Does God Exist?

There is no greater worldview question that divides humans so sharply than the following: does God exist? As a Christian, I believe there are many good reasons to assert that God does exist. This short piece offers a brief overview of these arguments for the existence of the Christian God.

The Case for the Christian God

The average Christian may think arguing for the existence of God is straightforward, but this is where we must get more specific. There are many worldview definitions of God/god that are distinct from how Christians have historically defined their Creator. Additionally, sometimes arguments for the existence of God only point to reasons to believe that a god exits, but not necessarily the God of the Christian faith. This is important because as a Christian casemaker, we do not merely argue that there are good reasons to believe a god exists, but that the God of the resurrected Christ exists.

For example, the apostle Paul employs well accepted natural theology to the Greek polytheistic mind and affirms this God resurrected Jesus Christ. In Athens, Paul affirms that the God of Israel (monotheism) is the god who is unknown to them in any specific detail (Acts 17:16, 22–23). They have knowledge of God in general terms: creator of the universe and mankind, manager of the world, and moral law giver (Acts 17:24–31a). This God will call all to moral account through Jesus, and he assures this expectation on the grounds of the resurrection of Jesus (Acts 17:31b). With this move, Paul excludes all other gods.

Step One: Arguments for the Existence of God

Arguments from nature provide good reasons to believe in the existence of God. They do not stand or fall together, but they do provide a cumulative case for the reasonableness of the Christian worldview. The following groups (or families) of arguments are used to make this case. I will offer a simplistic definition for each and then provide an example or two of how they make their case.

Cosmological Arguments: the existence of the universe demands a cause, whether natural (random) or supernatural (intelligent). As Baxter reminds us, “the argument is based upon the general, universal observation that ‘Nothing comes from nothing’” (I Believe Because…, 53). There must be a cause. Being careful with our words, it is more accurate to say “nothing [physical, material] comes from nothing.” Here’s why. Some things do exist necessarily. The field of mathematics reveals that numbers, mathematical sets or entities are not caused by something else. But things like people, planets, galaxies depend on other forces to exist (Craig, On Guard, 56–57). Physical things are contingent on past forces and cannot exist by themselves. As Ralph Gilmore says, these are “iffy” things that only exist “if” certain events or states occurred. Otherwise, you are left with a series of never-ending origin stories–an equally challenging miracle!

The cosmological argument makes its case from effect (the cosmos) to a necessary cause (God). There are both narrow and broad forms of this argument. Thomas B. Warren in debate with atheistic philosopher Antony Flew (1976) argued the narrow form, affirming that the first human came about either by evolutionary forces or by supernatural means. The apostle Paul employs the broad form when he argues that the material things of the world that make plain that there is an invisible, powerful, and divine God who created the world (Romans 1:19–20). Another broad form is known as the KALAM cosmological argument. In short, the argument goes as follow: whatever begins to exist has a cause; the universe began to exist; therefore, the universe has a cause. This ultimate cause is not contingent, nor impossible, but necessary. We call this necessary cause God.

Teleological Arguments: the presence of design in, or of, the universe demands that the design have a designer who employed intelligent agency. As an argument from empirical evidence, the argument moves from a design to an intelligent agent. The process has an intuitive aspect to it, making it a very accessible family of arguments. Nevertheless, the secular worldview explains apparent design as the result of “enough time and some luck”–certainly not the result of intelligent agency. It is important then to be clear on how to identify intelligent agency in the form of design.

To illustrate, the fine-tuning of the universe argument affirms that the cosmos is life-permitting in the most basic scientific sense: “organisms […] take in food, extract energy from it, grow, adapt to their environment, and reproduce” (Craig, 110). This reality implies a Fine-Tuner. But could this be the result of chance and time? Is this feature necessary to the universe? How do we distinguish between these options? On pure naturalism there is nothing necessary to the universe that requires it to be life-permitting. To the contrary, any potential life-permitting universe is “fantastically improbable.” Instead, a life-prohibiting universe is far more likely. The odds are so bad against a fine-tuned universe we should believe the system was rigged (Craig, 112–20).

Thus, the evidence of a fine-tunned universe points to its Fine-Tuner. It is not the result (contingent) of unintelligent processes, neither can chance explain its complexity, and it exhibits specific patterns characteristic of intelligence (Dembski, Intelligent Design, 127–49). As a watch, a camera, or a painting point to their intelligent agent, so the eye, the human body, the life-permitting features of the universe point to its Intelligent Agent, whom we call God.

Moral Arguments: based on the moral order of the human experience, the Cause of this moral order must be moral and its lawgiver (God). The argument observes a fundamental reality of the human social experience, the expectation of moral obligation. Regardless of worldview we all seem to play by the same rule, there are things you “ought to do,” and there are things you “ought not to do.” This holds even when there is disagreement over specific “oughts.” It has been well said,

Wherever man is found, he is convinced there is a difference between good and evil. Men may differ as to where to make the distinction between good and evil, but all men agree that such a distinction is to be made.”

Bales, The Law in the Heart, 56

The human experience is conscious of an objective moral law; objective moral laws imply a moral lawgiver; therefore, there must be a supreme moral lawgiver (Geisler and Brooks, When Skeptics Ask, 16).

Morality is a transcendent reality, not centered within a person. The conscience may have subjective elements but ultimately, moral obligations are not personal preferences. For example, why are hate crimes against women (kidnapping, sex-trafficking, etc.) objectively wrong and not personal preferences? Or, consider how the center of moral justice has shifted towards one’s subjective “psychological self” (truth) from which the moral imperative is to liberate oneself from all oppressive (evil) power structures (Trueman, Strange New World, 157). Even here the rules are the same, something is wrong in the objective world. External, transcendent moral obligations exist grounded in an objective reality point to the Giver of this moral code.

Ontological Argument: God is a necessary being, not a contingent being, and the cause of all contingent things. The argument is based on the very concept of the being of God, it is not directly based on empirical evidence as the previous arguments (cause, design, moral). Some regard this as the weakest argument for God because it depends heavily on abstract thinking. However, it has the same logic behind believing that mathematical items, like numbers, necessarily exist. Nevertheless, it relies on the likelihood that God exists (from evidence in the world). Thus, if God exists, he necessarily exists as the First Uncaused Cause (“God is”).

Step Two: From God to Christianity

Presently, we have surveyed arguments for the existence of God. From this general case for God can a specific case for the God of the Christian Faith be made? The above arguments help us to make certain measured expectations about God. God is: infinite, singular and powerful (cosmological); intelligent, powerful with deep knowledge (teleological); personal and relational, loving and holy (moral); transcendent, great and eternal (ontological). It is reasonable to suggest that such a God would likely seek to have a relationship with his creation and this activity may be identifiable in history in supernatural ways.

Of all the various world religions which exist, the Christian faith provides the most evidential and testable historical claim that “Jesus of Nazareth [was] crucified and killed [and] God raised him up” from the dead (Acts 2:22–24; 17:32; 25:19). The historical figure of Jesus is well attested by early non-Christian sources, including the circumstances of his death by crucifixion (Tacitus, Annals 15.44; Josephus, Antiquities 18.63–64, 116–17; 20.200). The earliest Christian claim asserted that Jesus was resurrected bodily and appeared to his disciples, and to skeptics and hostile unbelievers who converted to the faith (1 Corinthians 15:1–8).

Although many naturalistic explanations have been offered to account for the rise of the Christian faith, none have the explanatory force of the historical claim that Jesus rose from the dead by the power of God.

Conclusion

Does God exist? There are very good reasons to believe so. We must, however, take this a step further and affirm that there are very good reasons to believe that the God who rose Jesus from the dead exists.

Works Cited

Bales, James D. The Law Within Their Heart. Dallas, TX: Gospel Teachers Publications, 1981.

Baxter, Batsell Barrett. I Believe Because… A Study of the Evidence Supporting Christian Faith. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1971.

Craig, William Lane. On Guard: Defending Your Faith with Reason and Precision. Colorado Springs, CO: Cook, 2010.

Dembski, William A. Intelligent Design: The Bridge Between Science and Theology. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1999.

Geisler, Norman L., and Ronald M. Brooks. When Skeptics Ask: A Handbook on Christian Evidences. Revised ed. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2013.

Trueman, Carl R. Strange New World: How Thinkers and Activists Redefined Identity and Sparked the Sexual Revolution. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2022.

This article originally appeared in The Carolina Messenger. To subscribe for FREE click here. There are slight edits in this version.


Psalm 41: David’s Lament of Betrayal

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.


Do We Have the Old Testament?

A person of faith often assumes that there are no problems ascertaining the wording of certain passages. But reality demonstrates that there are instances where this proves to be untrue. What a believer expects God to do in His providential care of the planet may not always line up with how life unfolds itself, but such disorientation has been common among the faithful.

Despite all the miracles employed to compel Pharoah to release the Israelites from Egypt, when the environment became less than comfortable fear and panic overcame God’s people (Exod 14). Even Moses had initial problems with understanding the situation he was faced with when he was sent to Pharoah to have him release the Israelites (Exod 5). Examples could be multiplied to demonstrate that a person of faith at times needs “more” in order to calm their nerves.

The following brief study gives attention to the textual basis of the Old Testament, considering a few lines of thought that contribute to a more informed outlook on how copies of the Hebrew Bible have been transmitted into modern hands, and what the sources of the copies used today so that translators are able to produce translations of the Hebrew Bible.

It must be emphasized that this is not an exhaustive treatment of the subject. So much more is available for analysis; be that as it may, a survey of this material is sufficient to adequately support the above affirmation of the adequate veracity of the Hebrew Bible.

A Skeptic’s Concern

A skeptical approach to the Bible essentially argues that for a collection of books so old, for a collection of books that have passed through so many hands, or for a collection of anonymously published volumes, it is a hard sell to affirm that the Bible – here the Hebrew Bible – is trustworthy in any sense.

Regarding the textual certainty of the Bible in general, skeptic Donald Morgan puts the matter bluntly in the following words:

No original manuscripts exist. There is probably not one book that survives in anything like its original form. There are hundreds of differences between the oldest manuscripts of any one book. These differences indicate that numerous additions and alterations were made to the originals by various copyists and editors.[1]

The argument basically affirms that there is no way for the Bible to be an accurate record of the words of God, and therefore, it is not “trustworthy.”  The sheer force of this argument is designed to rob the Bible believer’s faith in God. Implicit with this is the futility of having a religion founded upon the Bible’s guidance.

What can be said of this dire depiction, except that one must not be persuaded by mere affirmations, but instead by the available evidence. Not only is it paramount to see the evidence, but it is imperative that a proper evaluation is given to it.

The OT Accurately Transmitted

The Scribal Evidence

The overall scribal evidence suggests that the Hebrew Bible has been adequately preserved. The “scribe” trade goes back very early in recorded antiquity and therefore is a field of has a rich heritage of scholarship and workmanship behind it.[2]  J. W. Martin notes that the field of transmitting literature is a known trade skill from the 2nd millennium B.C. and observes, “men were being trained not merely as scribes, but as expert copyists.”[3]  Copying occurred during the Babylonian exile. F. C. Grant writes, “in far-away Babylonia the study and codification, the copying and interpretation of the Sacred Law had steadily continued.”[4]

This means that extending back beyond the time of Abraham (19th century B.C.) and Moses (15th century B.C.), down to the time of the exilic and post-exilic scribes (the predecessors to the “scribes who copied and explained the Law in the New Testament times”),[5] “advanced” and “scrupulous” methods would likely be used to copy any text, including the Hebrew canon.

The next question in need of an answer, though, is: what were those methods? Briefly, observe the mentality and professionalism which exemplify the sheer reverential ethic towards the transmission of the Biblical text characterized by the scribes.

The Hebrew Scribes revered the sanctity of the Scriptures. Moses commanded the people not to “add to the word,” nor to “take from it” (Deut 4:2). The Hebrews respected this command. Josephus weighs in as support for this point. In arguing for the superiority of the Hebrew Bible against the conflicting mythologies of the Greeks fraught with evident contradicting alterations to their content, Josephus bases his argument upon the reverential mentality towards these writings.

Josephus testifies to this sense of reverence (Against Apion 1.8.41-42):

[41] It is true, our history hath been written since Artaxerxes very particularly, but hath not been esteemed of the like authority with the former by our forefathers, because there hath not been an exact succession of prophets since that time; [42] and how firmly we have given credit to those books of our own nation, is evident by what we do; for during so many ages as have already passed, no one has been so bold as either to add anything to them, to take anything from them, or to make any change in them; but it becomes natural to all Jews, immediately and from their very birth, to esteem those books to contain divine doctrines, and to persist in them, and, if occasion be, willingly to die for them.[6]

William Whiston, Translator

Even though there are variants, produced by scribes, the fundamental historical truth stresses that the Hebrew scribes revered the Scriptures and dared never to add or take away from them. This important truth must not be forgotten. Moreover, this fact emphasizes the great care they had with the transmission of the text.

The scribal methods changed as time progressed, and this seems to be for the better and for the worst. One thing is transparent, however, and that is this: consistent with the reverential appreciation of the scriptures, the Hebrew scribes exercised acute professionalism in their methods, however superstitious they were at times. Rabbinic literature testifies to the early scribal school. Clyde Woods reproduces 17 crucial rabbinic rules demonstrating the rigors of the early scribal methodology.[7] The specifics concerning the writing materials, the preparation of the document, the veracity of the authenticity of the template, the conduct displayed when writing divine names, and other critical rules are thus enumerated underscoring the diligent professionalism of the early scribes.

The Masoretes succeeded and exceeded these scribes as a professional group of transmitters of the Hebrew Bible, laboring from A.D. 500 to A.D. 1000.[8] Lightfoot summarizes a number of procedures the Masoretes employed to “eliminate scribal slips of addition and omission.”[9] The Masoretes counted and located the number of “verses, words, and letters of each book,” thereby passing on the text that they have received. This intricate methodology in preservation is of extreme importance in modern textual studies,[10] and answers the reason why these reliable “medieval manuscripts” are commonly the underlying text of modern English translations[11] and represented in the Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia (cf. English Standard Version).[12]

The concern for the accurate preservation of the Biblical text cannot, however, dismiss the fallible humanity which copied the text by hand, thereby producing inevitable scribal variations.[13] René Paché recounts the “herculean” endeavors of scholars evaluating the variants which have “crept into the manuscripts of the Scriptures” (e.g. B. Kennicott, Rossi, and J. H. Michaelis). These labors have also encompassed the analysis of the oldest versions and numerous citations and allusions from Jewish and Christian works. Robert D. Wilson’s observations in his work, A Scientific Investigation of the Old Testament, noted that the 581 Hebrew manuscripts studied by Kennicott are composed of 280 million letters comprised of only 900,000 variants. These variants are boiled down to 150,000 because 750,000 are “insignificant changes” of letter switches.[14]

This is represented as 1 variant for every 316 letters, but putting these unimportant variants aside, the count stands at 1 variant for every 1,580 letters. Moreover, “very few variants occur in more than one of the 200-400 manuscripts of each book of the Old Testament.”[15] The point that needs recognition, however, is that we must recognize that the scribes have done their best, but there are variations that must be accounted for. These variations are not sufficient enough to call into question the adequate preservation of the Hebrew Bible.

Textual Evidence

After evaluating some of the problems in the textual evidence for the Old Testament, it can be said that the overall material adequately preserves the Hebrew Bible. This investigation is comparable to a roller coaster. There are both ups and downs, making one more confident while at the same time bringing some concern. For example, Peter Craigie notes, “there is no original copy of any Old Testament book; indeed, not even a single verse has survived in its original autograph. This is not a radical statement, simply a statement of fact.”[16]

The Bible believer might feel a bit disconcerted to know this fact, but there is no genuine need to feel this way. Truth endures because of its very nature no matter if one destroys the materials upon which it is written (Jer 36:23-32). Moreover, the scribal evidence adequately demonstrates an amazingly high level of accurate transmission and preservation of the Old Testament, even though the autographs are not available. One might speculate as to why these important documents are not providentially preserved for posterity, but the observation that such a course of action “is a highly dangerous procedure” is promptly recognized.[17]

Nevertheless, there are historical issues relating to this question and to the question of why there are such a small number of manuscript copies of the Old Testament when compared to the textual evidence of the New Testament. The most important fact is that the Hebrew scribes destroyed old manuscripts (autographs and copies). Clyde M. Woods writes:

The relative paucity [i.e. smallness of number] of earlier Hebrew manuscripts is due not only to the perishable nature of ancient writing materials (skins and papyri) and to the effort of hostile enemies to destroy the Hebrew Scriptures, but, perhaps more significantly, to the fact that the Jews evidently destroyed some worn out manuscripts to prevent their falling into profane hands.[18]

This explains why there is comparatively less textual witness for the Old Testament than for the New, however, as Donald Demaray notes, “there is the compensating factor that the Jews copied their Scriptures with greater care than did the Christians.”[19] There are accounts of scribes having burial ceremonies for the manuscripts,[20] and the storage “of scrolls [in a “Genizah” depository] no longer considered fit for use.”[21]


Cairo Genizah - Cambridge Library Blog - Fig1
Image Credit: Cambridge University Library Special Collections. “Fragments from the Cairo Genizah prior to conservation and cataloguing [sic]” (Emma Nichols, “Conservation of the Lewis-Gibson Collection: Re-Treatment of Manuscript Fragments from the Cairo Genizah“)

A second major factor is the A.D. 303 declaration by Emperor Diocletian to destroy any “sacred” literature associated with the Christian religion.[22] F. C. Grant frames the significance as follows:

As never before, the motive of the Great Persecution which began in 303 was the total extirpation of Christianity: […]. The first of Diocletian’s edicts directed to this end prohibited all assemblies of Christians for purposes of worship, and commanded that their churches and sacred books should be destroyed.[23]

This would further contribute to the lack of Hebrew Bible manuscripts.

Modern manuscript evidence for the Hebrew Bible, therefore, does not include the autographa (“original manuscripts”) and is generally never expected to, as desirable as the obtainment of these documents is.[24] What remains is the collection of manuscripts which together allow textual scholars to reproduce as close as possible the Hebrew Old Testament. This body of textual evidence goes very far to close the gap between the present day and the autographa. What are these manuscript witnesses to the Hebrew Bible? There are primary and secondary witnesses but where space is limited to the manuscripts.

Bruce Waltke observes that the textual witnesses to the text are the extant Hebrew manuscripts and Hebrew Vorlage obtained from the early versions of the Hebrew text.[25] While the term “manuscript” is typically recognized, the term Vorlage is probably unfamiliar to the general Bible student. This term refers to the text that “lies before” the translation or a theoretical “prototype or source document” from which it is based.[26] The Masoretic text (MT), the Samaritan Pentateuch (SP), and the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS) are the principal manuscript witnesses. These manuscripts coupled with the Vorlage are the “documents” at our disposal.

Craigie’s presentation on this material[27] when compared to Waltke leaves something to be desired, and that something is more data and deeper investigation. However, Craigie presents the evidence that the manuscript evidence (including early translations) extends from the 2nd century B.C to the MT of the late 9th century B.C.[28] Leaving a considerable gap, as he notes, of “several centuries, the time varying from one Old Testament book to another, between the earliest extant manuscripts and no longer existing original manuscripts.”[29]

Waltke presents a fuller presentation of the two substantiating Craigie’s observations and would extend from the available data that the Vorlage of some of the DSS and SP points to a Proto-MT at least somewhere in the 5th century B.C.[30] Moreover, the oldest evidence is found in 2 extremely small silver rolls containing the Aaronic priestly blessing from Numbers 6:24-26, dating to the 7th or 6th centuries B.C.[31] The text reads:

May Yahweh bless you and keep you;
May Yahweh cause his face to
Shine upon you and grant you
Peace
(Michael D. Coogan)

Consequently, the worst case holds that the textual evidence goes only to the 2nd century, while the best case goes back some 300-500 years further back to a purer source as of yet unavailable.

H. G. G. Herklots has compiled a generous amount of information concerning the production of harmonization work which underlies the works of present-day manuscripts.[32] By doing this Herklots highlights that there are variations in the textual witnesses that the early stewards of the text attempted to dispose of but this has in some sense complicated the matter, making the study more laborious than it already is.[33] Variations are not as problematic as the skeptic supposes. To be sure, there are occasions of serious textual dissonance, but these are far from the plethoras of insignificant, obvious, and correctable variations.[34]

Waltke affirms, that “90 percent of the text contains no variants,” and of the remnant “10 percent of textual variations, only a few percent are significant and warrant scrutiny; 95 percent of the OT is therefore textually sound.”[35] Douglas Stuart notes that when considering the variations, “it is fair to say that the verses, chapters, and books of the Bible would read largely the same, and would leave the same impression with the reader, even if one adopted virtually every possible alternative reading.”[36] The variations of the extant textual evidence hardly, therefore, pose an indomitable problem to the adequate preservation of the Old Testament. The skeptic’s argument has no leg to stand upon.

Extra-Hebrew Bible Sources

Besides the extant Biblical literature of the Hebrew Bible, there are miscellaneous sources that demonstrate the veracity of the text, and implicitly note the accountability of the Hebrew Bible to a textual investigation. While these witnesses cannot reproduce the entire Old Testament, they can be compared with the manuscript evidence for accuracy and enlightened evidence when certain passages or words appear obscure. Briefly, consider two sources.

First, the Targums are a set of Jewish works in Aramaic that are paraphrastic (i.e. “interpretive translation”) of parts of the Old Testament.[37] Targums are said to be used in the synagogue to give the Aramaic-speaking Jews the “sense” of the Hebrew Bible.[38] This is comparable to the verbal translation that had to occur at the inauguration of the Law under Ezra, where there were assistants who “gave the sense, so that the people understood the reading” (Neh 8:8 ESV).

Targums have been written upon every section of the Hebrew Bible; they ranged from “very conservative” to “interpretive” (Onkelos and Jonathon respectively), and are useful for the light they show upon traditional Jewish interpretation.[39] In the history of the transmission of the Hebrew Bible, at times the Targum was placed along the side of a Hebrew text, a Greek text, and a Latin text (as in the Complutensian Polyglot) to “enable a reader with little Hebrew to understand the meaning of the Scriptures in his own language.”[40] It seems agreeable to suggest and affirm that the Targum serves as an appropriate and practical source to obtain a general understanding of the Hebrew text, which will definitely aid the textual scholar in analyzing obscure passages.

Second, there is the New Testament, which is a virtual galaxy of Old Testament citations and allusions as it connects Jesus and his followers as a continuation -fulfillment- of its message. Consequently, it serves as a proper witness to the passages cited or alluded to. E. E. Ellis writes:

there are some 250 express citations of the Old Testament in the New. If indirect or partial quotations and allusions are added, the total exceeds a thousand.[41]

The Greek New Testament, published by the United Bible Society, has 2 notable reference indexes. The first index lists the “Quotations” while the other catalogs “Allusions and Verbal Parallels.”[42]

The New Testament writers used and quoted not only the Hebrew Bible, but also the LXX (with some variations suggesting different Greek translations), and other sources such as the Old Testament Targums.[43] In addition, the New Testament, in terms of textual evidence (manuscript, early version, and patristic quotations), is the most attested document from antiquity[44] emphasizes the reliability of the New Testament evidence for the Old Testament.[45]

Concluding Thoughts

In summation, we have examined some of the evidence in a survey and observed that the typical skeptical claim against the Bible is fallacious. We are more than confident that the textual transmission of the Bible has adequately preserved the Bible. There are so many avenues from which data pours in that for all practical purposes the gap from these extant materials to the originals is irrelevant. Gaps of greater magnitude exist for other works of antiquity, but no finger of resistance is pressed against their adequate representation of the autographic materials.

The Bible experiences this sort of attack partly because ignorant friends of the Bible fighting with a broken sword affirm that we have the Bible and that it has no textual problems. Other times, skeptics misrepresent textual studies of the Bible in order to support their case that the Bible is not the inerrant inspired word of God. Be that as it may, the scribal evidence demands that the scribes held a high reverence and professionalism in the transmission of the text, the textual evidence is, though having some problems, near 100 percent sound. Moreover, the New Testament and Talmud are examples of sources that uphold the Biblical text and allow textual scholars to examine the accuracy of the textual data.

Finally, the skeptical attack has been viewed a considered only for it to be concluded that it is fallacious and of no need to be considered a viable position based on the evidence. In connection with this conclusion, observe 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. He 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.[46]

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?.”[47]

Endnotes

  1. Donald Morgan, “Introduction to the Bible and Biblical Problems,” Infidels Online (Accessed 2003). Mr. Morgan is just a classic example of the skepticism that many share regarding the integrity of the biblical record.
  2. Daniel Arnaud, “Scribes and Literature,” NEA 63.4 (2000): 199.
  3. J. W. Martin, et al., “Texts and Versions,” in The New Bible Dictionary, eds. J. D. Douglas (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1962), 1254.
  4. Fredrick C. Grant, Translating the Bible (Greenwich, CT: Seabury, 1961), 8 (emph. added).
  5. Grant, Translating the Bible, 10-11.
  6. Flavius Josephus, The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged, trans. William Whiston (repr., Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1987).
  7. Clyde M. Woods, “Can we be Certain of the Text? – Old Testament,” in God’s Word for Today’s World: The Biblical Doctrine of Scripture (Kosciusko, MI: Magnolia Bible College, 1986), 98.
  8. Martin, et al., “Texts and Versions,” 1255; René Paché, The Inspiration and Authority of Scripture, trans. Helen I. Needham (Chicago, IL: Moody, 1969), 187.
  9. Neil R. Lightfoot, How We Got the Bible, 2d ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2001), 92.
  10. Lightfoot, How We Got the Bible, 92.
  11. Peter C. Craigie, The Old Testament: Its Background, Growth, and Content (Nashville, TN: Abingdon, 1986), 32.
  12. English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2001), ix.
  13. Lightfoot, How We Got the Bible, 91.
  14. Robert D. Wilson, A Scientific Investigation of the Old Testament, revised ed., Edward J. Young (Chicago, IL: Moody, 1967), .
  15. ctd. in Paché, Inspiration and Authority of Scripture, 189–90.
  16. Craigie, The Old Testament, 34.
  17. Dowell Flatt, “Can we be Certain of the Text? – New Testament,” in God’s Word for Today’s World: The Biblical Doctrine of Scripture (Kosciusko, MI: Magnolia Bible College, 1986), 104: “The books of the New Testament were originally copied by amateurs,” the variants multiplied from persecution pressures and translations issues up until the “standardization of the text” in the 4th to 8th centuries A.D.
  18. Woods, “Can we be Certain of the Text?,” 96.
  19. Donald E. Demaray, Bible Study Sourcebook, (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1964), 35; Flatt, “Can we be Certain of the Text?,” 106.
  20. Lightfoot, How We Got the Bible, 90.
  21. Martin, et al., “Texts and Versions,” 1256-57; Paché, Inspiration and Authority of Scripture, 187-88; F. C. Grant notes that the Synagogue of Old Cairo’s Geniza has been found, throwing “great light upon Biblical studies” (Translating the Bible, 40). Biblical scrolls were discovered from 1890 and, onwards including Targums and rabbinic literature (Martin, et al., “Texts and Versions,” 1256-57).
  22. Michael Grant, The Roman Emperors: a Biographical Guide to the Rulers of Imperial Rome 31 B.C.–A.D. 476 (1985; repr., New York, NY: Barnes & Noble, 1997), 208.
  23. Grant, Translating the Bible, 208.
  24. Lightfoot, How We Got the Bible, 90.
  25. Bruce K. Waltke, “Old Testament Textual Criticism,” in Foundations for Biblical Interpretation, eds. David S. Dockery, et al. (Nashville, TN: Broadman, 1994), 159-68.
  26. Matthew S. DeMoss, Pocket Dictionary for the Study of New Testament Greek (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity, 2001), 128.
  27. Craigie, The Old Testament, 32-37.
  28. Craigie, The Old Testament, 36, 32.
  29. Craigie, The Old Testament, 34.
  30. Waltke, “Old Testament Textual Criticism,” 162.
  31. Waltke, “Old Testament Textual Criticism,” 163.
  32. H. G. G. Herklots, How Our Bible Came to Us: Its Texts and Versions (New York, NY: Oxford University, 1957), 29-40, 109-23
  33. Herklots, How Our Bible Came to Us, 116-23, Waltke, “Old Testament Textual Criticism,” 164-167.
  34. Waltke, “Old Testament Textual Criticism,” 157.
  35. Waltke, “Old Testament Textual Criticism,” 157-58.
  36. qtd. in Waltke, “Old Testament Textual Criticism,” 157.
  37. D. F. Payne, “Targums,” in The New Bible Dictionary, ed. J. D. Douglas (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1962), 1238.
  38. Payne, “Targums,” 1238.
  39. Payne, “Targums,” 1239.
  40. Herklots, How Our Bible Came to Us, 35-36.
  41. E. E. Ellis, “Quotations (in the New Testament),” in The New Bible Dictionary, ed. J. D. Douglas (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1962), 1071.
  42. Barbara Aland, et al., eds., The Greek New Testament, 4th rev. ed. (Stuttgart: United Bible Societies, 2002), 887-901.
  43. Ellis, “Quotations (in the New Testament),” 1071.
  44. Wayne Jackson, Fortify Your Faith In an Age of Doubt (Montgomery, AL: Apologetics Press, 1974), 70-75.
  45. Harry Rimmer, Internal Evidence of Inspiration, 7th edition (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1946), 36.
  46. Wilson, A Scientific Investigation of the Old Testament, 98.

Bibliography

Aland, Barbara, et al. Editors. The Greek New Testament. 4th rev. ed. Stuttgart: United Bible Societies, 2002.

Arnaud, Daniel. “Scribes and Literature.” NEA 63.4 (2000): 199.

Craigie, Peter C. The Old Testament: Its Background, Growth, and Content. Nashville, TN: Abingdon, 1986.

Demaray, Donald E. Bible Study Sourcebook. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1964.

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

Ellis, E. E. “Quotations (in the New Testament).” Page 1071 in The New Bible Dictionary. Edited by J. D. Douglas. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1962.

Flatt, Dowell. “Can we be Certain of the Text? – New Testament.” Pages 103-10 in God’s Word for Today’s World: the Biblical Doctrine of Scripture. Don Jackson, Samuel Jones, Cecil May, Jr., and Donald R. Taylor. Kosciusko, MS: Magnolia Bible College, 1986.

Grant, Fredrick C. Translating the Bible. Greenwich, CT: Seabury, 1961.

Grant, Michael. The Roman Emperors: a Biographical Guide to the Rulers of Imperial Rome 31 B.C.–A.D. 476. 1985. Repr., New York, NY: Barnes, 1997.

Herklots, H. G. G. How Our Bible Came to Us: Its Texts and Versions. New York, NY: Oxford University, 1957.

Jackson, Wayne. Fortify Your Faith In an Age of Doubt. Montgomery, AL: Apologetics Press, 1974.

Josephus, Flavius. The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged. Translated by William Whiston. Repr. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1987.

Lightfoot, Neil R. How We Got the Bible. 2d edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2001.

Martin, W. J., et. al. “Texts and Versions.” Pages 1254-69 in The New Bible Dictionary. Edited by J. D. Douglas. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1962.

Morgan, Donald. “Introduction to the Bible and Biblical Problems.” Infidels Online.

Paché, René. The Inspiration and Authority of Scripture. Translated by Helen I. Needham. Chicago, IL: Moody, 1969.

Payne, D.F. “Targums.” Pages 1238-39 in The New Bible Dictionary. Edited by J. D. Douglas. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1962.

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

Waltke, Bruce K. “Old Testament Textual Criticism.” Pages 156-86 in Foundations for Biblical Interpretation. Edited by David S. Dockery, Kenneth A. Mathews, and Robert B. Sloan. Nashville, TN: Broadman, 1994.

Wilson, Robert D. A Scientific Investigation of the Old Testament. Revised edition. Revised by Edward J Young. Chicago, IL: Moody Press, 1967.

Woods, Clyde. “Can we be Certain of the Text? – Old Testament.” Pages 94-102 in God’s Word for Today’s World: the Biblical Doctrine of Scripture. Don Jackson, Samuel Jones, Cecil May, Jr., and Donald R. Taylor. Kosciusko, MS: Magnolia Bible College, 1986.


Titus 1:2: Does God Choose Not to Lie?

Recently, in discussing the character and omnipotence of God Titus 1:2 was cited to extend the argument that while God may have all power (omnipotence) to do what lends itself to being accomplished, there are certain tensions one must also accept. Namely, there are some things God cannot do or be. Despite having all power God does not tempt people to do evil (Jas 1:13), nor is it possible for God to lie (Heb 6:18). It was argued then that temptation and deception are against his nature despite all of his power.

Is Choice Implied?

There seemed to be some confusion, however, based on the translation of the phrase ho apseudēs theos, “God, who does not lie” (NIV, REB, NAB), “God, never lies” (ESV, NRSV), and the older, “God, who cannot lie” (KJV, NKJV, ASV, NASB95). These are the most common translations of two terms in Titus 1:2, the adjective apseudēs (truthful/deceitless) and God (theos).

It was suggested in a discussion that the translation of the NIV (cf. LEB, REB, NABR, TEV, NIRV, JB, NLT), could lend itself to the notion that it is possible for God to lie but He does not because He chooses not to lie. This would reframe the discussion of the nature and character of God by opening the possibility that God is good by choice rather than being good by nature.

This raises the question of whether the character of God is immutable, that is whether his holy character changes over time or not. The immutability of God means, for example, that God is holy and will always be holy.[1] On this view, there will never be a time when God is not holy. If God’s character is mutable (subject to change), however, then it is possible for God to act in an unholy manner. This view is inconsistent with the overall theme of God’s infinite holy character.

Does Titus 1:2 lend itself as evidence to this point of view? No, for three reasons. First, the term apseudēs is used in various Greek sources as a description (as an adjective) for “gods and divine things.”[2] Second, the adjective is verbless and without action. Third, the context of the letter to Titus contrasts the lying Cretans (1:12) against the truthful God (1:2).

The Adjective

First. Apseudēs is used in various Greek sources as a description (an adjective) for “gods and divine things”; however, Titus 1:2 is its only biblical use. It is also found once in Greek Jewish wisdom literature regarding the “unerring knowledge” given by God (Sirach 7:17 NRSV). Unlike the usual positive word for “truth” in the NT (alétheia), apseudēs is a negative word (non-liar) which means: “without lie and deceit, … sincere, trusty,”[3] “free from all deceit, … trustworthy,”[4] and “pertaining to not speaking falsehood — ‘truthful.’”[5]

The word is a striking description of “divine beings” and God. This use is found between the 5th century BC to the early second century AD.[6] Paul is known to quote ancient Greek sources as in the probable use of the playwright Menander in 1 Corinthians 15:33: “Bad company ruins good morals” (Thais). Paul used the infamous saying of the Cretan teacher named Epimenides (500 BC) in Titus 1:12: “Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, lazy gluttons.”

Plato said, “the divine and the divinity are free from falsehood” and “that Phoebus’ divine mouth could not lie” (Republic 2.382e, 383b). Ignatius, a known disciple of John, spoke of Jesus’ mouth as “the unerring mouth” of revelation (Romans 8.2). In the Martyrdom of Polycarp, Polycarp prays to God at his death “you are the unerring and true God” (14.2). Greeks used the term to describe their gods; meanwhile, Christians used it to describe the true God.[7]

It is important to remember that Paul leans on the thought patterns of the Hebrew Bible (Rom 3:3–4, 2 Tim 2:13).[8] Balaam spoke the Lord’s word when he said, “God is not man, that he should lie” (Num 23:19), and Samuel told King Saul that “the Glory of Israel [i.e. God] will not lie…” (1 Sam 15:29). Likewise, in keeping with these verses are the inspired words, “it is impossible for God to lie” (Heb 6:18).

The Descriptive

Second. The adjective is verbless and without action. In English, adjectives often are said to describe a person, place, thing, or function. For example, “it was a fast train” and “the clock was fast.” In Greek, however, the adjective can function in two technical ways, it either (a) makes an assertion about the noun — the word is good (predicate), or (b) limits or tells what noun we are referring to — the good word (attributive). The adjective, then, “modifies a noun by ascribing a quality to it.”[9]

Here are a couple of examples of how this plays out in other passages with a similar grammatical structure as Titus 1:2:

  • “the first day” = “the day — namely the first one” (Phil 1:5)
  • “the good shepherd” = “the shepherd — namely the good one” (John 10:11)
  • “the good wine” = “the wine — namely the good one” (John 2:10)

In the same way, the adjective here describes God as deceitless, not that God chooses to not lie. He is God — namely the deceitless One. Thus, Titus 1:2 is not a statement of action, but a description of Divine character (God’s attributes). God does not lie because God is void of falseness.

The Contextual Purpose

Third. The context of the letter to Titus contrasts the lying Cretans (1:12) against the truthful God (1:2). The description of God as apseudēs (deceitless) is in contrast to the Cretans who are pseustai — liars. It is the only time both words are used in Titus. The significance of the connection is found in 1:2, speaking of the hope of eternal life established by God who is deceitless in the quality of His character (Heb 6:18). This message and hope are contrasted with the teachers on the island of Crete who are asserted to be deceivers (“liars,” 1:12).

The difference is subtle but the difference is everything.  

Interestingly, Epimenides’ infamous saying is based on the Cretan claim “to possess a tomb of Zeus, who, of course, as a god, cannot have died!”[10] It is said that even in ancient times this was criticized by Callimachus (305–240 BC) as inconceivable that the king of the gods should be dead and buried.[11] The absurdity illustrates the need to reject and silence the false teachers who are equally “liars,” opportunists, and reject the truth (Titus 1:10-16).

Titus, on the other hand, bears a message of hope and salvation, and embraces truth (1:1) because it issues from the “God, whose very nature is the absence of falsehood.”[12]

Conclusion

This short piece only reminds us that human language has limits when we engage “God talk” (i.e., theology), but we can usually find a reasonable understanding.

Does Titus 1:2 suggest that God chooses to be truthful and not lie, or is this a statement about God’s character as being deceitless, a non-liar? The above lines of reasoning suggest that the Greek phrase ho apseudēs theos is a description of God’s character, God — namely the deceitless God.

Unfortunately, to make the thought more natural in English translations supply an action verb, but this is not the sense. Still, it is perhaps best, but not perfect, to translate Titus 1:2 as: “Our God is no liar” (The Voice).

Endnotes

  1. R. C. Sproul, What Can We Know About God? (Orlando, FL: Reformation Trust, 2017), 8.
  2. Martin Dibelius and Hans Conzelmann, Pastoral Epistles, trans. P. Buttolph and A. Yarbro (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1972), 131.
  3. H. G. Liddell, Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon, electronic ed. (1888; repr., Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, 1996), 142.
  4. BDAG 161.
  5. L&N 88.40.
  6. Dibelius and Conzelmann, Pastoral Epistles, 131.
  7. BDAG 161
  8. George W. knight, III. Pastoral Epistles (1992; repr., Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 284.
  9. James A. Brooks and Carolton L. Winbery, Syntax of New Testament Greek (1979; repr., Lanham: University Press of America, 1988), 70.
  10. Gordon D. Fee, 1 and 2 Timothy, Titus (1988; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 2000), 179.
  11. Ralph P. Martin, “1, 2 Timothy, Titus,” in Harper’s Bible Commentary, ed. James L. Mays (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988), 1243.
  12. Homer A. Kent, Jr., The Pastoral Epistles: Studies in 1 and 2 Timothy and Titus, rev. ed. (1986; repr., Winona Lake, IN: BMH Books, 2006), 210.

Sources

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, et al. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 3rd edition. Chicago: University of Chicago, 2000.

Brooks, J.A., and C.L. Winbery. Syntax of New Testament Greek. 1979. Reprint, Lanham: University Press of America, 1988.

Dibelius, M., and H. Conzelmann. Pastoral Epistles. Trans. P. Buttolph and A. Yarbro. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1972.

Fee, Gordon D. 1 and 2 Timothy, Titus. 1988. Reprint, Peabody: Hendrickson, 2000.

Kent, H.A., Jr. The Pastoral Epistles: Studies in 1 and 2 Timothy and Titus. Revised ed. 1986. Reprint, Winona Lake, IN: BMH Books, 2006.

Knight, George W., III. Pastoral Epistles. 1992. Reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013.

(L&N) Louw, J.P., and E.A. Nida. A Greek-English Lexicon Based on Semantic Domains. 2d edition. New York: United Bible Societies, 1996.

Liddell, H.G. Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon. 1888. Reprint, Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, 1996.

Martin, Ralph P. “1, 2 Timothy, Titus” in Harper’s Bible Commentary, edited by James L. Mays. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988.

Sproul, R. C. What Can We Know About God? Orlando, FL: Reformation Trust, 2017.

The Humanity of Jesus the Son

The phrases Jesus Christ, the Christ of faith, the Jesus of history, and Jesus the Divine Son all reflect significant themes pertaining to the central figure of the New Testament, Jesus of Nazareth. These concepts fall within a specialized area of theology known as Christology, which is a systematic “study of Christ” based on the full biblical picture derived from scripture.

A bit more formally, this field of study speaks to the Christian endeavor to map Jesus’ placement within “time and eternity, humanity and divinity, particularity and universality.” It answers how the life of a seemingly benign first-century Jewish rabbi could be so “relevant for all people and all times” (McGrath 2017, 207).

The present discussion maps Jesus’ Son-relationship in the triune unity of God, and the nature of his humanity. It then reflects on how the humanity of Jesus is relevant to the Christian’s personal walk before God.

Jesus the Son and the Trinity

The Trinitarian Formula

The divinity of Jesus is established in many passages of the New Testament. For example, Matthew closes with an appearance of Jesus where he affirms his authority “in heaven and on earth.” With this authority, he commissions his disciples for an international burden,

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (28:18–19 NRSV). [All Scripture references are from the New Revised Standard Version unless otherwise noted.]

Three themes are clear in this passage: Jesus’ divine authority, discipleship made in baptism, and the trinitarian language of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In the early generations of the church, the above trinitarian formula would represent a highly nuanced concept of monotheism affirmed to be in continuity with the “one God” of the Hebrew Bible.

What forced early Jewish Christians to accept this nuanced view of monotheism? The answer: the character and nature of Jesus did. It is not subversive of the “oneness” of God (Deut 6:4) but depends on the New Testament’s clarification that the “one God” is not a simplistic model. As the clarification argues, the Divine Son is not God the Father, nor is he the Holy Spirit. This raises tough questions that the historical church has discussed in earnest and in conflict for generations.

How do we map this out theologically?

The Divine Son Portrayed

We turn to the presence of Jesus and how He is portrayed in relation to the Father and the Holy Spirit.

In the first century, the prologue to the Fourth Gospel (John 1:1–3, 14) affirms that the person and nature of Jesus is the driving force to reshape the whole biblical landscape of the concept of God (Gen 1:1; Exod 20:11).

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being... And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John 1:1–3a, 14) 

Jesus not only pre-existed as the lógos at the time of creation (John 1:1), but he also “emptied” (ekénōsen) himself to take on the “form [morphē] of a slave”—a human (Phil 2:6–7). Leaning heavily on John 1:14, the Alexandrian theologian, Athanasius, concluded that this “human body” was taken by this same “Word of God” (Placher 2003, 184).

On this view, there was no room within this theology for Arius’ affirmation that Jesus the Son—the Word—was a created being who subsequently became divine. This view reduced Jesus to a creature impotent to redeem humanity (McGrath 2017, 217–19).

The Divine Association

As McGrath (2017, 214) chronicles, the divinity of Christ was one of the first major theological battles of the early church as it sought to hammer out its understanding of the contours of a very genuine human being in Jesus who, at the same time, was portrayed as being more than a mere human. The “battle” was not over the deity of Christ as such (that was established), but how to understand the relationship between his humanity and his divinity.

The divinity of Jesus was therefore accepted as true as his humanity—as affirmed in Chalcedon (AD 451)—which means that the question left to map out was the relationship between Jesus and the Father and the Holy Spirit.

The only way to do this is by evaluating Scripture (Jenson 2003, 194). Despite certain reservations, Jenson argues clearly that Peter’s application of the divine title “Lord” from Joel 2 (kyrios LXX) to Jesus in Acts 2:33–34 (kyrios) demonstrates that

the risen Christ, without violation of God’s singularity, does what only the God of Israel himself does, and that he does this precisely by virtue of his situation with the God of Israel. (2003, 194)

Jensen in Essentials of Christian Theology (2003)

Jensen points out that the emerging notion of association that comes from the word “with” points to the “inescapably observable fact” that the biblical narrative is framed by three divine characters in its drama (2003, 195): the God of Israel, Jesus his Son, and the life-giving Spirit of God.

Agreeing with Jenson (2003, 196), Jesus should not be viewed as a mere successive mode of God’s presence in time (modalism) or as the Father’s subordinate agent with the Spirit in time (subordinationism). Instead, Jesus maintains an eternally mutual and reciprocal relationship with the Father and the Spirit. For this reason, ancient Christians used an analogy inspired by the theater, that is to say, that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit although three in persona (mask) are one in Divine substance. Another model is found in Martin Buber’s I-You relationship model (McGrath 2017,179–80).

Understanding the Humanity of Jesus

What, then, goes into mapping this theological tension of the Son and the Trinity?

Mapping the nature of Jesus’ humanity—in balance with his divinity—requires great caution. The traditional doctrine of the incarnation (literally, “becoming bodily”) affirms both the full humanity of Jesus and his divinity. Any attempt to isolate what is organically interwoven in the person and work of Jesus runs a high risk of distortion.

Overcompensating to account for the humanity of Jesus has typically been met with the “stamp” of heresy. Three, in particular, are Ebionism, Arianism, and Docetism (McGrath 2017, 214–20). 

The roots of Ebionism are Jewish. It framed Jesus through the lenses of a human prophet, as called and anointed by the Holy Spirit. As a low Christology, Jesus is only a “spiritually superior” human. This does not align with the picture of his eternal pre-existence as Creator.

Plotted on another point on the map is Arianism (named after Arius), which called into question the “fully divine” and “fully human” affirmation due to an irreconcilable application of the Greek notion of divine impassability and the doctrine of the incarnation. God cannot be both changeable (fully human) and transcendent (fully divine), therefore, the incarnation strikes at the perfect nature of the one God. Jesus must therefore be a “superior created being” with nothing divine to report. This failed to account for the actual testimony of the gospels where in fact this is possible.

Meanwhile, Docetism affirmed, with its hardline separation of God and the present evil world of matter (due to its gnostic foundation), the divine incarnation of John 1:14 was nothing more than “pretend.” The heresy’s name (or tendency) is derived from the Greek word dokéō (“to seem”) affirming Jesus only “seemed” to have a body in which he suffered and died, making the incarnation “into a fake” (Placher 2003, 183). Scripturally, the work of Christ is dependent on the fully human (Luke 24:38–39) and fully divine Jesus manifested in the death of the cross and resurrection from the dead (Rom 1:3–4).

Similarly, the opening line of 1 John affirms the humanity of the “Word of Life”: “what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands” (1:1).

Likewise, in the second century CE, Ignatius of Antioch (ca. 35–ca. 110) stressed his concern to the Christians of Trallia that they should guard against (“be deaf,” kōphóthēte 9.1) anything which undermines the humanity of Christ with the following words:

Jesus Christ, who was of the family of David, who was the son of Mary; who really was born, who both ate and drank; who really was persecuted under Pontius Pilate, who really was crucified and died while those in heaven and on earth and under the earth look on; who, moreover, really was raised from the dead when his Father raised him up, who—his Father, that is—in the same way will likewise also raise us up in Christ Jesus who believe in him, apart from whom we have no true life. (“To the Trallians” 9.1–2)

Ignatius of Antioch, “To the Trallians” 9.1-2

The example of Ignatius is interesting because it is early and strongly affirms Jesus’ human form, “who really” (hos alethōs) an adverb repeated four times to assert what is true, actual because it corresponds to what is really so (BDAG 44). For Ignatius, Jesus actually was born, ate and drank, persecuted, crucified and died, and raised from the dead. Ignatius saw denying the humanity of Christ as subversive to the soteriological (the saving, redeeming) and eschatological (end times, fulfilling) work of Christ.

What Does This Mean?

What then does it mean for the Christian that God became flesh to redeem us in the person of Jesus Christ? Two extremes must be cautioned against here. One extreme is to moralize the life of Jesus (1 Pet 2:21), and as such reduces Jesus to a mere good teacher. Another extreme is to make Jesus’ life and teaching into a disjointed symbolic presence of God (i.e., Paul Tillich).

The humanity of Jesus provides me with a great deal of assurance as a believer that God knows through Christ the human plight. Jesus has “assumed all” and can, therefore “heal all” of humanity (Placher 2003, 184). When the “name” Immanuel (“God is with us”) is given to Jesus (Matt 1:23) the associated promise is that “he will save his people from their sins (Matt 1:21). God’s presence in the human child to be born provides a personal locus that can be isolated to time, space, and history.

For all humans, it then becomes quite clear that God is joining the human continuum to reconcile not only “us” but also “the world to himself” in Christ (2 Cor 5:18–19). Paul’s application has massive personal repercussions,

“if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (5:17) 

The humanity of Jesus is not simply a modal expression of God, but God entering into time and space to save, forgive, reconcile, and renew humanity and creation.

It provides the seedbed to take the particular localized Jesus and affirm his enduring value for all humans for all time. As Ignatius wrote, God “will likewise also raise us up in Christ Jesus who believe in him, apart from whom we have no true life” (“To the Trallians” 9.2).

Truly, the humanity of the God-Man Jesus is relevant for the Christian’s personal walk before God because it is the seedbed for all our hopes, especially, hope for the resurrection (1 Cor 15:12–19).

Bibliography

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, Frederick W. Danker, W. F. Ardnt, and F. W. Gingrich. 2000. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 3rd edition. Chicago: University of Chicago.

Ignatius. 1999. “The Letters of Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch.” Pages 128–201 in The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. 2d edition. Edited and revised by Michael W. Holmes. Grand Rapids: Baker Books.

Jenson, Robert W. 2003. “Does Jesus Make a Difference? The Person and Work of Jesus Christ” Pages 191–205 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville, Kent: Westminster John Knox.

McGrath, Alister E. 2017. Christian Theology: An Introduction. 6th edition. Maldon, Ma: Wiley Blackwell.

Placher, William C. 2003. “Does Jesus Make a Difference? The Person and Work of Jesus Christ” Pages 183–91 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville, Kent: Westminster John Knox.

The Word of God among the Denominations

Reprinted with permission from the February 2018 issue of Gospel Advocate Magazine.

20180124_150851.jpg

Hebrews affirms, “For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (4:12 ESV). This is part of a warning in Hebrews, which affirms that Christians who defect from God will fail to meet their rest as their Israelite counterparts did (vv. 1-11). God holds his people —and His creation— accountable by His presence (“sight”) in the word of God (Hebrews 4:13). This is a raw incontrovertible truth.

This passage makes no caveats; it makes no attempt to remedy a distinction between God’s word and God’s presence. They are both manifested at the same time. God is involved with real life (time and space) with Israel and with Christians. God makes promises and keeps his word regarding their “rest,” and God holds His people and creation accountable to His word. God is Lord of heaven and earth and everything in between, and He holds it together by the power residing in Jesus (Hebrews 1:3; Colossians 1:17). The word of God is connected not only to the authority of God but also to His nature and how He reveals Himself to the world.

Let me say the above in a differently. Our God, who is beyond time and space (God’s transcendence), enters our earthly “realm” bound by time and space (God’s immanence) with His divinity and authority (sovereignty) intact; furthermore, God enters into relationship with His creation (Abraham, Israel, Christians) by revealing Himself in creation and in His word. God is active both in creation and in His word. Creation reveals God’s existence and hints at elements of His attributes (natural theology), but it is His word that reveals God and His “will” so that humanity can enter into covenant with God. The word of God was both proclaimed orally through particular spokesmen (patriarchs, prophets, kings, apostles), but the prophetic word was not only through oracles but also in written communiqués embedded with the same divine authority (2 Peter 1:16–21). These writings reveal the mind of God (1 Corinthians 2:11–16), His purposes and mystery (Ephesians 3:1–6), His involvement in human events (Acts 17:26–27), and the righteousness by which He will bring justice to the world (Acts 17:30–31).

To say it bluntly, the Bible is the word of God set in a permanent written form. Paul declared, “all scripture is breathed out by God” (2 Timothy 3:16). The Scripture bears the character of God and is no “dead” codebook, for it transforms every “man of God” into a competent, equipped servant (2 Timothy 3:17). The profitability of all Scripture is due to its quality as “God’s breath.” There is no pecking order between the spoken or written word of God. The inspired written word is as inerrant as God’s character. There is no source outside of the Holy Spirit-given Scripture that speaks God’s transforming work since it is the depository of the gospel’s message. What the word of God promises, God will do; what God proclaims, God’s holds His creation accountable to (1 Thessalonians 2:13).

The above may seem to belabor the point, but as anticipated by the title of this piece, we will sketch how the word of God is handled among Liberal (Modern) and Neoorthodox influences. It is essential for the church to reflect on these twentieth-century influences because dialogue is healthy, truth has nothing from which to hide, and any redefinition of biblical Christianity must be given due consideration (Galatians 1:6-7).

The following historical sketches will probably not satisfy everyone, but they will be enough to see their direction and how they redefine significant elements of historic Christian beliefs and their tendency to subvert scriptural authority.

Liberalism/Modernism

The word “liberal” is a very loaded word. It is often used with contempt to show disapproval of someone else thought to be progressive (instrumental music, expanded role of women, etc.). But this is not the historic sense of the word. Liberalism emerged in the late nineteenth century through the interplay of many players, thinkers, and philosophical trends. The influence of Liberalism, or Modernism, is seen in three levels: (1) revelation is not the final answer to reality, (2) naturalism is the key to reality and religion, and (3) since the Christian documents are built on ancient myths and superstitions, the historic supernatural claims of Christianity is immaterial. To be a “Christian” is a matter of experience and the “essence” of its teaching.

Liberalism, as an intellectual revolution, is a child of the Age of Reason (the Enlightenment). The “Age” saw the elevation of human reason over the institutional “church,” which wielded divine revelation. It was “the church” that dictated to the people what to believe about reality. Divine revelation was the final answer to determining truth and what really happened in the past. This was displaced with rationalism, scientific history (criticism), and naturalism as final answers to genuine and authentic history and truth. In essence, as Stanley Grenz and Roger Olsen point out, the maxim “I believe in order that I may understand” was turned to “I believe what I can understand.”[1] Faith was overturned by a reason informed by modern findings — thus, this point of view is called “Modernism.”

Everything that was received as genuine knowledge, now, was shaped by the natural world. This was further supported by what is called “the principle of analogy,” popularized by the liberal theologian Ernst Troelsch (1865–1923), which argued that the present is the best way to understand the past. The consequence was detrimental in the extreme on the trustworthiness of Scripture. The supernatural elements interwoven in Scripture are, by definition, myths and superstitions. This meant that there are no miracles, no supernatural interventions by God, and no resurrection of Jesus Christ. Thus, many new schools of “criticism” emerged to study Scripture with mixed results.

This naturally led to an embrace of “the essence of Christianity” so long as reason and experience allowed. “Liberals” are open to the modern findings from the natural world, open to a religious humanism and science —in particularly embracing Darwinian evolution as the process by which God created. If God exists, He could only be revealed through religious “experience.” It was also immaterial if the events of Scripture happened or not because religion is a condition of the heart. Yet, the apostle Paul makes it abundantly clear that if the resurrection event has not occurred, both our preaching and faith are in vain and we are still in our sins (1 Corinthians 15:14, 17).

Another arm of Liberalism is the demythologizing of the New Testament pioneered by the “Form Critic” Rudolf Bultmann (1884–1976). Bultmann argued that historic person of Jesus is built on untrustworthy sources. The New Testament is Christian propaganda shrouded in the imagery of the Greek myths and Roman legends. As such, they are not relevant for faith nor spiritual truth claims. It is the symbolism that matters. Today, one only need to watch the latest “history” programming to find modern theological liberals interviewed. Theological liberalism has significant questions that need to be answered, but it brings Christianity to a logical dead end.

Neoorthodoxy

The Swiss theologian Karl Barth (1886–1968) ignited a movement when he published his commentary on Romans in 1919. It charted a new theological direction away from Liberalism/Modernism. Barth (pronounced “bart”) was not fond of the misnomer “neoorthodoxy,” but his strand of thinking regarding the meaning of “revelation” and “the word of God” would rival the prevailing traditional belief held historically by the church. As a consequence, many regard Barth as one of the great theologians and the father of modern theology.

Orthodoxy affirms the teaching of historic Christian truth based on Scripture. This includes, for example, the following concepts: the inerrant inspiration of scripture, the triune Godhead, the deity and virgin birth of Christ, the historic creation and fall of humanity, the bodily resurrection and ascension of Christ, the return and final judgment. Barth argued, on the other hand, that “revealed truth” was not written, but was the outcome of an encounter (an experience) with God. Thus, instead of scripture as being the objective word of God, Barth argued for a subjective experience with God initiated by reading the Bible.

Barth was offering a completely different course of thought altogether. “Revelation” does not appear in the form of propositional truths. Arguing book, chapter, verse, or appeals to the very words of scripture is insufficient to reveal God. Revelation (the word of God), it is argued, is an “event” in which God acts in history (God’s immanence). Barth even argued that revelation is not found in natural theology (Acts 17; Psalm 19; Romans 1) but, instead, in events like the call of Abraham, the exodus, and the resurrection. Millard Erickson is spot on when he classifies Neoorthodoxy as an illumination theory divorced from an objective standard.[2]

Although Neoorthodoxy is not a unified movement, there are three interconnected witnesses (modes/forms) that shape its view on revelation.[3] First, Jesus is the word of God in the truest sense, for He reveals God in the event of His incarnation, life, ministry, death and resurrection. This is true revelation, the very gospel. Second, Scripture points to Jesus but it is a flawed human (read “errant”) attempt to provide a witness to divine revelation. It is instrumentally God’s word but not properly. Third, the proclamation within the faith community —Barth preferred “community” to church— is likewise instrumentally God’s word. The Bible, then, only becomes God’s word when God uses it to reveal Jesus Christ in the encounter, contrary to 2 Timothy 3:16.

In fact, Neo-orthodoxy is quite a popular approach to handling the Word of God, even among churches of Christ. A popular theological branch of this movement is “Canonical Criticism,” popularized by the late American scholar Brevard Childs (1923–2007). It seeks to broadly bypass much of the liberal destructive criticism of the twentieth century by accepting the texts of Scripture as literary units. Nevertheless, this point of view struggles, as did Barth’s, to embrace the Bible as a very human (errant) book while appealing to its authority for theological thought as if they were inerrant. They seek, in the words of one sympathetic Abilene Christian University professor, to “articulate a doctrine of Scripture that recognizes human flaws in it.”[4] Treating the Bible as an inerrant text is simply a form of bibliolatry.

Keeping the Faith

Today, the phrase “Word of God” means different things to different believers, and that includes preachers. Liberalism ultimately rejects a supernatural Christian faith, and is at home with amputating its historic claims of a resurrected ascended Lord Jesus, in exchange for a subjective diluted Christianity. Neoorthodoxy, on the other hand, embraces a supernatural Christian faith, but it rejects the supernatural origin, inerrancy, and authority of the Scriptures which undergird its claims. The Word of God has always been a manifestation of God’s presence in our lives, in His proclamation, and in His Scripture without pecking order. Let us join Paul who declares, “Let God be true though every one were a liar” (Romans 3:4).

Notes

  1. Stanley J. Grenz and Roger E. Olsen, 20th Century Theology (Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1992), 17.
  2. Millard J. Erickson, Christian Theology, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, Baker Academic, 2013), 220–21.
  3. Karl Barth, Evangelical Theology: An Introduction, trans. G. Foley (New York: Holt, 1963), 26–36.
  4. Christopher Hutson, “Scripture as the Human Word of God: Why Faith Contradicts Inerrancy,” Lexington Theological Quarterly 44.1 (2011): 210–21. Hutson serves as a professor of ministry and missions at Abilene Christian University.

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Little Did They Know: The Prose Sections of Job (1:1-2:13; 42:7-17)

college papers

The prose section of the book of Job receives a variety of approaches, but the most consistent approach is to treat it as a separate folk-tale which existed independently than the present canonical form. This “campfire” tale, or this moral free legend, had grown sufficient credibility to take on a permanent form within a community. Then an unknown poet emerges who takes the folk-tale[1] and formalizes it with a series of poetic discourses and creates an extended edition, the present form of the book of Job. As such, questions emerge as to the continuity between the prose sections (1:1-2:13; 42:7-17) and the poetic sections (3:1-42:6). This source critical approach makes an assumption that the book of Job is the result of significant editorial activity, suggesting that the book has undergone considerable layering and updating. Robert Fyall argues that such a possibility does not “in itself” deny divine inspiration but it only makes poor sense in Job’s connection to the biblical canon.[2] As such, “the question of the relationship of the prologue (chs. 1-2) and the epilogue (42:10-17) to the poetic dialogue must be explored.”[3]

Nevertheless, despite the reticence among some scholars to see a significant degree of continuity vital to understanding the tensions, themes, and argument of the present form of the book of Job, it is argued here that a proper understanding of Job does not rely upon the theoretical pre-canonical form of the two independent traditions.[4] Instead, there is a “logical coherence” between the prologue, the poetic discourses, and the epilogue.[5] It is argued here that the prose sections play an integral part to understanding the canonical form of the book of Job. The style and vocabulary purposely represents an ANE setting apart of Israelite religion in the tradition of the dramatic epic, and sets the wisdom and theodicy debate in a historical context like that of the Hebrew patriarchs (Abraham, Moses). The prose sections place a large emphasis upon the heavenly court which anchors the theology and drama of the poetic discourses.

The Integral Nature of the Prose Sections

First, the prose sections play an integral part to understanding the canonical form of the book of Job. In proportion to the bulk of the book this may seem to overstate the weight of the prose sections in Job. As Bernhard Anderson argues, “if we are to understand the viewpoint of the author of Job we must rely primarily on the poems rather than on the prologue and epilogue.”[6] Nevertheless, Anderson concedes that the poems are only effective because they are “framed within the context of the folk story.”[7] The book of Job is framed by “the life-situation that occasions the poetic meditations.”[8] In general, the framework of narrative transitions are, as Robert Alter observes, an act of conscious narration “in order to reveal the imperative truth of God’s works in history.”[9] The function of the prologue and the epilogue, then, is to bracket in the core discussion of Job and this is accomplished by setting the plot, the tensions, and the characters which will enter the fray of the poetic discourses in Job 3:1-42:6.

The limits of the prose sections of Job are substantially agreed upon.[10] The usual limits of the prologue of Job are from 1:1-2:13. First, the prologue has natural and literary limits. A reading of the first chapters of Job lends its to a natural outline of a narrative that transitions to a series of discourses, but as James Patrick observes there are a series of “speech ascriptions” which provides a literary limit to the prologue in particular and the speech cycles in general (“Job opened his mouth… Job said”[11]).[12] This marks the closing limit of the prologue, which as “the frame-story of Job”[13] will find its themes continued in the poetic body of the Jobine discourses (3:3-42:6).[14] Second, the prologue, then, introduces the tension of the worthiness of God to be served, the sincerity of Job’s faith, the heavenly court and the “wager” (so Anderson), the earthly trials and suffering of a pious and prosperous patriarch, and the interaction among the heavenly realms (Yahweh, The Satan, Heavenly Court) and the earthly realm (skeptic wife, the three friends, Job the hurting) where the narrative will transition to the core discussions of the book.

The epilogue, on the other hand, is generally considered to begin in Job 42:7 and ends in 42:17.[15] First, reading the closing chapters of Job, the transition from discourse (“I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes”) to the actions agrees with the usual outline of Job. There are however literary markers to distinguish between 42:6 and 7. John Hartley’s observation gives a semantic starting point to the epilogue with words from the Lord in favor of Job reminiscent of 1:7, and concludes in verse 42:17.[16] Although 42:7 may be viewed as a potential ascription by the narrator before a statement, it lacks the same verb phrase (וַיַּ֖עַן) used to introduce the Lord’s speeches (38:1, 40:1) and Job’s response (42:1). Second, the epilogue, then transitions from the repentance of Job and the demonstration of the wisdom of God and serves as a narrative of resolution. The epilogue the humility and restoration of Job, the tensions removed, and Yahweh honoring Job and dishonoring the three friends who “have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has” (Job 42:7).

Robert H. Pfeiffer, however, nuances the prose sections (“prose folk tale”) by trimming the traditional prologue to 1:1-2:10 and the epilogue as 42:10b-17. Pfeiffer takes 2:11-13 as the introduction to the entire dialogue exchange; meanwhile, 42:7-10a as a part of the dialogue structure of Job.[17] That there is an obvious shift between 2:10 to 2:11 and 42:10a to 42:10b in content is readily conceded. Pfeiffer’s discussion of the structure of Job demonstrates the quality of his imagination to reconstruct the literary development of the book, but it fails to appreciate these verses in the prose sections as transitions within the same narrative event respectively. It is here that a significant warning finds validity: “Dissecting the book of Job into its component parts actually may diminish one’s understanding of its message.”[18] Instead, it is best to appreciate the “harmony and dissonance” between the prose and poetic discourses which force a critical rereading of the themes presented in Job.[19] The prose sections then are a vital part for understanding Job.

The Genre and Hebrew of the Book of Job

Second, the genre and vocabulary of Job represents an Ancient Near Eastern (ANE) setting apart of Israelite religion, set forth in the tradition of the dramatic epic, and sets then the discourses on the wisdom and theodicy in a historical context like that of the Hebrew patriarchs (Abraham, Moses). Epic literature centers upon episodes in the life of a known figure from history, conveying “didactic instruction concerning the gods and their relations with humanity.”[20] This area of study which has some implications for the dating and setting of Job, an area which has as many dates as interpreters. Dates range from late pre-exilic, a period between Jeremiah and Isaiah, or anywhere from the eighth century to the fourth-century B.C.E.[21] Nevertheless, another warning is called to the student of Job: “it is a mistake to infer the age of the writer from the circumstances of the hero of the book.”[22]

The Genre. Craig Broyles reminds that “the Bible must be read literarily before it can be read literally. If we think of Scripture as light (cf. Psa 119:5), exegesis acts like a prism revealing its colors.”[23] The style of the prologue and epilogue show marks of the dramatic narrative genre of the epic placed in the historical setting of reminiscent of the biblical patriarchs. Many scholars concede the point that Job defies specific genre classification (sui generis “self genre”), but on a macro-level it falls generally into the wisdom literature genre which has parallels in Babylon and Egypt.[24] The prose sections, however, seem to have points of contact with the epic elements of Genesis and Ugaritic literature suggesting that the author was either influenced by preexistence literary genre of the epic, or by specific examples.[25] In keeping with epic narratives in Genesis, Job is painted as a patriarch. His wealth is measured by his cattle and servants (1:3; 42:12), he is the head of his family in both paternal and religious aspects (1:5), and his life-span is comparable to known biblical patriarchs (42:16). Also, the Sabeans and the Chaldeans are in the land of Uz (1:15, 17). In general, then, the internal evidence portrays Job “as a Bedouin sheikh, living in the land of Uz, in northwest Arabia.”[26] It is not clear that Job is directly connected to Hebrew family; aside his connection to Uz, which may imply he is an Edomite, not much can be said of his ethnicity.[27] Most likely, Job is not an Israelite and probably predates the Abrahamic covenant.[28]

The epic genre[29] is further seen in the literary structure of the prose sections fit the literary type of epic, which are directed to an “audience” rather than “reading” public. Elements such as repetition and reiteration are symmetrically constructed throughout these sections following the “epic archetype.” These elements are seen in the celestial council (1:6-12, 2:1-7), in detailing the character of Job (1:1, 8, 22, 2:3, 10), and the three successive blows with “formulaic introduction” and “concluding refrain.” Also, the significant use of numbers within the prose sections (1:2, 42:13) is a Near Eastern literary feature, supported externally in Ugaritic epics. Furthermore, the mythology represented by the celestial beings in 1:6 and 1:21 also is a feature of epic drama. Such a concept of an assembly of celestial beings (“the assembly of the gods”) “are well attested,” according to Sarna, “in the Northwest Semitic literary sphere.” There is also the “prominence of women in epic literature” as seen in the daughters of Job. The naming of the daughters in contrast to the sons is inexplicable aside from its parallel use with Baal’s daughters over his seven named sons and other Ugaritic parallels. Moreover, in Mosaic law daughters receive an inheritance in the absence of sons (Num 27:8), Job’s daughters, however, receive theirs along with their brothers (42:15). This particular point details “quite a different social milieu” like that of Ugaritic epics. Internally, Job is placed in an ancient setting which may reflect the truth about his antiquity but may not have sufficient weight in its determining date.

The Vocabulary and Hebrew. Also, the vocabulary and type of Hebrew employed in the prose covers a significant amount of syntactical and semantic ground in the philological history of the Hebrew language and its connection to the Hebrew canon. Avi Hurvitz, however, disputes this assertion. In fact, he developed criteria to inform the Old Testament exegete whether the Hebrew volume under consideration is composed in Late Biblical Hebrew (LBH), as opposed to Early Biblical Hebrew (EBH). After Hurvitz evaluates seven terms and phrases he concludes are LBH in the prologue and epilogue, argues that “in spite of his efforts to write pure classical Hebrew and to mark his story with ‘Patriarchal colouring’, [sic] the author of the Prose Tale could not avoid certain phrases which are unmistakably characteristic of post-exilic Hebrew, thus betraying his actual late date.”[30]

Ian Young reassesses[31] this study by the criterion Hurvitz developed. In order for there to be identifiable LBH the terms must meet the following: linguistic distribution, linguistic contrast, extra-biblical attestations, and accumulation of the evidence.[32] Young’s own assessment of Hurvitz’s work was both negative and reaffirming. Young dismisses three of Hurvitz’s submissions and supplements three additional phrases as LBH. The total numbered tallied by Young is seven between these two scholars. Young questions whether or not this is sufficient accumulation to establish a LBH imprint on the prose sections of Job to warrant a late date for them and for the book as a whole.[33] To put the matter into perspective, Young places literature known for its LBH with a 500 word sample in a comparative chart to find the astonishing finding that does not line up with post-exilic LBH core books; instead, it is situated low and close to Genesis. Young then concludes, “according to Hurvitz’s own criterion of accumulation, the Prose Tale of Job is not in LBH.”[34]

This is not to say that this is evidence for an early date of the prose sections of Job. Instead, Young argues that LBH and EBH are overlapping styles of Hebrew, rather than EBH being a chronological precursor to LBH. “EBH and LBH would thus turn out to be two styles of post-exilic Hebrew.”[35] Whether Young is correct regarding overlapping styles of Hebrew, it has not been established. It would not seem outside the realm of possibility; yet, in terms of a written language a developmental Hebrew from earlier to later seems legitimate along with the fact that oral developments tend to have their history, nuances, and trajectories.[36] At this point, though Young’s suggestion is inviting, it may be best to accept that EBH and LBH are post-exilic writings styles as tentative until more information arises. As Derek Kidner observes in the face of the “inconclusiveness” of the linguistic evidence, “Happily, this open question is academic, in every sense of the word. This book is no prisoner of time.”[37]

Little Did They Know: Elements of the Prologue and Epilogue

The prose sections place a large emphasis upon the heavenly court which anchors the theology and drama of the poetic discourses.[38] This emphasis is seen in several aspects which arch over the thematic issues addressed in the poetic discourses of Job. This emphasis is more pertinent to the reader than it is to hero Job.

First, there is the setting of the heavenly court (1:6; 2:1). The heavenly court introduced in the prologue recalls to the reader that “there are powers in the universe other than God and that they exercise great influence on the course of events.”[39] The heavenly court motif in Job echoes Canaanite mythology of a council of the gods,[40] or, as Alter describes it, a “celestrial entourage” as in Psa 82:1 (1b “in the midst of the gods he holds judgment”). In the prologue, the heavenly court scene appears twice where a defense of Job’s honest fidelity to God is made to rebut “the Adversary” (“the Satan”); however, in the epilogue, it is the Lord who descends upon the early court apart from the entourage and heavenly Adversary and restore’s Job’s faith and standing.

Second, this leads to a discussion of the main characters of the prose sections which are uniquely bound to each other in Job; namely, the Lord (יְהוָ֑ה), Job, and the Satan (הַשָּׂטָ֖ן). The interaction between God and the Satan place a wager upon Job’s life that he is fully unaware of; in fact, Job is never told in epilogue. The heavenly court is the stage where the celestial adversary emerges, “the Satan” (1:6-9, 12; 2:1-4, 6-7). While it is thought by some that the articular “Satan” suggests a proper name,[41] Alter argues that the use of the definite article (הַשָּׂטָ֖ן) “indicates a function, not a proper name.”[42] Hartley also agrees, this use “functions as a title rather than as a personal name.”[43] This adversary (“the Satan”), then, functions as a celestial prosecutor against Job in response to the Lord (יהוה) proposal that Job is a unique human specimen of spiritual fidelity. This brings two particular elements into play which arch over the discourse cycles.

The drama is set, on the one hand, when Job becomes the subject of a “wager” that has his genuine devotion to the Lord questioned.[44] On the other hand, in the face of Job’s ignorance of the impending hard knocks which will challenge his faith, the Lord’s “justice is on the line and everything depends on the final verdict. God must act to vindicate not only Job but himself.”[45] This places the burden of the outcome upon God rather than Job. The Satan accuses, in essence, that positive rewards yield religious/pious service; hence, is not the person of God but instead a combination of divine bribery and human egocentric desire for these rewards which had motivated Job’s fidelity. It appears that the ideology of retribution builds upon these metrics.

In the epilogue, this theme is returned to after the series of discourses and a showing of Job’s penitence but the adversary is nowhere to be seen; instead, the Lord reinforces the righteousness and faithfulness of Job. It is the friends who have been arguing for the form of retribution the Satan argues for in the prologue, and now that they have been approaching it from the opposite angle. Job is indeed suffering. So, is Job suffering for no reason? The friends argue it is a response (Job 3:23) to Job’s hidden wickedness, so in order to return the hedge of rewards the patriarch must repent (5:17-27). But appeasing God in a religious transaction (repentance, sacrifice, etc.), or by piety, is not a foolproof plan to escape the hardships of life. Job, then, is not convicted to repent but holds to his integrity (Job 27:4-6). In the epilogue, though Job is not truly the victor of the debates, the friends have not changed their words and maintain Satan’s argument. Hence, in the friends the Satan’s accusation is proven inadequate and a great offense to the relationship God actually maintains with humanity.

Third, there is a level of “dramatic irony” which is shaped in the prologue and hangs through the discourses and ultimately returns in the epilogue. One the one hand, Job is completely unaware of what is about to happen to him; whereas the reader is fully knowledgeable of the perils which have been agreed to which are now coming upon Job. Yet, despite this lack of information, Job senses that there is a divine court to plead his case when his faith comes under scrutiny and serious questions about God and justice. This, however, is his longing and a position he is ultimately led to since the court of his contemporaries is already quite hostile and prejudicial towards him due to their conventional wisdom based upon their retributive theology.

On the other hand, the narrator establishes the irony of the story and its theological questions by granting permission to the intended audience of Job.[46] Job and the reader have completely different motivations as the discourses develop. Job’s questions emerge as seeking a better answer to his questions. The reader knows these are the wrong questions. For Job, the man, it is God who has hand picked Job (though this is true) to tear him down (this is not true). In fact, it is the Satan who has touched Job (though by God’s permission), to prove that humanity symbolized in Job will reject God faced with this unjust treatment (which Job refuses to do because of his own sense of integrity). It is Job who finds and exposes the inconsistencies of the conventional wisdom of retribution. In the midst of Job’s sense of indignity for his suffering as a senseless act of God, the reader knows the conversation is all wrong because God champions for Job.Job’s ignorance is the reader’s understanding of reality are carried from the prologue, hang during the poetic discussions, and returns in the epilogue.

It is Job’s ignorance which informs the reader’s understanding of reality. The world is not a tidy place, the good sometimes suffer despite being good, and the bad sometimes enjoy more good they do not “deserve.” The reader is carried along with this tension in mind from the prologue, as it hangs during the poetic discourse cycles, and returns in the epilogue only to be met with the knowledge that humanity does not have the depth of wisdom, the power of control, nor the skill to balance the wild and domesticated world. The epilogue benefits from Job’s confessions of his “smallness” in comparison to what he was critiquing (40:3-5) and that he spoke out of considerable ignorance (42:1-6). This is staggering since the reader supposes that in order to resolve the tension of the book, God would explain to Job why he is suffering. But that is not how the book ends. The resolution is found in the fact that instead of judgment upon Job and his friends for what they “deserve,” God forgives them all. This shows that God relates to humanity in terms of grace, but grace in a real world with hardships that are not always connected to, nor demonstrative of, their relationship with God.

Fourth, there is some foreshadowing in the prologue of the final verdict for Job reflected in the epilogue.[47] In Job 1:22 and 2:10 the narrator demonstrates the fortitude of Job’s faithfulness to God in the face of tragedy. After the first challenge to Job’s genuine devotion to God, the narrator observes, “In all this Job did not sin or charge God with wrong” (1:22); furthermore, after the second challenge, the narrator writes again, “In all this Job did not sin with his lips” (2:10). These foreshadows are realized when the Lord himself validates Job’s words, “or you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has” (42:7). It is not that Job is sinless, but that Job committed —albeit off and on — that God was not mechanical in his wrath as his friends had been arguing in their dialogues. This is the underlying argument of the three friends, asserting an unbalanced doctrine of retribution, a “doctrine of rewards and punishments that was widespread in the wisdom literature of antiquity.”[48] In the shorthand, their view amounted to two principles: virtue is rewarded and sin is punished. The prologue reveals heaven’s sabotage of this doctrine with, as Clines observes, “a most shocking infringement.”[49]

The poetic discourses did not center on the premise that “If you sin, then you will suffer,” instead the three friends “reversed the cause and effect to reach the belief that: If you suffer, then you have sinned.”[50] This theological failure on the part of the three friends demonstrates that although they claimed to “understand the meaning of life in terms of this doctrine of retribution,”[51] they lacked wisdom. In fact, they share the same problem as Job in that they are woefully ignorant of reality and are attempting to explain it with impoverished wisdom. This speaks to why Job laments his friends, “miserable comforters are you all” (Job 16:2), and why, in the epilogue, the Lord rebukes them and asks Job to intercede on their behalf (Job 42:8-9). Although the doctrine of retribution does not feature in the prose section, nor are there the explicit answer to why humans suffer, the events in the prologue create a series of events which allow the book to “disabuse one common belief, the so-called doctrine of retribution.”[52] In the end, the verdict on Job’s disparaged piety is seen in his response to the Lord in 42:5-6, “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes.” Job’s piety is maintained and his wisdom is asserted for now he sees the Lord who provides at the cosmic level down to the human earthly level and acknowledges his relationship is based upon the charitable and gracious hand of God.

Concluding Thoughts

It has been said that Job is “the greatest monument of wisdom literature in the Old Testament.”[53] Yet, for such an epithet Job requires a demanding reservoir of critical skills to grapple with its structured tensions. The prose sections of Job require tremendous skill and patience to evaluate their contribution. There is a “logical coherence” between the prologue, the poetic discourses, and the epilogue. The prose sections play an integral part in understanding the canonical form of the book of Job. The epic genre and vocabulary places the wisdom and theodicy debate in a historical context like that of the Hebrew patriarchs. Finally, they place a large emphasis upon the heavenly court which anchors the theology and drama of the poetic discourses.

Endnotes

  1. The prologue is often considered the “oldest” element of Job, originally existing as a “simple folk tale” then forming the basis of the current story. See Raymond B. Dillard and Tremper Longman, III, An Introduction to the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1994), 202.
  2. Robert S. Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You: Images of Creation and Evil in the Book of Job, (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2002), 19.
  3. Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 19.
  4. This does not disregard the fact that there are a variety of serious critical questions which must be considered; however, since even the consensus view as to the pre-literary origin of the prose-discourse-prose format of Job is theoretical and limited, it seems best to treat Job in its canonical form.
  5. Dillard and Longman, An Introduction to the Old Testament, 202.
  6. Bernhard W. Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, 4th ed. (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1986), 590.
  7. Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, 590. Irving F. Wood disagrees. Arguing from a source-critical point of view, the poetic discourses “displace the heart of the story” of Job found in the prologue and the epilogue. See his “Folk-Tales in Old Testament Narrative,” JBL 28.1 (1909): 39-40.
  8. Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, 590.
  9. Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York, NY: Basic Books, 1981), 46.
  10. Due to space and the complexity of the issues, the prose elements which attend to the introduction of Elihu (Job 32:1-5) and his discourses will not be discussed in this essay. Milo L. Chapman, “Job,” in vol. 3 of Beacon Bible Commentary (Kansas City, MO: Beacon Hill Press of Kansas City, 1967), 101. Chapman sees this section as “part of the prose introduction of Elihu’s speeches.” See also, Pfeiffer, Introduction to the Old Testament, 665, and John E. Hartley, The Book of Job (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1988), 429.
  11. Unless otherwise stated all Scripture citations are from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2001).
  12. James E. Patrick, “The Fourfold Structure of Job: Variations on a Theme,” VT 55.2 (2005): 186. Patrick demonstrates the use of “regular speech ascriptions” throughout Job (4:1, 6:1, 8:1, 9:1, 11:1, 12:1, 15:1, 16:1, 18:1, 19:1, 20:1, 21:1, 22:1, 23:1, 25:1, etc).
  13. Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative, 74.
  14. These themes are principally found in the lengthy arguments made by The Satan against Job (1:9-11, 2:4-5).
  15. There are some variations on the epilogue but in general this is how many outline the epilogue.
  16. Hartley, The Book of Job, 539. “Whereas Yahweh has accused Job of darkening knowledge (38:2), his charge against the friends is much stronger. Job has been genuinely groping for the truth, but the friends have spoken falsely in their attempt to defend God.”
  17. Robert H. Pfeiffer, Introduction to the Old Testament (New York, NY: Harper & Brothers, 1941; repr., New York, NY: Harper & Brothers, 1948), 660.
  18. William S. LaSor, David A. Hubbard, and Frederic W. Bush, Old Testament Survey: The Message, Form, and Background of the Old Testament, 2d ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1996), 474.
  19. Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, 590-91.
  20. John H. Walton, Ancient Israelite Literature in its Cultural Context: A Survey of Parallels Between Biblical and Ancient Near Eastern Texts (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1989), 46.
  21. Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, 593; Dillard and Longman, An Introduction to the Old Testament, 200.
  22. Avi Hurvitz, “Date of the Prose-Tale of Job Linguistically Reconsidered,” HTR 67.1 (Jan. 1974): 31-32.
  23. Craig C. Broyles, “Interpreting the Old Testament,” in Interpreting the Old Testament: A Guide for Exegesis, ed. Craig C. Broyles (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2001), 28.
  24. Fyall argues that “we cannot force the book into a straightjacket. The nature of the book is such that into one form can cover the variety of situations, emotions, questions, protests and characters that it introduces” (Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 23). Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, 573; Walton places Job along side many ANE parallel wisdom texts in Ancient Israelite Literature in its Cultural Context, 169-87.
  25. See LaSor, Hubbard, and Bush, Old Testament Survey, 472. “Our prologue and epilogue contain a considerable amount of epic substratum and that our prose version would seem to be directly derived from an ancient epic of Job.” See Nahum M. Sarna, “Epic Substratum in the Prose of Job,” JBL 76.1 (March 1957): 15. Leland Ryken, however, does not list these prologues as examples of the epic in How to Read the Bible as Literature (Grand Rapids, MI: Academic Books, 1984), 78-81.
  26. Frederick F. The Wisdom Literature of the Bible: The Book of Job,” The Bible Student 23.2 (April 1952): 58.
  27. Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, 592.
  28. Tremper and Longman, An Introduction to the Old Testament, 200-01. Still, Job as a historical figure is known to Ezekiel and his reputation is comparable to that of Daniel (Ezek 14:14, 20).
  29. Sarna, “Epic Substratum in the Prose of Job,” 15-24. Many other features and parallels of epic literature are discussed in Walton, Ancient Israelite Literature in its Cultural Context, 58-63.
  30. Hurvitz, “Date of the Prose-Tale of Job Linguistically Reconsidered,” 18.
  31. Ian Is the Prose Tale of Job in Late Biblical Hebrew,” VT 59.4 (2009): 606-29.
  32. Young, “Is the Prose Tale of Job in Late Biblical Hebrew,” 608.
  33. Young, “Is the Prose Tale of Job in Late Biblical Hebrew,” 621-26.
  34. Young, “Is the Prose Tale of Job in Late Biblical Hebrew,” 626.
  35. Young, “Is the Prose Tale of Job in Late Biblical Hebrew,” 626.
  36. A. Jeffery, “Hebrew Language,” IBD 2:555-56.
  37. Derek Kidner, The Wisdom of Proverbs, Job and Ecclesiastes: An Introduction to Wisdom Literature (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1985), 76. Indeed, Tremper Longman, III, argues that it best to remain “agnostic about the date of composition” because “fortunately the answer to this question does not bear on its interpretation,” “Poetic Books,” in The IVP Introduction to the Bible, ed. Philip S. Johnston (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2006), 98.
  38. The following discussion follows the lead of Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 34-38.
  39. Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 34.
  40. Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 34.
  41. Wayne Jackson, The Book of Job: Analyzed and Applied (Abilene, TX: Quality Publications, 1983), 20. He connects the goings of “the Satan” with 1 Pet 5:8 and argues for the Devil; in fact, Jackson opposes the view taken here that “the Satan” is a celestial member of the heavenly court describing it as “baseless.” Fyall likewise takes “the Satan” as the personal Devil (Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 36). Outside of Job, but within the Hebrew canon, the articular “the Satan” only appears in Zechariah (3:1-2). Both contexts are legal in setting which gives weight for a legal/courtroom Adversary – the prosecutor.
  42. Robert Alter, The Wisdom Books: Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes — A Translation with Commentary (New York, NY: Norton & Co., 2010), 12.
  43. Hartley, The Book of Job, 71.
  44. Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 35.
  45. Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 35.
  46. Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 37-38.
  47. Fyall, Now My Eyes Have Seen You, 38.
  48. Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, 595.
  49. David J. A. Clines, “A Brief Explanation of Job 1-3,” in Sitting with Job: Selected Studies on the Book of Job, ed. Roy B. Zuck (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 1992), 250.
  50. Dillard and Longman, An Introduction to the Old Testament, 209.
  51. Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, 595.
  52. Dillard and Longman, An Introduction to the Old Testament, 209.
  53. Anderson, Understanding the Old Testament, 588.