The Historical Books: Interpreting Biblical Texts Series

PART ONE

ISSUES

IN

READING

THE

HISTORICAL

BOOKS

CHAPTER 1

WHAT ARE WE

READING?

WHAT ARE THE HISTORICAL BOOKS?

The classification historical books was used by the church fathers (for example, Cyril of Jerusalem, d. 386) to refer to Genesis through Esther. However, in common scholarly usage this designation usually encompasses Joshua, Judges, Samuel, Kings, Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah.¹ Ruth and Esther (along with apocryphal books like Judith or 1 and 2 Maccabees) are also arguably historical books, but are not covered in this volume. The historical books fall naturally into two divisions, based on their place in the history of the canon, their time of origin, and their thematic interests.

The earlier of these two historical complexes consists of the books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. Jewish tradition groups these books together to make up a portion of the canon called the Former Prophets.² Taken together, these books tell the story of Israel’s history in the land. This story begins with the invasion of Canaan (the first chapters of Joshua) and ends with the exile of the people of Judah from their land (the last chapters of 2 Kings). Scholars usually call this lengthy piece of history writing the Deuteronomistic History (abbreviated DH) because of its close conceptual connections to Deuteronomy (see chapter 4). DH presents Israel’s story in relation to the question of obedience or disobedience to the book of the law, that is, the book of Deuteronomy. This law book is mentioned for the first time in Joshua 1:8 and for the last time in 2 Kings 23:24-25. The Deuteronomistic History looks backward in time, seeking to explain the successes and failures of the nation in terms of its observance or violation of God’s law.

The second large historical complex consists of the books of Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah.³ In the Hebrew Bible, these books appear at the end of the third division of the canon called the Writings. In defiance of their chronological order, Ezra-Nehemiah usually comes before Chronicles in Jewish canonical tradition. However in some Hebrew manuscripts, including the very early Aleppo Codex (tenth century CE), Chronicles opens the Writings section and Ezra-Nehemiah closes it. In the Christian canonical tradition, derived from the Greek Old Testament, these books follow Kings. The Christian arrangement thus follows the principle of chronological order.

The present form of Chronicles is linked to Ezra and Nehemiah as a continuous story by the overlap of 2 Chronicles 36:22-23 and Ezra 1:1-3. However, scholars continue to debate whether this second historical complex ever made up a single unified work in the same sense that the Deuteronomistic History did. Those who emphasize the similarities in style and outlook between Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah sometimes designate them as the Chronistic Work or the Chronicler’s History. More recently, it has become common to point to indications that the two works developed separately as independent literary compositions. Because Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah address similar audiences and share a similar theological perspective, I have chosen to use a more neutral designation and call them the Chronistic books.

Both the Deuteronomistic History and the Chronistic books were constructed on the basis of earlier written sources. Some of these sources were literary works of a historical nature. For example, Judges 9 (Abimelech’s monarchy) and 2 Kings 9:1–10:27 (Jehu’s revolt) are small, self-contained narratives with a historical concern. Five of the clearest instances of these earlier historylike compositions are:

• An earlier book of Joshua (Joshua 2–11) that tells of a unified conquest of Canaan. It uses the fearful reaction of Israel’s enemies and the figure of Joshua to organize individual conquest stories (see chapter 5).

• The Ark Story (roughly 1 Samuel 4–6 and 2 Samuel 6) describes the itinerary and adventures of the ark of the covenant from its battlefield capture by the Philistines to its installation by David in Jerusalem (see chapter 7).

• The Rise of David (roughly 1 Samuel 16–2 Samuel 5). This is a coordinated collection of narratives about David and Saul. The interpretative notes and comments that bind these accounts together affirm that the Lord had effectively given the kingship over to David even during Saul’s lifetime (see chapter 7).

• The Throne Succession Story (approximately 2 Samuel 9–20 and 1 Kings 1–2). This is a single, unified narrative rather like a historical short story. It recounts the palace intrigues and family struggles that resulted in Solomon succeeding to the throne of his father, David (see chapter 7).

• The Nehemiah Memorial (Neh 1:1–7:5 and 12:31–13:31). This is a first-person report of Nehemiah’s efforts as a Persian appointee to regularize the situation of postexilic Jerusalem. It calls upon God to remember Nehemiah’s virtues (Neh 13:31) and seeks to provide a political justification for his activities (see chapter 10).

WHAT IS HISTORY?

History, like art or obscenity, is easier to recognize than to define.⁴ An elementary school definition might be something like the past as it actually happened. The classic statement of this positivistic view of the historian’s task is that of Leopold von Ranke (d. 1886), who asserted that history seeks to discover how it really was (wie es eigentlich gewesen). However, most adults soon learn that history as it is actually taught and written is a much more complicated phenomenon. For one thing, the past is only selectively known and only selectively interpreted. Not all past events are available to the historian. Most happenings are not recorded or remembered, and most records disappear. Usually only the affairs of the rich and powerful or certain urgent and critical events that influence a whole society ever enter the historical record. Thus from its very beginning in the ancient world, history’s story has typically been about kings and wars. The huge mass of details concerning the daily lives of ordinary people does not become part of what is investigated as history.

It is also obvious that historians cannot recover or set forth past events in anything like an objective way. Both the sources themselves and the historians who interpret them reflect political and cultural biases. Present-day historians try to recognize the biases of historical sources and correct for them. Modern historians also usually attempt to recognize and tame their own prejudices. Yet, the unconscious prejudices of time, geography, class, and culture are still inevitably at work, even today.⁵ In contrast, those who wrote history before the Renaissance rarely took a critical stance over against their sources or ever seem to have been conscious of their own biases. Lorenzo Valla’s debunking of the authenticity of the so-called Donation of Constantine (1440) is often cited as the watershed case leading to the critical use of sources by historians. Medieval historians were dominated by religious ideology. Since the Renaissance, however, secular explanations for historical developments have increasingly replaced religious ones, and a historian’s prejudices have tended to have more to do with nationalism or political philosophy.

The contributions of other disciplines, notably archaeology, anthropology, and economics, have revolutionized modern history. However, history remains fundamentally the product of a disciplined concern with written records. This means that trying to produce a history of a preliterate people inevitably leads to an impoverished product. Perhaps one may say something about large-scale trends and structures based on the evidence of archaeology and the insights of cultural anthropology. However, without the raw material of recorded events, names, and places, there can be no narrative, no story. Therefore, even if one may come to know a good deal about periods before the existence of written records, such times and peoples inevitably remain prehistoric. Without a narrative of events, there can be no genuine history.

Finally, the historical enterprise requires an understanding of time and a sense of chronology that goes beyond the repeated cycle of agricultural seasons or an endlessly repetitive religious calendar. An urge to keep track of linear chronology probably developed only with the emergence of centralized state governments in the ancient world. In order to rule effectively, bureaucrats and administrators had to count passing years and record successive reigns. It is for this reason that the earliest historical accounts are the king lists, annalistic inscriptions, and chronicles that arose from the royal governments of ancient Mesopotamia and Egypt.

WHAT IS HISTORIOGRAPHY?

Historiography, like its cousin biography, is primarily a type of literature. In Western culture, at least, the classic examples of historiography as a literary form are the works of the Greek historians Herodotus and Thucydides. The word history comes from the Greek verb historein, to narrate what has been learned by inquiry. By a happy linguistic accident, this verb is also related to the noun histor, one learned in the law and thus a judge. These Greek words designate the two chief concerns of historiography, to narrate the past and to make judgments about it. In other words, historiography or history writing is more than just a bare catalog of past events. It is a matter of interpretation.

By its very nature historiography is an ideological and interpretative enterprise. Historians write because they have convictions about the past and present and want to communicate their beliefs. For this reason, historiography makes value judgments about events and people. Were they helpful, beneficial, moral, and noble? Or harmful, destructive, wicked, and dishonorable?

The first level of interpretation in historiography is selection. Which events and people are worth the reader’s notice? Which incidents made a difference in the course of events? Which may be ignored as inconsequential? For example, the historian who wrote the book of Kings failed entirely to mention the battle of Qarqar (853 BCE), certainly one of the most important events in the career of King Ahab of Israel. Moreover, this same writer chose to portray Ahab’s father, Omri, in a mere eight verses (1 Kgs 16:21-28), even though modern historians credit him with being one of Israel’s most important rulers. The author of Chronicles goes even further and effectively eliminates Omri, mentioning his name only once in passing. As historiographers, these biblical writers used their own interpretative criteria for making judgments about what to select as important.

A second level of historical interpretation is organization. The tale of the past is not simply told willy-nilly. Historiography characteristically imposes some sort of structure on the past and provides links between events. The writer of history seeks to establish patterns in the incidents reported and provide a unified interpretative outlook. Authors of historiography can achieve these goals by following a chronological scheme (as in the case of Kings or Ezra-Nehemiah) or by centering on certain themes (as in Joshua or Chronicles). Historiographers can also accomplish narrative organization by tracing repeated or typical patterns. Thus, the heroes of the book of Judges are presented in a cyclical scheme easily discernible in Judges 3:7-11. After apostasy on the part of Israel, the Lord gives them over to oppression by enemy kings and peoples. When they repent and call on the Lord for help, a judge emerges as a national savior.

Another example of historiographic organization can be found in the presentation of David’s rise to royal power (1 Sam 16:14–2 Sam 5:12). Here the unifying principle of organization is Saul’s decline in contrast to David’s advance to royal power. The LORD was with him [David] but had departed from Saul (1 Sam 18:12). If one wished to illustrate this narrative pattern on a graph, Saul’s career would be represented by a line that falls over time, while a second line for David rises. Each individual narrative serves as a building block to construct this overarching theme. Yet another example of an extended organizing pattern is the repeated phrase after the death of (Josh 1:1; Judg 1:1; 2 Sam 1:1; 2 Kgs 1:1), which unifies the present shape of the Former Prophets.

The organizing structures of ancient history writing are sometimes subtle, even elusive. Events may simply be laid out one after the other without any discernible arrangement. There may be no suggestion that certain episodes are any more critical or more important than others are. There may be no interpretative summaries or organizing conclusions. This compositional style, called parataxis, was characteristic of the ancient Greek historian Herodotus. The practice of parataxis explains why biblical books sometimes seem to end abruptly on what modern readers judge to be a lame note (for example, 2 Kgs 25:27-30 or Jonah 4:11). Sometimes the use of parataxis invites the reader to discover meaningful analogies between events. In Kings, for example, analogies exist between several pairs of narratives. Examples are 1 Kings 3:16-28 and 2 Kings 6:26-31 (two mothers disputing about their children), 1 Kings 10:1-13 and 2 Kings 20:12-19 (wisdom and folly with visitors), and 2 Kings 9:30-37 and 11:13-16 (a wicked queen is killed).

A third level of interpretation typical of historiography is the drive to establish patterns of causation. What circumstances and causes brought about the events described? What later events and states of affairs did they produce in turn? Theories of historical causation have changed over the centuries. In the Romantic nineteenth century, the characters and talents of great individuals (such as Luther, Genghis Khan, or Napoleon) were understood as shaping history in a decisive way. A frequently quoted line from Thomas Carlyle expresses this perspective: The history of the world is but the biography of great men.

Geography, climate, technology, and sociological factors play a central role in modern discussions of historical causation. Some historians have proposed organic models in which societies compete with one another and adapt to meet new challenges.⁶ The notion that history is in some sense directed by a future goal toward which it is moving can be found in the writings of both Hegel and Marx. For Hegel this goal was being achieved by the workings of an idealistically conceived universal reason. For Marx, history’s inevitable goal was a classless society characterized by rational economic cooperation. Many current historians join Marx in considering economics and class struggle as history’s chief causative factors.

In the ancient and medieval worlds, those who wrote history often cited supernatural or divine forces as causative explanations for events. Thus, Assyrian and Egyptian kings invoked the gods to explain their successes. In an inscription from the ninth century BCE, the king of Moab publicly credited his success in recapturing territory from Israel to his national god Chemosh: He saved me from all the kings and caused me to triumph over all my enemies. The king also blamed earlier national reverses on the anger of Chemosh.⁷ The system of historical causation found in this inscription is remarkably similar to that of the book of Joshua. For classical Greek and Roman authors, history’s system of causation was primarily moral. Herodotus attributed the causes of the Persian War in part to divine retribution for unjust acts and human pride.

Supernatural causation faded in the later classical historians, but returned with a vengeance in early and medieval Christian historiography. For Eusebius (about 325), the political triumph of Christianity was the result of God’s intervention (Ecclesiastical History, especially Book X). Divine causation remained a gradually declining feature of historiography from the Venerable Bede (Ecclesiastical History of the English People, 731) to Cotton Mather (Ecclesiastical History of New England, 1702). The rise of humanism diminished the tendency to find a role for God in history, and the Enlightenment effectively eradicated it. When the Rationalist Edward Gibbon produced The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (1776–88), he was able to describe the rise of Christianity in a fully objective manner, treating religion as one would any other social institution. In sharp contrast, biblical historiography follows the ancient practice of discovering the true causes of earthly events in the passions and purposes of the God of Israel.

THE READER AND HISTORIOGRAPHY

Philosophers of history have advanced various definitions for historiography. One factor common to most of them is the recognition that historiography explores the past in order to influence the present. Two perceptive definitions of historiography make this point:

• An extensive, continuous, written composition based upon various materials, some originally traditional and oral, others written, and devoted to a particular subject or historical period. . . . Writers of history intended to document, reflect on, and organize the past in order to understand, legitimate, or define in some way the institutional and social reality of their own time.⁸

• History is the intellectual form in which a civilization renders account to itself of its past.⁹

The writer of history is as much concerned with the contemporary audience as with past events. The Greek historian Thucydides wrote to furnish his readers with an understanding of the causes of war, not only of the recent war between Athens and Sparta, but also of similar conflicts that would inevitably occur in the future. The first-century Jewish historian Josephus (The Jewish War) sought to honor his imperial sponsors and safeguard his own reputation. In short, history writing is an enterprise with a contemporary purpose.

Consequently, historiography is not the same thing as objective, detached reporting. It is a type of literature, and as such, it has a literary intent. The writer of history seeks to make the past alive for the reader by telling a story. Historiography as narrative creates a world of meaning for its readers and invites them to share in this world. It recounts past events systematically, tracing cause and effect. However, it does not do this entirely out of some antiquarian or scientific interest. Instead, historiography intends to elucidate the meaning or significance of past events for an audience presupposed by its author. To put it another way, historiography seeks to explain something about the present on the basis of the past. Sometimes it seeks to provide a means for explaining and legitimating change—that is, how and why today differs from the past. Often it intends to define and strengthen the national, ethnic, or religious identity of its readers.

To interpret the historical books of the Old Testament, the reader must first seek to understand their relationship to the past as reflected in the oral and written sources they used. The employment of sources of some sort demonstrates that a writer intends to be writing history rather than some other kind of literature. Unlike the writer of fiction, the writer of history does not simply make it all up. The broad outline of what was thought to be the story of Israel’s past was commonly known and publicly recited. Because ancient Israelite readers already knew much of their own story, the writers of biblical history were compelled to tell that story in a way that would be accepted. Moreover, the historian’s oral and written sources would have been at least potentially available to contemporary