(Re)writing the Bible: solving contradictions between Kings and Chronicles (and in the Gospels)

Solomon offering sacrifices

Solomon offers sacrifices at the dedication of the temple, Masters of Otto van Moerdrecht, Netherlands, 1430

I was raised in a denomination which firmly believed in the “inerrancy” of the Bible and any apparent contradiction between one part of the Bible and another had to be resolved. This usually meant that the alleged contradiction was explained in such a way that the contradiction no longer existed, and sometimes it meant “doubling up” with accounts of stories. For example, the Gospel of Mark tells a story of Jesus healing a man who was blind and begging beside the road. Mark specifically says this happened as Jesus was leaving the city of Jericho (Mark 10:46). Luke tells the same story, but in his version the incident took place as Jesus was entering the city of Jericho (Luke 18:35). A minor difference perhaps, but for someone who believes the Bible is free of any errors it is an important problem to resolve. I’ve heard a number of possible explanations which have been offered to explain away the contradiction: (a) Jesus actually healed two blind beggars, one as he was entering the city and another as he was leaving (this kind of “doubling up” has been used to solve several contradictions in the Gospels); (b) there were two cities called “Jericho” close to each other (the “old” city and a “new” city), and this miracle happened between them, as Jesus was leaving one and entering the other; or (c) Jesus left the city of Jericho but then turned around to go back and it was then that he healed the beggar, so he was both “leaving” and  “entering” at the same time. We can easily rule out (a) as the stories are so similar, with the beggar in both stories using identical words to address Jesus, that there could have been only one incident. Many ancient cities (such as Jerusalem) have both “old” and “new” districts to this day; however, while you might say, for example, that you are leaving the “old city” of Jerusalem and going to one of the new suburbs, you wouldn’t say you are leaving Jerusalem and entering Jerusalem, and you wouldn’t refer to the two areas in such a way that you could be said to be both entering and leaving the city at the same time, so (b) is highly improbable. We can also rule out (c) as being simply far-fetched and doesn’t fit with either Mark or Luke.  The simplest, most logical, and best solution to the problem is that the incident took place outside the city, and whether Jesus was entering or leaving wasn’t an important detail whose accuracy overly concerned the writers. One of them simply got this detail wrong.

However, for Bible readers who believe in inerrancy every detail has to be absolutely correct, and this results in the sort of mental and exegetical gymnastics such as the examples above. It’s quite plain from the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) that some of the writers were aware of similar contradictions or errors in versions of biblical books which were available to them, and they attempted to re-write them to remove the contradictions. How they did so is insightful for how the writers of the Bible themselves viewed “errors” and contradictions. I’ll go back to the different accounts of the history of Israel in Kings and Chronicles to provide an example.

The book of Kings describes how Solomon built the Temple in Jerusalem, and provides details of how he paid King Hiram of the Phoenician city of Tyre for some of the building materials, including a note about how Hiram was dissatisfied with the payment.

10 At the end of twenty years, in which Solomon had built the two houses, the house of the LORD and the king’s house, 11 King Hiram of Tyre having supplied Solomon with cedar and cypress timber and gold, as much as he desired, King Solomon gave to Hiram twenty cities in the land of Galilee. 12 But when Hiram came from Tyre to see the cities that Solomon had given him, they did not please him. 13 Therefore he said, “What kind of cities are these that you have given me, my brother?” So they are called the land of Cabul to this day. 14 But Hiram had sent to the king one hundred twenty talents of gold. (1 Kings 9:10-14)

While selling or bartering with cities was not unheard of in the ancient world, it’s odd that Solomon paid Hiram with 20 cities when elsewhere in both Kings and Chronicles it is recorded that he was extremely wealthy and silver and gold were “as common as stones” in Jerusalem (1 Kings 3:13; 10:27; 2 Chronicles 1:12, 15; 9:27). Why not pay for the timber with silver or gold, and why buy gold when it’s already so plentiful and “common as stones”? Surrendering 20 cities also contradicts the claim made earlier (1 Kings 4:21) that “Solomon was sovereign over all the kingdoms from the Euphrates to the land of the Philistines, even to the border of Egypt; they brought tribute and served Solomon all the days of his life.”

It seems that the writer of Chronicles, who appears to have used an edition of Kings as one of his primary sources, also noticed the difficulties. Chronicles frequently quotes Kings word-for-word and when it came to this part of the story the Chronicler starts out in just this way by copying Kings: “At the end of twenty years, during which Solomon had built the house of the LORD and his own house …” (2 Chronicles 8:1). But then, in order to resolve the difficulty of handing over 20 cities to Hiram, Chronicles completely changed what followed: “Solomon rebuilt the cities that Huram had given to him, and settled the people of Israel in them” (v.2). This is the exact opposite of what is in Kings! In Chronicles it is Hiram who gives 20 cities to Solomon, and there is no mention of gold. The Chronicler didn’t simply avoid the problem by deleting the difficult verses (as he does elsewhere), he sets the record straight (at least as he sees it, or according to his other sources) and contradicts Kings. His new version avoids the difficulties of the fabulously wealthy Solomon being unable to pay for timber, and of Solomon bartering for gold when he purportedly already had plenty of it; and it removes the contradiction in Kings that Solomon expanded Israel’s borders but also purchased goods by ceding territory. So one book of the Bible “rewrote” an earlier version of history in another book of the Bible, and both versions continued to exist.

Which of the two accounts is correct we may never know. Chronicles provides a more consistent portrayal of Solomon as extremely wealthy and to whom neighbouring kings were subservient, but this does not mean it is a more accurate account; rather, it suggests that it was written at one time, possibly by a single author, with a deliberate agenda. As I pointed out in earlier posts, Kings has no problem with presenting the kings of Israel and Judah as deeply flawed characters, and in fact we can be fairly certain that to do so was one of the writer(s) main interests; Chronicles on the other hand sets out to portray David and Solomon as successful model kings. It sometimes does so by ignoring difficulties in Kings and “deleting” stories or details which don’t fit with its version of Israel’s history, but at other times, such as here, it “corrects” the record and provides an entirely new version. Both versions of Israel’s history are fascinating, and I am personally more interested in trying to discover the writers’ motives for recording history as they did than in attempting to reconcile difficulties or to “harmonise” the accounts. More important (to me) than knowing what actually happened is why the writers told different and conflicting stories; how their different accounts influenced the development of ideas and the unfolding of history; and how this helps me to understand the Bible.

Name puns: Solomon as a man of peace

Cornelis_de_Vos_-_The_Anointing_of_Solomon

The Anointing of Solomon by Zadok the priest. Cornelis de Vos, 1630.

Puns on names of people is a common phenomenon in many languages, including biblical Hebrew. Puns do not, however, translate easily from one language to another and so they are often lost in translation. The Bible contains a few well-known name-puns, largely because they are explained in the text or in translators’ footnotes. For example, we have one in 1 Samuel 25:25 where Abigail, speaking to David about her husband Nabal, says “My lord, do not take seriously this ill-natured fellow, Nabal; for as his name is, so is he; Nabal is his name, and folly is with him.” The pun isn’t obvious in the English translation but the explanation lets us know that one exists. In fact, the Hebrew Nabal נָבָל (more correctly pronounced Naval) means “foolish”, “worthless” or “good for nothing”.  Since it is unlikely his parents hated him so much as to call him “fool” from birth, scholars have discussed how the name might also be understood according to an alternative Semitic root meaning “noble.” The meaning “fool” would be a play on the double meaning of the name. It’s a word-play: his name may actually have meant “noble” but it sounded like the word for “fool” so it would be an easy way to denigrate him. These types of puns are much more common in the Bible than we might realise by reading an English translation, and it seems that they are particularly prevalent in the books of Samuel and Kings.

I mentioned in my previous post that Solomon’s name in Hebrew – שְׁלֹמֹה, Shlomoh – actually  sounds very similar to the Hebrew word for “peace” – שָׁלוֹם shalom – and he has a reputation for being a man of peace. The book of Chronicles is largely responsible for giving Solomon that reputation. In the book of Kings Solomon secures the throne through the bloody murders of his brother Adonijah and his supporters; hardly a man of peace. Further to this, it appears that the writer of Kings uses a series of puns playing on Solomon’s name and the word for peace, but using them in the context of bloodshed. Here are some of them:

  • Before David died he spoke with Solomon about his general Joab (a loyal supporter throughout David’s reign) and referred to two incidents where Joab killed Abner one of Saul’s commanders who had gone over to David, but whom Joab did not trust, and Amasa one of his own relatives whom he believed to be conspiring against David. David, however, read Joab’s motives differently and so he encouraged Solomon to carry out an act of post-mortem vengeance on his behalf: “you know also what Joab son of Zeruiah did to me, how he dealt with the two commanders of the armies of Israel, Abner son of Ner, and Amasa son of Jether, whom he murdered, retaliating in time of peace for blood that had been shed in war” (1 Kings 2:5). The word “peace” is mentioned several times throughout these narratives (e.g. 2 Samuel 3:21-23; 20:9).  An interesting thing here is that the vengeance was allegedly for shedding blood “in time of peace (שָׁלוֹם shalom)”. Ironically, throughout David’s reign, there never was “a time of peace”!
  • David’s advice/instruction to Solomon about Joab was “do not let his gray head go down to Sheol in peace” (1 Kings 2:6), emphasing that Solomon was not to allow Joab to have a peaceful death. He was murdered on Solomon’s instructions while seeking sanctuary at the altar of God.
  • The record of David’s death and Solomon’s accession to the throne (and, according to some scholars, the end of the long section in Samuel-Kings called the “succession narrative”) ends with Solomon ordering that Joab be struck down beside the altar at the tent of the Lord: “so shall the blood of Abner and Amasa come back on the head of Joab and on the head of his descendants forever; but to David, and to his descendants, and to his house, and to his throne, there shall be peace from the LORD forevermore” (1 Kings 2:33). David and Solomon blamed Joab for the kingdom’s woes because he allegedly shed blood during a time of peace; yet, ironically, they think that peace will eventually come through shedding more blood!
  • After Solomon secured the throne “Adonijah son of Haggith came to Bathsheba, Solomon’s mother. She asked, ‘Do you come peaceably?’ He said, ‘Peaceably‘.” (1 Kings 2:13). The question and declaration that he came in peace use the word שָׁלוֹם shalom. This “peacable” audience with Bathsheba was soon to end with Adonijah’s death.

After a great deal of war and bloodshed throughout David’s reign these early chapters of Kings give the impression that peace was finally expected to come through שְׁלֹמֹה, Shlomoh, Solomonthe man of peace. There are a number of ironies here. First, Solomon secured the throne only by shedding more blood; and second, the bloodshed was not over. Solomon thereafter commenced a series of military campaigns against neighbouring nations in order to secure peace through warfare. It may very well be that the writer of Kings is highlighting the irony by juxtaposing the word “peace” – which sounds like “Solomon” – with “blood”, “war” and “death” on several occasions.  Perhaps the writer wasn’t convinced by the propaganda of the Zadokite priests whose descendants were probably behind the writing of the alternative version of Israel’s history which made Solomon out to be a peaceful king. Through the clever use of puns Kings reminds its readers that Solomon’s so-called peace came at the cost of bloodshed! And “peace” which comes through bloodshed isn’t really peace.

The Bible in Conversation with itself (3): Why two (different) accounts of the reign of Solomon?

Solomon_and_the_Plan_for_the_Temple

Solomon and the Plan for the Temple (1896)

I’ve already raised the question of why the Bible includes two versions of the history of Israel. A clue as to why we have different versions can be discovered by looking at the two different accounts of the reign of Solomon, traditionally regarded as one of Israel’s greatest kings.

The books of Kings and Chronicles not only have different versions of the reign of Solomon, they portray Solomon in entirely conflicting ways. In Chronicles Solomon is a man of peace (his name in Hebrew – שְׁלֹמֹה, Shlomoh – actually  sounds very similar to the Hebrew word for “peace” – shalom) and was therefore enabled to build the Temple in Jerusalem instead of his father David who was prevented from doing so because he had shed blood (1 Chroncles 28:3). However, in the Kings version, Solomon also shed quite a lot of blood, including murdering his brother Adonijah who was first in line to the throne, and Joab, David’s general and a supporter of Adonijah’s claim to the throne (1 Kings 2:24-34). In fact, the story of Solomon’s accession to the throne in Kings begins with a series of murders ordered by Solomon. Hardly a “man of peace”!

While Chronicles devotes a great deal of space to describing the building of the Temple as one of Solomon’s greatest achievements, picturing him as a godly man, Kings is careful to point out that Solomon spent more time and effort building his own palace (13 years) than he did in building the Temple (7 years) picturing him as self-interested (1 Kings 6:38; 7:1). Kings is almost meticulous in describing how Solomon repeatedly broke the laws in Deuteronomy which set out how a king was to be appointed and reign. Chronicles on the other hand doesn’t have a bad word to say about him, and omits all this negative material found in Kings. Reading the two accounts is almost like reading descriptions of two different kings!

So why is this? How could it be that these two versions of Israel’s history contain such glaringly different views of one of their most famous kings? The answer may be in the Kings account of Solomon’s bloody accession to the throne. While ordering the murders of Adonijah and Joab, Solomon specifically spared Abiathar the priest who had also supported Adonijah’s claim to the throne:

The king [Solomon] said to the priest Abiathar, “Go to Anathoth, to your estate; for you deserve death. But I will not at this time put you to death, because you carried the ark of the Lord GOD before my father David, and because you shared in all the hardships my father endured.”  So Solomon banished Abiathar from being priest to the LORD, thus fulfilling the word of the LORD that he had spoken concerning the house of Eli in Shiloh. (1 Kings 2:26-27)

In his place Solomon appointed Zadok as priest (1 Kings 2:35). We don’t hear much about Abiathar after that, or what happened when he got to Anathoth, except we read that centuries later Jeremiah the prophet was “of the priests who were in Anathoth” (Jeremiah 1:1). The most likely explanation for this connection to Anathoth was that Abiathar continued to minister there as a priest and this priestly order continued to the time of Jeremiah. Interestingly, many scholars have noted that Jeremiah’s “writing style” including his use of certain key words and phrases is very similar to the book of Kings and the other books in what we call “the Deuteronomistic History” (Joshua, Judges and Samuel). Some scholars argue that the book of Kings was actually written, or edited, by priests/scribes who belonged to this priestly community set up by Abiathar in Anathoth. Chronicles, on the other hand, was probably written by priests/scribes who descended from Zadok. The Anathoth priests were descended from a supporter of Adonijah, while the Zadokite priests were descended from a supporter of Solomon. Two groups of priests/scribes/scholars with two entirely different perspectives on the reign of Solomon and therefore two different versions of his reigns and opinions as to whether he was a good or bad king. Remarkably, both accounts of Israel’s history were preserved, and both were eventually bound together in the book we call “the Bible”!

The Bible in Conversation with itself (2): Why two accounts of the history of Israel?

ChroniclesMy previous posts on The Bible in Conversation with itself and How the Bible was (re)written were on a similar theme, building on some ideas which I’ve blogged about in the past. This post (and possibly others to follow) continues on the same theme.

In my early Bible-reading days I was puzzled about why the Bible contained two very similar histories of Israel, often with almost identical wording, but also with stories that were unique to each account. It’s a similar question to why the New Testament has four accounts (‘Gospels’) of Jesus’ life. Wouldn’t it be simpler and more straight-forward to have just one? The question presupposes some intentionality and design in how the Bible was written. Personally, if was writing the Bible I’d go for simplicity and avoid unnecessary duplication and I’d produce a kind of ‘Readers Digest version’ of the Bible. But then, the question also presupposes that someone, or some group of Bible, at some point in time, set out to write the Bible. We know that’s not how it happened. The Bible came together as a collection of writings, or a collection of collections, and as I’ve mentioned previously there is some very good internal evidence that the work of collecting these texts took place over a long period and some editing work was done along the way.

It may come as a surprise to some people that not all Bibles are the same, or contain the same ‘books.’ There is a well-known difference between Catholic and Orthodox Bibles and Protestant ones in that Catholic and Orthodox Bibles contain a number of books known as ‘Apocrypha’ (or Deutero-canonical books). Lesser known is the fact that Catholic and Orthodox Bibles differ as to the number of books accepted as Apocrypha or Deutero-canonical. Then the Ethiopian Coptic Bible includes some additional books (1 Enoch and Jubilees). Historically we know that early Christians debated for a long time about which books should be included in the Canon, and the matter was never fully settled to the agreement of all churches. The New Testament itself quotes (or alludes to) books which the writers regarded as ‘Scripture’ which are known to us but which didn’t make the final cut (e.g. Jude quotes from 1 Enoch, which is a good case for why the Ethiopian church might have got it right by including it). So, if there are several different versions of the Bible to this day it shouldn’t be surprising that there were also different versions in early times, even during the period when the books of the Bible were still being written.

In this post I want to speculate about why we have two versions of Israel’s history in the Hebrew Bible: the books of Kings and Chronicles (incidentally, although Christian Bibles have 1 and 2 Kings and 1 and 2 Chronicles, in the Hebrew Bible these are just one book each. The Greek Septuagint regards 1 and 2 Samuel and 1 and 2 Kings as one ‘book’ but divides them up as 1, 2, 3 and 4 Kingdoms. The Hebrew Bible knows these four books, together with Joshua and Judges, as ‘The Former Prophets’. Many modern Biblical scholars refer to the Former Prophets collection as the Deuteronomistic History.)

At this point I should explain two terms frequently found in scholarly literature: synchronic and diachronic. In a nutshell, to read a book synchronically is to read it as a whole, as a single unit, without any special consideration of how the book may have ‘evolved’ over time. A diachronic reading, on the other hand, tries to identify the various ‘layers’ as the book was edited, redacted and modified by several hands over time; it attempts to identify the various sources and concerns of each editor in the process. Even those who read books in this way – diachronically – will acknowledge that what we have now is the ‘final form’ of what may have been a long process of editing and redaction, and this final form should be read as a single unit (i.e. synchronically), the last revision by the final editor. Having noted previously that there is evidence within Kings of editing, and that the various manuscripts and the ancient versions testify to the existence of a number of ‘versions’ of the Bible, even during the time when the Bible was still being written, the final forms of Kings and Chronicles indicate that they have quite different fundamental concerns and interests.

When we read Kings and Chronicles we note several similarities and differences:

  1. There are several portions of Chronicles which are nearly identical to sections in Kings, which suggests that the writer of Chronicles may have been familiar with Kings, or one of the sources of Kings, and was intentionally writing a new version.
  2. While Kings records the histories of the kings of both Israel (the northern kingdom) and Judah (the southern kingdom), Chronicles is interested primarily in the kings of Judah.
  3. In Chronicles both David and Solomon are regarded as model kings. It contains details about both kings which are not in Kings, and this additional information always extols their kingships. Negative information about David and Solomon contained in the book of Kings (such as David’s adultery with Bathsheba and Solomon’s idolatry) are not found in Chronicles. It is as though the records have been ‘white-washed’  to make these kings seem better than they actually were.
  4. In a similar way, the formulaic condemnation of the kings – “he did what was evil in the sight of the Lord” – is found repetitively through Kings but nowhere near as often in Chronicles.   Some of the stories in Chronicles have been ‘cleaned up’ to present a better image of them than the one in Kings (such as Manasseh’s sins and his repentance which I mentioned in part 1.)
  5. The writer(s) of Chronicles seems to approve of the Davidic Dynasty and makes an effort to present a positive picture of many of the kings descended from David.
  6. The writer(s) of Kings, on the other hand, condemns even exemplary kings, detailing the failings of David and Solomon and painting all the kings as deeply flawed characters.
  7. Chronicles omits many of the stories found in Kings about prophets, including the long accounts about Samuel, Elijah and Elisha. It also refers to the work of the Levites in the Temple (including musicians) as ‘prophecy,’ changing the image of what/who is a prophet. Chronicles has many more details about priests and Temple institutions than does Kings.

Why do these two books paint such different pictures of Israel’s history? Scholars have various theories about this, although there is also a fair degree of consensus. What follows is my current thinking on the matter.

After the Babylonian exile, when the Persians allowed the exiles to return to their homeland in Israel/Judah (then known as the Persian province of Yehud), there must have been a great deal of discussion amongst the returning exiles, as well as with the people who had remained in the Land and not gone into exile, about what kind of nation they would rebuild. Some matters which needed to be resolved were issues about what kind of government they would have, and whether they would return to a monarchy with a king in the line of David. Whether they had a monarchy or not, various voices would want to be heard in government and the competing interests of priests, Levites and prophets would need to be negotiated. Related to this would be the centrality of Jerusalem, and the importance of the Temple and its institutions.

It seems to me that on one hand Chronicles reflects the interests of priests and Levites who believed they could work together with a king in the Davidic dynasty, and who regarded the Temple in Jerusalem and its institutions to be central to both their faith and to culture and society in a rebuilt nation. The book of Kings, on the other hand, reflects another side in the debate. Its writers saw the monarchy as a deeply-flawed institution and blamed the kings for Israel’s predicament in going into exile. They wanted no place for a monarch in the new nation. They did, however, value the role of prophets, a class of individuals who were not necessarily linked to the priests, and wanted their influence to be a dominant one.

Read this way, it makes perfect sense why two different accounts of Israel’s history would be written or needed. Subsequent history demonstrates that there may have been a sort of compromise between the two groups, or they at least fought out their differences. The history of the rivalries between various groups in the era of the Maccabees makes interesting reading in this connection. Ultimately there was no revival of the monarchy, although the priests did exercise a huge amount of influence and authority. The role of ‘prophet’ seems to have morphed into that of a scholar, or scribe, and eventually into the sages and Rabbis. The differing accounts of Kings and Chronicles give us important information about the competing voices at this stage in Israel’s history and in the development of Judaism, which we would not have if there was only one homogenised historical record. Those who were responsible for the Canon of the Hebrew Bible obviously understood that it is important to preserve differing voices. The Bible does not have to present a single, consistent message, but contains a record of the development of ideas in an ongoing conversation.

How the Bible was (re)written

Scribe writing a TorahI’m sure some people would love to re-write the Bible, perhaps leaving out the difficult bits such as those ‘commandments’ which are hard to follow, or making the foggy parts a bit clearer. In some ways translators do this every time they try to clear up a problem in the original languages by making it ‘simpler’ in English. The work of translation is also one of interpretation, and every translator inevitably has to interpret, or re-interpret, what they are reading for a new audience. Most are very good at it, although translations made by religious denominations run the risk of making the Bible say what they want it to say, rather than letting it speak for itself.

It may come as a surprise to some people to learn that the practice of re-writing the Bible began very early, while the Bible was still being written! In my previous post I wrote about the process of redaction and editing which took place as ideas were discussed, challenged, revised and reformulated. In some cases conflicting ideas appear in the Bible as it preserves more than one voice in the discussion, and we get an insight in to how ancient people wrestled with difficult subjects and formulated their religious ideas.

To illustrate the point I want to look at just one example of how the Bible preserves more than one ‘edition’ of a text using just one piece of evidence in the Book of Kings that it went through a process of editing, and it may only have been in the final stage (or stages) of editing that some Deuteronomistic ideas were added (such as blaming Manasseh for the exile four generations later). We have three similar but different versions of the reign of Zedekiah recorded in 2 Kings 24:18-25:12, Jeremiah 52:1-16 and in the Greek Septuagint version of Jeremiah 52. The table below compares the first three verses from each account.

2 Kings 24:18-20 Jeremiah 52:1-3 LXX Jeremiah 52:1-3 [1]
18 Zedekiah was twenty-one years old when he became king, and he reigned eleven years in Jerusalem; his mother’s name was Hamutal daughter of Jeremiah of Libnah.

19 He did what was displeasing to the LORD, just as Jehoiakim had done.

20 Indeed, Jerusalem and Judah were a cause of anger for the LORD, so that He cast them out of His presence. Zedekiah rebelled against the king of Babylon.

 

1 Zedekiah was twenty-one years old when he became king, and he reigned in Jerusalem for eleven years. His mother’s name was Hamutal, daughter of Jeremiah of Libnah.

2 He did what was displeasing to the LORD, just as Jehoiakim had done.

3 Indeed, Jerusalem and Judah were a cause of anger for the LORD, so that He cast them out of His presence. Zedekiah rebelled against the king of Babylon.

 

1 It being Sedekias’ twenty–first year when he began to reign—and he reigned eleven years in Ierousalem, and his mother’s name was Hamital daughter of Ieremias from Lobena.

 

 

 

 

 

It appears that the material in Jeremiah 52 was taken from Kings because it is almost identical, so similar in fact that it seems that the writer of Jeremiah either had a copy of Kings in front of him, or he copied from another source from which the writer(s) of Kings took the same material. Two people don’t tell the same story using the same words, in the same order, unless one is copying the other, they have collaborated, or they are using the same source. But now take a look at the ancient Greek translation of Jeremiah (known as the Septuagint). The first verse is much the same, with the names being modified in a way which is typical of a translation from one language to another, but then the next two verses are completely missing.

There are a few possible reasons for this. It’s possible that the translator decided to leave these verses out, but why he would do this is puzzling. There is no clear reason why a translator would delete these verses. Most scholars are of the view that the shorter Greek version is, in fact, a translation of a shorter Hebrew version of Kings, and that nothing was removed in translation. This means that the verses in our Hebrew version were either added some time after the translation was made into Greek (unlikely, as it would make this revision quite late) or, more likely, that by the time Jeremiah was translated into Greek, there were two Hebrew versions of Jeremiah circulating. The Greek translator used a version which was subsequently lost (a version without the additional verses), while the Masoretic Text preserved the other ‘longer’ version. This is the most likely explanation, and it is supported by the fact that there are actually quite a lot of differences between the Greek and Hebrew versions of Jeremiah. There is some further evidence in the Dead Sea Scrolls that the Hebrew version from which the Septuagint was taken was still in circulation at the time these scrolls were put in caves near Qumran.

It’s interesting that this additional material in the Hebrew version of Jeremiah contains the formulaic evaluation that King Zedekiah “did what was displeasing to the LORD.” While this evaluation of Zedekiah might suit its context, there are a number of times in Kings when the good deeds of good kings are recorded and then followed by the same words – “he did what was displeasing to the LORD” – making little sense in their context. However, it might make perfect sense to an editor who was working during or after the exile, and who was trying to make sense of why Israel and Judah were destroyed as kingdoms, to blame the kings – all the kings – especially if this editor was opposed to the institution of monarchy. Such an editor might feel compelled to add the words “he did what was displeasing to the LORD” several times throughout Kings, and then he or a colleague also added them to the corresponding place in Jeremiah 52 [2]. But by this time the ‘other’ version of Jeremiah was also circulating and so we ended up having two. The earlier Hebrew version(s) of Kings, however, is now lost (except for a few fragments found amongst the Dead Sea Scrolls at Qumran) although evidence of its one-time existence is still there in the Septuagint.

_________________________

[1] Translation of the Septuagint is from Albert Pietersma and Marc Saunders, “Ieremias,” in A New English Translation of the Septuagint and the Other Greek Translations Traditionally Included Under that Title (eds. Albert Pietersma and Benjamin G. Wright; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007).

[2] There are many similarities between Jeremiah and what scholars call the ‘Deuteronomistic literature’ (the books of Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Samuel and Kings), so many in fact that Jeremiah is also regarded as Deuteronomistic. Some scholars think it may have even been the writer of the book of Jeremiah (not Jeremiah himself), or his students/followers, who did the final editing of Kings and made some additions, including the one we’re looking at.

The Bible in conversation with itself

SCRIBEIn my previous post I referred to a ‘conversation’ that took place in the Bible over a long period, possibly centuries; a process of questioning earlier ideas, reformulating them, while abandoning some as inadequate or unsatisfactory. There is considerable evidence within the Bible of this ongoing dialogue, as ideas are challenged, modified and developed. Scholars often refer to a process of ‘redaction’ taking place within an individual text or ‘book’ in the Bible as later editors add to earlier material, sometimes editing the existing material to bring it into line with the new information. We also see evidence of dialogue between the writers of the Bible as later texts/books build on ideas in earlier writings, or challenge them (as I noted in my previous post in the rejection by some writers of the ‘Deuteronomistic’ ideas about rewards and punishments).

Let’s look at a couple examples of this. For a long time scholars have recognised a remarkable similarity between three of the four Gospels in the New Testament. Matthew, Mark and Luke are so similar they are called the ‘synoptic’ Gospels because they tell the same stories, often in the same order, and frequently even use identical wording to tell the story. This has led to a number of theories to explain the similarities, the most popular and most likely being that Mark was written first and that Matthew and Luke used it as one of their sources. As a result, large sections of Mark were copied verbatim by Matthew and Luke and included in their accounts of Jesus’ life, almost unchanged. Some scholars theorise that Luke also had a copy of Matthew’s Gospel in front of him when he wrote his own account, which accounts for similar stories in Matthew and Luke which are absent from Mark (another theory, known as the ‘two source theory’, is that Matthew and Luke used a second source in addition to Mark, but this source – generally called ‘Q’ from the German quelle=source – has been lost). The striking thing about this is that Luke acknowledged in his introduction that he used other sources, and without naming them it is almost certain one of his sources was Mark and another was possibly Matthew, but he regarded them as inferior to his own account.

“Since many have undertaken to set down an orderly account of the events that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed on to us by those who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and servants of the word, I too decided, after investigating everything carefully from the very first, to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may know the truth concerning the things about which you have been instructed.” (Luke 1:1-4).

What is so striking about this? Matthew says that having consulted these earlier accounts he decided to write an orderly account so that the person for whom he is writing (Theophilus) “may know the truth.” In other words, he didn’t think these earlier accounts were adequate for Theophilus to “know the truth” and by saying he decided to write an “orderly” account he implies that the earlier accounts were somewhat disorderly. So one writer of the Bible is saying that one or two earlier writers of biblical books weren’t quite up to standard and he had to improve on their work.

We see a similar process at work in the Hebrew Bible (Old Testament) in the similar accounts of the Kings of Israel and Judah in the Book of Kings and the Book of Chonicles. In some places Chronicles is so similar to Kings we can be confident that the writer of Chronicles copied large portions of Kings and incorporated them into his new work. But, like Luke copying from Mark, the writer of Chronicles felt the need to make some corrections as well as adding some new material. For example, Kings practically blames Manasseh for the Babylonian invasion and the destruction of Judah four generations later. Manasseh was so thoroughly wicked that even though his successor (Josiah) was a model king God had to eventually punish the kingdom for the sins of Manasseh (this notion of ‘transgenerational punishment‘ was disputed in the biblical book of Ezekiel, but this is a subject for another post). Despite Josiah being regarded by the writer of Kings as the best king of Judah ever (“Before him there was no king like him, who turned to the LORD with all his heart and with all his soul and with all his might, according to all the Law of Moses, nor did any like him arise after him” 2 Kings 23:25), the writer is careful to point out that his merits did not outweigh Manasseh’s evil.

Still the LORD did not turn from the burning of his great wrath, by which his anger was kindled against Judah, because of all the provocations with which Manasseh had provoked him. And the LORD said, “I will remove Judah also out of my sight, as I have removed Israel, and I will cast off this city that I have chosen, Jerusalem, and the house of which I said, My name shall be there.” (2 Kings 23:26-27).

However, when we come to Chronicles we read a different story about Manasseh.

“And when he [Manasseh] was in distress, he entreated the favor of the LORD his God and humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers. He prayed to him, and God was moved by his entreaty and heard his plea and brought him again to Jerusalem into his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew that the LORD was God” (2 Chronicles 33:12-13).

The writer of Chronicles says nothing about Judah being punished and going into exile because of Manasseh’s sins, but instead he is commended for turning to God at the end of his life. There are several other differences in perspective between Kings and Chronicles but just focussing on this one difference for now it is evident that the writers of these two biblical books had different ideas about the reason for the exile and whether or not it was a punishment for sin. Kings reflects a more ‘Deuteronomistic’ theology: if Israel and Judah were ‘punished’ by exile then it must have been because they, or someone, had sinned and it was important to identify the sinner(s). There is evidence within Kings that it went through a process of editing, and it may only have been in the final stage (or stages) of editing that this Deuteronomistic theme was added. Chronicles reflects a different, and quite possibly earlier, tradition. So even while the writer of Chronicles was copying material from his earlier edition of Kings other editors somewhere else were working on a ‘revised’ version of Kings and their revisions were based on this Deuteronomistic approach which sought to blame someone for the exile. By comparing these two books we get an insight into the ‘conversation’ that may have been taking place between the writers and/or editors of the Bible as they recorded different perspectives of the same events.

By comparing the earliest versions of the Hebrew Bible – especially the Greek translation we know as the Septuagint and the Dead Sea Scrolls – with the Hebrew text that has come down to us as the Masoretic Text (the one from which translations are made into English), it becomes evident that in the ancient world there were various, and different, versions of several books of the Bible. The differences indicate that over time the books of the Bible underwent editing and revision. They were not static – they were not transmitted exactly as they were first written – but rather they were dynamic, changing over time and being revised possibly in response to new ideas and perspectives. We should bear this in mind when we think about ‘inspiration’ and ‘biblical inerrancy’ (the idea that the Bible is free of errors), but that discussion will have to wait for another day.

 

I wasn’t going to mention Israel Folau again, but then …

Australian BushfireI’ve been busy, but it’s that time of the semester when I’ve finished teaching and marking and now have some time to get back to writing for pleasure. I thought I’d finished with Israel Folau and didn’t want to give his bad theology any more publicity, but then he opened his mouth and spurted out more rubbish so I felt I just had to respond.

If his comments about homsexuals going to hell weren’t enough, this time he has claimed that the devestating bushfires raging across Australia are God’s punishment for same-sex marriage and abortion. This time Folau has proven how little he knows about the Bible.

The question of whether or not national calamities or personal disasters should be seen as a punishment from God is dealt with fairly extensively in the Bible in a ‘conversation’ that takes place over a long period, possibly centuries. There is little doubt that many people in the ancient world attributed disasters to God or the gods, and some of the writers of the Bible held the view that if you do the right thing you will prosper but if you do the wrong thing you will suffer. This view is often called ‘Deuteronomistic’ because it’s one of the hallmarks of the biblical literature which appears to stem from the book of Deuteronomy. For example, Deuteronomy 28 promises a number of blessings for Israel “if you will only obey the LORD your God, by diligently observing all his commandments that I am commanding you today” (28:1), but “if you will not obey the LORD your God by diligently observing all his commandments and decrees, which I am commanding you today, then all these curses shall come upon you and overtake you ..” followed by a list of the sort of calamities they could expect as a nation.

Other biblical books endorse this explanation of the connection between obedience/disobedience with rewards and punishments, such as this comment in Proverbs: “For the upright will abide in the land, and the innocent will remain in it; but the wicked will be cut off from the land, and the treacherous will be rooted out of it” (2:21-22). This verse may very well have been problematic for the generation which witnessed the Assyrian and Babylonian invasions, and the deportation of a large proportion of the population into exile. Many scholars think that several books of the Bible were written or edited during the time in exile in Babylon in an effort to make sense of how God could allow his people to be dragged from their ancient homeland when so many of them were innocent. The ‘old’ ideas of rewards and punishments didn’t make a great deal of sense in the face of righteous or innocent people losing their homes, livelihoods, lives and independance as a nation. If it was only the ‘wicked’ who suffered, the punishment-for-sin explanation would stand up, but when good people suffered for no apparent reason it was right to question the Deuteronomistic ideas, or even to abandon them.

Biblical writings such as the book of Job are evidence of this process of questioning, reformulating and abandoning inadequate or unsatisfactory ideas in action. The story of Job is of a good man – even by God’s estimation he was “blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil” – who suffered the loss of his possessions, livelihood, the deaths of all his children, and then a painful and debilitating disease. Throughout all his sufferings he remained “blameless and upright.” A long dialogue between Job and his friends, and then finally between Job and God, analyses and dissects various explanations for why people suffer. Ultimately Job is judged to have been faultless and the arguments of his friends – who claimed his sufferings must have been due to some fault which required punishment or correction – were dismissed as wrong. Behind Job’s suffering yet hidden from Job and friends – but known to the reader – was a story about a wager between Job and Satan as to whether or not Job would abandon his faith in the face of suffering. All his sufferings were the result of a bet! There was no cause-and-effect, no relationship between sin and suffering, no system of rewards and punishments for good or bad behaviour. Suffering is random, even unfair. There is no explanation for why good people suffer.

Yet at least two centuries later the old Deuteronomistic ideas still lingered and show up in the New Testament where, again, they are challenged and dismissed. A story in the Gospel of John tells of Jesus and his disciples coming across a man who was blind from birth. The disciples asked Jesus “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (John 9:2). Behind their question is the notion that if someone suffered an ailment or disability this must have been because they sinned; but if this man was born blind, it raised the possibility that he was being punished for his parents’ sins, as he could hardly have sinned before he was born. The question itself highlights the absurdity of the argument that suffering is the consequence of sin, but to leave no doubt Jesus replied “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him” (v.3). Other sayings by Jesus also emphasize that there is no relationship between sin and suffering. In Luke 13:1-5, for example, Jesus referred to two instances in Jerusalem where people were killed, and said these people were no worse than anyone else and their deaths were simply random events: “Those eighteen people who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?” It’s a rhetorical question: the answer is implicitly “no”!

To use Jesus’ words, we could ask “Those people who were killed in the bushfires, or who lost their homes and possessions—do you think that they were worse offenders than anyone else?” It’s a rhetorical question: the answer is implicitly “no”! We could broaden the question and ask “The bushfires and drought which has ravaged Australia—do you think it is because Australians are worse offenders than anyone else (by legislating for same-sex marriage)?” Again, the answer is a resounding “no”! (I’ve already dealt with Folau’s misquotations of the Bible on the subject of homosexuality so won’t go into them again).

Good people have lost their lives, livelihoods or possessions in the bushfires. Communities have been devestated. For a preacher to hold up the Bible and claim their suffering is the result of a decision to approve of same-sex marriage is not only unbiblical and absurd, it is callously insensitive and totally devoid of sympathy for their losses. It is obvious to anyone with a modicum of Biblical sense that Folau is ignorant of what the Bible actually says on the subject (possibly on any subject). I wish he would just keep quiet.