Research Digest |
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| Please note that the Research Digest aims disseminate
(often in a very simplified form) recently published research articles. As
such, the views and arguments
expressed within this Digest do not necessarily represent those of this website or the
project in general.
One
of the most notable features of the Gospel of Matthew is his frequent
use of the Hebrew Scriptures. Matthew’s apparent attempt to establish
the Christian story within the Jewish milieu has meant that he is often
referred to as the most Jewish of all Gospels. However, the selection of
texts and the way they are used has been open to question throughout the
centuries. J Lionel North (New Testament Studies.
54(2). 2008. 254-274.) looks specifically at the earliest Christian
responses to some of the questions and problems posed by Matthew’s use.
In so doing, he provides an illuminating window on how the early Church
viewed its texts. For his main analysis, Lionel uses as case studies: Matthew 2:6 where Matthew makes Micah say the exact opposite of the ‘original’ text; Matthew 23:35-36 an apparent conflation of two Zechariahs; Matthew 27:9-10 what appears to be a “pastiche” of Jeremiah, perhaps drawn from Zechariah; Matthew 21:5 the addition of an ass to the triumphal entry. Lionel shows that Matthew’s early readers were well aware of the difficulties posed in these verses. He also demonstrates how they employed a range of responses. Lionel contends that although the Fathers dismissed the possibility of authorial error, they accepted the idea that a text could be corrupted through copying errors and malicious pagan interference. Responses to these ‘errors’ included; textual emendation, harmonization, approaches which reflect historical and textual criticism. Some early manuscripts suggest unease with Matthew’s use of Micah, offering a rewording of Micah or simply omitting the “no wise” in 2:6. Furthermore, the use of allegory in early Christian interpretation meant that even problematic texts could be used to show important doctrinal points; as with Jerome’s reading of Matt 21:5 in which the “tethered ass” represents “observant Judaism” and the “unbridled foal” as the gentiles.
Lionel
concludes
that the early Gospel readers were aware of the difficulties raised by
some of the evangelist's appropriation of the Jewish Scriptures and that
they adopted a variety of strategies to meet these difficulties. Whilst
generally, the early Church Fathers rejected claims of authorial error,
they did accept the possibility of (Jewish and pagan) interference and
clerical slips. Consequently, attempts to correct these 'errors', as well
as using employing interpretative techniques to create layered meanings
which could incorporate any textual problems.
---------------------
For those who have dipped their toe into waters of the pistis Christou question by looking at the coffee-break poser, you might be interested in hearing that the debate still rumbles on and is still being featured within the academic press. Its most recent outing is David Stubb’s article ‘The shape of soteriology and the pistis Christou debate’ (Scottish Journal of Theology 61 (2). 2008. 137-157). David points out that, although the question has recently been the subject of a fair amount of discussion among New Testament scholars, there has been very little attention paid to it by theologians. This is all the more remarkable, as David points out, as the phrase is so central to our understanding of Paul and soteriology (salvation). David suggests that renewed theological interest in the question might be generated following the recent publication of Douglas Harink’s book, Paul Among the Postliberals. Addressing a primarily theological audience, David first introduces the terms of the debate and what he describes as its “two primary patterns of soteriology”: 1. The “participationist eschatology” to which David links the ‘faith of Christ’ reading (subjective genitive). 2.
The
“classic Lutheran understanding of Paul” which relates to ‘faith in
Christ’ (objective genitive). David goes on to argue that the Christologically centred position creates the “most convincing interpretational matrix for reading Paul” if one also adopts a broader understanding of pistis (to denote faith and faithfulness) and to frame soteriology around the concept of ‘participation in Christ’. In conclusion, David looks at the wider implications of this debate and leaves us with this thought: “My hope is that such an understanding of Paul [as outlined in his article] can provide common ground not only among Protestant theologians, but also across the ecumenical spectrum, helping to bring unity to the scandalously fragmented church.”
--------------------- Geography
and location can play an immensely important role within Biblical
narrative texts and this is highlighted by Françoise Mirguet’s article (Journal
for the Study of the Old Testament
32
(3). 2008. 311-330.) which re-examines the rather complicated account
of the rebellion of Korah, Dathan and Abiram in Numbers 16. Françoise
notes that this story is one of the “more puzzling episodes” in the
Book of Numbers, particularly in relation to the rebels’ claims
(holiness of The
complexity of the story is due, in part, to its multiple telling, with the
account, which we now have, being the product of a number of hands.
Although Françoise summarises the various academic arguments surrounding
the revisions and rewriting of this story, he concentrates primarily on
the account that is now found in our Bibles.
The
first location, the place of confrontation, is ‘the entrance of the tent
of meeting’ (v.18b). François reminds us that this is the centre of The
next spatial indicator identified by Françoise relates to (the
instruction to) movement: “separate yourselves from the centre of the
assembly” (v.19b). The order ‘to separate’ carries the association
of separating the clean from the unclean. This reflects, socially, the
boundaries imposed by tabernacle as well as emphasising that Moses and
Aaron have to be ‘set apart’ by YHWH to re-establish social and
religious order. Françoise further argues that to be separated from the
centre conveys the message that the tabernacle had become profane through
this act of rebellion. The former ‘emptiness’ (symbolising
the alterity of YHWH) of the tabernacle that is at the centre of the
community actually protects the nation from “idolatrous and
authoritarian power” and it is this space which the rebels, themselves,
have desecrated by their attempt to occupy it. The underlying meaning is that YHWH is re-emphasising that only Moses and
Aaron are chosen to be set apart (countering Korah’s claims) and that
people not chosen by YHWH cannot occupy the centre (cultic, political and
religious) centre of Israel. By so doing, François notes, “[t]he
assembly has lost its centre—YHWH’s Dwelling—and, with it, its own
distinctiveness, which is the condition of its very existence.” The
rather complex and difficult nature of the text in v.24 emphasise that
rather than the tabernacle, the dwelling (singular) of the rebels had
become the ‘centre’ of the nation. And so, YHWH commands a restoration
of the established order. This is then followed by a spatial marker which
describes the movement from the ‘tabernacle’ to the ‘tents’
(vv.25-26). Once again, the language used here, relating to the verb ‘to
go’, is closely linked with the language of the Exodus from The final scene (vv.28-35), where the ground swallows the up the rebels, is full of reversal and irony. Twice they had refused to ‘go up’, now they get to ‘go down’. They had complained that they had been brought out of a 'land of milk and honey' (v.13 - a description original denoting the Promised Land) to die, now they are taken down into Sheol alive (v.33).
--------------------- It may come as a surprise to
those familiar with the Gospels that they are in fact anonymous.
Superscriptions which appear at the beginning of the text and contain the
author’s name are secondary textual additions which were incorporated by
a later tradition. This is in marked contrast to other New Testament texts
(letters, apocalypse) which clearly state their (purported) authors.
Moreover, such an omission from these narrative accounts (including Acts)
appears to break with the convention of other histories produced at this
time which almost always (with some exceptions relating to particular
genre) published the name of their author. In his recent article in Novum
Testamentum. 50 (2). 2008 120-142., Armin Baum notes that although
most writers of Greek and Roman historiography clearly stated the author,
the historiography of the Old Testament is, without exception, anonymous.
Moreover, he draws attention to the fact that the historical books of the
Hebrew Bible tend to be named after their introductory words (Genesis),
content (Chronicles) or prominent characters (Joshua). This has the effect
of hiding, or at least back-grounding, the author. Armin points out that
this was established practice within the literary world of the Ancient
Near East (ANE) until the time of Alexander. However, even following the
Alexandrian period, Hebrew writings such as 1 Maccabees retained the
convention of anonymity. Consequently, by writing anonymously, Armin
asserts that the New Testament Gospel writers (even Luke-Acts with their
prologues) were “closer to Hebrew than to Greco-Roman historiography.”
Armin suggests that one of the reasons behind the Greco-Roman authorial practice of writing one’s name stemmed from the fame (rather than financial reward) that could be gained from producing such a literary work. He also notes that within the Greco-Roman histories the narrator is constantly on view through their use of the first person pronoun. This is contrasted by the Old Testament histories where the first person is never used and which serves to hide the narrator’s voice and presence. Furthermore, Armin argues that it is possible to detect a particular attitude with the way the text is handled and presented. He suggests that the Old Testament narrators saw themselves as those who passed on the continuing tradition of the oral and written texts. In other words, they viewed themselves not as reporters of historical events, but as those who part of a long tradition in passing those accounts on. In so doing, the narrators were ensuring that “absolute priority” was given to the subject matter, not their literary styles or skill. It was this attitude, Armin contends, that prompted the New Testament Gospel writers to follow the Hebrew (and ANE) convention of anonymity, rather than emulate the Greco-Roman literary style and attitude, in order to give pre-eminence to their subject matter.
--------------------- The
use and role of sacred texts can tell us a lot about the religious
attitudes of a particular community. The introduction of a new translation of Scripture is
often resisted by some quarters of the religious community and must overcome a number of questions relating
to its accuracy and authority. Even today, the depth of feeling can be
measured by the media and Church interest generated by the publication of
a new or revised translation of the Bible. When the Septuagint (LXX), the
Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, was being produced (from
between 300 and 200 BCE) it also faced questions concerning its veracity.
In the Journal for the Study of the
Pseudepigrapha 17 (2). 2008. 141-160, Dries De Crum argues that the second century BCE Letter of Aristeas was
an attempt to confirm the authority of this translation. Examining
the main figures in Aristeas’ narrative, Dries argues that two distinct
“structures of authority” emerge: One is Greek and the other Jewish.
These two structures are very different. The Greek tends to be centred on
text and both perspectives needed to be addressed in validating the status
of the text. On the one hand the letter points to the Greek appeal to
authority, text-based, the authority of which is guaranteed by skills in
translation and textual criticism which is instigated by Demetrius under
the patronage of Ptolemy, and on the other hand, a community-centred
Jewish authority mediated through interpretation, instigated by Aristeas
with the Pharaoh as benefactor. Central to both structures was the piety
of those involved in the process. In this way the Letter of Aristeas
manages to establish the authority of the LXX in both Jewish and Greek
arenas.
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