A Tour of the New Testament: Where did the Bible come from? Part IV

            Aww yisss. Finally, the New Testament. I know... so far  I haven't written very much on that portion of the Bible which directly has to do with Jesus Christ. But in my defense, it takes awhile to get through the Hebrew Scriptures – the Old Testament is nearly four times as long as the New. Furthermore, its breadth of history and literary development spans over a thousand years. The New Testament (NT), on the other hand, was composed in probably less than a century. Compared to the Hebrew Scriptures, the Christian Scriptures look like a weekly newspaper, and, all things considered, the NT was literature in a hurry. But where did it come from?

            We can pretty much assume that Jesus' ministry, death, and resurrection probably took place sometime around the year 30 CE. But writings about Jesus did not come about immediately. After the resurrection, the followers of Christ began to spread the Good News of Christ orally, and the movement grew rapidly. I'm rather surprised it grew at all, considering its leader had just died a horrific execution, and it wasn't long before his followers were likewise persecuted. But as the 2^nd century Church father, Tertullian, says "The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church." How this religious movement not only survived but flourished in its first hundred years is a real testament to its credibility (pun absolutely intended).

            One of the persecutors of the early Church was a Pharisee named Saul of Tarsus, who was later more commonly known as Paul. As the story goes, he was on his way to Damascus to bring back to Jerusalem in chains any followers of the "the Way." The term Christian, by the way, had not been coined yet, and so they were simply called followers of the Way. Seeing a bright light, Saul fell to the ground. Then a voice spoke to him saying, "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" Theologically, this is incredibly significant, for the risen Christ had identified himself to Saul with his followers and disciples whom Saul was persecuting. This close association of Christ with his followers (i.e. the Body of Christ, the Church) is central to St. Paul's writings. You can read about his conversion in several passages of the NT: Acts 9:1-19; Galatians1:12-19; 1 Timothy 1:12-14.

Parmigianino, The Conversion of St. Paul (1527-1528), Oil on Canvas

FYI, nowhere in the NT does it say Paul was riding a horse... Mr. Parmigianino.

            Paul became one of the most influential apostles of the early Church, spreading the Gospel (i.e. Good News) throughout the Mediterranean. He kept correspondence with the Christian communities which he either founded or had visited. Thus we have the letters of Paul to the Corinthians, or Thessalonians, or Galatians etc. These funny names simply refer to the church communities to whom he was writing in Corinth, Thessalonica, Galatia, and so on. I bring up Paul before mentioning the four Gospels because his letters (a.k.a. epistles) to these churches are probably the earliest of the NT Scriptures. His first letter to the Thessalonians was likely the earliest of his epistles that we have in Scripture, making it possibly the oldest of any of the NT writings.

            But things get kind of dicey from here. Scholars are pretty certain that Paul wrote the letters to the Galatians, Corinthians, Philippians, Philemon, Romans, and the first letter to the Thessalonians, but they are not so sure about 2 Thessalonians, Colossians, Ephesians, or the letters to Timothy and Titus. The letters that are undisputedly from Paul all had to have been composed before his death in the mid 60s CE. So dang, check that out... hardly 30 years after Jesus' death and resurrection and at least seven letters of the NT have already been composed!

            The dating of the disputed letters varies. Some fair arguments can be made that  2 Thessalonians and maybe even Colossians might very well have been written by Paul during his career. In any case, all of these disputed letters were most likely composed before the year 100 CE, the latest probably being the Pastoral Letters, 1 & 2 Timothy and Titus. If the disputed letters were not written by Paul himself, they were probably composed by his disciples or those who were in line with Pauline thought. Ephesians, for example, seems to have been written by one who was very good at summarizing and getting to the heart of Paul's theology.

            Should this bother us that Paul didn't write some of the letters we attribute to him? Not really. Here's the thing about writings in the ancient world. For one, people back then didn't have the kind of hang-ups we do today about academic honesty. Nowadays we have this neurotic, individualistic obsession with "intellectual property." It's abhorrent not to cite your sources, to plagiarize or forge, to attribute work to someone who didn't do it. (FYI, my last name is spelled B-r-e-m-a-r if you'd like to cite this post in your next term paper.)[1] But for the ancients, writing in someone else's name was not frowned upon like it is today. Back then, wisdom was a communal matter; it belonged to everyone, not to individuals. Secondly, wisdom derived from the past, not so much the present or future. Today our knowledge is oriented toward future prospects. We seek discoveries in technology and the sciences that will advance us even further into the future. Our ancestors of antiquity, however, believed that in order to understand the present and discern the future one needed to understand the past. Not surprisingly, elders were more respected back then than they are today.

            Given this kind of attitude toward wisdom and the past, putting a wise leader's name on your work doesn't seem to be that big of a deal. I only bring this up because there was a lot of pseudonymous literature (writings in another person's name) in the ancient world, and there are examples of it in both the Old and New Testaments, as well as many books which never made it into the Bible. Furthermore, this brings me to the four Gospels. Yay, everyone's favorite!

Not quite the Good News I'm talking about. Photo courtesy of www.patheos.com

            The first Gospel of the NT to have been written was the Gospel according to Mark. It was probably composed sometime around the devastating destruction of the Temple by the Romans in the year 70 CE – perhaps between 68-73 according to renowned NT scholar, Raymond Brown.[2] It was likely written for a persecuted community of Christians living in Rome. Was it written by the John Mark of Acts who was a follower of Peter and Paul? I don't know; pseudonymous writing was common back then. Does it really matter? Nah, I don't think so.

            The Gospel according to Matthew was likely written next, probably sometime in the 80s. It borrows heavily from Mark as well as from some lost or undiscovered source scholars call Q. This Gospel was perhaps written in or around Antioch to a community of very Jewish Christians. Was the tax-collector, Matthew, the actual author? I doubt it, but that isn't to say some of the details contained within it could not have derived from the apostle himself.

            Next we have the Gospel according to Luke. This is the longest of the four Gospels and the most exquisite in style. It also was probably written in the 80s, and I would venture to say that it was composed after Matthew. It too borrows from Mark and from that Q source that Matthew used. But some of our favorite Gospel stories, like the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan, are only found in Luke. Since these three Gospels are so closely related due to Luke and Matthew's dependence on Mark, they are known as the synoptic Gospels - synoptic (another fancy-schmancy word you can use to impress your friends) meaning that they can be looked at together. Was it written by Luke, the physician and follower of Paul? Eh. Who can say for certain? What is clear is that the author was a well-educated Greek and an absolutely fabulous writer! Luke, by the way, also wrote the Acts of the Apostles as a sequel to his Gospel – the only sequel found in the NT.

            And then there's John. Many Christians who have read (or even haven't read) the four Gospels will tell you that John is their favorite. It was even the favorite of St. Francis of Assisi. Indeed, it's a beautiful Gospel, so don't get me wrong, but I'm more of a fan of the three synoptics. The Gospel according to John differs greatly in style and narrative than the others, but the essentials are all there: Jesus' ministry, death, and resurrection. The date of its composition could be as early as the 80s with some parts edited as late as 110. Was it written by John the son of Zebedee? Of all of the names attributed to the Gospels, I have the hardest time believing that John, the disciple of Jesus, actually wrote this one. The author seems to have been someone from a particular community of Christians, referred to as the "Johannine community," which may have been influenced very early on from one of Jesus' disciples. The three letters of John were written after the Gospel, and also derive from this Johannine Christian community. The book of Revelation appears to reflect some Johannine influence, though was not composed by the same authors of the Gospel or Johannine letters. Revelation (not Revelations with and 's', one professor was very adamant to point out) was written toward the end of the first century, probably around 92-96 CE.[3] It's a crazy-fascinating book, and many people have questions about it, so I hope to devote a post to Revelation sometime in the future.

            This leaves us with the Letter to the Hebrews and the Catholic Letters. Hebrews is a curious text, and in fact is more of a homily than a letter. Unlike the other NT epistles, the author of Hebrews does not refer at all to himself by name. Both the author and the audience are difficult to discern. Given its references to Jewish religious practices and the Hebrew Scriptures, it would seem the audience was a very Jewish rather than Gentile Christian community. Debates abound as to when it was written, but it had to be earlier than 95 CE, because St. Clement quotes it in a letter he wrote to Corinth around that year. Brown suggests as early as the 60s but more likely in the 80s.[4]

            The Catholic Letters get lumped under that title, not because they are "Catholic" – as in Catholic and not Protestant or Orthodox – but catholic as in general or universal. They were perceived by the early Church to have been for a more general audience, rather than particular communities. The three letters of John also fall under the Catholic Letters, but I mentioned them once already, and I won't get into them again. This leaves us with 1 & 2 Peter, James, and Jude. Were the authors of these letters the Peter, James, and Jude of the Gospels? Again, I doubt it, but arguments can be made that 1 Peter, James, and Jude were written relatively early and may have very close ties with the apostles. A theory circulates that 1 Peter may have been dictated by the apostle to a scribe. Then again, arguments can also be made that they were composed toward the end of the first century (70 - 100) as well. So we can't be sure either way. 2 Peter is surely the latest, for it references 1 Peter, Jude, and Pauline literature. Brown suggests a date as late as 130 CE ("give or take a decade").[5] The Catholic Letters tend to be easily forgotten, as the four Gospels and the writings of Paul dominate our New Testament imaginations. Nevertheless, they are part of our Scriptures and are sacred. Plus, they're short letters anyway, so they're worth our time to give 'em a gander.

            So there you have it. A whirlwind tour of the New Testament. Whew! I think I mentioned each of the 27 books of the NT at least once. Hopefully this gives you a taste of what all is contained in the NT, who wrote it, and when it was written. Admittedly, aside from the undisputed letters of Paul, the precise who and when of the Christian Scriptures is a little clouded, since many texts were written under pseudonyms. We can at least say, though, that all of the writings were composed within about a hundred years of Jesus' death and resurrection. Next time I hope to clarify a little bit about why these books made it into our canon of Scripture, and why other Christian (or some not-so-Christian) writings didn't get in.

            Since we are just over our first week in Lent, and this is usually the time that Catholics are still kind of scrambling to figure out what they're going to do for for the season, here is a suggestion. Read an entire Gospel, anyone you'd like, from beginning to end. It may seem like a lot, but this isn't just a suggestion for the week. You have all of Lent, though I would recommend trying to read it in no more than 3 or 4 sittings. It's better to get a whole story in context than just snippets here and there. Read it like you would any other book. Get invested in the characters, the plot, the twists. See what surprises you, or puzzles you, or frustrates you. What brings you joy and comfort? What strengthens your faith? What challenges you? Either way, just have fun with it. I haven't written much on the Gospels, but it's good to read them with a blind eye at least once anyway. Still, I like to recommend Bibles with good footnotes, like the New American Bible, to help clarify confusing texts.

            As always, you can send me comments or questions via Facebook, Twitter, e-mail, or the comment box below. I think I worked out some of the kinks of the comment box, so if you've had difficulty with it in the past, it should work now. And don't forget to take the survey. Until next time...

Peace and all good!

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[1] Speaking of citing sources, this post would not have been possible without these texts:

Brown Raymond E. An Introduction to the New Testament. New York: Doubleday, 1997.

Johnson, Luke Timothy. The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation. Revised ed. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1999.

And the prefaces to the books of the NT found in 

The Saint Joseph Edition of the New American Bible. New York: Catholic Book Publishing Co., 1992. 

[2] Brown, 127.

[3] Ibid., 774.

[4] Ibid, 684.

[5] Ibid., 762.

Those Other Books: Where did the Bible come from? Part III

            First of all, I hope you are enjoying the start of this merciful season of Lent. And just as a reminder, don't forget to take the blog survey by clicking here if you haven't already. Your input is greatly appreciated.

            One of the more common questions I get asked about the Bible is Why do Catholic and Protestant Bibles differ? or Why do Catholic Bibles have more books than Protestant Bibles? The answer – and the purpose of last week's post on the Greek period of Jewish history – lies with something called the Septuagint [sep-TOO-ah-jint]. I know, it sounds all sorts of crazy fancy... and you're right. It is! So get ready to impress your friends at cocktail parties with phrases like, "Yes, well personally I don't think that will have as much impact on the Lakers' game as the Septuagint did on biblical literature." Meanwhile, your friends will cock their heads to one side and wonder why you're bringing up the Septuagint in a conversation about the NBA.

            So what is the Septuagint anyway? Simply put, it is the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures. If you recall from last week's post, Jews were scattered all over the Mediterranean, and, as it happens when populations move and assimilate, these Jewish communities ceased speaking their native tongue and adopted the common language of the day, Greek. Thus there became a need for translations of the Hebrew Scriptures into a language that was more accessible for study and worship. The name "Septuagint" comes from the Latin septuaginta meaning "seventy." The seventy refers to an ancient legend that there were 70 or 72 different Jewish scribes charged with the task of translating the Torah.[1] Supposedly, they were all separated from one another in the process, and despite being sequestered as they worked, they all miraculously turned up with the exact same translation of the Torah! Personally I don't buy that story, but  regardless, there were definitely Greek translations of the Hebrew Scriptures at least as early as the 2^nd century BCE – probably even earlier – and if you recall, that century was wrought with turmoil thanks to that son of a beast, Antiochus IV.

            Much of the translating is thought to have occurred in or around Alexandria, Egypt, where a rather large population of Diaspora Jews lived. (See more in last week's post about the Diaspora). I'd imagine that some copies of these translations would have been stored in the famous Library of Alexandria back then. Unfortunately, this library suffered a series of fires and was destroyed in ancient times. If you're a nerd like me, I'm sure you'd agree that the single greatest tragedy in human history – other than any which involved the loss of human life, of course – is the destruction of the Alexandrian Library. Oy! To think of what information we might know today, had it not been for that terrible decimation of books and scrolls! After reading this post, do me a favor and hug a book.

            Thankfully, plenty of Greek copies of Jewish texts were composed and circulated in the 2^nd and 1^st centuries BCE and well into the 1^st century CE (Common Era, or A.D.). Not surprisingly, later editions of the Septuagint differed from the earlier translations – kind of like today when a new edition of a college textbook comes out. The new algebra book might have only changed slightly, or maybe a new chapter or two was added, but you still have to pay through the nose for that brand new copy, dagnabit! Likewise, these later editions and manuscripts varied in content. Some manuscripts were strictly the books of the Torah. Some included the Prophets and the Writings as well as those books of the Bible which are not in the today's Jewish and Protestant canons (i.e. the Apocrypha, a.k.a. deuterocanonical books). And here is where things get kind of complicated.

            Since the list of books varied in these Greek translations, it is highly unlikely that there was ever a singular canon of scriptures – a definitive collection of sacred books – to come out of Alexandria.[2] This is probably because there wasn't such a thing as a "closed canon of Scripture," – that is, a list of authoritative books to which no more could be added or removed – until much later in history. There had not yet been a definitive agreement that these books were authoritative and those books were not.

            Some Septuagint manuscripts included books like Tobit, Judith, 1 & 2 Maccabees, The Book of Sirach (a.k.a. The Wisdom of Ben Sira), The Wisdom of Solomon, Baruch, and longer versions of Daniel and Esther. These books are the seven books (plus the additions to Daniel and Esther) which the Catholic Church refers to as "detuerocanonical" (i.e. second or later canon). Most Protestants will refer to these as "Apocrypha" which simply means "hidden." Interestingly enough, there were other apocryphal books than just these seven which had also been included in the Septuagint. Some Eastern Orthodox churches consider these books authoritative as well and include them in their canons of scripture: for example, The Prayer of Manasseh, Psalm 151, 1 Esdras, and 3 Maccabees.

            So why did these books eventually get the boot? Why don't they appear in the Jewish canon of Scripture? A few reasons. When it came to which books were authoritative in the minds of the Jewish rabbis of the 1^st & 2^nd century CE, two rules of thumb held sway: Older is better than newer, and Hebrew is better than Greek. If the book had some pedigree and withstood the test of time, like the Torah or the prophets, then it ought to be canonized as Scripture. The Johnny-come-latelies, like those books mentioned above, just hadn't been around as long as the others. Not only that, but they were written in Greek! The language of the Gentiles! Now granted, some were probably originally written in Hebrew or Aramaic, and some Hebrew and Aramaic copies of these texts have since been discovered. But they were probably more widely known in their Greek form. The Septuagint as a whole was held suspect by some Jewish leaders because, as the phrase goes, every translation is an interpretation. Did the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures corrupt the original meaning of the Hebrew? Such was their concern.

            However, what really got the rabbis' goat about these books and the Septuagint as a whole was that the new Christian movement – which, for all intents and purposes, must have seemed like one giant heresy to them – used the Greek Septuagint to justify its claims about Christ. All of the New Testament was written in Greek after all. This Greek translation of their sacred texts, which had been translated for Jews by Jews, was now tainted by these Christians (of both Jewish and Gentile origin) who referenced it.

            As for those questionable books found within the Septuagint, these were thoroughly Jewish, written by Jews and most of which (if not all) before the time of Christ. However, since they were written much later than most of the other Jewish scriptures, they reflected later theological developments. Some of these concepts resonated very much with the Christian movement – things like "innovative ideas about the afterlife (Wisdom of Solomon)... [or] the concept of heavenly reward for martyrdom (2 Maccabees)."[3] As a result, these books fell out of favor among the Jewish rabbis in the 1^st and 2^nd centuries CE, and when the Jewish leaders did have a definitive canon of scripture, these books were not included among them. And that, my friends, is how these books became the red-headed step-children of Scripture. (For the record, I have absolutely nothing against step-children or people of red hair.)

            But these books have not always had an easy go among Christians either. Some of the leaders of the early Church (2^nd – 5^th centuries) felt that the Septuagint and even the later books contained within it were legit – guys like Justin Martyr, Clement of Alexandria, Eusebius, and Augustine. St. Jerome (346-420 CE), however, was like that one out of five dentists who does not endorse Trident sugar-free gum. Jerome translated the Scriptures into Latin in what is known as the "Vulgate." He wasn't crazy about some of the apocryphal/deuterocanonical books. Much to the surprise of his contemporaries, he preferred translating and revising from the Hebrew texts as much as he could, rather than from the Greek Septuagint. He begrudgingly translated Tobit and Judith from Aramaic sources, but he did not translate or even revise Baruch, 1 & 2 Maccabees, Sirach, or Wisdom of Solomon, as they were not in Hebrew canons. Copies of those books circulated in older Latin versions of the Bible that existed before Jerome's translation, so they found their way into the Vulgate in their old Latin form untouched by Jerome.

St. Jerome Writing, Caravaggio, 1605-1606

St. Jerome: Patron saint of biblical scholars and grumpy, old men

            So what happened to these books in the Protestant Bibles? Why did they get removed from their canon of Scripture? For one, these later books of Scripture had always had an iffy history, as evidenced by St. Jerome's indifference toward them. During the Protestant Reformation of the 1500s, greater emphasis was placed on Scripture – case in point, Martin Luther's famous adage, sola scriptura (Scripture alone!). And much like the ancient rabbis, the reformers felt that, when it came to the Old Testament, older was better than newer, and Hebrew was better than Greek... and definitely better than Latin. Besides, the Jewish canon of Scripture had long since omitted these later books, so, in their opinion, why differ from the original receivers of the Scriptural tradition? Thus, whenever Protestant editions of the Bible were printed, the apocryphal books were only added as an appendix, if added at all. They weren't viewed as bad, just not canonical or authoritative.

            The Eastern Orthodox Church maintained the apocryphal books including 1 Esdras, the Prayer of Manasseh, and 3 Maccabees, which are not in the Catholic canon. Some, like the Russian Orthodox Church or the Ethiopian Church, consider even more books to be canonical. Interestingly – and this was news to me before researching for this post – the Catholic Church accepted the books of 1 & 2 Esdras and the Prayer of Manasseh as sacred up until the Council of Trent (1546)! It was the Council of Trent, which followed on the heels of the Protestant Reformation, that more or less closed the Catholic canon of Scripture. No more books would be added, and no other books would be removed. Those seven deuterocanonical books plus the Greek additions to Daniel and Esther were there to stay.

            So in the grand scheme of things, should these books drive such a wedge between Protestants and Catholics today? Should Catholic and Orthodox Christians be criticized for including them, or should Protestants be criticized for omitting them? Personally, I don't think so either way. The Catholic Church believes the deuterocanonical books to be inspired and uses them in liturgy. I find them rather interesting, especially Tobit – that book can be laugh-out-loud funny at times – and ultimately, I believe they have sacred value. Is reading them or not reading them essential for salvation? Nah, I don't believe so. I do believe, however, that as we nurture our relationship with God, we benefit well from reading/hearing the Word of the God in Scripture, especially the Gospels. If you believe that these later books were inspired by the Holy Spirit, great! If not, well, there are 66 other books of the Bible for you to enjoy and be nourished from.

            Since this post had so much to do with the Apocrypha/deuterocanonical books, my scriptural recommendations for this week come from some wisdom literature of the 2^nd century BCE, the Book of Sirach. An excellent passage on honoring your parents can be found in Sirach 3:1-16. Or for a great passage on mercy toward the poor, see 3:30-4:10. And lastly, I recommend the passage on true friendship in 6:5-17.

            As you read from this ancient Jewish sage, ask yourself: What do I find challenging in these passages? What do I really like about them? How have they made me rethink about my attitudes toward my parents, or those in need, or about what constitutes a true friend? What is God saying to me through these words? What Truth do I hear?

            If you don't own a Bible that includes Sirach, no worries. I always link the chapter and verses to www.Biblegateway.com, so you can click on those and read the passages on-line. Finally, as is routine for me to say, I encourage comments and questions via the comment box below, Facebook, Twitter, or e-mail. So until next time...

Peace and all good [4]

Also, don't forget about the survey.

           

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[1] Jennifer M. Dines, The Septuagint, (New York: T&T Clark LTD, 2004), 1.

[2] Ibid, 12.

[3] Stephen L. Harris and Robert L. Platzner, The Old Testament: An Introduction to the Hebrew Bible, (Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2003), 348.

[4] This post would not have been possible without these other sources.

Collins, John J. “Apocrypha.” The HarperCollins Encyclopedia of Catholicism. Edited by Richard P. McBrien. San Francisco: Harper, 1995.

Hartman, L. F., B. F. Peebles, and M. Stevenson. “Vulgate.” New Catholic Encyclopedia, 2nd ed. Edited by Berard L. Marthaler. 15 vols. New York: Gale, 2003.

Schiffman, Lawrence H. Texts and Traditions: A Source Reader for the Study of Second Temple and Rabbinic Judaism. Hoboken, NJ: KTAV Publishing House, 1998.  

Greek Week! The Bible and the Hellenistic Period

            My last two posts have been focused on the Three Cs of the Bible: composition, compilation, and canonization. This week, however, is going to deviate from that theme slightly. The other day, while enjoying a plate of huevos rancheros, I was skimming over a book on the Septuagint, because really... why not? Anyway, it occurred to me that I should offer a little bit of background on the Greek (a.k.a. Hellenistic) period of Jewish history first. This will set the stage for talking about the books of Esther and Daniel, apocalyptic literature and Apocrypha, the Roman period, and ultimately Fiddler on the Roof and Yentl.

            Last week's post talked a little bit about the return of the Jews back to their homeland after the exile. However, not all of the Jews returned to Judea. Some stayed in Babylon; some went to Egypt, others to Syria, some to Asia Minor (modern day Turkey), and so on throughout the Mediterranean. Jewish peoples had also been dispersed from their homeland as a result of the Assyrian deportation of Israel some 140 years before the Babylonian exile. This scattering of the Jewish people is known as the Diaspora. Despite cultural clashes with the pagans in whose lands they resided, these communities thrived and managed to preserve their own unique faith, law, and culture. For the most part, Jews of the Diaspora or in Judea lived relatively tranquil lives under Persian rule. But then Alexander the Great (356 – 323 BCE) came about and conquered the Persians... and just about everyone else as well. He loved Greek culture so much, he thought everyone would love it too. I mean, gosh, why wouldn't they? Have you ever tried a gyro? They're delicious!

            Well... some Jews thought this was okay and assimilated to the Hellenistic culture of the day – usually the wealthy ones who benefited from life under Greek rule. But others most definitely did not! After Alexander's death, his empire was cut up like a cake, and the pressure for assimilation continued. The Egyptian slice of that cake was ruled by the Ptolemies (I think the P is silent), and they also had control of Palestine – the Greek name of that territory formerly known as Israel and Judah. Even more confusing... what had been Judah was now called Judea and was considered a province in the region of Palestine. Why did Judea get the works? That's nobody's business but the Greeks. (Man, I wished that rhymed.) Anyway, there was a rather large slice of the empire that extended from Asia Minor all the way to modern day Afghanistan. This portion was ruled by the Seleucid dynasty, and they took over Palestine from the Ptolemies in 199 BCE.

Follow the link here to visit the map's original site

            During the first century and a half of Greek domination, I'm sure life could not have been too cozy for faithful Jews whether in Palestine or of the Diaspora. There were surely culture clashes between Jews who refused to assimilate on the one hand and the Gentiles (non-Jews) and Hellenized Jews on the other. But things didn't get really bad until Antiochus IV usurped the Seleucid throne in 178 BCE. By the way, he also called himself Antiochus Epiphanes, suggesting that he was god manifest and proving just what kind of an egomaniac he was. Here he is below. Yeesh.

Google Images

            This man was probably clinically insane, and he pretty much took a dump on Judaism around the year 167 BCE, effectively outlawing it and making Jewish observances of their law punishable by death! Everything from having your infant son circumcised to refusing to eat pork could have the most grisly consequences. Furthermore, he desecrated the Temple – the one that had been rebuilt during the post-exilic period of the Reconstruction – by confiscating its treasury, erecting in it a statue of Zeus, and slaughtering pigs on the altar... and you know how the Jews felt about pork. I cannot express enough how heinous all of these things were to the Jews – their holiest site defiled; people being martyred for living according to God's law. They were being crushed and defeated once again, and it must have felt like the end of the world!

            (For a ridiculously over-simplified summary of Jewish life under Antiochus IV, I invite you to click here to see the Rugrats version of his reign. It's a far less violent depiction of a horrific period in history, but oddly enough captures the idea of cultural tension and assimilation pretty well.)

Google Images

             Now enter Mattathias and his sons, particularly Judas Maccabeus. This family and their supporters, known as the Maccabees after Judas Maccabeus, led a Judean revolt against Antiochus and the Seleucid empire. Long story short, their revolt was surprisingly successful. They rededicated the Temple around the year 165 BCE – from which derives Hanukkah, the Jewish festival of lights – and not long after the death of Antiochus IV and the rebel leader, Judas Maccabeus, they were able to secure fairly independent rule under J.M.'s descendants. And so began the Hasmonean dynasty, a line of priest-kings that reigned from 160 – 63 BCE. Fabulous, right? Or was it? On paper this sounds pretty good. The Jews of Palestine were finally self-governing again. But apparently the Hasmoneans were rather corrupt rulers and were not well appreciated by some Jewish groups. It is important to keep this unpopular Hasmonean dynasty in mind for later posts, but to go on about them now would be to get ahead of myself.

            It was in this environment, a world of persecution by the Greeks, that the books of Daniel and Esther were written. Both were likely composed around the time of Antiochus IV. Both are meant to offers Jews consolation and courage to remain faithful to God and to their national identity under foreign oppression. The book of Esther is a novella set in Persia. In it, the Jewish people are saved from genocide thanks to the Jewish consort to the Persian king who pleads to him on her people's behalf. Interestingly enough, God does not intervene directly in the story, though the rescue of the Jews through the pious woman's actions is viewed as divine providence.

            The book of Daniel is a compilation of books. In the first of these (chapters 1-6), the title character is portrayed as an interpreter of dreams/messages (Daniel 2 and 4-5). He is also depicted as a model of Jewish religious observance in the midst of the Babylonian exile. As in Esther, this was to encourage readers during the Hellenistic period to maintain their Jewish identity in the face of cultural opposition from oppressors. In the second section of Daniel, he is more of an apocalyptic visionary (Daniel 7-12). Frankly some of the visions in Daniel sound as if he's trippin', but really they're meant to point to the dire situations the Jewish audience was facing under the reign of Antiochus IV and to give them hope of salvation.

            Apocalyptic literature seems very bizarre and frightening to us today, but it served an important purpose for its time and, believe it or not, was actually meant to be a consolation to the readers, not a horror movie. The belief behind it was that things in the world had had gotten so bad that God needed to intervene directly. God basically had to hit the reset button on the world – much like you would in a Mario Brothers game when you have no lives left and you're about to face King Koopa for the third time. The reset button God would press, however, wasn't so much an annihilation of  the world as it was an end of the world as they knew it and ultimately a renewal of the world. Apocalyptic literature usually ends with the establishment of God's reign, for it was believed that God Himself – not a pagan ruler, not the Hasmoneans – should be the sovereign ruler of Israel.

            As for the nightmarish creatures and scenarios of apocalyptic literature, these were usually meant to symbolize evil or unfavorable pagan kingdoms. In Daniel 7:7-8, the Seleucid dynasty is depicted as a terrible beast with horns. The little horn with eyes that speaks arrogantly represents Antiochus IV. Similarly, the he-goat in chapter 8 also symbolizes the Greek empire and Antiochus. But why such whacked-out imagery? One reason why this is typical of apocalyptic literature is because the crazy symbolism was meant to conceal the meaning of the text should the scroll find itself in the wrong hands. Furthermore, as my apocalyptic lit. professor would say, "Extreme times call for extreme literature.... Nobody writes apocalyptic literature sitting at a Starbucks drinking lattes!" Mind-blowing tragedy had to be met with something just as mind-blowing to read. That is why the book of Revelation in the New Testament is so tripped out. The author and audience were likely under oppressive situations, and rather than frighten the original hearers – as it does for readers today – apocalyptic literature actually provided hope in a renewed earth whose ruler would ultimately be God.

            Daniel and Esther are just two examples of Jewish literature written during the Greek period, and they appear in both the Jewish canon and all of the Christian canons. But Jews everywhere were composing religious works in the centuries leading up to the time of Jesus and beyond. Some are part of certain canons of Scripture, and others never made it into any official canon. Like Daniel, some were apocalyptic (e.g. the book of Enoch, which is not in any canon of Scripture and so is called apocryphal). Some were not apocalyptic but rather tell the history, or a version of history, of the Maccabean revolt – namely 1 and 2 Maccabees which are found in Catholic and Orthodox Bibles.

            Other writings were like the book of Esther, novellas for Jews of the Diaspora about Jewish piety in foreign lands. The book of Tobit (again, in Catholic and Orthodox Bibles) is a rather cute story set in Assyria. Tobit, a devout Jewish deportee in Assyria, goes blind when bird droppings fall into his eyes. In misery and close to death, he sends his son, Tobiah, on a mission to bring back a sum of money he had deposited in a distant land before he dies. He is accompanied on his journey by Raphael, an angel incognito, and he marries a woman who had been afflicted by a demon that would kill her husbands on their respective wedding nights (yikes!). Luckily, thanks to Raphael, Tobiah escapes that same fate. He returns home with his bride and honorably buries his deceased parents.

            Like Esther, Judith also is another fictional novella in which Israel is saved by the hand of a woman. Much like the book of Judges, in which the woman, Jael, drives a tent peg into the head of an enemy general, Judith deceives the Assyrian general, Holofernes, and cuts off his head. As with Esther and Jael, the achievement of salvation by the actions of a pious woman in Judith only underscores the mighty and providential work of God in saving his people.

Judith and Holofernes by Artemisia Gentileschi. Google Images

            For reasons I hope to finally cover in the following post, the books of 1 & 2 Maccabees, Tobit, Judith and other books only made it into Catholic and Orthodox canons of Scripture. They are not part of today's Jewish or Protestant canons. Much of this has to do with the use of the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures known has the Septuagint, but we'll get into that next week. For now, however, I hope a little context is provided for the Hellenistic age and the kind of literature it inspired - especially the stuff from the 2^nd century (200-100 BCE), because those books are wild.

            Since today's post had a bit to do with apocalyptic literature, I suggest reading chapter 7 of Daniel. As I mentioned, it uses apocalyptic imagery to symbolize the succession of conquering empires, particularly the Seleucids, who persecuted the Jews. It also assures its 2^nd  century audience that God will eventually be the definitive ruler of the world and will establish an everlasting kingdom. I recommend using a Bible that has good explanatory footnotes for this passage, like the New American Bible. These will provide some historical context as you read. Given that this post also referred to the plight of persecuted and displaced Jews in foreign lands, perhaps you could use your reading of Daniel 7 to pray for immigrants and refugees throughout the world. So many people today must flee their homelands because of war, gang violence, and crushing poverty. Daniel 7 assures us that the "beasts" of war and destruction will be conquered by God, and God will establish his kingdom – a kingdom we know more clearly from the New Testament to be one of love, mercy, peace, justice, generosity, humility, patience, and gentleness.

            As always, I welcome questions and comments via e-mail (biblecodega@gmail.com) Facebook, Twitter (@biblecodega), and the comment box below. Today, however, and for the rest of the month, I am making a special request. Embedded here is a survey of the Bible Codega blog. As some of you know, this blog is part of a final project for a Master of Arts degree in Pastoral Ministry. I humbly request that you take 10 to 15 minutes to fill out an on-line, anonymous survey in order that I may gather data about the effectiveness of this blog. Please be honest and open in your responses; I will not take offense at anything. In fact, I would be interested in knowing how best I might be able to improve this blog in order to better serve you. It would be most appreciated if you could take this survey before February 29, 2016. To take this survey, simply click here. Thank you all so much, and until next time...

Peace and all good![1]

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[1] This post would not have been possible without this text as a reference:

Harris, Stephen L. and Robert L. Platzner. The Old Testament: An Introduction to the Hebrew Bible. Boston: McGraw-Hill, 2003.

Where Did the Bible Come From? Part II

           After the attacks of September 11, 2001, something changed in the United States. I distinctly remember watching a commercial on television that showed a row of houses with a voice-over that said something to the effect of "On September 11, terrorists tried to change America forever." Then it faded to a image of those same houses sometime after 9/11 with U.S. flags waving in the wind on each one of them. The voice-over then said, "Well, they succeeded." (You can click here to see the ad on Youtube.)

            However you may feel about said commercial, I bring it up for purely anthropological reasons... not political ones. To me, the ad illustrates something about the effects of trauma on a nation, a group of people, or even an individual. For better or for worse, each of these in some way will change as a result. After a devastating event, their attitudes, outlooks, and values change – or at least become stronger. Last week, I mentioned how the Israelites didn't have a pressing need to preserve their religious tradition until they were faced with the threat of losing it altogether. Although parts of it had been written, the Torah was not compiled and consolidated until after the traumatic experiences of the Temple's destruction (586 BCE) and the Babylonian exile. But fear of their tradition's disappearance was not the only motivation behind its preservation. National trauma has a way of strengthening people's convictions about identity, religion, and culture. The increase in patriotism that took hold after the events of 9/11/2001 is one example I can think of in our own time of this sort of phenomenon. This apparent effect due to devastating circumstances seems to play out as the Bible begins to take shape in the centuries after the exile.

"The Flight of the Prisoners" James Tissot (1836-1902)
Google Images

Image from www.newtestamentchristians.com/bible-land-maps/

            Last week we looked at some of the sources that contributed to the formation of the Torah. The developers and authors of the Priestly source were the ones mostly responsible for its final form (post exile), and by about the 5^th or 4^th century BCE those first five books of the Bible were more or less considered authoritative. Thanks to the Deuteronomists' fine work, we also have a sense that a fair few of the "historical books" were composed and collected by that time as well. But what of the other books of the Old Testament? How did those get lumped among the Scriptures?

            The Jewish canon of Scripture (the Tanak) is divided into the Torah, followed by the Prophets, which begins with the Deuteronomic History (Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings), and finally everything else (the Writings). I rather prefer the Jewish arrangement of the Hebrew Scriptures because the categories of books are organized somewhat more closely according to chronology and importance than the Christian canon. But then, as anyone who knows me would tell you, I love all things Jewish anyway. So given the placement of the prophets in the Tanak, it's fitting to talk about them next.

            Like the Torah, the prophetic works were edited (redacted) over time, especially the pre-exilic prophets, such as Amos. Some prophetic texts, like Isaiah or Zechariah, are even compilations of separate works written at different periods in history. However, much of the prophetic material derives from the oral sayings of a prophet during his ministry. What we have in written form was probably composed either by the prophet's disciples or those within the prophet's school of thought (like the so-called "school of Isaiah"), by the prophet himself, or by a combination of both. We know from Scripture that Jeremiah used a scribe named Baruch, for example. Most, if not all of the books, faced some degree of redaction. Some of the biographical material in the prophets, for example, was surely written by redactors some time later than when the prophet lived. For more about prophets, see my post, "The Bible Library: The Prophets," and check out the table of dates for an idea of when the prophets were active. I know how people feel about dating prophetic activity, so if you want to print the table out and put it on your fridge or bedroom wall, I totally understand. I found this one below on Google Images and loved it so much I posted it on Facebook.

Google Images. Thank you Dr. Bandstra and this webpage: http://barrybandstra.com/rtot4/rtot4-09-pt2.html

            Although they were not apparently always well heeded, The pre-exilic prophets were influential enough for their works to be copied and preserved through the traumatic events of the 6^th century. As Marc Zvi Brettler writes, "The complex activity of preserving and developing the prophetic oracle collections reflects a conviction that a prophet's words were not only significant for the circumstances in which they were originally pronounced but potentially relevant for later ones as well."[1] In other words, those preserving the prophetic material saw something of universal value in it. At this point, however, there wasn't a fixed canon of Scripture; works were still being redacted, especially in ways that reflected the social and religious needs of the time. It's unclear as to when the prophetic works actually became fixed and scribal editing began to cease – perhaps sometime before the end of the 3^rd century BCE. Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel were long enough to each have their own scroll. The twelve minor prophets, however, were small enough to fit on just one – thus, the "Book of the Twelve." Coincidence that there were twelve like the twelve tribes of Israel? Probably not. I'm sure the scribes intended it that way, even if it meant putting separate material under one name.

            This now leaves us with the Writings – basically everything else. More than any other collection of books that reflects post-exilic, national/religious attitudes are the books of Ezra-Nehemiah and Chronicles. Having lost both Temple and homeland, the Judahites in captivity reflected on their experience. What went wrong? The answer, they felt, was that they had been unfaithful to the covenant. So after the exile, in the period known as the Restoration, the religious beliefs of the Jewish people began to become more concretized, and cultural/national identity likewise intensified. (I can't help but think back to that aforementioned commercial.) Ezra, a priest and scribe, was a religious reformer. Nehemiah was an administrative reformer and governor of the province of Judah now under Persian domain. These books, once considered a unit, reflect an urge to rebuild the Temple and the city of Jerusalem. They are also not a little xenophobic. Both have very harsh  stances with regard to marriages with foreigners.

            1 & 2 Chronicles fall under a similar school of thought as Ezra and Nehemiah. Chronicles retells Israel's history and is rather nostalgic for what it believes were the nation's glory days: the reigns of David and Solomon. It's attitude: We were once a great nation, so let's write our history to highlight the greatness of David and Solomon (as we gloss over their faults), as well as those kings who were faithful to the covenant. And let's just not talk about the northern Kingdom. They were unfaithful and didn't worship in Jerusalem, and it muddles our ideal of a unified Israel. And we can blame our past problems on the infidelity of the kings who did not follow the covenant. That's our version of history.

            As far as the rest of the Writings go, each has its own tradition and are hardly, if even at all, connected to one another. Proverbs and Psalms have long oral traditions, and since they are collections of assorted sayings and songs, the dating of each one varies. Some were surely written before the exile, but some prove to be post-exilic. A fixed composition of Psalms and Proverbs did not exist until after the exile, maybe during the 4^th century.

            Much of the wisdom/poetical writings (Job, Lamentations, Song of Songs, Ecclesiastes) can be dated between the 6^th century (the traumatic one) and the 4^th century (the one that transitioned from the Persian period to the Greek period). Lamentations was written shortly after Jerusalem's destruction. Song of Songs, Ecclesiastes, and perhaps Ruth seemed to have been written after the exile. The latest books in the Jewish canon were Daniel, which takes place during the Babylonian exile but is secretly concerned with life under Greek domination (sneaky, sneaky), and Esther, which is set in Persia but was likewise written later during the Greek period.

            As I mentioned earlier, there is something about the experience of trauma that incites a desire to preserve and strengthen former ideals. This is perhaps why Ezra-Nehemiah are so religiously rigorous, and Chronicles so idealistic about history. And this is my guess as to why much of the Torah, the Prophets, and some of the Writings, were edited and compiled after the exile. Imagine what would happen if your house caught on fire. Say, your dog died, and a lot of your antiques and mementos perished in the tragedy. You have to find some other place to live. You're utterly crushed and devastated. Somehow or other though, a great deal of photographs and letters from deceased loved ones survived. What would you do with those things? Would you value them differently than before. Make copies of them? Keep them in a safe place?

            It seems that in the centuries after the exile, certain writings took on a significant meaning, and the Jewish people wanted to maintain them. Obviously some were considered authoritative more readily, namely the books of the Torah. The Prophets also would become especially meaningful and their words considered timeless. In time, so would the Writings. Interestingly enough, a lot of this biblical material has a wide range of perspectives and ideals. We've already seen how disparate sources are put side by side in the Torah. The anti-foreigner attitude of Ezra-Nehemiah contrasts significantly with the favorable attitude toward a foreign woman in the book of Ruth (A Moabite becomes the great-grandmother of King David. Shocking!) And the wisdom of Proverbs, which suggests that the good are blessed and the wicked are punished, is turned on its head with Job's bad-things-happen-to-everyone ideology. It doesn't seem like this bothered them that much, though. The compilers of the Hebrew Scriptures were literary hoarders. They didn't throw anything out.

            However, not everything made it into the Jewish canon of Scripture either, but that canon did not become fixed until sometime after the Christ event. There were many Jewish writings circulating in the centuries before the time of Jesus. Some of them never made it into any canon of Scripture. Some made it into the Christian canon but not the Jewish one. Later, several of those books would be omitted from some Christian canons after the Reformation. I hope to go over these sorts of things in the following posts of this "Where Did the Bible Come From" series. For now, I'll just wrap up today's post. (I hear a sigh of relief.) Today's topic was a little heavier, having a lot to do with trauma, bringing up painful memories from history, and even asking you to imagine your dog dying in a house fire. Who knew writing about the compilation of Scripture would get so dark?

            For that reason, I recommend for this week reading Nehemiah 8:1-12. It takes place during the Restoration after the exile. The book of the Law is read to the assembly of the people, and they are told to rejoice and not weep. This is a community that has been through hell and back. They're survivors, and now they are being consoled and strengthened by God's law and a possibly hopeful future. As you read this passage, consider a time in your life after you had experienced a tragedy. Who or what was your consolation? Did you experience God at all in the midst of your suffering and/or recovery? Does God's word give you comfort or joy? Which passages are particularly meaningful to you?

            By the way, the season of Lent is rapidly approaching (Yay!). If you're thinking about something you might like to do to deepen your spiritual life during this special time of year, here is a suggestion. Start a small, Scripture based faith-sharing group with your friends. You can use the Gospel reading from Sunday's liturgy, a suggested reading from this blog, or go through a particular portion of the Bible that interests you. Make an evening of it. Have some wine, cheese, crackers, Lit'l Smokies Sausages (unless it's Friday). Enjoy an evening with your friends, some food, and Scripture. You don't have to be a Bible scholar to share with your friends how the Scriptures are touching your life. You can use Pope Francis' advice on scriptural meditation as a guideline: "In the presence of God, during a recollected reading of the text, it is good to ask, for example: 'Lord, what does this text say to me? What is it about my life that you want to change by this text? What troubles me about this text? Why am I not interested in this? Or perhaps: What do I find pleasant in this text? What is it about this word that moves me? What attracts me? Why does it attract me?'" – Evangelii gaudium (Joy of the Gospel).

            As always, questions and comments are most welcome via e-mail, Facebook, this blog site, or now Twitter. I'm still getting used to that last one. Any tips on how to use it more effectively would be most appreciated. Until next time...

Peace and all good![2]

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[1] Marc Zvi Brettler, "Nevi'im: Introduction," in The Jewish Study Bible," ed. Adele Berlin and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), 457.

[2] This post could not have been possible without these other sources:

Coogan, Michael D. The Old Testament: A Historical and Literary Introduction to the Hebrew Scriptures. New York: Oxford University Press, 2006.

Gabel John B. and Charles B. Wheeler. The Bible as Literature: An Introduction New York: Oxford University Press, 1986.

Gottwald, Norman K. The Hebrew Bible: A Socio-Literary Introduction. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1985. (Particularly the chart on pages 104-105.)

Where Did the Bible Come From? Part I

           In the fall I asked some friends and family what kinds of questions they had about the Bible, and one of the topics that came up the most frequently had to do with the composition, compilation, and canonization of the Bible (Yay, alliteration! I think I'll refer to these as the Three Cs). In short, people want to know how the Bible came to be. Most folks are well aware that it didn't just drop into the lap of some ancient religious leaders by the Holy Spirit. But a lot of people still aren't really sure about the Bible's actual origins.

            As I have insisted in my earliest posts, the Bible is not really a book, but more like a library of books. It is a whole corpus of literature composed over a period of a thousand plus years or so, and its content concerns events that range over two thousand years of history (delving into some undatable, legendary periods as well). The books of Bible are compiled somewhat according to the order of the over-arching narrative – where there is a narrative to follow – but certainly not according to when they were written. Some of the older books of the Hebrew Scriptures predate some of the books of the Torah (those first 5 books). Matthew's Gospel precedes Mark's in the New Testament, but Mark was almost certainly written first – not to mention the letters of Paul before any of the Gospels. And Romans is the first letter to appear among Paul's epistles, but it was likely one of his later letters. Basically, the ordering of the books in the Bible has little to do with the date of their composition.

            The who and when of biblical authorship is a rather complex issue. Regarding the Old Testament alone, most of the books were not composed by single authors but were more so the product of collaboration "– collaboration of a special kind because the various authors were widely separated in space and time, had no knowledge of one another, and certainly had no conception of the form that their work would finally take."[1] The Hebrew Scriptures had a slow development that included various authors, sources (both oral and written), editors, and compilers. This is especially true for the Torah, which brings me to source analysis and the "Documentary Hypothesis." (Exciting, right?) As technical as these sound, they're really just fancy terms for talking about how the Torah is a compilation of several sources with varying origins and points of view.

            Personally, I am a fan of the concept of the Documentary Hypothesis, and I have no problem believing that the Scriptures were developed from various sources. As with many things in academic disciplines however, it's a theory, and scholars continue to debate and dispute the dating and nature of the proposed sources. However, as Michael Coogan concedes, "the data must be explained, and almost all scholars agree with the general principle that underlying the present text of the first five books of the Bible are distinct sources."[2]

             One way we can think about the use of various sources in the formation of the Torah is to imagine writing a book on your family's ancestry. You might have heard family stories from your grandma Dorothy, but then you also have a diary written by your great-aunt Bertha. Maybe you find a few legal documents that have to do with your great-grandfather Robert on ancestry.com, so you decide to add those to the mix as well. And then there are always those family legends – the ones that have been passed down from generation to generation with a few variations here and there. You're not sure if they actually happened in the same way that they've been related, but they reflect an important part of your family's character and identity, so you put them in too. Some of the materials may seem to contradict each other. Perhaps Dorothy tells a story that disagrees with Bertha's diary, but you choose to put it all together anyway and try to make a somewhat homogenized story of your family.

            All analogies fail at some point, of course, but I hope this kind helps to put in perspective what I mean by the use of sources in the Torah's composition. Just as the family stories were passed down orally before writing this book from the example, the oral traditions which influenced the biblical texts also had a long-standing history before they were committed to writing. But just like Bertha's diary or Robert's legal documents in the analogy, it wasn't only oral traditions that were used as sources in the development of the Torah. Some written material was produced as early as the monarchy, which began around the 10^th century BCE (the 900s).These sources, both oral and written, would eventually would lead to the formulation of parts of the Torah.

            With some confidence, scholars can point to the reign of Josiah of Judah (640-609 BCE) as a datable period for an early edition of what would become the book of Deuteronomy. At that time, a so-called "Book of the Law" was "found" in the Temple (see 2 Kings 22:1- 23:30). Later, with the experience of the Babylonian exile and the threat of their religious faith disappearing altogether, there was an unprecedented need "to fix [their] traditions permanently as canonical documents."[3] So by about the 4^th century, a good while after the exile, the material that made up the Torah was collected, compiled, and redacted to form more or less what we know as the Torah today.

            So, okay, by that time we pretty much have the Torah, and it evidently was an authoritative text for its readers (i.e. canonical), since the post-exilic Judahites needed to preserve and pass on their religious faith. But what were those sources that made up the Torah? Here is just a bird's-eye view of the four classical sources and some of their characteristics.

J (Jahwist): This source, pronounced YAH-wist (because them Germans have the market on biblical scholarship, and they pronounce Js like Ys, as in Jägermeister) is so named because when referring to God this source uses the Divine Name, YHWH. English Bibles typically never use the Divine Name, and rightly so out of respect. Instead, whenever the Divine Name appears it reads the LORD, and in fact, whenever Jewish people read from the Scriptures and encounter the Divine Name in Hebrew they instead say Adonai, which more or less means "Lord." J is probably the earliest of the traditions, and it likely developed in the southern Kingdom (Judah). God is depicted as more humanlike and speaks more directly to human beings rather than through messengers.

E (Elohist): This source is so named because it uses the Hebrew word elohim to refer to God – at least up to the revelation of the Divine Name in Exodus 3. Elohim is usually simply translated as "God" in English Bibles. In E, God is more distant and communicates through dreams and messengers (angels). Geographically it has a more northern perspective. The term "prophet" is favored in this source, for even Abraham is called a prophet. Also, the mountain known as "Sinai" in J is here called "Horeb" (as well as in the D source, but I'm not there yet). Since E is very fragmented and intertwined closely into the J source, the two are sometimes indistinguishable.

P (Priestly): The Priestly source gets its name because it deals so much with religious matters and instructions: rituals, sacrifices, Sabbaths, etc. It was likely the last of the four sources to develop – probably during 6^th century, given the need to preserve the traditions in the midst of the turmoil that occurred in that period (destruction of the Temple, exile, return and reconstruction; let's face it, the 500s were a trying and pivotal century). Almost all of Leviticus is from the P source, but P is interlaced in all of the books of the Torah. God is more remote in P than any other source. The light-filled cloud described in Exodus is an example of P's distant and transcendent depiction of God's glory.

            If you're wondering how all of these sources got pulled together, you can thank the P source for at least being the final editors of the source materials, which is why their contributions  are found in all five books. In fact, chapter 1 of Genesis and the last chapter of Deuteronomy are from P, so it basically bookends the  whole Torah. It may have been a later source, but the Johnny-come-latelies got the final say.

   

D (Deuteronomic): You can thank the Deuteronomists for a good chunk of the Hebrew Scriptures. A type of religious/intellectual movement which scholars refer to as the Deuteronomic School developed as early as the 8^th century in the northern Kingdom (Israel). That school later moved to Judah after the fall of Israel to the Assyrians. Surprise, surprise, the Deuteronomic source was responsible for most of the book of Deuteronomy (from which the D source gets its name). But the Deuteronomists were also the authors of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. These books make up what is known as the Deuteronomic History. They also edited and possibly collected material from a number of the earlier prophetic books, most particularly Jeremiah, who himself may have been part of the Deuteronomic School. Obviously this school of thought didn't have much to do with what we mean by "schools" today, but if it did and had I lived back then, I would have had a closet full of their T-shirts and gone to all their games with a big foam finger. I am that much of a fan of their accomplishments. Go Deuteronomists!

            This is merely a rough sketch of the four main hypothetical sources originally proposed by Julius Wellhausen (1844-1918).There were indeed other source traditions in existence. For example, chapters 17-26 of Leviticus probably derive from a separate source known as the "Holiness Code." And the book of Numbers is a patchwork of not just J, E, and P, but of other folklore, laws, lists and accounts that were passed down.[4] Some of the books of the Old Testament even refer to non-biblical textual sources (e.g. the Book of Jasher) which have since been lost to us.

            Lastly, we cannot pretend that the literature and oral traditions from the surrounding cultures and nations had no effect on biblical writings. The Israelites settled among Canaanites and were under Egyptian, Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian, and Greek domination at different periods of their history. Naturally, some of the literature and lore of their neighbors and captors would have rubbed off on them. It's no surprise, for example, that multiple flood stories occur in ancient Near Eastern literature. But comparing biblical and other ancient Near Eastern texts is a topic for another day. The point is that the formation of biblical literature was a rather organic process and consisted of much more than just a handful of individual authors. Even the Documentary Hypothesis can be critiqued for oversimplifying what was certainly a complicated development.

     

            But why does any of this matter? What sort of effect will it have on our biblical reading? Why am I going into a whole rant about source analysis? One reason is simply because I find that people are hungry to know where the Bible comes from. How did this anthology of books come about that has had so much influence over history and our lives today. The best way I could think of to approach that question was to write a bit about the ever-enthralling Documentary Hypothesis. The other reason, however, is because I am edified and mystified by the wondrous way in which God communicates God's self. As I said in my previous post, the Truth has a way of making itself know to us. The fact that multiple sources and traditions – some of which differ greatly in perspective from one another – can all be brought together to proclaim the word of God says something about God's infinite greatness and inclusivity. We find that God is more "both/and" than "either/or." Some lament the apparent contradictions in Scripture. I prefer to see them as an example of the fine tension in which all things are held, tempering extremism and giving us the freedom to stretch our arms out wider to embrace even more of the mystery of our faith.

            For this week, I recommend reading chapters 1 & 2 of Genesis. They're a perfect example of two separate sources at work. If you compare these creation myths, you'll find distinctive and differing characteristics between them. Gen 1-2:3 is from the P source, and in it there is more of a sense of bringing order out of chaos. It orders creation with the perfect number, seven, and concludes with Sabbath rest. God is more distant in chapter one; God speaks, and creation is made. On the other hand, Gen 2:4-24 is from the J source. God is more humanlike, forming a man out of the earth like a potter, planting the garden like a gardener, building up a woman from the man's rib. The narrative is much more story-like with explanatory asides and a developing plot which will unfold in the following chapters. You don't have to try to pick out all the differences in the two accounts, but I would encourage you to see how each one is unique but at the same time speaks a truth about God, humanity, stewardship, the goodness of creation and the preeminence of relationship.

            Since this post is only Part One of a series of entries on the Bible's origins, I hope to go over other areas of the Three Cs in subsequent posts. Today's has only covered a tiny speck of what is certainly a topic best explored in a lecture series with an actual professor. Nevertheless, I welcome questions and comments via e-mail, Facebook, or this blog page. And now you can even follow the Codega on Twitter (@biblecodega). Come back next week for more about the origins of the Bible, and until then...

Peace and all good!

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[1] John B. Gabel and Charles B. Wheeler, The Bible as Literature: An Introduction, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986), 9.

[2] Michael D. Coogan, The Old Testament: A Historical and Literary Introduction to the Hebrew Scriptures, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 28.

[3] Ibid., 76.

[4] Ibid., 145 & 153.