Psalm, his Sitz en Leiben (life’s setting). On the assumption of Davidic authorship of Psalm 41, are there any points in the life of David that can corroborate with the details of the psalm?

According to Briggs, the traditional Sitz en Leiben of the betrayal and sheer disadvantage displayed in Psalm 41 is that of David’s encounters with Ahithophel of Gilo, his former counselor on the side of his usurping son Absalom (2 Sam 15:1–17:29).[20] It is important to recall that one of the difficulties aligning the setting of the Psalms with the life of David is that not everything was recorded for posterity. Additionally, the narrative language may not always align with the emotional nature of poetry. So, despite the traditional election of Ahithophel (Psa 41:9), it is merely a traditional reading. Consequently, the betrayal by Absalom and Ahithophel may not be what David had intended.

Nevertheless, it is worth considering the relationship between Ahithophel and David. Ahithophel was once a trusted counselor of David (2 Sam 15:31, 34). Ahithophel’s legacy is summed up in 2 Samuel 23:34 as one of David’s mighty men, and in two verses in 1 Chronicles 27:33–34, he “was the king’s counselor… [and] was succeeded by Jehoiada the son of Benaiah, and Abiathar.” He was a man in David’s inner inner circle.

Ahithophel was “David’s counselor” who was successfully courted by David’s embittered son Absalom to overthrow his father as king of Israel in a coup d’é·tat (2 Sam 15:1–12). The tragedy is that his counsel was esteemed “as if one consulted the word of God” (2 Sam 16:23), so his complicity in the conspiracy to overthrow David cut deep (2 Sam 15:31). David, now living on the run and vulnerable, prays to the Lord for the undoing of Ahithophel. Although there is no explicit claim that the Lord rose up Hushai the Archite, this “friend” of David serves as a counter-intelligence spy and undermines confidence in Ahithophel’s military plans against David (2 Sam 15:32–37; 16:15–17:22).

Without explanation, the end of Ahithophel is revealed: 

When Ahithophel saw that his counsel was not followed, he saddled his donkey and went off home to his own city. He set his house in order and hanged himself, and he died and was buried in the tomb of his father. (2 Samuel 17:23)

Is this specifically what David meant when he lamented in faith?

Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread, has lifted his heel against me. But you, O Lord, be gracious to me, and raise me up, that I may repay them! By this I know that you delight in me: my enemy will not shout in triumph over me. But you have upheld me because of my integrity, and set me in your presence forever. (Psalm 41:9-12)

It is hard to dismiss it even if there is not a clear explicit connection.

Nine hundred years later in the New Testament, the Lord Jesus affirms that this is a reference to Judas (John 13:18). It seems that while David through the Spirit referred to his own situation–whatever it was, the Spirit hid within it a prophecy of betrayal concerning the coming Davidic Messiah likewise from deep within the inner circle. For this reason, Jesus could legitimately claim the Apostle Judas–trusted with the office of an Apostle and keeper of the group’s finances (Luke 6:12–16; John 12:6)–as the fulfillment of this Messianic prophecy. Just as in the case of Ahithophel, no clear motive is ever given for the betrayal of Jesus by Judas.

Theology

The theology of Psalm 41 is connected together by three internal figures: David, David’s God, and David’s enemies. David wrote a lament prayer to his God, who sees both his sinfulness and the injustice as he suffers at the hands of his own enemies, and repeatedly asks God for his gracious deliverance and vindication.

First, David’s lament calls on God’s people to learn the nerve-wracking truth that faithfulness to God will not always protect from the treachery and betrayal of those considered to be allies and members of one’s inner circle. David’s focus on the Lord provides a pathway for making the most important thing the priority: David knows his fellowship with God is unimpeded by his trials. David knows:

the Lord protects him and keeps him alive; he is called blessed in the land; you do not give him up to the will of his enemies (Psalm 41:2)

Second, the powerful king seems to have gone through an illness or some demonstration of weakness which emboldened his enemies to come into the light in anticipation of his collapse or death. David sees his inner court filled with two-faced loyalists, who secretly have grown disloyal to him waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves and exploit his weakness. If the story of David teaches one crucial theological truth it is that God’s anointed will suffer unjustly.

Third, God will vindicate the innocent and the compassionate. David’s ethical and moral life was turbulent. His moral lows are ethically grotesque while his spiritual highs show a deep conviction in aligning himself on the side of the Lord. David was fully aware of his sin but knew the God he served hated injustice and would help those who were poor, or of weak stature. There is comfort in knowing that even though a person may be so weak morally, spiritually, financially, or in health, God desires their protection and care. God will vindicate the taken advantage of.

Application

The message of Psalm 41 is a message for the ages. Many have had friends turn on them, and deliver a heart-piercing stab which only few can do. Intimate relationships can sometimes be vehicles for some to achieve what they want at the expense of those whom they hurt and abuse. We must have the confidence of the psalmist and take refuge in the Lord. The lament provides the language to speak to the Lord in prayer. The psalm calls on the saints to lean into the tragedies surrounding them in faith in the confidence that the Lord is not far from them.

Endnotes

  1. Unless otherwise noted all Scripture quotations are from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2001).
  2. While this sidesteps these important questions, prophecy and fulfillment are not the focus of this paper. In short, however, my conclusion is that while it is hard to determine the sense in which Jesus used plēroō, it seems likely he used it in a typological sense of fulfillment: as David the anointed king of Israel experienced betrayal in his kingdom, so too, the anticipated Davidic Messiah would be betrayed.
  3. C. Hassell Bullock, An Introduction to the Old Testament Poetical Books, revised ed. (Chicago: Moody, 1988), 125.
  4. S. Edward Tesh and Walter D. Zorn, Psalms (Joplin, MO: College Press, 1999), 1:306.
  5. Tesh and Zorn, Psalms, 1:309.
  6. Carroll Stuhlmeuller, Psalms (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1983), 1:221; Peter C. Craigie, Psalms 1-50 (Waco, TX: Word, 1985), 321; Robert G. Bratcher and William D. Reyburn, A Handbook on the Psalms (New York: United Bible Society, 1991), 391.
  7. Craigie, Psalms 1-50, 319.
  8. Charles Augustus Briggs and Emilie Grace Briggs, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Psalms (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, ), 1:361.
  9. Raymond B. Dillard and Tremper Longman, III, An Introduction to the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1994), 215–17.
  10. George A. F. Knight, Psalms (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1982), 1:8; Dillard and Longman, III, An Introduction, 216.
  11. Andrew E. Hill and John H. Walton, A Survey of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991), 274–75; Briggs and Briggs, Book of Psalms, 1:361.
  12. Willem A. Van Germeren, “Psalms” in Expository Bible Commentary, edited by Frank E. Gaebelien (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991): 5:325.
  13. Craigie, Psalms 1-50, 320.
  14. As this paper is primarily an examination of the English text, linguistic concerns as the following will not be explored: W. O. E. Oesterley discusses the abruptness that is characteristic of this psalm and the natural flow of poetic realism which “shows how very human the psalmists were,” he explains however, that the “text has undergone some corruption, and in one or two cases emendation is difficult and uncertain.” See, W. E. O. Oesterley, The Psalms: Translated with Text-Critical and Exegetical Notes, 4th ed. (London: SPCK, 1953), 1:238.
  15. Hugo McCord, The Everlasting Gospel: Plus Genesis, the Psalms, and the Proverbs, 4th ed. (Henderson, TN: Freed-Hardeman UP, 2000). Granted, McCord did not provide a stylized rendering of the Hebrew poetry, but he did set them in connected paragraphs.
  16. Tesh and Zorn, Psalms, 1:308–13; Stuhlmeuller, Psalms, 1:220–21.
  17. Knight, Psalms, 199.
  18. Craigie, Psalms, 320; Tesh and Zorn, Psalms, 1:312.
  19. Stuhlmeuller, Psalms, 1:223; W. Oesterley, The Psalms, 1:240.
  20. Briggs and Briggs, Book of Psalms,1:361.

Works Cited

Bratcher, Robert G., and William D. Reyburn. A Handbook on the Psalms. New York: United Bible Society, 1991.

Briggs, Charles Augustus, and Emilie Grace Briggs. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Psalms. Vol. 1. International Critical Commentary. Edinburgh: Clark,

Bullock, C. Hassell. An Introduction to the Old Testament Poetical Books. Rev. ed. Chicago: Moody, 1988.

Craigie, Peter C. Psalms 1-50. Word Biblical Commentary. Vol. 19. Gen. eds. David A. Hubbard and Glenn W. Barker. Waco, TX: Word, .

Dillard, Raymond B, and Tremper Longman, III. An Introduction to the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1994.

Hill, Andrew E., and John H. Walton. A Survey of the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991.

Knight, George A.F. Psalms. Vol. 1. Daily Study Bible: Old Testament. Gen. ed. John C.L. Gibson. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1982.

McCord, Hugo. The Everlasting Gospel: Plus Genesis, the Psalms, and the Proverbs. 4th ed. Henderson, TN: Freed-Hardeman UP, 2000.

Oesterley, W. E. O. The Psalms: Translated with Text-Critical and Exegetical Notes. 4th ed. London: SPCK, 1953.

Stuhlmeuller, Carroll. Psalms. Vol. 1. Old Testament Message. Vol. 21. Eds. Carroll Stuhlmeuller and Martine McNamara. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1983.

Tesh, S. Edward, and Walter D. Zorn. Psalms. Vol. 1. College Press NIV Commentary. Eds. Terry Briley and Paul J. Kissling. Joplin, MO: College, 1999.

VanGermeren, Willem A. “Psalms.” Expository Bible Commentary. Vol. 5. Gen. ed. Frank E. Gaebelein. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1991.

Rise of Empires: Persia and Rome in Profile

On By Jovan PayesIn Ancient History, College Work, New Testament Background, Old Testament Background, Persia, Roman Empire

[Note: In light of the fact that both Persia and Rome are significant empires integral to the biblical narrative in both the Old Testament (Persia) and New Testament (Rome), sharing this historical background paper may be helpful to gain a broad appreciation of these empires. Obviously, this is only a rough sketch of these two global ancient empires.]

There are many areas to evaluate and examine ancient empires. In this paper, the Persian and Roman Empires will be evaluated based on their similarities and differences. This will be done by considering four lines of comparisons and contrasts.

First, I look at the rise of the Persian and Roman Empires, then, the political and economic bases that sustained each empire. Third, I consider the impact of environmental factors upon Persia and Rome and conclude with the major internal and external challenges that Persia and Rome confronted and how they were resolved.

These areas of discussion will be considered in light of class lecture notes[1] on the Persian and the Roman Empires respectively, and the related sections of Craig A. Lockard’s book, Societies, Networks, and Transitions: A Global History, 3rd edition (abbreviated SNT).[2]

The Rise to Empire

Persia. The rise of the Persian Empire is connected to its expansion through conquest. In the seventh century B.C.E., the Persian kingdom competed against the Medes until Persian dominance displaced them. The Persian kingdom begins significant expansion during the reign of Cyrus II (Cyrus the Great) in the sixth century B.C.E. (r. 550-530) and Cambyses II (r. 530-522 B.C.E.). These kings were members of the “ruling family” known as the Achaemenid and they reigned during the “peak” of the classical Persian Empire (SNT 140). Then, King Darius I (r. 521-486 B.C.E.) who usurped the throne continued Persian expansion on to the time of Xerxes I (r. 486-465 B.C.E.). 

In a period of fewer than one hundred years, the small coastal Persian kingdom expanded through conquest to include Afghanistan, western India along the Indus River, and Central Asia in the east; in the west, their geographic control included Mesopotamia, Syria, Palestine, Egypt, and all of Anatolia including the most western Anatolian kingdom of Lydia.

Rome. Concerning the rise of the Roman Empire, the expansion through conquest does not occur during the imperial period (31 B.C.E.-476 C.E.), but instead during the period of the Republic (509-31 B.C.E.).

As Map 8.2 in SNT (169) demonstrates, there was still unrest in certain areas of the Empire despite the Pax Romana (13 B.C.E.-180 C.E.); moreover, territories were still being added to the Roman Empire by the death of Emperor Hadrian (138 C.E.). The vast geographic territory touching the Mediterranean Sea (southern Europe, Greece, Anatolia, northern Africa, Egypt, etc.), however, is not technically the product of the Roman Empire (SNT 165).

The rise of the Roman Empire is more the result of political maneuvering away from a representative government towards a government of concentrated power in one man. This maneuvering begins with Julius Caesar.

Caesar is a victorious general who desires to become a member of the Republic Senate and was named Dictator upon arrival in the city of Rome. He violated the traditions of disarming at the city limits and the military one-day celebration to show the spoils of war; instead, Caesar crosses the Rubicon river armed, and celebrated for three days. Consequently, the senate responds to his actions by assassinating him. This ushered in a political civil war, where Caesar’s adopted son (nephew) Octavian and the allies of Julius Caesar take revenge upon all the assassins and their families, confiscate lands, and even kill slaves.

Octavian ultimately would become the first Roman Emperor, renamed himself Augustus, and reigned for approximately forty-one years (r. 27 B.C.E.–14 C.E.). The consequence was the loss of democracy, the rise of consolidated power, and as Juvenal notes distractions (“bread and circuses” SNT 168).

Thus, the rise of these two empires is seen from two different arcs. With Persia, the kingdom becomes an empire through traditional means – conquest and domination. The Roman Empire emerged due to political maneuvering rather than conquest. Yet, the rise of these empires emerges from a similar source: a small region or city that becomes a dominant world power.

Politics and Economics

Persia. Lockard describes the Persian rule during the imperial expansion as an “autocratic but culturally tolerant government” (SNT 141). In general, then, the diplomacy strategies of the Persian kings provided codified and humanitarian laws, kind economic policies, provincial governments, and expressed religious and social-cultural tolerance toward the peoples they conquered by force. Cyrus II (the Great) issued what is often called the first charter of human rights, and Darius I provided a codified law similar to that of Hammurabi.

The provinces were governed by a satrap (“protector of the kingdom”) who enforced established laws and paid taxes yearly to the king (SNT 143). Also, the religious and social-cultural tolerance shown to the diversity (language, religion, territories) of the growing empire is thought of as “most crucial” to its political success since it allowed Persia stability and flexibility not only in governing but also in battle and in commerce. Xerxes, however, was a less tolerant and more burdensome king (SNT 145).

Economically, other elements complimented Persia’s political success such as Darius completing the first Suez canal which temporarily unifies the Mediterranean Sea to the Red Sea, thus expanding the land-based commerce of Persia (e.g. the “royal road”) to also include maritime trade from the west to the east. The trade routes not only reinforce the economic forces of the Persian Empire but also extends the political power of its aristocracy.

Rome. The Roman Empire, on the other hand, saw unquestioned control of the Mediterranean for nearly a century and a half (27 B.C.E.-180 C.E.) following the emergence of Caesar Augustus. This is known as the Pax Romana (Roman Peace). By the first century C.E., Rome was a multinational, diversely populated empire. Despite this diversity, there was equality under Roman law and emphasized personal responsibility before the law. It is believed that Stoicism, a Greek philosophy, influenced Roman law in its policies of tolerance, moderation, and acceptance of life (SNT 168).

Meanwhile, the economic bases of the Roman Empire came from its growing trade routes and industries which took advantage of its maritime technologies and routes, and its vast networks of Roman roads across land extending over 150,000 miles (SNT 171). The trade routes on land not only connected Europe, Greece, Anatolia, and Egypt, but Rome made contact with India on the Silk Road, and even with China. Unfortunately, overconsumption and lack of productivity from the western part of the Empire would overburden the economic system, inflation would be a problem, and expensive conquests would deplete the mines and the farmlands (SNT 172).

Thus, the political and economic bases of Persia and Rome faced similar challenges of managing a multinational population and a vast expanding trading network. They both extended a measure of political toleration and equality, and both took advantage of land-based and maritime trading and commerce. Yet, in Persia it would appear that the policies of intolerance would hurt the empire; meanwhile, in Rome, it would be the overconsumption of its scarce resources, and a lack of fiscal responsibility that would hurt its political and economic future.

Environmental Factors

Considering the environmental factors of both the Persian and Roman Empires, respectively, geography is crucial. Map 7.1 in SNT (142) demonstrates some topographical elements of the geographic environment of the Persian kingdom and the breadth of the Persian Empire at its height (cir. 500 B.C.E.).

The Persian homeland was on the northwestern shore of the Persian Gulf and would suggest the potential to have some maritime trade and quite possibly some naval strength needed to control those waters. Persia would then have some connection to India, China, and Egypt. It would also probably have rich fisheries. However, on its northern borders, the Persian kingdom faces the Zagros Mountains and other mountain ranges. It is therefore landlocked on this side. The Persian kingdom also would then have depended upon land-based trade.

When the imperial expansion occurred, trade opportunities were strengthened along newly controlled waterways (Indus River Valley, Suez, the Mediterranean Sea, etc). It may be observed that many of the environmental factors that shaped Persia were overcome through expansion as a result of conquest.

Based on Map 8.2 in SNT (168), there would be a tremendous impact of environmental factors upon the Roman Empire.

First, the fact that the Mediterranean Sea is the center of the Roman Empire suggests its importance in shaping the environment of Rome. There would be fishing, and fisheries, maritime travel and trade, maritime technologies, and naval capacities. There would also imply that the world would be more connected due to maritime travel.

Second, the mountainous European lands like Greece and Italy would also imply that it would be possible to be landlocked in various places, so on land, there would be difficulty in travel and communication. The valleys and small communities would also be a natural place for the growing of grapes and shepherding. This would suggest then wool, fabrics, textiles, and dairy products. The environmental factors of the Roman Empire would also imply the sharing of many ideas from the farthest parts of their world.

Thus, both the Persians and the Romans had experienced due to their environments maritime travel, trade, and diet. Rome however appears to have had more diversity in land-based production in dairy, wool, olive trees, and vineyards.

The Challenges of Empire

Every political system and government has pressures working on it from within and from outside. For all their success, the Persian and Roman Empires are no different.

Persia. Persia faces significant challenges, particularly during the reign of Xerxes (486-465 B.C.E.), son of Darius I, which will ultimately weaken the empire. Xerxes inherits a larger kingdom after his father’s conquests, but it comes with growing unrest among the Greek-speaking communities in the west which do not like Persian rule. The Scythians and several Ionic coastal cities become increasingly rebellious and Xerxes is forced to deal with the expensive task of shutting down their rebellion. Xerxes does so and desires to completely conquer the divided and weak Grecian peninsula; but, what should have been a “cakewalk” ends in an epic failure.

Moreover, Xerxes’ reign represents a significant shift towards intolerance, internal Achaemenid strife, and financial instability. Xerxes and his successors “unwisely reversed” the policies which had brought about the Persian Empire’s greatest strengths and flexibilities (SNT 145). The weight of these policy shifts weakened and exacerbated the empire internally and externally, and as a consequence, concluded with Alexander the Great’s conquest of the Persian Empire in 330 B.C.E.

Rome. Rome, as well, faced major internal and external challenges. As mentioned above, later in the Roman Empire there were significant political and economic problems that undermined it. As a result of an over-reliance upon soldiers, the emperor would eventually come from soldier-backed emperors and this transition did not come without consequences.

For example, “none died peacefully in old age” (SNT 172). Yet, also, conquests would end due to the overconsumption of natural and agricultural resources. Externally, Rome would face in its declining years the rise of the Celtic and German societies in Europe. These societies exhausted Roman military resources, especially since Romans could not raise enough taxes to pay for soldiers to fight them off, especially the Germans (SNT 172-173).

Thus, the internal and external conflicts seem more focused on the Empire during the days of Xerxes when there was a reversal of policies away from tolerance and goodwill towards its subjects. Instead, there was internal unrest and military embarrassment in his failure to conquer the Grecian peninsula. Meanwhile, Rome struggled with political shifts as well, but it suffered tremendously due to mismanagement of natural and financial resources, and the unrest generated by the Celtics and the Germans.

Observations

In conclusion, there are few observations that can be made regarding the similarities and differences between the Persian and Roman Empires.

First, while the Persian Empire rose to world power through traditional means of expansion through conquest, the Roman Empire emerges due to political maneuvering and the transition from a representative government to one of consolidated power in Caesar.

Second, the political and economic bases that sustained the Persian and Roman Empires demonstrate similar demands for managing multinational populations under their rule and the economic capacity to trade and connect to other nations, but each empire succumbed to undermining what made it strong. For the Persians, it was their political tolerance and for the Romans, it was their lack of restraint with their resources.

Third, both the Persians and the Romans had experienced due to their environment: maritime travel, trade, and diet. Rome however appears to have had more diversity it land-based production in dairy, wool, olive trees, and vineyards.

Fourth, the internal and external challenges which confronted Persia and Rome are similar in that are rooted in policy changes and military interaction with outsiders. In the case of Persia, it was a drastic change in policy, while in Rome’s case it was a lack of management.

Endnotes

  1. The class lectures referenced here are from Professor Ann Wiederrecht, Bakersfield College. The citation format/style for the paper will remain as submitted (cf. SNT, page).
  2. Craig A. Lockard, Societies, Networks, and Transitions: A Global History Volume 1: To 1500, 3rd ed. (Stamford, CT: Cengage Learning, 2015).

The Role of An Amanuensis in the Letters of Paul

On By Jovan PayesIn 2004, Biblical Criticism, College Work, Freed-Hardeman University, Greco-Roman World, New Testament, New Testament Background, New Testament World, Paul's Letters, Research Papers, Social Conventions

The New Testament was not dropped out of heaven in its present form. Instead, it was produced by means of human ability and human ingenuity. No disrespect is given to the dogma of plenary inspiration of Scriptures if one examines the methodologies used to produce God’s breath into written form (2 Tim 3:16).[1] It is a matter of respect when such a course of action is taken.

The literary composition of the New Testament is unbalanced in that 78% of its 27-volume anthology is comprised of epistolary literature. In other words, the Christian canon is principally made up of letters. Among these letters stand those of the Apostle Paul, 13 in all which bear his name. Among the many controversies which surround the letters of Paul, few are underestimated as the Pauline use of an amanuensis, a profession more accurately designated “secretary.”[2]

Secretarial work is one of the most pervasive labors undergirding the production of most of the New Testament;[3] it is also at times one of the most controversial issues to sift through. This is particularly highlighted in the study of the role, more accurately the influence, of the secretary in the Pauline corpus. The principle issue controverted is “the degree of freedom that a letter writer might give to his or her scribe in the choice of wording.”[4]

Although it is true that a secretary in the Greco-Roman world was given liberties in word choices when applied to Paul the letters which bear his name are authentically Pauline according to Greco-Roman standards no matter what level of secretarial influence. This is demonstrated by three lines of evidence. First, there was a wide spectrum of secretarial freedom typical of ancient letter writers which were viewed as genuine epistolary conventions. Second, irrespective of the secretarial freedom in word choice, there were genuine methods of controlling the final product by the author. Third, Paul’s emphasis on the authenticity in his letters demonstrates a high level of security precautions as a part of letter composition.

Preliminary to considering the arguments below, observe that there must be an understanding and appreciation for how a different culture works.[5] The methods of communications may differ from the present modern world, but they were authoritative in the ancient world in which these documents were originally penned. Modern standards must be placed to the side. With this one precautionary principle, the value of the present arguments will be seen clearly. Consider the following three arguments.

Secretarial Freedom

First, each level of secretarial freedom was viewed as a genuine method of letter production.

E. Randolph Richards observes that the sender “could grant to the secretary complete, much, little, or no control over the content, style, and/or form of the letter.”[6] From his extensive evaluation of ancient letters, the role of a secretary, in general, was fourfold. The secretary may have contributed to the production of a letter as a verbatim recorder, as an editor of a preliminary letter, as a co-author with an emphasis on linguistics, or as the composer free of any set verbal content.[7] Jerome Murphy-O’Connor suggests three roles, eliminating co-authorship as a viable role of a secretary and placing that as a different type of compositional endeavor, which seems appropriate.[8]

As a verbatim recorder, the only controversial issue is whether or not there was a shorthand method able to follow dictation viva voce (i.e. at the speed of speech), for syllabim dictation (at the speed of handwriting) is basically free from controversy. Alan Millard observes that there is evidence of a shorthand ability to copy viva voce for the Latin language, but that the evidence for a Greek system is questionable due to poorly preserved manuscripts.[9]

Richards, on the other hand, persuasively argues that this Latin shorthand system derived itself probably from a comparable Greek system because discussions among Latin manuscripts employ Greek words to describe their shorthand system, thus implying a dependence on a prior Greek system. Moreover, there are early second century A.D. fragmentary manuscripts of Greek shorthand available and the evidence has a very wide geographical distribution across the Mediterranean world.[10] Murphy-O’Connor extends the link earlier than the second century A.D. to the first century B.C.[11] The point is, that a secretary could potentially follow the author at the speed of their speech in shorthand, and at the very least at the speed of writing. Dictation was not a problem.

The secretary may serve as an editor of a preliminary letter. In the production of the final copy of a letter, the secretary at times, if not always, was given the responsibility to correct or adjust the grammar and syntax of a verbalized letter or a prewritten letter that was appended by the author.[12] As Robson observes:

Where he did not compose, St. Paul would dictate: this would enable him to be conversational and oratorical at will. He could deliver some portion of a missionary sermon, or answer a series of questions, or parry and thrust with an imaginary opponent in the fashion of the diatribe, at will.[13]

E. Iliff Robson, “Composition and Dictation in New Testament Books,” Journal of Theological Studies 18 (1917)

The secretary would then harmonize the quick fluctuation of argumentative paradigms Paul employs, as in the Roman letter. There is nothing ingenious about this procedure.

The secretary would likewise be given the task of composing free of any set verbal content. There were times in ancient epistolary composition when an author would request his secretary to be a substitute author.[14] In this respect, the secretary was given a considerable amount of freedom to choose the wording. Moreover, Richards observes that “a writer usually does not reveal that his letter was actually composed by a secretary.”[15] Consequently, the reader would not necessarily know it was a secretary who composed the letter. But there is adequate evidence to demonstrate that if the recipients were familiar enough with the author that they could recognize the handwriting, style, and argumentation methods and distinguish between a letter written by their friend or by their friend’s secretary.[16]

In one sense, the fact that the secretary could do this is difficult to account for in New Testament letters since there are no extant autographs. Definite factors come into play in this regard, which alleviates some of the curiosity that this point highlights in one’s mind. As Richards notes, “the letters, especially official and business letters, had a very set form, vocabulary, and style.”[17]

Consequently, certain letters already had a predetermined template to follow, similar to modern word processing computers, the only difference is that the secretary had to produce a new template each time. Moreover, this was very advantageous for the illiterate population of the Greco-Roman world.[18] Also, there is no evidence to suggest that this was extensively done within personal letters. The point which needs to be emphasized is that there were specific and genuine needs for this method. Observe the next line of reasoning for methods of controlling and authenticating the secretary’s actions.

Measures of Authorial Control

Second, there were genuine methods of controlling the activities of the secretary.

The principal controlling agent was the author who would read the final rough draft or the final draft before it was dispatched.[19] The importance of this is demonstrated by the case of Quintus, the brother of Cicero, on his first Roman appointment. Quintus employed his secretary Statius as his “chief” secretary to read the letters composed by other secretaries without Quintus’ personal attention. Cicero advises Quintus to read the letters that go out in his name because he had already suffered professionally because of his action. The implication here is irrespective of who penned the letter the author is held responsible for every word and sentiment.[20] It is very enlightening that Quintus was not discouraged from having his secretaries write documents in his name, but he was rebuked for not having read them himself before dispatching them.

A second method of demonstrating control over the content irrespective of the type of freedom given to a secretary is the subscriptions written in the author’s handwriting.[21] These subscriptions generally repeat and summarize in the author’s handwriting the main content of the letter to demonstrate that the author is fully aware of the material which is being sent in his or her name.[22] Yet, one must respect the extant evidence and note that not all letters in the Greco-Roman period had subscriptions of the exact same length.[23] Each letter must be approached on its own terms and one must not assume that all letters have this subscription.[24] Nevertheless, there were security measures available for any kind of secretarial influence and freedom.

Paul’s “Security” Precautions

Third, Paul’s emphasis on the authenticity in his letters demonstrates a high level of security precautions as a part of letter composition.

The internal evidence of the New Testament demonstrates that the Apostle Paul had a high degree of care for the churches to which he ministered. This will demonstrate what was more likely for Paul to do with regards to the type of security measures he would place in each letter. For example, in 2 Corinthians (an undisputed Pauline letter[25]) Paul demonstrates his unyielding concern for the church in Corinth to persevere to a more stable spiritual plateau by foregoing a door of evangelism providentially opened by the Lord so he could minister to them (2 Cor 2:12–13).

Again, in 1 Corinthians the Apostle Paul demonstrated his high level of concern when he sent Timothy to minister to them in his stead. He sent Timothy because he would remind them of his ways (1 Cor 4:14–17). In a sense, Timothy was a surrogate for Paul’s presence, an emphasis which is identical to the purposes of dispatching a letter,[26] allowing each party to share in each other life.[27] The point of emphasis made here is that Paul was very careful and had concerned for the well-being of the church. It is very natural to assume, then, that he would procure whatever items needed to guarantee their spiritual safety (1 Cor 8:13).

Observe an additional line of reasoning. Within the New Testament letters which bear Paul’s name, there are six letters that bear explicit marks of a collaboration with a secretary (see Fig. 1). These references demonstrate the subscription of authenticity and generally include a summary, however brief, of the content of the letter. Galatians 6:11 and Philemon 19 are somewhat problematic for they may both refer to the entire letter or the point where Paul inserts his authoritative “seal of approval” as a mark of genuineness.[28] The point that needs to be considered here is that Paul demonstrates his inclusion of security measures in his letters.

Figure 1: This illustrates the widespread use of an amanuensis in the letters of Paul. See also P.Duke.inv. 7 (AD 5/6) and P.Duke.inv. 22 (30 BC–AD 640) as papyri examples of dual handwriting styles differentiating between the secretary and the author.

Moreover, what shall be said for the letters which do not have a subscription (2 Cor, 1 Thess, Eph, Phil, and the pastorals)? In 2 Corinthians 10:1, the Apostle Paul inserts his name into what some would consider a major section of the letter. The Apostle makes an emphatic statement autos de ego Paulos parakalo humas, which literally means “and I myself (Paul) entreat you.” It is reasonable to conclude that the passage is the beginning of Paul personally writing until the end of the letter,[29] but some scholars disagree with this conclusion.[30] However, since their conclusions are just as speculative, consistency points to 2 Corinthians 10–13 as a lengthy subscription or another letter appended to a completed letter.

The Thessalonian correspondence is somewhat unique in that the second epistle has a stronger authenticating subscription (2 Thess 5:17) than that of the first letter (1 Thess 5:27–28), that is why it is treated here. However, the case is strong that both letters are collaborations between Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy (1 Thess 1:1 and 2 Thess 1:1). Paul often takes the lead in the discussion.[31] By viewing the subscription in 2 Thessalonians 5:27–28 as a final authenticating mark, 1 Thessalonian’s ”gentle” subscription receives bolstering.

The pastorals are regarded as disputed-non-Pauline works.[32] This position is based primarily upon vocabulary and style differences calculated by a computer. These differences may be harmoniously accounted for by including the use of an amanuensis.[33] However, Harry Y. Gamble has suggested that “such theories” may satisfactorily explain a divergence in vocabulary and style, but not for the “conceptual and situational differences.”[34]

Richards makes a rather compelling case demonstrating from ancient letters that because of the “use of secretaries, letters were not rejected on the basis of style analyses alone.”[35] In other words, just because the letter sounds different that is no grounds for marking it as inauthentic because a secretary may influence style. Richards also demonstrates there were special seals used to enclose a letter; consequently, had Paul not given a subscription,[36] he could have (because this was typical) closed up the letter with a seal.[37] This may account for the Philippian letter being void of a postscript. Perhaps this is why Gamble concedes that there are other things that make “Pauline letters […] even more complex than is usually assumed.”[38]

The letter to the Ephesians poses itself as a unique epistolary production in that among the writings of Paul this was probably a circular letter written for a broad multi-congregation setting.[39] Abraham Malherbe provides parallels illustrating that Ephesians served a comparatively similar purpose as the literature of contemporary philosophical schools to provide general guidance for conventional everyday needs.[40] In this light, and with its traditional connection to Colossians, and Philemon (Col 4:10–14; Philem 23–24, and Eph 6:21), it is probable they were sent together.[41] The subscriptions in Colossians 4:18 and Philemon 19 would seemingly have sufficient authenticity for the letters associated with them, assuming there were no other authenticating measures we are unaware of.

The last argument above has been the longest to formulate. What must be remembered is that the Pauline corpus employs and contains subscriptions and other authenticating items. Differences in vocabulary and style are not sufficient to dismiss any letters of Paul because, according to Greco-Romans criterion, a secretary may so influence a letter that it may sound distinct. Nevertheless, since there are security measures employed, there is an implicit understanding that Paul would be in a position to verify the letter before sending it by means of a courier. Also, he may have had confidence in the secretary’s work such as Timothy, Silas, Titus, and Tertius (Rom 16:22).

Where from Here?

The controversy will more than likely continue. The degree of influence Paul’s secretary had over the composition of the corpus may never be totally realized or understood. It must be remembered that the freedom a secretary had in word choice varied according to need, author, and document; nevertheless, the author was held accountable for every word. That may be uncomfortable for some today, but this study is not a matter of what one wants the evidence to say, it is about what was more likely–probable– to happen.

The freedom of the secretary was a genuine method of letter writing, but it was not the only kind of role they played in epistolary production. There were methods to check the work of the letter before it went forth. Finally, Paul’s character based upon the internal evidence of the New Testament letters suggests that Paul would have and did procure the security procedures of the day to secure the message.

Consequently, the letters which bear his name are authentic according to Greco-Roman standards irrespective of secretarial influence.

Endnotes

  1. Wayne Jackson, Background Bible Study, rev. ed. (Stockton, CA: Christian Courier Publications, 2000), i.
  2. E. Randolph Richards, The Secretary in the Letters of Paul (Tübingen: Mohr, 1991), 11.
  3. Richard N. Longenecker, “On the Form, Function, and Authority of the New Testament Letters,” in Scripture and Truth, ed. D. A. Carson and John D. Woodbridge (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1983), 109.
  4. D. A. Carson, Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris, An Introduction to the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992), 233–34.
  5. Stanley K. Stowers, Letter Writing in Greco-Roman Antiquity, Library of Early Christianity 8, ed. Wayne A. Meeks (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1989), 28.
  6. Richards, Secretary, 23.
  7. Ibid., 23–24.
  8. Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer: His World, His Options, His Skills (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1995), 8–16, 16–34.
  9. Alan Millard, Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus (Washington Square, NY: New York University Press, 2000), 175–76.
  10. Richards, Secretary, 41.
  11. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 11.
  12. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 13–14; Richards, Secretary, 44–47.
  13. E. Iliff Robson, “Composition and Dictation in New Testament Books,” JTS 18 (1917): 291.
  14. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 14.
  15. Richards, Secretary, 52.
  16. Gordon J. Bahr, “Paul and Letter Writing in the First Century,” CBQ 28 (1966): 466–67; cf. Richards, Secretary, 92–97.
  17. Richards, Secretary, 49.
  18. Ibid., 50.
  19. Ibid., 52.
  20. Ibid., 51.
  21. Longenecker, “Form, Function, and Authority,” 108.
  22. Gordon J. Bahr, “The Subscriptions in the Pauline Letters,” JBL 2 (1968): 28-30
  23. Richard N. Longenecker, “Ancient Amanuenses and the Pauline Epistles,” in New Dimensions in New Testament Study, ed. Richard N. Longenecker and Merrill C. Tenney (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1974), 291.
  24. Roy Bowen Ward, “How to Study the New Testament,” in The World of the New Testament, ed. Abraham J. Malherbe. Living Word Commentary 1, ed. Everett Ferguson (Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1984), 171.
  25. See Charles B. Cousar, The Letters of Paul, Interpreting Biblical Texts (Nashville: Abingdon, 1996), 89; Carson, Moo, and Morris, An Introduction, 262.
  26. Cousar, Letters of Paul, 30.
  27. Stowers, Letter Writing, 28–29.
  28. Frederick Field, Notes on the Translation of the New Testament (1899; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 1994), 191; Longenecker, “Form, Function, and Authority,” 108; Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 28; Richards, Secretary, 179–80.
  29. Richards, Secretary, 125–26.
  30. Murphy-O’Connor, Paul the Letter-Writer, 30–31.
  31. Ibid., 19–20.
  32. Cousar, Letters of Paul, 163–64.
  33. Longenecker, “Ancient Amanuenses,” 292–94; Carson, Moo, and Morris, An Introduction, 359–62.
  34. Harry Y. Gamble, “Amanuensis,” ABD 1:72.
  35. Richards, Secretary, 97 (cf. 92–97).
  36. Longenecker, though, believes Paul did (“Ancient Amanuenses,” 292).
  37. Richards, Secretary, 93.
  38. Gamble, “Amanuensis,” 72.
  39. Carson, Moo, and Morris, An Introduction, 309–11.
  40. Abraham J. Malherbe, Moral Exhortation, A Greco-Roman Sourcebook, Library of Early Christianity 4, ed. Wayne A. Meeks (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1986), 149–160.
  41. William Barclay, The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians, rev. ed. (Louisville, KY: Westminster, 1975), 168–70. Granted, critical scholars tend to discount the authorship of Paul of Philippians, Colossians and Ephesians.

Works Cited

Bahr, Gordon J. “Paul and Letter Writing in the First Century.” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 28 (1966): 465-77.

—. “The Subscriptions in the Pauline Letters.” Journal of Biblical Literature 2 (1968): 27-41.

Barclay, William. The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians. Revised ed. Louisville, KY: Westminster, 1975.

Carson, Donald A., Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris. An Introduction to the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992.

Cousar, Charles B. The Letters of Paul. IBT. Nashville: Abingdon, 1996.

Field, Frederick. Notes on the Translation of the New Testament. 1899 ed. Peabody: Hendrickson, 1994.

Gamble, Harry Y. “Amanuensis.” Pages 72–73 in vol. 1 of Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by David Noel Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1992.

Longenecker, Richard N. “Ancient Amanuenses and the Pauline Epistles.” Pages 281–97 in New Dimensions in New Testament Study. Edited by Richard N. Longenecker and Merrill C. Tenney. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1974.

—. “On the Form, Function, and Authority of the New Testament Letters.” Pages 101–14 in Scripture and Truth. Edited by Donald A. Carson and John D. Woodbridge. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1983.

Malherbe, Abraham J. Moral Exhortation, A Greco-Roman Sourcebook. LEC 4. Edited by Wayne A. Meeks. Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1986.

Millard, Alan. Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus. Washington Square, NY: New York University Press, 2000.

Murphy-O’Connor, Jerome. Paul the Letter-Writer: His World, His Options, His Skills. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 1995.

Richards, E. Randolph. The Secretary in the Letters of Paul. Tübingen: Mohr, 1991.

Robson, E. Iliff. “Composition and Dictation in New Testament Books.” Journal of Theological Studies 18 (1917):288-301.

Stowers, Stanley K. Letter Writing in Greco-Roman Antiquity. LEC 8. Edited by Wayne A. Meeks. Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1989.

Ward, Roy Bowen. “How to Study the New Testament.” The World of the New Testament. Edited by Abraham J. Malherbe. The Living Word Commentary: New Testament 1. Edited by Everett Ferguson. Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1984.

An Exegetical Walkthrough of John 16:12-15

On By Jovan PayesIn Apostles, Articles, College Work, Exegesis, Gospel, Greek Grammar, Greek Studies, Holy Spirit, Jesus Studies, Johannine Literature, John, New Testament, New Testament Canon, Translation
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The seventeenth-century “non-conformist” English pastor, Ralph Venning, is famous for immortalizing the following line regarding Scripture:

it is deep enough for an elephant to swim in, and yet shallow enough for a lamb to wade through.

No truer does this speak to both the complex richness and visual clarity of the Gospel of John. John is traditionally regarded as one of the last written books of the New Testament canon at the tail-end of the first-century CE. When compared to Matthew, Mark, and Luke, John is written in a style all its own — comparable only to the letters of John.

Of the significant unique features of John is the tightly bound chapters, known by many as Jesus’ Farewell Discourse (John 14-16). It is prudent to consider a few preliminary matters to appreciate the way John 16:12-15 delivers on the themes of John and the coming of the Holy Spirit with a view to some application for the modern church.

Genre and Interpretation

John, as the so-called Fourth Gospel, has presented itself with challenges of every kind. As Gary M. Burge observes, the study of what is a gospel genre and its interpretation has been an intense one, especially as it relates to the Gospel of John.[1] The nature of the genre of the gospel as a narrative is still in somewhat of a debate, and in particular how John’s structural stability or instability is appreciated and explained.[2]

The question about gospel genre speaks to what is its purpose and goal(s). This has troubled the academic community for some time. For example, a gospel is a biography but it is not what a modern person thinks of as a biography since so many anticipated features are missing. An examination of the early chapters of each Gospel reveals a thumbsketch history of Jesus’ “early years.” As Craig Blomberg demonstrates, modern perceptions of biography are misleading and resulted in earlier scholars questioning the historical value of the Gospels on false assumptions.[3] However, Blomberg continues, “when they are set side by side with various ancient sources, the Gospels compare quite favorably”:

Ancient historical standards of precision in narration and in selection and arrangement of material were much less rigid than modern ones. Few, if any, ancient works were written merely for the sake of preserving the facts; almost all were trying to put forward and defend certain ideologies or morals. But propaganda need not distort the facts, though it sometimes does. Of course, any genre may be modified, and there are uniquely Christian features in the Gospels.[4]

Craig Blomberg, “The Diversity of Literary Genres in the New Testament,” Interpreting the New Testament

Consequently, while scholars acknowledge the formal critical parallels between the Gospel accounts and other ancient historical and biographical documents, there are unique features in matters of content and emphasis.[5] Some students have even cautioned that there are significant variations even between the four Gospels based on their own internal agendas, sufficient enough to make Larry Hurtado caution, “it wise to treat them individually.”[6]

John on His Own

The Gospel of John bears features that stand uniquely against the Synoptics. This, however, does not suggest a contradiction. This proclivity of John to emphasize unique material does not disassociate itself with the themes of the Synoptics. For example, instead of a nativity narrative, there is an emphasis on the pre-incarnate narrative (John 1:1-14ff) serving as a prequel to their nativity storyline (Matt 2:1-23; Luke 1:26-52). Moreover, an emphasis upon miracle narratives and extensive dialogs and discourses, take precedence over parabolic instructions and pronouncements.[7] 

Despite the material that is unique to John, C. K. Barrett calls attention to the fact that events in John and Mark “occur in the same order.”[8] And while Barrett stresses that John most likely borrowed from Mark, Leon Morris responds that such features found to be common with John and the Synoptics “is precisely the kind that one would anticipate finding in oral tradition.”[9] In short, John is certainly unique in many significant ways, but it follows the same structure of Matthew, Mark, and Luke.

A Broad Layout for John

John may be divided broadly into two thematically arranged halves (1:19-12:50; 13:1-21:25), despite some disagreement regarding the structural integrity of the fourth Gospel, due to certain aporia (i.e. any perplexing difficulty).[10] Jeffrey Staley suggests these tendencies are set forth in the prologue (John 1:1-18) and bolsters the viability of the approach taken here.[11] John 1:19-12:50 (“book of signs”) and John 13:1-21:25 (“book of glory”) are consequently the main divisions taken in this study.

The last nine chapters focus great attention upon the last few days of Jesus’ life,[12] where the focus is on the “Upper Room” and his “Farewell Discourse” (13-17), the crucifixion and resurrection narratives (18-21). Even more specifically, the text under consideration (John 16:12-15) finds its niche as the last of five discourses that speak of the Spirit as the Paraclete (John 14:15-17, 25-26; 15:26-27; 16:7-11, 12-15):[13]

Book of Glory 13:1-21:25

Upper Room/Farewell (13-16)

Prayer (17)

Crucifixion and Resurrection (18-21)

A Brief Exegetical Walkthrough

This paper sets out to examine John 16:12-15 as the last of five segments that place emphasis upon the Paraclete’s role in the ministry of the apostles; furthermore, to examine the nature of the Paraclete’s role in the early church, as set forth by Jesus, as an apostolic “Aid,” guiding them in the ways that pertain to truth.

Verse 12: I have many things left to say to all of you, but you are not able to endure it at the present time. (Author's Translation)[14]

Following George Beasley-Murray’s lead, the final Paraclete passage brings the discourse to a “climax” emphasizing the role the Spirit’s ministry.[15] The adverbial eti here takes the sense of “what is left or remaining”[16] and in concert with all’, which contextually appears to function as a transition marker placing emphasis on “the other side of a matter or issue,”[17] suggests that verse 12 begins to further demonstrate the importance of the Spirit’s coming presence. Eti and all’ are pivotal phrases for they describe the tension of the situation in which the disciples are to be found. Consequently, this climactic Paraclete discussion may be viewed in terms of two perspectives: the disciples’ and the Lord’s.

First, from the disciple’s perspective, one wonders how much more Jesus withheld from them during his personal ministry. However, earlier in this context Jesus clearly told them, “I did not speak about these matters to you, because I was among you” (John 16:4b). As a result of disclosing the impending future events, Jesus observes their plight and says, “pain has filled your hearts” (16:6b). The thought of loss and loneliness, without access to the presence of Jesus, made the disciples at that moment (arti) incapable (ou dúnasthe) to carry the burden (bastádzein) of what appears to be doctrinal and prophetic significance (14:26; 16:14). The anarthrous adverbial infinitival construction ou dúnasthe bastádzein stresses purpose; namely, the disciples do not have adequate capacity in order to “sustain the burden” of what Jesus has left to teach them.[18] Thus, in essence, because the disciples are currently unable to carry more weight (upon the sorrow?) in their hearts, there remains future spiritual growth.

Second, from the Lord’s perspective, he looks forward to a future event. This observation is made on the basis of the present lack of capacity of the disciples to carry the burden of what Jesus has to further instruct them in. If ou dúnasthe bastádzein arti is to be taken as a present reality, then Jesus looks forward to a future reality-event when they will have the capacity to bear his teaching. This is one of the blessings already referred to previously that flow from the arrival of the Paraclete (14:25-27; 15:26-16:11).

The Paraclete[19] is viewed as an “Aid” in John 14:25-27 as one who will “teach” the disciples and “remind” them of the teaching of Jesus eventuating in “peace”; in contrast to the “sorrow” that they are now experiencing (16:6). And with the arrival of the Paraclete, the disciples will have an “Advocate” for their defense from the world (15:26-27), and a “Counselor” to give guidance in accusing the world (16:8-11).[20] In each circumstance, Jesus says, “the Father will give you another Paraclete” (14:16), “the Father will send” (14:26), “but when the Paraclete comes” (15:26), “when he comes” (16:8), “when the Spirit of truth comes” (16:12). Hence, Jesus already anticipates a time when the disciples overcome both their sorrow and the corresponding incapacity to bear more of his teaching.

Verse 13: However, when that one has come – the Spirit of Truth – he will guide you in all the truth; for he will not speak from himself, on the contrary, to the extent of what he will hear, he will speak. And he will announce to you the things that are to come.

Preliminary to discussing the continued flow of thought from verse 12, there is a text-critical matter that needs some attention. Verse 13 bears two significant variants. The first is the dative construction en te aletheía páse (dative of sphere) following hodegései humas, which according to other textual traditions has an accusative construction eis pasan tèn alétheian (spatial accusative). The committee of the UBS4 textual apparatus has given en te aletheía páse a B rating; meaning, that they view the dative construction as is almost certain,[21] being witnessed by notable uncials Aleph1 (4th century), W (4/5 centuries). Meanwhile, the accusative construction is witnessed by notable uncials A (5) and B (4th century) with variation, and 068 (5th century). Along with early translations and early patristic witnesses, the evidence appears somewhat fairly divided. Bruce Metzger suggests, however, “the construction of eis and the accusative seems to have been introduced by copyists who regarded it as more idiomatic after hodegései”[22] than en with the dative.[23]

Despite the pain that filled each disciple’s heart, the disciples were directed to a future event – the work of the Spirit of Truth (16:13ff.). “However” (dè) marks that Jesus is developing a new topic (dè of “switch subject”).[24] Moreover, this contrast is temporal as demonstrated by hótan élthe (“when that one has arrived”). Furthermore, following Buth’s discussion on δὲ as a mark of switching subjects, it is proposed that the new subject is ekeínos, which refers to ho parákletos. Daniel Wallace proposes that this is a more solid linguistic connection between this pronoun and its antecedent (ekeínos = ho parákletos).[25] Consequently, tò Pneùma tès aletheías serves as an appositional phrase expanding and further defining ekeínos; hence the translation, “when that one has come – the Spirit of Truth […]” (John 16:13a). Instead of the present reality of pain that the disciples feel, Jesus focuses on the guidance that ho parákletos[26] will bring to the disciples.

Ancient sources point to a Jewish background the Spirit of Truth motif. This vocabulary was typical when admonishing obedient and moral lives by using concepts that are dualistic. For example, we find a proverbial discussion of “the spirit of truth and the spirit of error” with “the spirit of discernment” standing between them urging there to be a selection of truth (T. Jud 20). Observe the full quote:

Learn therefore, my children, that two spirits wait upon man—the spirit of truth and the spirit of error; and in the midst is the spirit of the understanding of the mind, to which it belongeth to turn whithersoever it will.  And the works of truth and the works of error are written upon the breast of men, and each one of them the Lord knoweth.  And there is no time at which the works of men can be hid from Him; for on the bones of his breast hath he been written down before the Lord.  And the spirit of truth testifieth all things, and accuseth all; and he who sinneth is burnt up by his own heart, and cannot raise his face unto the Judge. (italics added)[27]

Moreover, in the Qumran cache there is a discussion of God allotting two spirits to humanity, “the spirits of truth and perversity” in between which humanity must walk, again choosing between the two. As a result, walking with the truth is to “walk in the ways of light,” and the converse is true of walking with perversity – to walk in darkness (1QS 3:18-21). Again, observe:

[God] allotted unto humanity two spirits that he should walk in them until the time of His visitation; they are the spirits of truth and perversity. The origin of truth is in a fountain of light, and the origin of perversity is from a fountain of darkness. Dominion over all the sons of righteousness is in the hand of the Prince of light; they walk in the ways of light. All dominion over the sons of perversity is in the hand of the Angel of darkness; they walk in the ways of darkness. (italics added)[28]

These resonate strongly with the positive guidance the disciples will receive from the Paraclete.

The source of the Paraclete’s teaching is external to him, “for he will not speak from himself, “on the contrary” (all’), to the extent of what he will hear, he will speak.” Since earlier the Paraclete is said to be like Jesus (14:16-17), and Jesus also said that his teaching was not his own (3:32-35; 7:16-18; 8:26-29, etc.), it would make sense that the teaching of the Paraclete would originate from the Father. As F. Moloney observes, “neither Jesus nor the Paraclete is the ultimate source of the revelation they communicate.”[29] And his work is, in part, to remind the disciples of the teaching of Jesus (14:26).

In addition to this call to remembrance, “he will announce” (lalései) to them “things that are to come” (tà erchómena anangeleì), which presumably are the things that he will also “hear” (hósa akoúsei). Some view this last phrase (tà erchómena anangeleì) as eschatologically prophetic.[30] Others view it as instructional content yet to be expanded upon.[31] D. A. Carson proposes that this phrase has to do with “all that transpires in consequence of the pivotal revelation bound up with Jesus’ person, ministry, death, resurrection and exaltation.”[32] These matters, Carson views, are the subject of what we now call the New Testament Canon; consequently, this anticipates further canonical development by the new prophetic office – the apostleship.[33]

Verse 14: That one will glorify me, because he will take from what is mine and he will report it to you.

Still looking to the arrival of the Paraclete (e.g. ekeínos), Jesus expands further upon his ministry – he will glorify Jesus. The word doxásei was often used in LXX to glorify God (2 Sam 6:20; 1 Chron 17:18), so also is used to describe one of the roles the Paraclete will have.[34] The term hóti has been ignored somewhat here among commentaries, where it could potentially be employed epexegetically; saying, “the Paraclete will glorify (honor) Jesus; namely, by taking the teaching that goes back to the Lord’s ministry and announcing it afresh to the disciples.” Such is not an unlikely view of the grammar; however, viewing hóti as causal (i.e. “because”) the sense changes slightly. Overall, the idea that the Paraclete’s glorifying of Jesus directly relates to him taking the teaching that was Jesus’ remains the same.[35]

This is borne out by Carson in three related ways. First, the Paraclete’s work is Christ-centric. Second, based upon the implication drawing from ek tou emou lépsetai “from what is mine,” Carson draws the conclusion that “the Spirit takes from this infinite sum and gives that truth to the disciples.” Third, Christ is the center of his teaching ministry, and it is through the Spirit’s work that Jesus is glorified.[36]

There is a rather important emphasis that should be laid upon the phrase ananggelei humìn. The term has to do with providing information; hence, may be translated “disclose,” “announce,” “proclaim,” or even “teach.”[37] What is contextually significant is that ananggéllōα carries an implicit understanding that it is a report of what one has heard.[38] Incidentally, the Paraclete will speak whatever he has heard (hósa akoúsei lalései 16:13), and here Jesus says that the Paraclete will take from what is his (Jesus), from where he will provide information to the disciples. Again, this highlights two matters: first, that the Paraclete will not speak independently; and second, the content of his teaching is all truth and Jesus. As Barrett observes, in John, ananggéllō (4:25, 5:15, 16:13-15) “is applied to the revelation of divine truth, and it is apparent that it is so used here.”[39]

Furthermore, Lawrence Lutkemeyer observes, that ananggéllō is “never” used in a predictive sense; instead, it is employed to report the way things were, are, or as they come into realization.[40] Therefore, what is under consideration is a reporting of the teaching and implications that flow from Christ and the Gospel message. This reporting is deposited within the pages of what is now the New Testament canon and serves as demonstrative proof that they have understood the Lord’s teaching.[41]

Verse 15: All things whatsoever the Father has are mine; for this reason I said, [hóti] “he takes from what is mine and will report it to you.”

When Jesus says, “All things whatsoever the Father has are mine,” it is in a sense logical to deduce that the content of what the Spirit is to announce or report to the disciples is under consideration. Carson again observes:

Therefore if the Spirit takes what is mine and makes it known to the disciples, the content of what is mine is nothing less than the revelation of the Father himself, for Jesus declares, All that belongs to the Father is mine (v. 15). That is why Jesus has cast the Spirit’s ministry in terms of the unfolding of what belongs to the Son: this is not a lighting of God, or undue elevation of the Son, since what belongs to the Father belongs to the Son. It is therefore entirely appropriate that the Spirit’s ministry be designed to bring glory to the Son (v. 14).[42]

D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John, Piller New Testament Commentaries

It is precisely because they share this content and revelation (dià toùto) that the Paraclete will draw out from what belongs to Jesus (16:14), and that he will only speak what he has heard (16:13). There is a very similar statement in Luke, but here it speaks in reference to Jesus as he was sent from the Father (Luke 10:16).[43] The parallel is striking to this context regarding the Paraclete, of which Jesus by implication is the first and the Spirit is the second (14:16).

Precisely because of this shared content and revelation (dià toùto), Jesus retrospectively points out that he had spoken certain words to them (eìpon).[44] And here, John employs the recitativum hóti, meaning that the use of this conjunction is designed to introduce a direct quotation and is usually left untranslated.[45] Often hóti functions as an indicator of direct discourse.”[46] It serves only “to call attention to the quotation,” thus it functions in the same fashion as do quotation marks;[47] hence, in the translation above, hóti is emboldened and bracketed to demonstrate the origin of the quotation marks. What Jesus points to then, is the role of the Paraclete, “he takes from what is mine and will report it to you.”

It is interesting to note that the first quotation, “he takes from what is mine” (ek toù emoù lambánei) is a present indicative as opposed to the future indicative in 16:14 (lémpsetai). The shift in the tense of activity to the present as Christ views the Spirit’s work retrospectively may point back to 14:17, where Christ apparently speaks in both present and future tenses. Jesus says, “You know (present) him, for he dwells (present) with you and will be (future) in you” (14:17b). However, to be fair, the UBS4 committee had difficulty deciphering between a variant here (giving it a C rating) that relates specifically to the tense of both verbs ménei and éstai. If the wording of 14:17 stands as the majority of the UBS4 committee suggests,[48] then the Spirit was already in some sense active in the apostolic circle, and will in the future be in them.

This reflects what is happening here. Jesus notes that the Spirit is, in some sense, already taking (lambánei) from the reservoir of revelation and that he will when the time is ready, report this information to them (ananggeleì humìn). There is little by way of academic support for this approach to provide a resolution for the tense change from lémpsetai to lambánei (except Moloney).[49] Barrett’s terse statement, “the change of tense (cf. lémpsetai, v. 14) does not seem to be significant,”[50] needs revision on the grounds that 14:17, assuming its textual basis is the weightiest available, transitions from present to future with reference to the Paraclete’s work as does the tense shift in 16:15.[51]

Endnotes

  1. Gary M. Burge, “Interpreting the Gospel of John,” Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues, eds. David Alan Black and David S. Dockery (Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001), 357-70.
  2. Burge, “Interpreting,” 376-78.
  3. Craig Blomberg, “The Diversity of Literary Genres in the New Testament,” Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues, eds. David Alan Black and David S. Dockery (Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001), 274.
  4. Blomberg, “The Diversity of Literary Genres,” 274.
  5. Blomberg, “The Diversity of Literary Genres,” 275.
  6. Larry W. Hurtado, “Gospel (Genre),” DJG 278.
  7. Hurtado, “Gospel (Genre),” 281.
  8. C. K. Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John: An Introduction with Commentary and Notes on the Greek Text, 2d ed. (Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1978), 43.
  9. Leon Morris, The Gospel According to John, rev. ed., NICNT (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1995), 45.
  10. Burge, “Interpreting,” 376-78.
  11. Jeff Staley, “The Structure of John’s Prologue: Its Implications for the Gospel’s Narrative Structure,” CBQ 48.2 (April 1986): 241-49.
  12. Burge, “Interpreting,” 382.
  13. C. H. Dodd takes note of the significant fact, that John 15.1 to 16.15 is a pure monologue, and is in fact, the longest monologue in the entire Johannine Gospel (The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel [New York, NY: Cambridge at the University Press, 1965], 410).
  14. The translations are the author’s unless otherwise noted.
  15. George R. Beasley-Murray, Gospel of Life: Theology in the Fourth Gospel (1991; repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1995), 78.
  16. BDAG 400.
  17. BDAG 45.
  18. BDAG 171; Daniel B. Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996), 590.
  19. “The principal difficulty encountered in rendering parákletos is the fact that this term covers potentially such a wide area of meaning. The traditional rendering of ‘Comforter’ is especially misleading because it suggests only one very limited aspect of what the Holy Spirit does” (L&N 12.19). There are three semantic domains in which it overlaps: (1) psychological factors of encouragement, (2) definite communication aspects, and (3) intercessory aspects leading toward certain legal implications and procedures (L&N 35:16, fn. 4).
  20. Beasley-Murray, Gospel of Life, 71-72.
  21. Bruce M. Metzger, A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, 2d ed. (1994; repr., Stuttgart, Germany: German Bible Society, 2001), 14*.
  22. Metzger, A Textual Commentary, 210; cf., Stanley E. Porter, Idioms of the Greek New Testament, 2d ed. (London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2005), 151-52.
  23. Interestingly, Stanley E. Porter discusses the morphological connection between eis and en, noting that eis “may have been formally derived from the preposition ἐν, through the process of adding a final sigma (ens), the nu dropping out, and compensatory lengthening of the vowel from e to ei” (Idioms, 151) As a result, there is evidence of a connection, observing that “eis in its basic meaning is concerned with the movement of the sphere toward and into” a location, “as if this were the action that resulted in the condition of en” (Idioms, 151). There is much, therefore, to agree with Barrett’s observation that: “The difference in meaning between the two readings is slight, but whereas eis t. al. suggests that, under the Spirit’s guidance, the disciples will come to know all truth, en t. al. suggests guidance in the whole sphere of truth; they will be kept in the truth of God […] which is guaranteed by the mission of Jesus” (Gospel According to St. John, 489).
  24. Randall Buth, “Oun, De, Kai, and Asyndeton in John’s Gospel,” Linguistics and New Testament Interpretation: Essays on Discourse Analysis, eds. David Alan Black, et al. (Nashville, TN: Broadman, 1992), 145, 151.
  25. Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics, 331-32.
  26. That one who is ho parákletos will come as a guide in all truth, and it is only fitting then that ho parákletos is called “the Spirit of Truth” (tò pneùma tés aletheías). The two titles are complex conceptions; however, they appeal to certain Hebrew motifs that need some attention here. Without developing too deeply some of the backgrounds of each of these phrases, John employs the phrases ho parákletos (5 times) and tò pneùma tés aletheía (4 times) exclusively among New Testament authors. However, cognates are used by other authors.
  27. T. Judas 20, ANF 8:20.
  28. 1QS 3:18–21 as quoted in Craig A. Evans, Word and Glory: On the Exegetical and Theological Background of John’s Prologue, JSNT Supplement 89 (England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993), 147.
  29. Francis J. Moloney, The Gospel of John, SP 4 (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1998), 441.
  30. Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John, 490.
  31. George R. Beasley-Murray, John, 2d ed., WBC 36 (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1999), 283; Rodney A. Whitacre, John, IVPNTC, eds. Grant Osborne, et al. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1999), 392-93.
  32. D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John, PNTC (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991), 540.
  33. D. A. Carson, The Farewell Discourse and Final Prayer of Jesus: An Exposition of John 14:-17 (1980; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1988), 149-51.
  34. Ceslas Spicq, “dóxa, doxádzō, sundoxádzō,” Theological Lexicon of the New Testament, trans. James D. Ernest (1994; repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996), 1:376-78.
  35. Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics, 459-60.
  36. Carson, The Farewell Discourse, 150.
  37. BDAG 59.
  38. BDAG 59.
  39. Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John, 490; Carson, According to John, 540.
  40. Lawrence J. Lutkemeyer, “The Role of the Paraclete (John 16:7-15),” CBQ 8.2 (April 1946): 228.
  41. Andreas J. Köstenberger, The Missions of Jesus and the Disciples According to the Fourth Gospel: With Implications for the Fourth Gospel’s Purpose and the Mission of the Contemporary Church (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998), 173-74; Lutkemeyer, “The Role of the Paraclete,” 228; Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John, 490-91.
  42. Carson, According to John, 541.
  43. “The one who hears you hears me, and the one who rejects you rejects me, and the one who rejects me rejects him who sent me” (Luke 16.10 ESV).
  44. Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics, 333.
  45. Matthew S. DeMoss, Pocket Dictionary for the Study of New Testament Greek (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2001), 107.
  46. James Allen Hewitt, New Testament Greek: A Beginning and Intermediate Grammar (1986; repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2004), 52.
  47. A. T. Robertson and W. Hersey Davis, A New Short Grammar of the Greek Testament, 10th ed. (1958; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1979), 364.
  48. Metzger, A Textual Commentary, 208.
  49. Moloney, The Gospel of John, 447.
  50. Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John, 491.
  51. Moloney, The Gospel of John, 447.

Bibliography

Barrett, Charles K. The Gospel According to St. John: An Introduction with Commentary and Notes on the Greek Text. 2d edition. Philadelphia, PA: Westminster, 1978.

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, F.W. Danker, William F. Arndt, and F. Wilbur Gingrich. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and other Early Christian Literature. 3rd edition. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000.

Beasley-Murray, George R. Gospel of Life: Theology in the Fourth Gospel. 1991. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1995.

Blomberg, Craig. “The Diversity of Literary Genres in the New Testament.” Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues. Edited by David Alan Black and David S. Dockery. Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001.

Burge, Gary M. “Interpreting the Gospel of John.” Interpreting the New Testament: Essays on Methods and Issues. Edited by David Alan Black and David S. Dockery. Nashville, TN: B&H, 2001.

Buth, Randall. “Oun, De, Kai, and Asyndeton in John’s Gospel.” Linguistics and New Testament Interpretation: Essays on Discourse Analysis. Edited by David Alan Black, et al. Nashville, TN: Broadman, 1992.

Carson, Donald A. The Farewell Discourse and Final Prayer of Jesus: An Exposition of John 14:-17. 1980. Repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1988.

—-. The Gospel According to John. PNTC. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1991.

DeMoss, Matthew S. Pocket Dictionary for the Study of New Testament Greek.Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2001.

Dodd, C. H. The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel. New York, NY: Cambridge at the University Press, 1965.

Evans, Craig A. Word and Glory: On the Exegetical and Theological Background of John’s Prologue. JSNT Supplement 89. Library of New Testament Studies. England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993.

Hewitt, James Allen. New Testament Greek: A Beginning and Intermediate Grammar. 1986. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2004.

Hurtado, Larry W. “Gospel (Genre).” Dictionary of Jesus and the Gospels. Edited by Joel B. Green, et al. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1992.

Köstenberger, Andreas J. The Missions of Jesus and the Disciples According to the Fourth Gospel: With Implications for the Fourth Gospel’s Purpose and the Mission of the Contemporary Church. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998.

(L&N) Louw, Johannes P., and Eugene Albert Nida. Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament: Based on Semantic Domains. 2d edition. New York: United Bible Societies, 1996.

Lutkemeyer, Lawrence J. “The Role of the Paraclete (John 16:7-15).” CBQ 8.2 (April 1946): 220-29.

Metzger, Bruce M. A Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament, 2d edition. 1994. Repr., Stuttgart, Germany: German Bible Society, 2001.

Moloney, Francis J. The Gospel of John. SP 4. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1998.

Morris, Leon. The Gospel According to John. Revised edition. NICNT. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1995.

Porter, Stanley E. Idioms of the Greek New Testament. 2d edition. London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2005.

Robertson, Archibald T., and W. Hersey Davis. A New Short Grammar of the Greek Testament. 10th ed. 1958. Repr., Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1979.

Spicq, Ceslas. “dóxa, doxádzō, sundoxádzō.” Theological Lexicon of the New Testament, Translated by James D. Ernest. 1994. Repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996.

Staley, Jeff. “The Structure of John’s Prologue: Its Implications for the Gospel’s Narrative Structure.” CBQ 48.2 (April 1986): 241-63.

“Testimony of the Twelve Patriarchs.” Ante-Nicene Fathers. Vol. 8. American Edition. Edited by Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson. 1886. Repr., New York, NY: Scribner’s, 1903.

Wallace, Daniel B. Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996.

Whitacre, Rodney A. John. IVPNTC. Edited by Grant Osborne, et al. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1999.

Canonization of Scripture and 2 Peter 3:15-16

On By Jovan PayesIn 2 Peter, 2004, College Work, FHU, Freed-Hardeman University, Graduate Work, New Testament, New Testament Canon, Paul's Letters, Peter's Letters, Research Papers2 Comments
college papers

It is generally the case that many critical issues arise from the study of the canonical letter 2 Peter. Objectively, this may be said for any canonical New Testament work. Since, however, the majority of modern scholarship basically denies Petrine authorship (relegating it as a second-century composition by some unknown author), any discussion which is principally based upon 2 Peter requires interaction with this critical problem. Failure to consider this vital element of Petrine studies in the discussion of any textual topic seems to stop short of objectivity. The need to grapple with this issue is readably seen in a consideration of the canonization of Scripture as studied in light of the statement penned in 2 Pet 3:15-16.

The view taken regarding the authorship of 2 Peter plays a major role not only in the evaluation of any passage but also the implications derived from it. As in the case of 2 Peter 3:15-16, divergent views regarding the canonization process, nature of Scripture, Pauline literature, and ethics of deception arise due to one’s position of authorship. For example, the statements from 3:15-16 may argue either that the apostle Peter believes that Pauline letters are “Scripture” and should always be regarded as such;[1] in contradistinction, the passage may be employed as evidence to demonstrate that some second century disciple, writing under Peter’s name and authority attempted to contribute to the normative use of the Pauline corpus as Scripture.[2]

The divergence here centers upon which argumentation for authorship is accepted by the student. Again, if 2 Peter is penned by some fictitious “Simeon Peter” (2 Pet 1:1), purporting to be an apostle of Jesus Christ, what ethical impact does this have upon the normative prohibitives of bearing false witness (Exod 20:16)? This poses an ethical dilemma, especially when the author warns against “false prophets” who employ “false words” (2:1-3).

The canonization of Scripture and 2 Peter 3:15-16 will be evaluated in 3 steps. First, the argument of 2 Peter 3:15-16 will be evaluated at face value in light of the rest of document. Second, the concept of canon and a sketch of the New Testament canon will be outlined as it relates to 2 Peter. Finally, we will consider evidence for the first-century use of 2 Peter and its implications for an early collection of Paul’s letters (i.e. a Pauline corpus).

The Argument of 2 Peter 3:15-16 in Context

To gain as near as possible to a proper understanding of 2 Peter 3:15-16 and its place in the process of the canonization of Scripture, attention must be given to the argument of the passage.

Jerome H. Neyrey depends upon a rhetorical model in order to outline and understand the flow of argument of 2 Peter,[3] suggesting that the letter is best divided into three rhetorical phases: (1) the exodium (1:3-15), (2) the probatio (1:16-3:13), and (3) the peroratio (3:14-18).[4] The exordium “announces the hortatory intention of the speaker/writer, suggests the topics to be developed in the remainder of the writing, and requests a serious hearing” (1:3-15).[5] The probatio is basically the “proof” of the author’s case which is to persuade the intended audience by refuting the opposition’s claims, thus demonstrating the validity of Peter’s claims (1:16-3:13).[6] Finally, the peroratio which consists of two integral parts: the recapitulation (repetitio) of central ideas of the document (i.e. a summation), and an emotional appeal (adfectus) to the audience based upon the validity of the arguments found within the body of the letter (3:14-18).[7]

In this light, 2 Peter 3:14-18 should then be viewed in balance to the “themes and issues raised” from the beginning of the letter (1:16-3:13); namely, eschatological godliness through knowledge, and this knowledge mediated through genuine and normative teaching (the prophetic scritpures).[8] Fittingly, this section begins with the use of the inferential conjunction dió (“therefore”) in 3:14 which serves to show these verses are logically connected either as a deduction, conclusion or even as a summary. It brings into clear view that the logical connection is “self evident” (2 Pet 1:10, 12).[9] Without laboring this point much more, dió transitions to Peter’s insistence “that the link between faith and conduct must be maintained.”[10]

The arguments raised against the heresy –a religio-philosophical school of thought– addressed in 2 Peter 2 concludes with an exhortation to live right (2 Pet 3:1-13). Thomas R. Schreiner notes that here “many themes from its [2 Peter’s] beginning reappears” and astutely observes:

Peter’s argument is not pragmatic […] he did not invent the idea of a future judgment to foster ethical living now. On the contrary, the day of the Lord, consisting of both judgment and salvation, was bedrock reality for him. On the basis of this reality, believers are exhorted to godliness.[11]

Thomas R. Schreiner, 1, 2 Peter, Jude (Broadman, 2003)

Bauckham likewise shows how this moral argument is given weight and authority throughout 3:14-18 in three ways:[12] (1) “eschatology supplies a motive for ethical conduct” (3:14-15a), (2) accurately exegeted Pauline literature supports this rationale (3:15b-16), and (3) by way of a reminder of 2 Peter’s polemic against these false teachers (3:17).

2 Peter 3:14-17 is consequently the capstone of a moral argument set forth throughout the letter, rising from both apostolic theology and eschatology. The text may be translated as follows:

[14] Therefore, loved ones, since you wait for these things be eager to be found by him as spotless ones and blameless ones in peace; [15] and consider the patience of our Lord as salvation, just as also our beloved brother Paul (according to the wisdom entrusted to him) wrote to you, [16] as also by all [his] letters addressing these things in them, in which it is hard to understand some things, which those who are ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction as also the remaining Scriptures. [17] You therefore, loved ones, knowing in advance, be on your guard, in order that you may not be carried away from [your] firm footing by the error of lawless people. (Author's Translation)

Of particular interest here is the vocabulary employed in versus 15-16. 2 Peter employs the authoritative weight of the Apostle Paul and a collection of his letters (pásais taís epistolaìs, “all [his] letters”) to support his argument. The false teachers, moreover, are characterized as “ignorant” (amatheìs) and “unstable” (astēriktoi), are twisting (streblōsousin) Paul’s words and the “remaining Scriptures” (tàs loipàs graphàs) to their “destruction” (apōleian).

The language itself embraces canonical language; in other words, the sort of language which recognizes normative revelation.[13] The recipients of 2 Peter were expected to obey these words. Conceptionally, then, the author of 2 Peter is appealing to an inspired holy prophet (i.e., Paul 3:15; cf. 1:20-21; 3:2), the normative Scriptures of the Hebrews (3:5-6), and himself implicitly as one who can identify the “prophetic word” (1:19). This simple observation must not be overlooked. Neyrey, who questions the validity of the argument here, recognizes that this may be a claim of “legitimacy” since there “is only one tradition of teaching of God’s judgment and Jesus’ parousia.”[14] This has the double effect of authenticating 2 Peter’s argument, while “automatically discrediting” the false teachers.[15] Richard Bauckham likewise agrees that the author, whoever he is, “wishes to point out that his own teaching (specifically in 3:14-15a) is in harmony with Paul’s because Paul was an important authority for his readers.”[16] The appeal to a normative standard is definitely a necessity in order to demonstrate the validity of the argument. Is that not a canonical concept?

If the author of 2 Peter is employing normative, or standard, theological argumentation based upon authoritative figures (i.e. Paul and the Old Testament) the implication is that the false teachers are not. Yet, the text show that the false teachers are so misconstruing Paul and the Old Testament’s affirmations that they are “torturing” them, to the point of making them appear as if they teach something that they do not (streblōsousin);[17] thus, the audience is to understand that there is a normative standard which is being replaced by a foreign “interpretation” (2 Pet 1:20-21). The language of the passage is again revealing. Paul is regarded as one who was endowed with wisdom (dotheisan autō sophían), which is a natural allusion to his direct reception of revelation elsewhere synonymously described (1 Cor 2:11-13; Gal 1:12-17).[18] Paul’s letters are saturated with wisdom, but his words are subject to specious interpretive methods which disjoint their intent and meaing, and lead to a behavior that leads to a self-imposed destruction.

It seems, then, that this destruction stems from the fact that Paul’s letters and “the remaining Scriptures” (tàs loipàs graphàs) in some way share the same character.[19] 2 Peter 3:16 connects this torture of tàs loipàs graphàs to their destruction as well, meaning that the same kind of punishment awaiting those who distort the meaning of Paul’s letters is awaiting those who twist the “rest of the Scriptures.”[20] Contextually, this phrase refers to the Old Testament Scriptures since the New Testament had not been collected and collated as modern Christians experience.[21] Even Bauckham, who is opposed to Petrine authorship of 2 Peter, acknowledges that “it would make no sense to take graphàs in the nontechnical sense of ‘writings’; the definite article requires us to give it its technical sense” though he conceives of other books in the author’s purview.[22] Likewise, Earl J. Richard simply observes, “that the author means to include in this category the OT Scriptures is obvious, but beyond that it is unclear what Christian works would have been thus labeled.”[23] 

From these observations, the proposition is advanced here that the author of 2 Peter grounds his argumentation in a reference to accepted authority (tradition, or standard). This authority is threefold: (1) his prophetic office as an apostle, (2) the Apostle Paul’s letters, and (3) the rest of the writings (i.e., Old Testament). This internal textual argumentation is generally accepted despite some questions regarding 2 Peter 3:15-16 and its admission of the “hard sayings” in Paul’s treatment of some matters.[24]

2 Peter and the New Testament Canon

In order to properly evaluate the relationship between 2 Peter, the Pauline corpus, and the balance of the New Testament documents, let us consider a working sketch of the development of the New Testament canon.

The Term. Harry Gamble makes the observation that if examined “within the full context of early Christian literature, the documents which came to constitute the NT canon are not, as a group, recognizably unique.”[25] It still remains, according to King McCarver, that “the formation of the canon cannot be understood apart from divine authority.”[26] McCarver argues that the initial recipients of the New Testament books could identify these works, and because of the ability to distinguish (with varying degrees) those documents from other early Christian literature. Gamble must be taken in balance with this observation.

The term canon (kanōn) is a semitic loanword which for our purpose has three basic meanings which play, as Gamble observes, some role in the conception of the canonization of Scripture.[27] First, deriving from the literal origin of being a reed of bulrush or papyrus, kanōn came to denote for the craftsman a “measuring rod,” a “rule,” or simply put “a tool for measurement or alignment” hence a “straight rod.”[28] Second, the literal meaning gave way to metaphorical usage in keeping with the concept of standardization; thus, canon became also synonymous with “an ideal standard, a firm criterion against which something could be evaluated and judged.” Third, kanōn also came to mean “a list” or “a catalogue” which seems to have been based upon the calibration marks on the reed stick.[29] All these uses of kanōn have also found their way into the broader limits of the liberal arts for identifying unparalleled standards, but when it applies to sacred literature “canon denotes a list or collection of authoritative books.”[30] Canon, when addressing Christian literature regarded as Scripture, means that these works are “the rule of faith” (regula fidei) and “the rule of truth” (regula veritatis); consequently, they are governing normative standards of apostolic faith.[31]

A brief note on the use of kanōn in the New Testament is relevant here. Its use in the New Testament is minimal, a total of four times. Of these four uses only Galatians 6:16 carries this sense of a standard rule, “And as for all who walk by this rule [tō kanóni], peace and mercy be upon them, and upon the Israel of God.” The other three uses are found in the same context of 2 Corinthians 10 in the sense of a measured area of ministerial labor and growth outlined by God (10:13, 15-16). This shows the spectrum of the use and meaning of kanōn in the New Testament and how the term canon came to be used to describe the authoritative writings of God’s people.

A Historical Sketch. A sketch of the development of the New Testament canon will assist to properly evaluate the relationship between 2 Peter and the letters of Paul.

For purpose of this study attention is given (1) to some factors which impeded the canonization process,[32] (2) to some of the debates among the extant Apostolic Fathers.[33]

First, factors which impeded the canonization process. Dowell Flatt in his lecture, “Why Twenty Seven New Testament Books?,” notes that there are at least seven important factors which impeded the canonization process of the New Testament documents.[34] In summary form, these are:

  1. The early church accepted the Hebrew Bible as an authoritative body of divine literature and interpreted it christologically; consequently, “it did not immediately appear that another set of books would be needed.” 
  2. The early church was still under the shadow of the Lord’s presence and life, and many of them would feel “no need for a written account of his life.”
  3. Eyewitness testimony (i.e. apostles and close disciples) to the Lord’s life and work was still abundant and alive (1 Cor 15:6); consequently, so long as living witnesses were available there was a low need for a written account (#2).
  4. Oral tradition was a vital element in the early Jewish culture and the make-up of the early church, and “as strange as it might sound to modern ears, many Jewish teachers did not commit their teachings to writing.” Oral tradition was important even around 130 A.D., for Papias felt that “the word of a living, surviving voice” was more important than “information from books.”[35] Other factors placing an importance upon oral tradition are the expense of books, the spectrum of literacy and illiteracy among the classes,[36] and that there is no record of Jesus specifically writing nor commanding a written record be composed.[37] 
  5. The nature of many apostolic writings was letters, not literary works, so is it understandable that “such writings” as the letters “were slow to be fully recognized as Scripture.” 
  6. The early church manifested in a belief of a first-century return of Jesus to consume the age (eschatology) had “some influence” to hinder the canonization process.
  7. The divinely inspired would speak a prophetic word, and while this was available the church was in no need of a written record per se. Kurt Aland observes the second-century church, living beyond this blessing, “began to carefully distinguish between the apostolic past and the present.”[38]

McCarver adds to this list an eighth factor which slowed the canonization process:

  • There was no “ecclesiastical organization” which “composed or established the canon,” but instead the slow reception of these works at various intervals, across a large geographical region, of the early church was the context of the early sifting process before the councils.[39]

No doubt other factors were in play but these allow us to appreciate the forces at work in the early church during this process.

Second, some of the debates among the extant Apostolic Fathers centered on early Christian literature and their authority. Gamble presents the various discussions and canonical debates in two significant time periods:[40] (1) the second century and (2) the third and fourth centuries. Gamble’s survey demonstrates that it was not an easy time for the early church. There were many signs of the church in transition. In particular, it manifiested in a responsibility that had never been the universal church’s responsibility, namely, the collecting and sorting out the authoritative documents of the new covenant. These were extraordinary times indeed.

The extant records of the Apostolic Fathers demonstrate that not all churches had the same documents. Furthermore, some viewed certain works inspired while others did not, meanwhile, some would use certain documents later found to be spurious and reject them.[41] One of the largest subjects to discussed was the authenticity of the Gospel narratives and that of the letters of the Apostle Paul; especially, their place when compared to other similar gospel accounts and letters. Some employed Gospel narratives which are not in our present canonical and others rejected the use of some of Paul’s letters.[42] Kurt Aland observes that “contemporary with the abating of the prophetic impulse there developed the awareness of history.”[43] In other words, the church was truly without the aid of the apostles and prophets, and its future would be now in the hands of the documents they left behind (John 16:13).

Cecil M. Robeck, Jr., gives a detailed analysis of another major problem of the second century, and well into the third century, namely that the early church had to begin sifting through Christian literature which claimed prophetic inspiration.[44] The early church was consequently embroiled in a matrix of canonical upheaval, but building upon the growing recognized canon and “the rule of faith,” it wrestled back and forth accepting what they thought was prophetic and rejecting documents having no validity and those which were inconsistent with apostolic tradition.[45] Gamble observes the travels of Origen, who was considerably informed of what documents the church had in its possession, and summarizes the items which lacked in the both the eastern and western church.[46]

The fourth century provides the work of Eusebius who was one the most informed leaders of his time. In his Church History, Eusebius informs his readers as follows regarding the state of “canonical affairs”:

At this point is may be appropriate to list the New Testament writings already referred to. The holy quartet of the Gospels are first, followed by the Acts of the Apostles. Next are Paul’s epistles, 1 John, and 1 Peter. The Revelation of John may be added […] These are the recognized books. Those that are disputed yet known to most are the epistles called James, Jude, 2 Peter, and the so-named 2 and 3 John, the work of the Evangelist or of someone else with the same name.[47]

Eusebius: The Church History – A New Translation with Commentary, trans. Paul L. Maier (Kregel, 1999)

Eusebius continues this discussion with another brief list, of spurious and heretical works under which the book of Revelation (some viewed it spurious) was still not fully recognized. These disputed volumes were often styled the antilegomena; meaning, they were not heretical, they was simply a continued debate over their authority. Still, Gamble concludes from Eusebius, “It seems that little development had taken place during the third century” for those works where were acknowledged are “precisely” those acknowledged at the end of the second century.[48] The fourth century would see a significant change in this accepted list.

Various lists are extant from the fourth century, besides that offered by Eusebius. The Cheltenham canon (A.D. 360) recognized our entire canon except Hebrews, James, Jude, 2 Peter, and 2 and 3 John.[49] The Festal Letter of Athanasius (A.D. 367) set forth for the first time a list named “as exclusively authoritative exactly the twenty-seven books which make up our NT.”[50] This did not sway the eastern church for a number of reasons. The most basic was that the Syrian church was going through its own sifting system and was recognizing books in its own time; consequently, “into the early fifth century, the Syrian church typically admitted only twenty-two books.”[51] For example, 2 Peter, 2-3 John, Jude, and Revelation did not appear in the early original Peshitta collections of the New Testament until 508 AD in the Philoxenian revision of the whole Syrian Bible.[52]

The early church was indeed grappling with the issue of canon for at least 350 years, traditionally somewhere in the mid-second century and encroaching into the fifth century A.D. During this time the Apostolic Fathers, as a body of strong church leadership evaluated what the communities of believers had received as Scripture. It is important to focus again to an important point, that there were factors which encouraged a slow process of canonization as mentioned above, and that early on there was no ecclesiastical government to encourage the universal collection, the collation, and the transmission of apostolic documents. Furthermore, it has been advanced above that the first recipients of the documents would have recognized the apostolic authority behind them and would have made a distinction between them and those which were regarded traditional but not authoritative.

In light of these points, Simon J. Kistemaker argues that the documents themselves were intrinsically authoritative, but it took time for the church universal to sift through this tremendous body of literature and come to an agreement. In other words, the early church was working to make a distinction between the words of the Spirit versus the words of Christian teachers. Kistemaker argues that the church was accepting a qualitative canon until it accepted a quantitative canon:

The books themselves, of course, have always been uniquely authoritative from the time of their composition. Therefore, we speak of a qualitative canon in early stages that led to a quantitative canon centuries later. The incipient canon began to exist near the end of the first century. The completed canon was recognized by the Church near the end of the fourth century.[53]

“The Canon of the New Testament,” JETS 20 (1977)

Consequently, as has often been maintained, “the church did not create the canon,”[54] but instead, developing from the early post-apostolic church structure to the top in the various councils to give focused attention to the authenticity of these works.[55] We may argue then that while the canon did not come into existence in a simple moment, and that the canon did increase as each document was published by a New Testament apostle and prophet (qualitative canon), but that it took a historical process to separate these individual volumes from similar Christian documents which the early church had incorporated into its lifeblood (quantitative canon). 

First-Century Evidence for 2 Peter and a Pauline Corpus?

Finally, there is the first-century evidence for 2 Peter and collection processes of the letters of Paul. Robert E. Picirilli has shown that 2 Peter cannot be quickly dismissed as a second-century document, and finds evidence 2 Peter through allusions by late first-century and early second-century Apostolic Fathers.[56] Also, E. Randolph Richards likewise provides some context for evaluating the some of the natural movements for the collection of an early Pauline corpus.[57]

A brief history of the developing canon of the New Testament shows that 2 Peter and the letters of Paul had different historical “experiences” in their reception by the church universal. 2 Peter was often grouped with others volumes that were debated as to their authority, whereas Paul’s letters were often grouped together in different collections subject to criticisms due to their content by the likes of the gnostic heretic Marcion who reduced Paul’s letters to ten. In Marcion’s case, he may have done more to force the church to evaluate and determine what are the canonical New Testament documents.

It is sometimes argued that 2 Peter has no external attestation until late second century AD, but Picirilli’s work argues to the contrary. 2 Peter has early attestation through allusions by the late first-century and early second-century Apostolic Fathers.[58] Allusions are different from quotations, of course, as quotations are much stronger evidence than allussions since the quotation is a direct appeal to the source text; however, if the allusion has significant verbal similarity (correspondence) to a source, then its passing reference should not be, nor cannot be, ignored as a witness to its text source.

Among the earliest sources with allusions to 2 Peter are 1 Clement (95-95)[59] and 2 Clement (98-100?).[60] Picirilli claims that there are “three distinctive phrases that are common to Clement and 2 Peter”:[61] (1) a periphrasis (an indirect way) for the name of God (1 Clem 9:2), (2) the description of the Christian life (1 Clem 35:5), and (3) the description of the Scriptures (2 Clem 11:2). Picirilli pays careful attention to this verbal similarity, and argues for the priority of 2 Peter to demonstrate the dependence of 1 and 2 Clement.

First, Clement writes “Let us fix our eyes on those who perfectly served his magnificent glory” (1 Clem 9:2).[62] This indirect reference to God as “his magnificent glory” (tē megaloprepei dóxe autou) has strong verbal agreement to 2 Peter 1:17.[63] Here it is says, “For when he received honor and glory from God the Father, and the voice was borne to him by the Majestic Glory [tēs megaloprepous doxēs], ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased’” (ESV).

Second, 1 Clement 35:5 calls the Christian life, “the way of truth” (tē hodō tēs alētheías), which resembles 2 Peter 2:2, calling attention to some who are blaspheming the Christian lifestyle – “the way of truth” (hē hodòs tēs alētheías).[64]

Third, 2 Clement 11:2 refers to the Scriptures as “the prophetic Word” (ho prophētikos lógos); and in like manner 2 Peter 1:19 “the prophetic word” (ton prophētikon lógon). This latter example seems impressive since the argument in 2 Clement is to support eschatology in exactly the same polemic context as 2 Peter, against false teachers (2 Clem 10:1-11.7; 2 Pet 1:16-3:13).[65]

In observing this verbal agreement between 2 Peter and 1 and 2 Clement, Picirilli affirms, “it is interesting that three of 2 Peter’s distinctive phrases, unique in the Bible, are used in ‘Clement’, and in exactly the same way.”[66] Picirilli recognizes that several objections can be made against his researched conclusion, but despite all these objections the Apostolic Fathers demonstrate to be a strong verbal source for other allusions to 2 Peter within the first century.[67]

In addition, Guthrie argues that the greater amount of early external attestation one gets, then the greater support for the traditional date of 2 Peter.[68] Both Picirilli and Guthrie have been criticized by Michael J. Gilmour.[69] Gilmour argues that Picirilli’s observations are not helpful in arguing for an early origin of 2 Peter despite the possible allusions from the late first-century AD, because scholars who believe it was penned prior to the second century still hold that it is pseudonymous. Further, Guthrie’s point is weakened for Paul still had to warn against contemporary pseudonymous writers (2 Thess 2:1-2).[70] In other words, possible allusions do not prove authoriship since even the first-century saw the problem of assuming Paul’s name in order to distribute their views.

However, Picirilli’s work is a response to the constant argument that 2 Peter is not known in the first century, nor quoted until late into the second. After demonstrating that significant verbal allusions to 2 Peter exist within the first-century, he argues that those who still wish to oppose the traditional view of 2 Peter must prove that “their convictions of 2 Peter’s lateness is based on some grounds other than lack of possible allusions.”[71] Gilmour may be right that allusions do not prove authorship, but he does not discredit Picirlli’s demonstration of first-century verbal allusions.

Plainly stated, 2 Peter is a first-century document strikingly alluded to by Christian leaders in the late first-century. For the purpose of this study, the present point is sufficient, though we maintain the strength of Peter’s authorship of 2 Peter. So this makes its reference to a body of Paul’s letters all the more important. It is a major feature of its final conclusion which pleads his recipients to adhere to authoritative (orthodox) writings for the shaping of their faithful lives, and apparently, Paul’s letters were meaningful in this process.

2 Peter 3:15-16, then, reflects the existence of a Pauline corpus of indefinite size (en pásais taís epistolaìs) that both the author and his audience were (presumably) aware of. Therefore, some consideration of an early Pauline corpus must be given. Some concept of how Paul’s letters were collected and then circulated must be considered. It is argued here that the process was both gradual in scope but immediate to Paul.

The basis for this belief is grounded in slow circulation among the churches,[72] the typical secretarial duty to make copies, and the arrival and usage of the codex.[73] McCarver observes that the occasional nature of the epistles highlights the point that there was some specificity to a given locale, and consequently as other churches desired copies the “exchange and copying” was gradual.[74] Randolph Richards argues that the collection was unintentional, but provides evidence that on the analogy of ancient letter writers Paul would have had a copy of any letter in which he employed a secretary, or letter-writer (an amanuensis).[75] Likewise, consistent with this analogy, the secretary would have a copy of the letters for records.[76] Consequently, a collection of Paul’s was inevitable due to custom.

2 Timothy 4:11-13 also contributes to this discussion. Despite the fact that 1-2 Timothy and Titus are often considered pseudonymous by many scholars, a strong case can be made in favor of Pauline authorship. Still, the text reads:

Luke alone is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry. Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus. When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and above all the parchments. (1 Tim 4:11–13, ESV)

The term “the parchments” (tàs membránas) is rather interesting since Paul, according to Richards, “is the only Greek writer of the first century to refer to membra€nai, a Roman invention.”[77] Parchments codices were used to retain copies of letters for future use to prepare rough drafts of other letters later written for delivery.[78] Richards does engage how this passage is affected if the 2 Timothy is non-Pauline. In agreement, we argue that it only affects the explicit claim by Paul, but one can still “contend for Paul’s retaining his copies in a codex notebook solely because of customary practice.”[79] 

Thus, 2 Peter’s reference to a body of Pauline writings is consistent with available evidence of cannonical history, the use of 2 Peter, and the practice of collecting letters among ancient letter writers.

Concluding Thoughts

Attention now turns to drawing some conclusions. The traditional view towards 2 Peter would argue that 2 Peter 3:15-16 is the earliest apostolic witness to a corpus of Pauline letters which a community of Christians also knew about. The implicit awareness that the community of 2 Peter possibly owned a copy of a corpus, of indefinite proportion, is a tremendous support for the fact that the letters were authoritative not only for the original recipient, but this authority extends any community of believers dealing with the same issues. Consequently, despite these letters being directed for an alternative audience, its contents are “the rule of faith” (regula fidei) and “the rule of truth” (regula veritatis) for Peter’s recipients. In other words, they are: normative, an authoritative standard, canonical. Moreover, despite the limited acknowledgement of 2 Peter throughout the canonical history, and some of the problematic issues with the reception of the Pauline corpus, these letters are (with the above presupposition) authoritative.

If 2 Peter is the product of a pseudonymous author, despite its ethical problems, 2 Peter is still a product of the last half of the first-century AD, and at the very least the author was aware of a Pauline corpus. Moreover, if as Bauckham observes, 2 Peter is a testamentary letter where the audience understood that the letter is a fictitious document the audience then, it seems, would be also aware of a Pauline corpus of indefinite size. It therefore must be one of the earliest, if not the first, in the list of post-apostolic literature that appeals to a set standard to theology and ethics based upon an authoritative set of works (or canon), the prophetic office, the Old Testament, and Pauline literature. Even then, when viewed as a late first-century AD document, canonicity is a major and early grounding point in the minds of some in the early church, who were living in the shadows of the apostolic authority. This observation also implies that grounding teaching upon an authoritative group of documents is not strange but expected.

In summary, the meaning of 2 Peter 3:15-16 demonstrates a strong appeal to an authoritative body of literature based on the prophetic-apostolic office, the Old Testament, and Pauline literature. The concept of canon and a sketch of the history of the New Testament canon highlighted the complex matrix the Apostolic Fathers found themselves in. In this setting, the process was slow and developed differently in the east and the west. The unique vocabulary of 2 Peter is arguably found in the first century A.D., and despite some criticism concerning the implications which stem from this fact, a first century placement is a strong viable case. The Pauline corpus grew very naturally as both a quick and gradual process, by means of slow copying and exchange of the churches, the work of a secretary who would make multiple copies for the author and amanuensis, and the usage of a codex (membránas) made it available for a collection to exist and grew as Paul produced more letters. All these factors are particularly important when evaluating 2 Peter 3:15-16 and the process of canonization.

Endnotes

  1. Raymond C. Kelcy, The Letters of Peter and Jude (Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1987), 109-16; Donald Guthrie, New Testament Introduction, 4th ed. (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1990), 812.
  2. Fred B. Craddock, First and Second Peter and Jude (Louisville, KY: WJK, 1993), 122; Archibald M. Hunter, Introducing the New Testament, 3rd edition (Philadelphia, PA:  Westminster, 1972), 186.
  3. Despite scholars showing variation in the structural outline of 2 Peter, on the main there is agreement on in the thought outline of the document. Thomas R. Schreiner, 1, 2 Peter, Jude (Nashville, TN: Broadman, 2003), 282; Richard J. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter (Waco, TX: Word Publishing, 1983), 135; Michael Green, 2 Peter and Jude (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002), 65-66; Simon J. Kistemaker, Exposition of the Epistles of Peter and of the Epistle of Jude (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1987), 232-33.
  4. Jerome H. Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (New York, NY: Doubleday, 1993), 113-18.
  5. Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude, 113.
  6. Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude, 116.
  7. Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude, 117-18.
  8. Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude, 247.
  9. L&N 89.47.
  10. D. Edmond Hiebert, “Selected Studies from 2 Peter Part 4: Directives for Living in Dangerous Days: An Exposition of 2 Peter 3:14-18a,” BSac 141 (1984): 331.
  11. Schreiner, 1, 2 Peter, Jude, 393; cf. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 334; Luke T. Johnson, The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress, 1986), 449.
  12. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 334-37.
  13. Hiebert, “2 Peter 3:14-18a,” 336.
  14. Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude, 250.
  15. Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude, 250.
  16. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 328.
  17. BDAG 948.
  18. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 329.
  19. Hiebert, “2 Peter 3:14-18a,” 336; Schreiner, 1, 2 Peter, Jude, 397-98; L&N 1:61.
  20. BDAG 602; W. Günther H. Krienke, “Remnant, Leave,” NIDNTT, 3:252.
  21. Kelcy, Letters of Peter and Jude, 162; Tord Fornberg, An Early Church in a Pluralistic Society: A Study of 2 Peter, trans. Jean Gray (Sweden: Boktryckeri, 1977), 22; Krienke, “Remnant, Leave,” 252.
  22. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 333.
  23. Earl J. Richard, Reading 1 Peter, Jude, and 2 Peter: A Literary and Theological Commentary (Macon, GA: Smyth, 2000), 390.
  24. Johnson, Writings of the New Testament, 443-44; Richard, Reading 1 Peter, Jude, and 2 Peter, 388; Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude, 250.
  25. Harry Y. Gamble, The New Testament Canon: Its Making and Meaning (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress, 1985), 13.
  26. King McCarver, “Why are These Books in the Bible? – New Testament” in God’s Word for Today’s World: The Biblical Doctrine of Scripture, Don Jackson, et al. (Kosciusko, MS: Magnolia Bible College, 1986), 89.
  27. Gamble, New Testament Canon, 15-18; Hermann W. Beyer, “kanōn,” TDNT 3:596-602; BDAG 507-08; L&N 33.335, 80.2; H. G. Liddell, An Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon, Logos electronic ed. (Oak Harbor, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1996), 399.
  28. Gamble, New Testament Canon, 15; M-M 320.
  29. Gamble, New Testament Canon, 15.
  30. Richard N. Soulen and R. Kendall Soulen, Handbook of Biblical Criticism, 3rd ed. (Louisville, KY: WJK, 2001), 29.
  31. Cecil M. Robeck, Jr., “Canon, Regulae Fidei, and Continuing Revelation in the Early Church” in Church, Word, and Spirit:  Historical and Theological Essays in Honor of Geoffrey W. Bromiley, eds. James E. Bradley and Richard A. Muller (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1987), 70; Gamble, New Testament Canon, 16-17; Linda L. Belleville, “Canon of the New Testament” in Foundations for Biblical Interpretation, eds. David S. Dockery, et al. (Nashville, TN: Broadman, 1994), 375; Thomas D. Lea and David Alan Black, The New Testament: Its Background and Message, 2d ed. (Nashville, TN: Broadman, 2003), 70-71.
  32. Dowell Flatt, “Why Twenty Seven New Testament Books?” in Settled in Heaven:  Applying the Bible to Life, ed. David Lipe (Henderson, TN: Freed-Hardeman University Press, 1996), 138-40.
  33. Gamble, New Testament Canon, 23-56.
  34. Flatt, “Why Twenty Seven New Testament Books?” 139; James A. Brooks, Broadman Bible Commentary, ed. Clifton J. Allen (Nashville, TN: Broadman, 1969), 8:18-21.
  35. Paul L. Maier, trans. Eusebius: The Church History – A New Translation with Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Kregel, 1999), 127.
  36. Alan Millard, Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus (Sheffield, England: Sheffield, 2001), 154-84.
  37. Flatt, “Why Twenty Seven New Testament Books?” 139; D. I. Lanslots, The Primitive Church: The Church in the Days of the Apostles (1926; repr., Rockford, IL: Tan, 1980), 102-09.
  38. Kurt Aland, “The Problem of Anonymity and Pseudonymity in Christian Literature of the First Two Centuries,” JTS 12 (1961): 47.
  39. McCarver, “Why are These Books in the Bible?” 88; Kistemaker, “The Canon of the New Testament,” JETS 20 (1977): 13.
  40. Gamble, New Testament Canon, 24-56.
  41. Montague Rhodes James, trans., The Apocryphal New Testament (Oxford: Clarendon, 1969), xii-xxii.
  42. Gamble, New Testament Canon, 28-34, 44-46.
  43. Aland, “The Problem of Anonymity,” 47.
  44. Robeck, “Canon, Regulae Fidei, and Continuing Revelation,” 72-74.
  45. Robeck, “Canon, Regulae Fidei, and Continuing Revelation,” 75-86.
  46. Robeck, “Canon, Regulae Fidei, and Continuing Revelation,” 50-53.
  47. Maier, Eusebius, 115.
  48. Gamble, New Testament Canon, 53.
  49. Gamble, New Testament Canon, 54.
  50. Gamble, New Testament Canon, 54.
  51. Gamble, New Testament Canon, 55.
  52. Frederick F. Bruce, The Books and the Parchments: Some Chapters on the Transmission of the Bible, 3rd ed. (Westwood, NJ: Revell, 1963), 200.
  53. Kistemaker, “The Canon of the New Testament,” 13.
  54. Kistemaker, “The Canon of the New Testament,” 13; McCarver, “Why are These Books in the Bible?” 88-90; Flatt, “Why Twenty Seven New Testament Books?” 140-42.
  55. Kistemaker, “The Canon of the New Testament,” 13.
  56. Robert E. Picirilli, “Allusions to 2 Peter in the Apostolic Fathers,” JSNT 33 (1988): 58-74.
  57. E. Randolph Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection of Paul’s Letters,” BBR 8 (1998): 155-62.
  58. Picirilli, “Allusions to 2 Peter,” 57-83.
  59. J. B. Lightfoot and J. R. Harmer, trans., The Apostolic Fathers, 2d edition, ed. Michael W. Holmes (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2000), 25.
  60. Lightfoot and Harmer, Apostolic Fathers, 65-67.
  61. Picirilli, “Allusions to 2 Peter,” 60-61.
  62. Lightfoot and Harmer, Apostolic Fathers, 33.
  63. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 218.
  64. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 242.
  65. Picirilli, “Allusions to 2 Peter,” 60-61.
  66. Picirilli, “Allusions to 2 Peter,” 60.
  67. Picirilli, “Allusions to 2 Peter,” 74-77.
  68. Guthrie, Introduction, 810-11.
  69. Michael J. Gilmour, “Reflections on the Authorship of 2 Peter,” EvQ 73 (2001): 298-99.
  70. Gilmour, “Authorship of 2 Peter,” 299.
  71. Picirilli, “Allusions to 2 Peter,” 75.
  72. McCarver, “Why are These Books in the Bible?” 88.
  73. Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection,” 155-66.
  74. McCarver, “Why are These Books in the Bible?” 88.
  75. Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection,” 158-59.
  76. Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection,” 156.
  77. Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection,” 161.
  78. Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection,” 161.
  79. Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection,” 159-62.
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Ascertaining the Date of Daniel: A First Look

On By Jovan PayesIn Biblical Criticism, College Work, Daniel, Essays, FHU, Freed-Hardeman University, Major Prophets, Old Testament, Technical Studies
college papers

Discussion concerning the date for the composition of Daniel is controversial. The traditional view is that it is of 6th century B.C. origin, while the critical view argues for a late 2nd century B.C. time frame of completion. On the surface, it seems that critical scholars have removed any thought of retaining a traditional view of the composition of the book of Daniel. Supporters of the traditional view, however, have responded in numerous scholarly ways.

Yet, it appears to be the case that the majority of biblical scholars, i.e. the critics, agree that the traditional view is saturated with egregious errors (interpretive and historical) and consequently is not a feasible alternative. Traditionalists have combated further by exploiting the weaknesses of critical approaches to date the composition of Daniel. The controversy, though, still wages and the effects of the implications of each model are felt in biblical academia.

Two Basic Approaches

The roots of each model run deep into certain presuppositions relative to supernaturalism. While each view will be given consideration below, here it seems necessary to make mention of this because it plays such a vital role in evaluating the available evidence. Generally speaking, the critical approach brings to the evaluation of the evidence of the supposition that the production of Biblical books is solely the product of human enterprise to the exclusion of Divine guidance and revelatory intervention. This view is in practical terms, deistic. Meanwhile, traditionalists usually believe that Divine guidance and revelatory intervention coupled with the utility of man are possible and the means by which God makes his will known to humanity.

Issues such as predictive prophecy and inspiration are therefore readily accepted by traditionalists, but this is denied by the critics, for they take a naturalistic (or rationalistic) approach because they view supernatural intervention as incapable of occurring. The two approaches are diametrically opposed. Ultimately, one is false and the other is the correct approach. The proposition under discussion here is that although the critical position of a late Maccabean period for the date of composition of the book of Daniel is predominately accepted by biblical scholars, the traditional position that the book of Daniel is of an early 6th century B.C. composition is adequately supported by the linguistic and historical evidence.

The approaches for dating the composition of the book of Daniel are composed of numerous methods of argumentation, with varying degrees of complexity. In general, though, the two basic approaches can be condensed with some generalizations.

The Traditional Approach

The traditional approach for ascertaining the date of composition for the book of Daniel argues that the book is a literary product of the 6th century B.C., composed by Daniel (the book’s hero) by the inspiration and guidance of the God of Israel. According to this approach, the story is both a historical and a prophetic document; consequently, it is not a mythological book of imagery. The historical setting of the book and its composition, then, is in Babylonian captivity and subsequently into the early years of Medo-Persian imperial rule (c. 603-536 BC).[1]

This view is the earliest extant view held between Hebrew and Christian writings to date. Harold Ginsberg, who is in favor of the critical approach, concedes in the Encyclopaedia Judaica that the traditional view is the earliest position concerning the date of composition for Daniel. He writes:

Both the rabbis of the Talmudic Age and the Christian Church Fathers accepted the book’s own statements that the four apocalypses of Daniel B [chapters 7-12] were written by a man named Daniel in the last years of the Babylonian Age and in the first ones of the Persian Age, […] and they did not question the historicity of any part of Daniel A [chapters 1-6].[2]

Harold Louis Ginsberg, “Daniel, Book of,” in Encyclopaedia Judaica

Even though no other position is known earlier than the Hebrew tradition, it has not remained unchallenged by critical scholars. Raymond Dillard and Tremper Longman, however, observe that it was not until the 1900s that things changed because up until the 20th century the book of Daniel was viewed as being composed by the historical Daniel (statesman and prophet of God) who ministered prominently in the 500s B.C. and who revealed the future political progression of four kingdoms and the implementation of God’s kingdom.[3]

The Critical Approach

In contradistinction to the traditional approach stands the critical approach for ascertaining the date for the composition of Daniel. As the antagonist to the traditional view, the critical position affirms that the book of Daniel is a rather late production by some unknown author or editor of the 2nd century B.C. Critical scholars view the book of Daniel as a pseudepigraph (“false” writing)[4] and consequently cannot have been written by Daniel nor capable to predict the future, because the critical approach does not believe that predictive prophecy can occur.

Instead of relating past and future events, Daniel was written to inflame the patriotic muscles of the Israelites in order to confront Antiochus IV Epiphanes (a Seleucid) and his people from Syria for Antiochus’ desecration of the temple in Jerusalem. The prophecies are said to be written: “after the event” (vaticinium ex eventu).

The earliest denial of the traditional view is found in the writings of a Neoplatonic philosopher named Porphyry. About 2 centuries after Jesus Christ had described Daniel as “the prophet” (Matt 23:15), Porphyry put his stylus to the maximum level of labor and produced a 15-volume work entitled, Against the Christians.[5] According to Jerome’s commentary on Daniel, which is the only source that reproduces Porphyry’s arguments, in his 12th volume Porphyry attacks “the prophecy of Daniel” and affirms that there are characteristics of the book which betray a late 2nd century B.C. period for composition.[6]

Prominent critical scholar J.J. Collins observes that while Porphyry’s argument was resisted for about a millennium, modern critics from the 18th century to today acknowledge their “validity” and his “insight.”[7] Yet those who still resist Porphyry’s work do so principally on the grounds that his reasoning is based upon the a priori supposition that predictive prophecy is impossible.[8]

The Present Approach

With these two approaches considered, a working knowledge of both the approach to the book and the evaluation of evidence is acquired. The burden to provide adequate evidence to substantiate the claims made above falls upon the shoulders of each approach. Majority consensus is not to be confused with absolute certainty, and the term “conservative approach” need not blind one’s eye to discernment in the evaluation of the data. The case must stand based on the evidence available and proper critique of what it means and substantiates. This shall presently be done.

There are numerous avenues of approaches to dating the materials in the book of Daniel. For example, the earliest extant tradition of the date of composition can greatly aid in approaching the problem, however, there are more issues to deal with than just tradition. As is typical with the critical approach, various issues are raised dealing with the history of both the text and its composition, linguistic analysis, theological development, and any possible discrepant exegetical material. Edwin Yamauchi has discussed some of these issues in 1980.[9] The scope of this discussion is large, so attention will be given to the issues relative to linguistics and history.

Linguistic Concerns

Linguistic analysis is a broad field of analysis that looks at the languages employed, the grammar used, and the literary genre implemented to carry out the production of the document. As in practically every book placed under the scalpel of criticism one of the areas of discussion and controversy is the literary characteristics of the given book. Daniel is no exception.

Hebrew, Aramaic, and Loan Words

Critics argue that the language and stylistic materials in Daniel betray a late date. In staunch disagreement stand scholars taking the traditional approach, asserting that the literary content of Daniel is best explained by an early date. The last century and a half (roughly) reflect this debate. It seems evident, however, that the growing data relative to the literary content of Daniel weighs in strongly for an early date. In 1976, Bruce K. Waltke observed:

From [S.R.] Driver’s classic statement of the linguistic evidence in 1897 to the commentary by [Norman W.] Porteous in 1965, there has been no reappraisal of the evidence by the literary critics of Daniel in spite of the increasing mass of evidence that the language of Daniel can no longer be regarded as belonging to the second century B.C.[10]

Waltke, “The Date of the Book of Daniel” BSac 133 (1976)

It is, therefore, important to analyze this line of reasoning to observe the nature of the evidence and make a conclusion as to what the details suggest in order to make an educated assertion. Two major areas of contention are the mixture of Hebrew (Dan 1:1-2:4a; 8:1-12) and Aramaic (2:4b-7:28) languages in the book of Daniel and the loan words from the Persian and Greek languages.

Hebrew and Aramaic Composition

The book of Daniel is the product of two languages; Hebrew and Aramaic. This book does not stand alone in having this admixture of languages, however, the book of Ezra is of similar composition (Aramaic sections Ezra 4:8-6:18; 7:12-26).[11]

4QDan

Critical scholars allege that the book was originally composed in Aramaic and later the present transitions (1:1-2:4a and 8:1-12) were translated into Hebrew.[12] Neil R. Lightfoot remarks that the Hebrew to Aramaic and Aramaic to Hebrew sections in Daniel has been confirmed by the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS).[13] While Lightfoot does not identify the specific fragments, Gerhard Hasel identifies them in his work as 1QDana (Dan 2:2-6), 4QDana (7:25-8:5), 4QDanb (Dan 7:26-8:1-8).[14] Overall, “we have at our disposal from the Dead Sea scrolls parts of all chapters, except Daniel 9 and 12.”[15] This is striking information because when the scrolls were discovered one of the main questions was concerning what precise sections were preserved.

Moreover, the earliest extant text before the DSS was the Masoretic Text (MT c. A.D. 980), the accuracy of which was seriously challenged by critical scholars because of the great gap between the MT and the autographs. The transitions in Daniel received equal criticism; however, there is no reason to argue against them, except if one is biased toward the critical view, that the Hebrew and Aramaic sections are authentic. The authenticity of the composition of Daniel argues strongly that the book is one whole unit.[16]

Critics typically argue that Daniel is the result of a long process of composition. They argue that Daniel A, that is Daniel 1-6, is the first and oldest unit of the book, and Daniel B, that is Daniel 7-12, is principally of late authorship or redaction.[17] The critical scholar John G. Gammie has argued that there have been three stages in the growth of the book.[18] Hasel observes that the oldest scroll published before 1992 is 4QDanc dating to the late 2nd century B.C. The manuscript evidence for Daniel is 50 years closer to the supposed Maccabean date of composition than anything extant.[19] Moreover, “there is great harmony between the MT and the Cave 4 finds of the book of Daniel” and Hasel notes 4 powerful lines of supporting material.[20] The unity and early date for the DSS is far more problematic to the critic than the traditionalist because:

Is there enough time for the supposed tradition-historical and redaction-critical developments [as mentioned above] allegedly needed for the growth of the book? […] The verdict seems negative, and an earlier date for Daniel than the second century is unavoidable.[21]

The rather simple observation is that the language transitions are original and a mark of an authentic composition, and consequently of an earlier date than is supposed by critics. Yet the critic is not content with this conception; instead, it appears that the critic must contrive another hypothesis.

Loanwords: Persian, Greek, and Egyptian

The book of Daniel has Persian and Greek loanwords along with one Egyptian loanword. This has served as a source of contention between both approaches. The only agreement as of yet is that they exist; the evidence that they provide is interpreted distinctively. Critics argue that these words reflect a late period. In fact, it has been argued that their placement in Daniel is the result of a deliberate desire to give the impression of being really from the 6th century B.C. but not done consistently.[22]

According to Driver’s classical arguments, critics argue that Greek loanwords objectively support the case; moreover, as Peter W. Coxon argues, it is the “strongest evidence in favor of the second century B.C.” position.[23] Traditional scholars are not impressed with such assertions on the grounds that there is no need to limit the utility of each respective language to the 2nd century B.C.; therefore, the argument (based upon a precise but faulty linguistic chronology) falls by the wayside as compelling “proof.”

The Egyptian loanword hartummin (Dan 2:10, 27; 4:4), another formation is rab hartummayya (Dan 4:6, 5:11), is the Egyptian word for “magician.”[24] L. F. Hartman, in “The Great Tree and Nobuchodonosor’s Madness,” argues that this loanword should “strictly” only apply to “Egyptian magicians” who would are not to be found in the Babylonian court of Nebuchadnezzar.[25] In response, Yamauchi suggests two lines of evidence to demonstrate how frail the argument is. First, the Jehoiachin ration tablets illuminate the setting by noting that among other nations “Egyptians were given provision by the royal court.” Second, I. Eph’al demonstrates that there were Mesopotamian Egyptians professionally serving as lubare (“diviners”) and luhartibi (“dream interpreters”) in the 5th and 6th centuries B.C. Luhartibi is a cognate of the word in question. While Yamauchi argues that the word does not necessarily have to be a reference to Egyptian nationals, “the idea that there were Egyptian magicians and soothsayers in Mesopotamia is not so far fetched as Harman believes.”[26]

The Persian and Greek loanwords are said, respectively, to “presuppose a period after the Persian empire had been well established” and “demand […] a date after the conquest of Palestine by Alexander the Great (B.C. 332).”[27] Yet, Montgomery is said to point out that allowance must be made for the influence of cultures to be more widespread than earlier presumed.[28] In other words, the classical linguistic argument is not as strong as it used to be. In fact, Driver’s famous linguistic conclusion abbreviated above included Aramaic which is now known to be difficult to distinguish between early and late periods.[29]

Nevertheless, some would still use this argument in support of a late date, but to this, there is an answer. Yamauchi has completely crippled this notion by chronicling the channels of transmissions (i.e. musical notation, merchant exchange, and that of foreign captives).[30] Moreover, he has demonstrably chronicled there has been Grecian contact with Mesopotamia from even before 1000 B.C. to at least the 400s B.C.,[31] and any appearance of these Greek words “is not proof of Hellenistic date, in view of the abundant opportunities for contact between the Aegean and the Near East.”[32]

The Persians loanwords fare no better as evidence of a late date. Waltke gleans three observations from Kenneth Kitchen’s 1965 work “The Aramaic of Daniel” published in Notes on Some Problems in the Book of Daniel.[33] First, by way of objectivity, it must be noted that the Persian words are “old Persian words” which typically are found in the 300s B.C. Second, it is egregious to assume that it would take an absorbent amount of time for Persian words to be borrowed into Aramaic, because if Daniel did exist he would have become acclimated to the Persian vocabulary sooner rather than later.

Third, four of nineteen Persian words the old Greek translations are mere guesswork which bears this implication: “if Daniel were wholly a product of 165 B.C., then just a century or so in a continuous tradition is surely embarrassingly inadequate as a sufficient interval for that loss (or change) of meaning to occur by Near Eastern standards.”[34] In 1976, Millard, citing this work, notes that these loanwords are “quite at home in a sixth century context” and that Kitchen’s observations “have been accepted by leading linguists.”[35]

Canonical Placement

Wisdom or Prophetic Literature?

Based upon the placement of Daniel among the Ketubim (Writings) of the Hebrew Bible and not among the Nevi’im (Prophets), critics dismiss Daniel because it is mere wisdom literature with no true prophetic import instead it is a pseudepigraphic work utilizing vaticinium ex eventu prophecy (i.e. utterances appearing prophetic but were composed post-event). Klaus Koch notes that by “presupposing” an early date for the completion of the canon around c.200 A.D., “scholars made the incorporation of Daniel among the writings a cornerstone of the so-called Maccabean Theory.”[36]

First, the placement of the book does not illegitimate it from being both wisdom and prophetic. David Malick argues that Daniel is historical literature along the lines of Ezra (an accepted book by the critics) and therefore “applies because the prophetic visions are also a record (in advance) of the sovereign work of God in history.”[37]

Second, after evaluating the positive and negative evidence of the placement of Daniel, Kloch argues that there is the negative evidence is inconclusive,[38] while the positive evidence suggests an earlier “Jewish diaspora canon”[39] and “at some point the rabbis transferred the book from the prophetic corpus to the last third of their collection of Holy Scripture. That probably happened long before the fifth century” A.D.[40]

In other words, there appears to be a strong case that Daniel was initially in the Nebhim and was later transferred to the Ketubim, which is in total disagreement with the critical attack.

Historical Concerns

The Archaeological Record is Incomplete but Reliable

Since the historical issues are directly related to the issue of the date of composition, it is important to evaluate the faulty view that archaeology has revealed everything relative to historical studies of biblical narratives. It must be understood that not all of the desired archaeological data is available to the Bible student. However, what is available impressively agrees with the biblical narrative.

In discussing the fragmentary nature of the archaeological evidence, Yamauchi briefly and candidly lays out the situation. In summary, he lists 4 factors.[41]

First, artifact remains (written or manufactured) are minute. Second, a small fraction of the possible sites were surveyed or excavated. Third, generally speaking, only a small fraction of these sites are even excavated. Fourth, a small percentage of what has been found has been written upon, and even when they are there is typically a great delay of time between excavation and publication. This is important to recognize because it is typically the case that the critics argue that “since we do not have certain corroborative evidence for something mentioned in the textual tradition, the reference must be anachronistic.”[42]

For example, Daniel 5:30 mentions Belshazzar, a person who for years was a personage relegated to myth by critics, therefore being a serious divergence in the biblical account from historical veracity. However, as Gonzalo Baez-Carmargo writes “the problem continued until new archaeological evidence showed that the two reports [from history and the Bible] could be reconciled.”[43] 

It is not foolish to suggest, therefore (when there is a lack of evidence on a given point of contention) that one must wait for new evidence to arrive. Sadly, that is not what typically occurs, and instead, as H. C. Leupold observes, whenever the Bible is the sole source for reporting history, the “prevailing tendency is to discredit the biblical statement” never mind that in other situations single statements from other sources are received without much alarm.[44]

Daniel 1:1 and Jeremiah 25:1

Robert A. Anderson, taking the critical approach, comments upon Daniel 1:1 and writes that “reference is often made to a historical inaccuracy within these opening verses.”[45] Anderson refers to the alleged contradiction between Daniel 1:1 and Jeremiah 25:1. Anderson also represents the naturalistic critical mindset when he writes that “historical inexactitudes are not infrequent in” Daniel.

First among the supposed historical blunders to be considered is the invasion into Judah by Nebuchadnezzar. Bruce K. Waltke asks the following question:

How can one square the statement in Daniel 1:1 that Nebuchadnezzar in his first year as king besieged Jerusalem in the third year of Jehoiakim with the statement in Jeremiah 25:1, 9; 46:1[-2] that Nebuchadnezzar defeated Pharaoh Necho in the fourth year of Jehoiakim?[46]

Waltke, “The Date of the Book of Daniel,” BSac 133 (1976)

After all, if they cannot be harmonized then this is an occasion of a “historical inexactitude” which would underscore a purely human enterprise in the composition of either Daniel or Jeremiah which implicitly affirms that there was no supernatural guidance in their production as the dogma of inspiration necessitates.

Waltke suggests that the superficial discrepancy between Daniel and Jeremiah is the result of comparing the use of two distinct systems of dating, citing Edwin Thiele’s work The Mysterious Numbers of the Hebrew Kings. Waltke further writes:

In Babylonia the year in which the king ascended the throne was designated specifically as “the year of accession to the kingdom,” and this was followed by the first, second, and subsequent years of rule. In Palestine, on the other hand, there was no accession year as such, so that the length of rule was computed differently, with the year of accession being regarded as the first year of the king’s reign.[47]

Waltke, “The Date of the Book of Daniel,” BSac 133 (1976)

Likewise, based upon R. K Harrison’s 1973 work on Jeremiah and Lamentations (Tyndale Old Testament commentary) Wayne Jackson notes that critics “once alleged that this passage was in conflict with Daniel 1:1, but archaeological discoveries have demonstrated that Jeremiah used the Jewish method of computing reigns, while Daniel employed the Babylonian system.”[48]

If this harmonization is correct then it becomes a line of argumentation for the early 6th century B.C. date of composition because the dating is not in conflict.[49]

Darius the Mede

The next issue under consideration encircles the identity of the illusive personage of Darius the Mede. Critics basically assert that “no such figure as Darius the Mede is known to history,”[50] or as Frost words it, Darius the Mede “never existed.”[51] Collins argues that it is the confusion by the Maccabean author for Darius I of Persia (522-486 B.C.).[52] Frost notes two options that are: this illusive one does not exist or he “is known to history by some other name.”[53] Frost lucidly summarizes Rowley’s work on ascertaining the Mede’s identity and notes that it could not be Astyages (too early), Cambyses (not a Mede), Gobryas (either Babylonian or Persian), nor Cyaxares (a fictional person).[54]

Since no one fits that description, coupled with the discovery of two dated overlapping Babylonian tablets by two months depicting that after Nabonidus reigned, succeeded only by Belshazzar, Cyrus ruled; consequently, Frost’s either-or scenario seems to imply that the illusive Mede is fictitious.

However, Dillard and Longman present the work of Shea conducted from 1971-1982 which affirms that there was a unique situation in the 1st year of the reign of Cyrus noting that he did not take on the title “king of Babylon” only until as late as the end of his 1st year. This has led Shea to conclude that there is space to put in a possible vassal, biblically identified as Darius the Mede.[55] Moreover, there is room for debate, however, Shea’s second option is that consistent with the Babylonian dating system, the Cambyses-Cyrus co-regency is “dated to the latter’s second year,” which is consistent with “Cambyses’ participation in the Babylonian New Year’s festival” placed at the beginning of Cyrus’ second year of reign.

This is, as Shea writes, “tantamount to designating him as king.”[56] The point is, the issue can be given a soluble response enmeshed in historical facts. This answers Frost’s either-or position leaving another possible persona Rowley perhaps had not considered.

Jesus and Daniel the Prophet

The last historical evidence is the testimony of Jesus, the founder of the Christian religion. Jesus regards exilic Daniel as a prophet (Matt 24:15), and many have seized upon this as proof that Daniel is prophetic, thereby arguing for a sixth-century B.C. date of composition. Samuel A. Cartledge, observing this, affirms that this is not definite proof that Daniel is the author of the book which bears his name. “Jesus may have known that the book was written by someone else and still have spoken of it in a popular way.”[57] For Cartledge, it may conceivably be this or another occasion where the Lord has limited his knowledge as in the case of the time of his return.[58]

However, the grammar of the passage is rather vivid. It is observed that dia with the genitive (as is the case in verse 15) “is common for the intermediate agent in contrast with” hupo with the genitive (“the immediate agent”) as in hupo kurioo dia too profetoo “by the Lord through the prophet.”[59] This intermediate agency of Daniel in the predicting of the “abomination of desolation” (Dan 9:27; 11:31; 12:11) has made Gleason Archer observe the following:

Christ was not simply referring to some book in the Old Testament named “Daniel” but rather to the agency of Daniel personally, since dia with the genitive always implies personal human agency [emphasis added]. If these words of Christ are reliably reported […] we can only conclude that Christ personally believed that the historic personage Daniel was the author of the book that contained this eschatological phrase.[60]

Archer, New International Encyclopedia of Bible Difficulties (1982)

It must be conceded that the context must determine that human participation is in view; however, if Archer’s argument is sound in general (and it appears that it is) then this is a strong case for Daniel to be regarded as a prophet. Also, it underscores what the Apostle Matthew and the church under his leadership believed concerning Daniel’s prophetic office.

Daniel would consequently satisfy the prophetic criteria of Deuteronomy 18:22. It seems appropriate to suggest that Cartledge assumes far too much when he provides his fanciful options. He also explains away what would be obvious to the first-century reader of the Greek text.

Final Observations

In brief, the major linguistic issues are not demonstrably in favor of the late 2nd century B.C. view. The evaluation of such data is not easy and is meticulous; however, the linguistic transitions from Hebrew to Aramaic and Aramaic to Hebrew are only separated (if taking the critical approach) from the autographs by 50 years; thus, the earliest extant testimony to their authenticity and the early unity of Daniel. The Egyptian, Persian, and Greek loanwords do not demonstrably prove that the composition is of a late date. Instead, there are vast amounts of opportunities for these terms to be used throughout the captivity, exploding the small window of opportunity for usage provided by the critical position.

The evidence does not prove or substantially support the critical approach, meanwhile, the traditional view in light of the data from the foregoing research does, however, stand in a stronger position.

Likewise, the controverted historical data, while at times difficult to sort through, can be harmonized to the point that it does not contradict history. It must be recognized that everything available from archaeology is not uncovered and that even that which is recovered is a small fraction of a bygone world. Consequently, patience and watchfulness must be given in affirming a conclusion based on that evidence. Be that as it may, the historical data relative to Daniel better supports the traditional literal approach to Daniel.

The relegation of Daniel to mere wisdom literature with no true prophetic import is fallacious at best and a biased interpretation at worst. Attacks upon the biblical account of the invasion of Jerusalem can be harmonized satisfactorily. The great difficulty of identifying Darius the Mede is not insoluble, but critical scholars have no demonstrable right to affirm that this character must be relegated to mythology as a historical confusion. Finally, the testimony of Jesus affirms that Daniel is considered a prophet by the first-century Jews which, at least for the Lord, had an unfinished prophecy to be fulfilled.

At worst this is the testimony of a Rabbi living earlier than the Christian antagonist Porphyry and a little under two millennia earlier than the modern critics, and at best the testimony of the God in the flesh.

One might conclude with the “Danielic” words “MENE, MENE, TEKEL” (Dan 5:25), but instead, consider some observations by Robert D. Wilson and Harry Rimmer. Rimmer writes that a scientific approach to the Bible inquiry is to adopt a hypothesis and then test it and see if there are supportive data that establishes it. Rimmer writes:

If the hypothesis cannot be established and if the facts will not fit in with its framework, we reject that hypothesis and proceed along the line of another theory. If facts sustain the hypothesis, it then ceases to be theory and becomes an established truth.[61]

Harry Rimmer, Internal Evidence of Inspiration (1946)

Wilson makes a similar argument and ties an ethical demand to it. After ably refuting a critical argument against Daniel, Wilson remarks that when prominent critical scholars make egregious affirmations adequately shown to be so, “what dependence will you place on him when he steps beyond the bounds of knowledge into the dim regions of conjecture and fancy?”[62]

This is important to consider when the Bible is supported by abundant evidence of its authenticity (as is the case for Daniel), for “upon what ground of common sense or law of evidence are we to be induced to believe that these documents are false or forged when charges absolutely unsupported by evidence are made against them?”[63] There is no reason to. Yet many will be subdued by critical scholarship spouting that it holds the majority view of the date of composition. For those who look at the evidence, there really is no cause to accept the critical view of a late date of Daniel.

Works Cited

  1. J. Carl Laney, Concise Bible Atlas: a Geographical Survey of Bible History (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1998), 153. 
  2. Harold Louis Ginsberg, “Daniel, Book of,” in Encyclopaedia Judaica (Jerusalem: Judaica, 1973), 5:1281.
  3. Raymond B. Dillard and Tremper Longman, III, An Introduction to the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1994), 330.
  4. For a strong critique see Gleason L. Archer, “The Aramaic of the ‘Genesis Apocryphon’ Compared with the Aramaic of Daniel,” in New Perspectives on the Old Testament., ed. J. Barton Payne (Waco, TX: Word, 1970), 160-69.
  5. Bruce K. Waltke, “The Date of the Book of Daniel” BSac 133 (1976): 319.
  6. J. J. Collins, “Daniel, Book of,” Anchor Bible Dictionary, ed. David Noel Freedman (New York, NY: Doubleday, 1992. 29-37), 2:30.
  7. Collins, “Daniel, Book of,” ABD 2:30.
  8. Waltke, “The Date of the Book of Daniel,” 319.
  9. Edwin M. Yamauchi, “Hermeneutical Issues in the Book of Daniel,” JETS 23 (1980): 13-21.
  10. Waltke, “The Date of the Book of Daniel,” 322.
  11. Neil R. Lightfoot, How We Got the Bible, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2001), 30.
  12. Robert A. Anderson, Daniel: Signs and Wonders, eds. George A. F. Knight and Fredrick Carlson Holmgren (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1984), 13.
  13. Lightfoot, How We Got the Bible, 30.
  14. Gerhard Hasel, “New Light on the Book of Daniel from the Dead Sea Scrolls,” Archaeology and Biblical Research 5.2 (1992): 45-53.
  15. Hasel, “New Light on the Book of Daniel from the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 46.
  16. On this point, see Hasel, “New Light on the Book of Daniel from the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 50.
  17. Collins, “Daniel, Book of,” ABD 2:31, 33.
  18. John G. Gammie, “The Classification, Stages of Growth, and Changing Intentions in the Book of Daniel,” JBL 95.2 (1976): 196-202.
  19. Hasel, “New Light on the Book of Daniel from the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 47.
  20. Hasel, “New Light on the Book of Daniel from the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 50.
  21. Hasel, “New Light on the Book of Daniel from the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 48.
  22. Gammie, “The Classification, Stages of Growth, and Changing Intentions in the Book of Daniel,” 199.
  23. Edwin M. Yamauchi, “The Archaeological Background of Daniel,” BSac 137.545 (1980): 11.
  24. Gammie, “The Classification, Stages of Growth, and Changing Intentions in the Book of Daniel,” 199.
  25. Yamauchi, “The Archaeological Background of Daniel,” 10.
  26. Yamauchi, “The Archaeological Background of Daniel,” 10.
  27. Stanley B. Frost, “Daniel,” Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible, ed. George Arthur Buttrick (New York, NY: Abingdon, 1962), 1:768.
  28. Frost, “Daniel,” IDB 1:763.
  29. Frost, “Daniel,” IDB 1:763.
  30. Edwin M. Yamauchi, “The Greek Words in Daniel in the Light of Greek Influence in the Near East,” in New Perspectives on the Old Testament, ed. J. Barton Payne (Waco, TX: Word, 1970), 176.
  31. Yamauchi, “The Greek Words in Daniel in the Light of Greek Influence in the Near East,” 177-92.
  32. Yamauchi, “The Greek Words in Daniel in the Light of Greek Influence in the Near East,” 192.
  33. Waltke, “The Date of the Book of Daniel,” 323-24.
  34. Waltke, “The Date of the Book of Daniel,” 234.
  35. Allan R. Millard, “Daniel” in The International Bible Commentary, rev. ed., ed. Frederick F. Bruce (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1986), 848.
  36. Klaus Kloch, “Is Daniel also Among the Prophets?” Int 39 (1985): 118.
  37. David Malick, “An Introduction to the Book of Daniel,” Bible.org. 2015.
  38. Kloch, “Is Daniel also Among the Prophets?,” 119-20.
  39. Kloch, “Is Daniel also Among the Prophets?,” 121.
  40. Kloch, “Is Daniel also Among the Prophets?,” 122.
  41. Yamauchi, “The Greek Words in Daniel in the Light of Greek Influence in the Near East,” 171-74.
  42. Yamauchi, “The Greek Words in Daniel in the Light of Greek Influence in the Near East,” 170.
  43. Gonzalo Baez-Carmargo, Archaeological Commentary on the Bible, trans. American Bible Society (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1984), 180.
  44. H. C. Leupold, Exposition of Genesis: 1-19 (repr. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1975), 365-66.
  45. Anderson, Daniel, 1.
  46. Waltke, “The Date of the Book of Daniel,” 325-26.
  47. Waltke, “The Date of the Book of Daniel,” 326.
  48. Wayne Jackson, Jeremiah and Lamentations (Stockton, CA: Courier, 1997), 61.
  49. Waltke, “The Date of the Book of Daniel,” 326.
  50. Collins, “Daniel, Book of,” ABD 2:30.
  51. Frost, “Daniel,” IDB 1:765.
  52. Collins, “Daniel, Book of,” ABD 2:30.
  53. Frost, “Daniel,” IDB 1:765.
  54. Frost, “Daniel,” IDB 1:765.
  55. Dillard and Longman, An Introduction to the Old Testament, 336.
  56. Dillard and Longman, An Introduction to the Old Testament, 337.
  57. Samuel A. Cartledge, A Conservative Introduction to the Old Testament (Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, 1944), 221.
  58. Cartledge, A Conservative Introduction to the Old Testament, 221.
  59. Archibald T. Robertson and W. Hersey Davis, A New Short Grammar of the Greek Testament, 10th ed. (repr. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1979), 254.
  60. Gleason L. Archer, New International Encyclopedia of Bible Difficulties (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1982), 284.
  61. Harry Rimmer, Internal Evidence of Inspiration, 7th ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1946), 36.
  62. Robert D. Wilson, A Scientific Investigation of the Old Testament, rev. ed., ed. Edward J. Young (Chicago, IL: Moody, 1967), 98.
  63. Wilson, A Scientific Investigation of the Old Testament, 99.

Bibliography

Alexander, David, and Pat Alexander. Eds. Eerdmans’ Handbook to the Bible. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1973.

Anderson, Robert A. Daniel: Signs and Wonders. Gen. eds. George A.F. Knight and Fredrick Carlson Holmgren. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1984.

Archer, Gleason. L. “The Aramaic of the ‘Genesis Apocryphon’ Compared with the Aramaic of Daniel.” New Perspectives on the Old Testament. Ed. J. Barton Payne. Waco, TX: Word, 1970. 160–69.

_____.“Modern Rationalism and the Book of Daniel.” Bibliotheca Sacra 136.542 (1979): 129–47.

_____. New International Encyclopedia of Bible Difficulties. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1982.

Baez-Carmargo, Gonzalo. Archaeological Commentary on the Bible. Trans. American Bible Society. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1984.

Brantley, Garry K. “The Dead Sea Scrolls and Biblical Integrity.” Apologetics Press on the Web. 1995. 20 Sept. 2003 <http://www.apologeticspress.org/rr/rr1995/r&r9504a.htm>.

Cartledge, Samuel A. A Conservative Introduction to the Old Testament. Athens, GA: U Georgia P, 1944.

Collins, J.J. “Daniel, Book of.” Anchor Bible Dictionary. vol. 2. Gen. ed. David Noel Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1992. 29–37.

Dillard, Raymond B., and Tremper Longman III. An Introduction to the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1994.

Frost, Stanley B. “Daniel.” The Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible. vol. 1. Ed. George Arthur Buttrick. New York: Abingdon, 1962. 768.

Gammie, John G. “The Classification, Stages of Growth, and Changing Intentions in the Book of Daniel.” Journal of Biblical Literature 95.2 (1976): 191–204.

Geisler, Norman L. A Popular Survey of the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000.

Ginsberg, Harold Louis. “Daniel, Book of.” Encyclopaedia Judaica. vol. 5. Jerusalem: Judaica, 1973.1277–89.

Harrison, R.K. “Daniel, Book of.” International Standard Bible Encyclopedia. Rev. ed. vol. 1. Gen. ed. Geoffrey W. Bromiley. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979. 859–66.

Hasel, Gerhard. “New Light on the Book of Daniel from the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Archaeology and Biblical Research 5.2 (1992): 45–53. [Also published in Ministry (Jan. 1992): 10–13.]

Jackson, Wayne. Jeremiah and Lamentations. Stockton, CA: Courier, 1997.

Laney, J. Carl. Concise Bible Atlas: A Geographical Survey of Bible History. Peabody: Hendrickson, 1998.

Leupold, H.C. Exposition of Genesis: 1–19. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1975.

Lightfoot, Neil R. How We Got the Bible. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001.

Malick, David. “An Introduction to the Book of Daniel.” Biblical Studies Foundation on Web. 1996. 19 Sept. 2003 <http://www.bible.org/docs/ot/books/dan/dan-intr.htm&gt;.

Millard, A.R. “Daniel.” The International Bible Commentary. Gen ed. F.F. Bruce. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1986. 847–70.

Rimmer, Harry. Internal Evidence of Inspiration. 7th ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1946

Roberston, A.T., and W. Hersey Davis. A New Short Grammar of the Greek Testament. 10th ed. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1979.

Waltke, Bruce. K. “The Date of the Book of Daniel.” Bibliotheca Sacra 133 (1976): 319–33.

Wilson, Robert D. A Scientific Investigation of the Old Testament. Rev. ed. Edward J. Young. Chicago: Moody, 1967.

Yamauchi, Edwin M. “The Archaeological Background of Daniel.” Bibliotheca Sacra 137.545 (1980): 3–16.

_____. “The Greek Words in Daniel in the Light of Greek Influence in the Near East.” New Perspectives on the Old Testament. Ed. J. Barton Payne. Waco, TX: Word, 1970.

_____. “Hermeneutical Issues in the Book of Daniel.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 23 (1980): 13–21.

Joshua and the Land of Promise

On By Jovan PayesIn Articles, Bible Geography, College Work, FHU, Freed-Hardeman University, Historical Books, Joshua, Old TestamentLeave a comment

The book of Joshua finds itself in a unique position in the Holy Writ. Few books express such a pivotal moment in Redemptive History as does the book of Joshua. Within its twenty-four chapters is found how, with Divine oversight, Joshua and the Israelites conquered and settled the land of Canaan. This was not, however, a haphazard situation but rather one of a destiny realized.

The materializing of God’s promise to Abraham was before their very eyes and in their very hands. A brief exploration of this promise and the physical features of the land will aid in understanding and appreciating the historical accounts in Joshua. Likewise, attention will be given the limitation of occupation God incorporated into the “deed” of the Land of Promise.

The Abrahamic Covenant of Faith

A major theme that runs through the book of Genesis is that God has called Abraham to dwell in a land which would eventually be given to him as a possession (i.e., Palestine; Gen 12:1-3, 13:14-15; Acts 7:2-4):[1]

Now the LORD said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” (Gen 12:1-3)

Furthermore, he would be the father of the Hebrew nation, Israel, through whom the Messiah would come to redeem a fallen humanity (Gen 22:17-18; Gal 3:16). The whole world was offered redemption (John 3:16) so that it would be the beneficiary of this promise – not just the Hebrews (1 John 2:2).

However despite this promise, and despite the panoramic view God gave Abraham (Gen 13:14-18), the great patriarch of the Hebrews never obtained the land as a possession. He had to obtain it through his descendants. The writer of Hebrews recalls the fact Abraham and his offspring did not literally possess the land while they dwelt on its soil.

By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God. (Heb 11:8-10)

Beginning from chapter 12 of Genesis, the great patriarchs of the Israelites (Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob) dwell in a nomadic sense in the land promised to them by God – though never really possessing it. Possession of the land does not occur until after the period of Egyptian bondage, the wilderness wanderings, and then finally after the conquest of most of the Promised Land under Joshua and Caleb (Josh 11:23, 13:1).

Finally, before moving past this brief introduction to the promises of God to Abraham in Genesis 12, it is highly important to observe Paul’s insight on these passages related to the redemptive role Abraham’s “seed” would play. In Galatians 3, Paul argues how those who have Abrahamic faith will be justified in Jesus Christ.

  • And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “In you shall all the nations be blessed.” So then, those who are of faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith (3:8-9).
  • Now the promises were made to Abraham and to his offspring. It does not say, “And to offsprings,” referring to many, but referring to one, “And to your offspring,” who is Christ (3:16).

The point Paul makes is that despite Abraham having many descendants, there is one particular offspring in mind that would bless all nations – Jesus the Christ. And it is through a faithful and obedient response to Jesus and his teaching that makes us children of Abraham (Gal 3:24-29). This is a vital aspect of the Abrahamic covenant, for it anticipated the Christian religion in its culminating redemptive work among all nations (Matt 28:19-20, Mark 16:15-16, Luke 24:44-49, John 1:1-14, Acts 1:8, 11:18).

Joshua and the Israelites Divide and Conquer

The book of Joshua is demonstrative proof that God fulfilled his land promise to Abraham. Israel must depend upon the Lord to conquer the land. The conquest is normally described as a three-pronged method of attack.[2] But the text does not describe the unfolding of these events in a strategic way. Initially, it was conceived to be an all-out conquest of the cities in the land much like Jericho and Ai; however, later conquests demonstrate to be more the result of preemptive strikes from other kingdoms upon Israel due to its successful military campaigns in the region.

First, the Israelites penetrated into the center of the Canaanite land (Joshua 6-9). The cities of Jericho (6:1-27) and Ai (7:1-8:29) were the first to experience the Israelite forces, as the Israelites initially took the land. And, the Gibeonite people were subjugated into servants, “cutters of wood and drawers of water for the congregation and for the altar of the Lord” due to their attempt at political deception (9:1-27). They claimed to come from a distant land, though they were an established group of inhabitants in the land with several cities all their own such as Gibeon, Chephirah, Beeroth, and Kiriath-jearim (9:16-17, 22).

Second, the Israelites respond to a strike upon the newly acquired inhabitants (the Gibeonites) by a band of five aggressive Amorite Kings of southern Canaan (Joshua 10). These five kings are listed in 10:5: Adoni-zedek, the king of Jerusalem, Hoham king of Hebron, the king of Jarmuth, the king of Lachish, and the king of Eglon. Since, Gibeon was a renowned city with many valiant warriors, and it had now become a part of the Israelites who conquered Jericho and Ai, these kings embraced the “strike first” strategy. Little did they know that “the Lord fought for Israel” (10:14), and that their fate would end with their cities being conquered (10:16-21, 29-38) and by suffering execution under the hand of Joshua in Makkedah (10:22-28).

The Conquest of Canaan - Concise Bible Atlas (Laney)
The Conquest of Canaan (Laney, Concise Bible Atlas)

At the end of this campaign, the chronicler[3] of these events concludes this aspect of the conquest with following words:

So Joshua struck the whole land, the hill country and the Negeb and the lowland and the slopes, and all their kings. He left none remaining, but devoted to destruction all that breathed, just as the Lord God of Israel commanded. And Joshua struck them from Kadesh-barnea as far as Gaza, and all the country of Goshen, as far as Gibeon. And Joshua captured all these kings and their land at one time, because the Lord God of Israel fought for Israel. Then Joshua returned, and all Israel with him, to the camp at Gilgal. (10:40-43)

It was during this campaign that the famous “sun stood still” miracle occurred (10:12-13). Some dispute that the event was miraculous, but “conservative scholars are in agreement that this circumstance involved a genuine miracle, and that the account is not a mere poetic or mythological description of an ancient victory.”[4]

Finally, Joshua and company have a military victory over a northern Canaanite confederacy (Joshua 11). The land was conquered (Josh 11:16). It must be observed though, that the conquest was aided supernaturally by Divine intervention (Josh 5:13-15). Therefore, “the Lord gave to Israel all the land of which He had sworn to give to their fathers, and they took possession of it and dwelt in it” (Josh 21:43, 44-45 NKJV). After some 500 years after the initial promise, the promise is fulfilled.

The Dimensions of the Land

The land awaiting the Hebrew nation was extremely remarkable.  Both Abraham and Moses had been privileged to see its beauty (Gen 13:14-18; Deut 32:49).  In his guide book, Guy Duffield writes that from Mt. Nebo “on a clear day, the entire land of Canaan can be seen inasmuch as it is so small – 150 miles from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean.”[5] This is a “parallelogram about 150 miles from north to south and varying in width from 45 to 70 miles”,[6] and was highly diverse botanically, zoologically, meteorologically, and geographically.[7] One writer has said, “Within such small compass the country must have been unequalled for charm and variety.”[8] Even with a brief geographical overview of Palestine a value for the lands diversity can be ascertained.

Beginning from the land east of the Jordan River and venturing across the river into northern and southern extents of Palestine, the children of Israel found themselves in a very geographically dynamic territory. Carl Laney writes that the “land can be divided longitudinally into four distinct geographical regions: the coastal plain, the hill country, the Great Rift Valley, and the Transjordan highlands.”[9] While others have developed the subdivisions of these regions more exhaustively,[10] space here allows for only brief remarks as they relate to the conquest and settlement of Canaan.

The land on either side of the Jordan River is home to the historical narrative of the conquest implemented by the Israelites. The book of Joshua opens with the Israelites on the east side of the Jordan River.  In fact, the books of Numbers and Deuteronomy catalog their conquest of this region, known as the Transjordan highlands (Num 31; Deut 2:26-3:11). The land spreads 150 miles from Mt. Hermon in the north to the southern tip of the Dead Sea.[11] The territory was subdivided and given to the tribes of Reuben and Gad, and to half of the tribe of Manasseh (Deut 3:12-22). This high plateau stands nearly at 4,000 feet, which “becomes higher as it extends southward, rising from two to five thousand feet in elevation.”[12] From the western side of this highland, it descends “steeply” down to the Jordan valley.[13] A key monument in the land would be Mt. Nebo, where Moses viewed the Promised Land before his death (Deut 3:23-29).

After crossing the Jordan River, the Israelites transverse a challenging topography throughout their conquests.  In it they encountered the deep chasm of the Rift Valley and the mountainous geography of the western Hill Country.  As the Israelites crossed the Jordan River, they where trekking through a great “fissure in the earth’s crust.”[14] The Rift Valley is “some 1,700 feet above sea level at the source of the Jordan River (near Caesarea-Philippi) and almost 1,300 feet below sea level at the Dead Sea in the south.”[15] This becomes a major border between the tribes one each side so that the “Rift made it virtually impossible for Transjordan to become integrally united with Samaria and Judah on a permanent basis.”[16]

After walking across the Jordan River, the Israelites encounter the Hill Country.  This land is home to a roller coaster of valleys and mountain ranges.  This is the backdrop of the central, southern and northern campaigns.  This is the home of the rest of the Hebrew nation.  North to south, the land consists of:

Upper Galilee, Lower Galilee, the hill country of Samaria and Judea, the “Shefelah” (a natural terrace on the western side of the mountains), and the Negeb (rendered ‘South Country’ in the Scriptures), which extends south of Hebron into the Arabian Desert.[17]

This land division stretches from the Upper Galilean region, where the elevations reach their zenith at nearly 4,000 feet, down through the Samaritan and Judean regions (where lower elevations exist) to the dry Negev plain.[18] One can appreciate then the notion that the Israelites were of a rugged deportment – this is probably accredited to their sojourn in the wilderness.

As the Israelites divided the land, many of their territories would include a portion of the coastal plain (Joshua 14-21).  This beach front is “a band of sandy and alluvial soil bordering the Mediterranean Sea.”[19] North to South, it extends some 165 miles from the “Ladder of Tyre (Rosh Ha-Niqra)” to the “Wadi el-‘Arish”, all the while broadening the width of its land from 3 miles in the North to approximately “twenty-five miles” in the south.[20] “The whole coastal region readily lends itself to a threefold division: the Plain of Philistia, the Plain of Sharon, and the Plain of Acre.”[21]

The Divine Transplantation

Jehovah God fulfilled His promise to the Hebrew patriarchs and gave the Israelites the land of promise.  The description of the land itself yields a very rugged picture, yet God gave these nomads victory over the established societies encountered therein.

Henry H. Halley captures the magnitude of such a feat. He declares that such a monumental liberation and migration of a nation could not be explained sufficiently with naturalistic conclusions. For Halley, it can be spoken of in no other terms aside from the miraculous:

Aside from various accompanying miracles, the Transplanting of a Whole Great Nation, bodily, from one land to another, meanwhile maintaining it 40 years in a Desert, was in itself one of the most Stupendous Miracles of the ages.[22]

What other explanation would there be for Pharoah to relinquish his profitable workforce – the slave labor of Israel? What other explanation would there be for the survival of millions of Israelites in the desert? Moreover, how can there be a reasonable naturalistic explanation for a nomadic force overtaking fortified cities?

No doubt, the naturalist – or skeptic – can raise criticisms; however, for the theist, the best and simplest explanation is found in Divine intervention. If God created the universe and has provided for every creature, then surely God can lead and provide a nation with liberation from slavery, and then set them on the center stage of the geopolitical tensions of the Mediterranean coastline.

Indeed, the greatest problem for the skeptic and atheist resides in Genesis 1:1 –“In the beginning God.” Such a tremendous experience should have yielded a sense of unwavering dedication to the God of their salvation (Exod 14:28-31), but, unfortunately, Israel’s history retells the cyclical problem of rebellion and idolatry.

It was this problem to which God addressed himself and anticipated in the Law of Moses. The Old Testament is transparent in God’s conditional relationship with Israel.[23] The relationship was dependent upon their faithfulness. Notice a sample of a few verses:

  • “And if you faithfully obey the voice of the Lord your God, being careful to do all his commandments that I command you today, the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations of the earth” (Deut 28:1).
  • And the Lord said to Moses, “How long will this people despise me? And how long will they not believe in me, in spite of all the signs that I have done among them? I will strike them with the pestilence and disinherit them, and I will make of you a nation greater and mightier than they” (Num 14:12).
  • “Be very careful, therefore, to love the Lord your God. For if you turn back and cling to the remnant of these nations remaining among you and make marriages with them, so that you associate with them and they with you, know for certain that the Lord your God will no longer drive out these nations before you, but they shall be a snare and a trap for you, a whip on your sides and thorns in your eyes, until you perish from off this good ground that the Lord your God has given you” (Josh 23:11-13).
  • “But just as all the good things that the Lord your God promised concerning you have been fulfilled for you, so the Lord will bring upon you all the evil things, until he has destroyed you from off this good land that the Lord your God has given you, if you transgress the covenant of the Lord your God, which he commanded you, and go and serve other gods and bow down to them. Then the anger of the Lord will be kindled against you, and you shall perish quickly from off the good land that he has given to you” (Josh 23:15-16).

The majority of the Hebrew Bible is the retells the story of the consistent Israelite rebellion against their God, God’s warning a recalcitrant nation of wrath, and then the culminating judgment brought upon them. One biblical student summarizes the situation in the following way:

Because of the accelerating rebellion of the nation, consummated by the murder of Jesus Christ, God rejected the Hebrew people. Inexcusably, the Jews rejected their own Messiah; accordingly, Jehovah repudiated that nation and determined to scatter them as dust (Matthew 21:44). Thus, in the providence of God, the Roman armies came against Palestine in A.D. 70, and Judaism was destroyed (cf. Matthew 22:7; 24:1-34); the Jewish “vessel” was smashed, and it cannot be put back together (cf. Jeremiah 19:11). According to Josephus, some 1.1 million Hebrews were slaughtered, and thousands were taken into slavery. All Jewish records were lost in that holocaust. Today, there is not a single Jew who knows his tribal ancestry (McClintock and Strong, 1969, 771). The physical nation of Israel is dead. The “Jews” that make up the State of Israel today (less than twenty-five percent of the world Jewish population) cannot legitimately be called a “nation.”[24]

Conclusion

The biblical record is clear that God had promised to Abraham and his children His covenant to bless them and to give them a land for their descendants (Acts 13:16-25). This land, as demonstrated by ample biblical references was a possession for as long as they remained faithful to God. Sadly, they showed a consistent spirit of rebellion, and as a consequence, a new covenant was to replace the Mosaic Covenant and fulfill the Abrahamic covenant.

Aside from physical blessings, this covenant had spiritual emphases as well – it anticipated the coming offspring that would bless all nations with salvation (Gen 22:17-18; Gal 3:16). Indeed, as the Hebrew writer observes, Joshua may have provided the Jews with a Sabbath rest after the conquest of Palestine, but Jesus provides a rest yet to be experienced – redemption in Heaven (Heb 4:1-10).

Works Cited

  1. Unless otherwise stated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the English Standard Version of the Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2001).
  2. Norman L. Geisler, A Popular Survey of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2000), 97.
  3. I use the name “chronicler” due to the fact that Joshua is, like many Old Testament books, anonymous. Raymond B. Dillard and Tremper Longman, III, stress that ascertaining authorship and date for Joshua’s composition is “bound up with larger historical and theological questions” than mere internal and external argumentation (An Introduction to the Old Testament [Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1994], 108). David Malick lists a number of features within Joshua (i.e. internal evidence) pointing to various authors; among them, Joshua (“eyewitness quality”) and others who finished the book later – “but not much later” (“An Introduction to the Book of Joshua“). Malick concludes his discussion of authorship by observing that since critical scholarship results rejecting Joshua authorship lacks unanimity, the traditional view that Joshua wrote the majority of the book that bears his name is therefore a good assumption. The book should be viewed as “true to form” written in the days of Joshua and the elders that outlived him (Josh 24:31).
  4. Wayne Jackson, “How Do You Explain Joshua’s Long Day?,” ChristianCourier.com (Accessed: 22 Mar. 2002). This is a brief introduction to the subject, it would be worth consulting.
  5. Guy P. Duffield, Handbook of Bible Lands (Glendale, CA: Regal, 1969), 140.
  6. “Palestine of the Holy Land,” New Standard Reference Bible (Chicago, IL: Hertel, 1955), 756.
  7. Wayne Jackson, Background Bible Study (1986; repr., Stockton, CA: Christian Courier Publications, 2000), 1-18, 67-74.
  8. Alfred Edersheim, Sketches of Jewish Social Life, updated ed. (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994), 2.
  9. J. Carl Laney, Concise Bible Atlas: A Geographical Survey of Bible History (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1998), 41.
  10. J. McKee Adams, Biblical Backgrounds, revised ed., rev. Joseph A. Callaway (Nashville, TN: Broadman, 1965), 52-85.
  11. Laney, Concise Bible Atlas, 79.
  12. Laney, Concise Bible Atlas, 79.
  13. Laney, Concise Bible Atlas, 42.
  14. Laney, Concise Bible Atlas, 42.
  15. Jackson, Background Bible Study, 3.
  16. Laney, Concise Bible Atlas, 83.
  17. Jackson, Background Bible Study, 3.
  18. Laney, Concise Bible Atlas, 41.
  19. Laney, Concise Bible Atlas, 41.
  20. Laney, Concise Bible Atlas, 131.
  21. Adams, Biblical Backgrounds, 56.
  22. Henry H. Halley, Halley’s Bible Handbook, 24th ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1965), 22.
  23. Wayne Jackson, “God and the Nation of Israel,” ChristianCourier.com (Accessed: 14 Dec. 1998 ); pars. 13-14.
  24. Jackson, “God and the Nation of Israel,” par. 8.