February 2, 2015

Here is my second post on my reaction to the RNS interview with Paul Copan and Matthew Flannagan about their recent book Did God Really Command Genocide?: Coming to Terms with the Justice of God. (The first post is here. I may add a third and final post later this week.)

Based on some comments to my first post, one of which by one of the authors (Flannagan), I want to be clear that I am responding to the interview. I assume the authors are saying what they mean, but I also understand only too well that books nuance things differently that interviews can. I am very conscious of not wanting to misrepresent their arguments. I hope how I word things below will make that even clearer, and if there are points where a fuller reading of the book would correct or nuance my impressions formed by the interview, by all means, in the interest of truth, let others say so.

In the previous post I looked at how the Israelite evaluation of the Canaanites’ wickedness is hyperbolic and propagandistic. Here I want to touch on a related point that Copan and Flannagan also address in the interview: complete annihilation is also hyperbolic and part of ancient propagandistic rhetoric.

Other peoples engaged in similar rhetoric, and the go-to example is the Mesha Inscription, a.k.a. Moabite Stone, which speaks similarly of the Moabite “extermination” of the Israelites in the 9th century, even using the same word we find in the Old Testament, Hebrew cherem, often translated “ban.”

Israel was not alone in describing military victory as utter and complete annihilation with the vanquished never to be heard from again, wiped off the earth, etc. Of course, the Moabite report of Israel’s demise was highly exaggerated–as was the Israelite report of the Canaanites. (One big difference, however, is that the Mesha inscription was a monument commemorating King Mesha’s deeds and thus likely commissioned my him, i.e., fairly near the time of the events. The Bible does not give us any Israelite king’s self-description in “real time,” but the evaluation of the past by later storytellers.)

Losing a battle or achieving only partial victory would be blamed on some offense toward the nation’s high god and only appeasing that god will turn the military tide. This too is mentioned in the Mesha Inscription, as it is in Judges 6-7, where the failure to capture Ai is attributed to Achan’s sin and victory over Ai only comes when Achan and his family are annihilated (i.e., treated the Canaanites).

The Israelite writers were engaged in propaganda as much as others.

As I argue (along with biblical scholars in general) in The Bible Tells Me So, the hyperbolic nature of Israel’s accounts combined with the extremely unfavorable archaeological evidence for a conquest of any sort suggests that “the conquest” didn’t happen. The biblical accounts reflect later storytelling of perhaps ancient battles and tribal tensions (which may or may not have involved early Israelites.)

What I sense, though, from the interview is that the moral offense of Canaanite annihilation can be turned down a bit because the accounts are simply exaggerations of what happened: Israel conquered Canaan through military invasion and subjugation, but not total, mass, extermination.

In other words, since it’s not technically genocide, it’s not so bad. Not everyone was killed.

Which brings me back to a recurring theme in my own thinking: “it’s not so bad” doesn’t change all that much. In the Bible, God still orders mass killing (which in Deuteronomy 20 “mass” includes everything that breaths, including women, children, and animals; and not to mention enslaving women and children as spoils of war).

A less-than-total annihilation of the Canaanites to take over their land still presents moral challenges for readers of the Old Testament. Further, warring continues (Judges 1-2), and according to Judges 3:1-2, it was the Lord’s doing to intentionally leave some Canaanites in the land so that subsequent generations of Israelites could get some experience in war.

It seems that line of argument the authors take is driven by a non-negotiable assumption: that a “Canaanite conquest” is basically historical–it happened, only on a lesser scale. This is where I think I am most eager to be corrected if wrong about the authors.

But if that is their point, for their argument to be convincing, the broader sweep of biblical scholarship (i.e., outside of evangelical defenses of historicity) would need to be addressed, where the entire question of Israel’s origins (conquest of Canaan being only one part of that) has been entirely reframed through archaeological investigations and literary analysis of the Old Testament.

Although such an explanation might not sit well with everyone (and I get why), it would completely reframe the matter: the stories of the conquest of Canaan and the extermination of the Canaanites would reflect Israel’s understanding and interpretation of the significance of these (for the writers) ancient events, which in a tribal context they would understandably attribute to God’s command.

I can’t tell from the interview whether Copan and Flannagan argue or hint in this direction–though, my sense is they would not go this far, since doing so would take them outside of mainstream Evangelical theological boundaries. I would need to read the book, though, to see if reasons other than dogmatic requirements are driving their thinking on this important matter.

 

January 26, 2015

Copan:FlannaganEarlier this month, Jonathan Merritt over at RNS interviewed Paul Copan and Matthew Flannagan about their recent book Did God Really Command Genocide?: Coming to Terms with the Justice of God. Copan is Professor and Pledger Family Chair of Philosophy and Ethics at Palm Beach Atlantic University, and Flannagan is a philosopher with proficiency in contemporary analytic philosophy based in New Zealand.

The book was released last November. I own it but have not yet read it. Based on the interview, though, I wanted to make several brief comments, from the point of view of an Old Testament scholar who understands their theological concerns but who thinks their handling of the issue leaves some important matters unaddressed.

First, I am very glad to see the authors make a point that needs to be made over and over again, namely describing the biblical accounts of the Canaanite extermination as “hagiographic hyperbole” (a term borrowed from another philosopher, Nicolas Wolterstorff).

“The basic idea is that the accounts of Israel’s early battles in Canaan are narrated in a particular style, which is not intended to be literal in all of its details and contains a lot of hyperbole, formulaic language and literary expressions for rhetorical effect. We argue in our book that the evidence both from within the Bible and from other ancient Near Eastern conquest accounts supports this conclusion.”

This observation, at least in its general outline, is not really disputed among biblical scholars, but is well worth bringing out for a conservative readership.

Both internal literary patterns as well as external parallel evidence indicate quite clearly that we should not expect literal historical accounts from the biblical writers–at least when they recount their military exploits.

Elsewhere in the interview, however, the authors’ line of argument seems to fall into well-known apologetic patterns that I feel are problematic and even undercut their own claim about ancient literary conventions.

Generally speaking, the authors falter on the following 2 points that are working knowledge for Old Testament scholars, and a proper accounting of which would neutralize their arguments–at least as presented in this interview–namely:

  1. A failure to account for the propagandistic nature of the biblical accounts.
  2. A failure to account for the composite nature of the biblical stories and their time of authorship.

On the first point, the authors claim that the command to exterminate the Canaanites was justified on the basis of their extremely wicked behavior. This is a common inerrantist justification, but it remains utterly unconvincing.

It is widely known that the Canaanites were not any worse in the ancient world than others, and that the biblical description of the Canaanites, beginning already with the curse of Canaan because of Ham’s sin in the Flood narrative), is an exaggeration for the purpose of painting their enemies in a negative light–let’s call it “hamartiographic hyperbole” (hamartia = sin). In modern language, propaganda–which the authors euphemistically refer to as “literary expressions for rhetorical effect.”

To suggest that the Israelites were “accurately” describing the Canaanites is a bit of a stretch by any canons of ancient historiography, which the authors claim to be following.

If it is true, as the authors say, that “In the Bible, God appropriates the writing of a human being with the writer’s own personality, character, and writing style,” that would extend to how one’s enemies are portrayed.

In other words, one cannot appeal selectively like this to the literary conventions of ancient authors.

Also, even taking the biblical description of the Canaanites as objectively accurate, this hardly puts the Canaanites on the “worst sinners ever” list. Child sacrifice and ritual prostitution, for example, were certainly practiced outside of Canaan.

On the former, the Bible itself (2 Kings 3:4-27) references King Mesha of Moab, who offered his son on the walls of Kir-hareseth as a burnt-offering to his god (presumably Kemosh) to defend againstTBTMS the combined forces of Israel, Judah, and Edom. (And the kick in the pants is that it worked: “…great wrath came upon Israel, so they withdrew from him and returned to their land” v. 27).

My point here is that the wickedness of the Canaanites is not on some absolute/objective scale vis-a-vis ancient Near Eastern practices, but part and parcel of ancient Near Eastern literary/historiographical conventions.

It can’t be used to “explain” why God simply had to exterminate the Canaanites as a matter of moral outrage. The issue is purity of the land.  As I put it in The Bible Tells Me So,

However immoral the Canaanites were, the real problem isn’t what they did, but where they did it.

They were contaminating the land that God set aside for the Israelites since the days of Abraham and so had to be exterminated. Take any other people group and put them in the land of Canaan, and they would be the ones tasting Israelite steel, and their immorality would be described as the worst ever. Take the Canaanites and put them somewhere else, and we’d never hear about them.

The Canaanites’ main sin was their street address. That is why they had to be eliminated. (p. 51)

Later this week–earlier of we get the foot of snow predicted–I’d like to make a few comments on the 2nd point mentioned above which will address several other problematic claims by Copan and Flannagan.

October 18, 2013

In past posts (here, then followed up here, herehere, and here) I’ve talked quite a bit about the little problem we have in the Old Testament: God orders the armies of Joshua to kill every single Canaanite so the Israelites can live in their land. Deuteronomy 20 lays this out, and the deed is done in Joshua 7-12.

Most Christians are at least a little bothered by this, and various solutions are regularly put forward to reconcile a good and loving God with the idea of God as a killing machine in the OT—such as:

  • the Canaanites were very wicked and deserved it;
  • killing Canaanites is the good and loving thing to do for all concerned;
  • it wasn’t really that bad;
  • God doesn’t always kill foreigners;
  • don’t worry, God sometimes kills Israelites, too;
  • this is all part of God’s mysterious ways and we shouldn’t question it.

I go through these sorts of explanations in the links above.

My own approach is simply to acknowledge that the Israelites were an ancient tribal people and thought of God the way other ancient tribal peoples did–as a fierce warrior who goes to battle with his people, assured of victory if they are on good terms with the deity but suffering defeat if not. This biblical portrait of God is already critiqued to a certain extent in Israel’s own writings (e.g., the book of Jonah) and is put to rest in the gospel, where Jesus says we don’t kill people to take their land anymore.

I realize, of course, that not everyone will warm up to that approach because it appears to “not take the Bible seriously.” I would protest that I am in fact taking it quite seriously by allowing the text to speak in its historical context rather than bringing to the text my own agenda or twisting to text to ease theological discomfort.

But I digress. For those seeking a more “biblical” way out of having to accept that Israel’s God was an ancient version of Megatron, these passages, straight out of the Bible, may suggest a way forward.

Exod 23:27-31

27 I will send my terror in front of you, and will throw into confusion all the people against whom you shall come, and I will make all your enemies turn their backs to you. 28 And I will send the pestilence in front of you, which shall drive out the Hivites, the Canaanites, and the Hittites from before you. 29 I will not drive them out from before you in one year, or the land would become desolate and the wild animals would multiply against you. 30 Little by little I will drive them out from before you, until you have increased and possess the land. 31 

Lev 18:24-28

24 Do not defile yourselves in any of these ways, for by all these practices the nations I am casting out before you have defiled themselves. 25 Thus the land became defiled; and I punished it for its iniquity, and the land vomited out its inhabitants26 But you shall keep my statutes and my ordinances and commit none of these abominations, either the citizen or the alien who resides among you 27 (for the inhabitants of the land, who were before you, committed all of these abominations, and the land became defiled); 28 otherwise the land will vomit you out for defiling it, as it vomited out the nation that was before you. 

Lev 20:22-23

22 You shall keep all my statutes and all my ordinances, and observe them, so that the land to which I bring you to settle in may not vomit you out. 23 You shall not follow the practices of the nation that I am driving out before you. Because they did all these things, I abhorred them. 

You see it?

In Exodus 23, it looks like a pestilence of some sort (famine? locusts?) by God’s hand is what will drive out the Canaanites: it will throw them into confusion and so they will turn their backs on the Israelites. This process, we are told, will happen gradually. But note there is no word of annihilating the Canaanites by war.

In Leviticus, we see another side to all this. Note the use of the past tense in these passages. Even though these words from God are spoken on Mt. Sinai, i.e., before Israel entered Canaan 40 years later, the expulsion of the inhabitants of Canaan is something God did. The Canaanites are vomited out of the land already.

These passages present an alternate view on how the Canaanites were ousted from the land (expulsion, either already or in the future) than what we find on Deuteronomy and Joshua (annihilation). The Bible carries with it multiple traditions of how the Israelites came into the land. (see also Numbers 33:50-56, which speaks only of “displacing” the Canaanites, not annihilating them).

Note, too, that the gradual displacement of the Canaanites in Exodus 23 coheres somewhat with the picture given in Judges as opposed to the rapid Blitzkrieg victory tour depicted in Joshua 7-12 (e.g., Joshua 11:23, “So Joshua took the whole land, according to all that the Lord had spoken to Moses; and Joshua gave it for an inheritance to Israel according to their tribal allotments. And the land had rest from war.”).

On the one hand, this is good news if you want to think of Israel’s settlement of Canaan in biblical terms that also takes the edge of the violence. On the other hand, this is bad news if you want to follow the Bible, since the Bible explains how the Canaanites ceased living in their land in two mutually exclusive ways–i.e., the Bible does not speak with “one voice,” which I know for some is more troubling than the thought of God killing off a population.

You can’t have everything.

If you want to read more about this, see Baruch J. Schwartz, “Reexamining the Fate of the ‘Canaanites’ in the Torah Traditions (pp. 151-70, Sefer Moshe: The Moshe Weinfeld Jubilee Volume : Studies in the Bible and the Ancient Near East, Qumran, and Post-Biblical Judaism, Eisenbrauns, 2004).

April 28, 2013

In recent months, these two issues–creation and Canaanite extermination–have been among the more heat-producing that I have dealt with on this blog. Today, I want to make one simple point that concerns both of these issues, and others like it.

Nothing creative or profound. Pretty standard stuff, actually, though when push comes to shove (literally) in controversial issues, it is often the first we lose sight of.

Here it is: Ancient context matters—a lot.

So, when the debate is about whether Christianity and evolution can co-exist, the conversation often turns immediately to the very interesting canonical, theological, and philosophical factors that arise for Christianity if evolution is true and there is no first couple.

Of course, these factors are vitally important, must be brought to the table, and require our full attention. But far too often these factors are raised in happy isolation from the historical/literary factor of the ancient Near Eastern context that gave us these texts–as if the conversation can simply proceed without considering what the Adam story is doing from the point of view of an ancient mindset.

Seeing Genesis as an expression of ancient theology, asking ancient questions, and giving ancient answers, would necessarily reframe theological discussions of origins that are otherwise too commonly locked in abstractions and categories of thought that have little to no grounding in the biblical narratives themselves.

Put another way, when I see discussions of how or whether biblical Christianity and evolution can co-exist but that leave to the side how these ancient texts functioned in antiquity, I get nervous.

The same idea hold for Canaanite extermination (and here). At least as much as creation, this topic often leaps immediately to what we think God can, can’t, should, would, or must do, based on alleged immutable starting points: his character, holiness, righteousness, etc.

Again, all fine and good, but when we look at the Canaanite genocide stories within the ancient context in which they are written, speculations of God are tempered.

Once we see that Yahweh’s actions toward the Canaanites are like that of the gods of other nations toward their enemies, the discussion cannot continue as before. A vital historical contextual factor is brought into our speculative theological and philosophical musings.

We can talk about God’s actions toward the Canaanites within the parameters of the canon or carefully worded categories of dogmatics and systematic theology. But once we see that Chemosh, god of the Moabites, tells king Mesha (or better, Mesha tells us what Chemosh told him) to take Nebo from the Israelites and “put to the ban” the entire population–and that the word “ban”  corresponds precisely to the Hebrew word for the same sort of behavior–well, it puts the theological and philosophical discussion on a whole different level.

So, the question, “Why would God command the Israelites to exterminate the Canaanites?” cannot be addressed in an intramural theological back-and-forth. It must also include this little bit of historical information: Yahweh’s actions are not unique but seem part of an ancient way of thinking.

Maybe that’s the best way to sum up what I’m saying here: theological discussions about biblical interpretation must be in conversation with ancient ways of thinking.

Told you. Not very profound. But then again, I feel like I need to keep saying it.

 

July 18, 2012

I appreciate the many thoughtful responses, both pro and con, to my post on John Piper and his view on Canaanite genocide and his view that, “It’s right for God to slaughter women and children anytime he pleases.” 

I will say, however, that, although some pushback comments were very insightful and brought to the table issues of importance, a number of them were implicitly working from a false, though common, dichotomy: pitting against each other (1) engagement of Scripture informed by what we know of ancient context, and (2) any notion of biblical authority, inspiration, etc.

Such a posture is a lamentable innovation of recent generations of Fundamentalist influence on how Christians think about the Bible, prompted by some uncomfortable developments in biblical studies over the last two centuries. But in truth, the church has a long track record, going back to the 2nd century, of grappling with, let’s call it, the problem of history in the Bible, i.e., what it means for a transcendent God to speak within the humble and limiting circumstances of the human drama.

Of particular interest at the outset was how God’s actions in the Old Testament, especially his violence, can be squared with the not only the ethics of the gospel but common reason and decency. One early solution that stuck was to read these passages of violence allegorically. At the end of the day, I don’t think that solution works, but let’s not lose sight of the motivating factor:

God does things in the Old Testament that cause theological problems for Christians, and so we have to think about what to do about them.

We today are latecomers to this conversation, although some, apparently, do not seem to be aware that it is even an issue.

Jericho

What marks off recent generations is not that a renegade group of scholars and other troublemakers are now, all of a sudden, allowing “historical context” to invade our understanding of the pristine Word of God. Rather, the problem is that we have come to understand much more of that ancient context than ever before. The fact that many Protestant communities are deeply committed to Scripture as a clear word from God, which, therefore, can safely be understood without engaging the messiness of  history, creates an antagonistic attitude toward those who are perceived as sacrificing Scripture on the altar of (unbelieving) scholarship.

With all this in mind, those demonizing the thought of bringing historical scholarship to bear on the issue of  Canaanite genocide labor under the false assumption that to do so is to reject, dismiss, or undermine the Bible; to “pick and choose” willy-nilly what we like and what we don’t like.

portion of Gilgamesh epic

Not at all. Engaging Scripture’s ancient context, especially in our day, is part of a subtle and challenging process of trying to understand how to understand the Bible as a product of antiquity, and then to think through how that understanding is to be brought to bear on current faith and practice.

If anyone thinks that in doing so there is a plot afoot, some sinister revolution or insidious innovation to the study of Scripture by a huddled band of scholars determined to undermine the gospel, I can only suggest that a study of the history of Christian interpretation (that predates 19th century Fundamentalism) will relieve you of this misunderstanding.

Some of the specific issues before us today may be new, but the principle of reading Scripture in context–which is nothing less than the principle of grammatical-historical exegesis, so esteemed in conservative circles–is not.

The problem, again, is that the more we know of ancient contexts, the more uncomfortable grammatical-historical exegesis has become, and so threatens to undermine the very Evangelical theological system that relied on it so heavily. Rather than abandoning the method, however, it is wiser, I feel, to be willing to do the hard work of trusting God, going where the questions lead, and rethinking theological articulations when necessary, knowing that the survival of the Christian faith does not hang in the balance.

So, all this is preamble for returning to the issue of Canaanite genocide, which I will do briefly in my next post (which I will write as soon as the temperature in the Philly area can no longer melt lead). We will look at a few other passages that, I am convinced, will underscore the ethical problem of saying that God commanded the extermination of an entire population.


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