A Social Reading of The Old Testament

OTHER FORTRESS PRESS BOOKS
BY WALTER BRUEGGEMANN
The Land: Place as Gift, Promise, and Challenge

in the Biblical Faith (1977)
The Prophetic Imagination (1978)
The Creative Word: Canon as a Model for
Biblical Education (1982)
D avid’s Truth in Israel’s Imagination and Memory (1985)
Hopeful Imagination: Prophetic Voices in Exile (1986)
Israel’s Praise: Doxology against Idolatry and Ideology (1988)
Finally Comes the Poet: Daring Speech
for Proclamation (1989)
Interpretation and Obedience:
From Faithful Reading to Faithful Living (1991)
Old Testament Theology:
Essays on Structure, Theme, and Text (1992)
Texts under Negotiation:
The Bible and Postmodern Imagination (1993)
A Social Reading
of the Old Testament
Prophetic Approaches
to Israel’s Communal Life
Walter Brueggemann
Edited by Patrick D. Miller
FORTRESS PRESS MINNEAPOLIS

A SOCIAL READING OF THE OLD TESTAMENT
Prophetic Approaches to Israel’s Communal Life
Copyright © 1994 Augsburg Fortress. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations
in critical articles or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any m anner
without prior written permission from the publisher. Write to: Permissions, Augsburg
Fortress, 426 S. Fifth St., Box 1209, Minneapolis, MN 55440.
Scripture quotations from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible are copy
right © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the
Churches of Christ in the USA and are used by permission.
Cover design: Peggy Lauritsen Design Group
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Brueggemann, Walter.
A social reading of the Old Testament : prophetic approaches to
Israel’s communal life / Walter Brueggemann : edited by Patrick D.
Miller.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 0-8006-2734-2
1. Bible. O.T.—Criticism, interpretation, etc. I. Miller,
Patrick D. II. Title.
BS1192.B75 1994
221.6-dc20 93-34115
CIP
The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American
National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed
Library Materials, ANSI Z329.48-1984.
Manufactured in the U.SA. AF 1-2734

OH 97 96 95 94 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Contents
Abbreviations vii
In tro d u ction Patrick D. Miller 1
Part One
Guidelines and Approaches
1. Trajectories in O ld Testam ent Literature and
th e Sociology o f A ncient Israel 13
2. C ovenant as a Subversive Paradigm 43
3. C ovenant an d Social Possibility Γ>4
Part Two
A Social Reading of Particular Texts
4. Social Criticism and Social Vision
in th e D euteronom ic Form ula of the Judges 73
5. “Vine an d Fig Tree”: A Case Study
in Im agination and Criticism 91
6. At th e Mercy o f Babylon:
A Subversive R ereading o f the Em pire 111
7. A Poem o f Sum m ons (Isaiah 55:1-3) and
a Narrative o f Resistance (Daniel 1) 134
v
t'f Contents
Part Three
Λ Social Reading of Particular Issues
8. Israel’s Social Criticism an d Yahweh’s Sexuality 149
9. Theodicy in a Social D im ension 174
10. T he Social N ature of the Biblical Text for Preaching 197
11. T he P ro p h et as a Destabilizing Presence 221
12. T he Social Significance o f Solom on
as a P atron o f Wisdom 245
13. R ethinking C hurch Models through Scripture 263
14. Reflections on Biblical U nderstandings o f Property 276
15. Revelation and Violence: A Study in C ontextualization 285
Credits 319
Index of Scripture References 321
Abbreviations
AB Anchor Bible
AnBib Analecta biblica
ANQ Andover Newton Quarterly
ATANT Abhandlungen zur Theologie des Alten und Neuen Testaments
BA Biblical Archaeologist
BASOR Bulletin o f the American Schools of Oriental Research
BBB Bonner biblische Beitrage
BJS Brown Judaic Studies
BT The Bible Translator
BTB Biblical Theology Bulletin
BZAW Beihefte zur ZAW
CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly
CurTM Currents in Theology and Mission
FRLANT Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen
Testaments
HBT Horizons in Biblical Theology
HSM Harvard Semitic Monographs
H TR Harvard Theological Review
HUCA Hebrew Union College Annual
ICC International Critical Commentary
IDB Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible (G. A. Buttrick, ed.)
IDBSup Supplementary volume to IDB
vii
A Social Reading of the Old Testament
Int Interpretation
IRT Issues in Religion and Theology
JAAR Journal of the American Academy of Religion
pL Journal of Biblical Literature
JNES Journal of Near Eastern Studies
JR T Journal of Religious Thought
βΟ Τ Journal for the Study of the Old Testament
JSOTSup Journal for the Study o f the Old Testament— Supplement Series
jrs Journal of Theological Studies
LXX Septuagint
MT Masoretic Text
NRSV New Revised Standard Version
OBT Overtures to Biblical Theology
OTL Old Testament Library
ReuExp Review and Expositor
RSR Recherches <L· science religieuse
RSV Revised Standard Version
SBLDS SBL Dissertation Series
SBLMS SBL Monograph Series
SBLSP SBL Seminar Papers
SBT Studies in Biblical Theology
TBiX Theologische Biicherei
TLZ Theologische Literaturzeitung
TWAT G. J. Botterweck and H. Ringgren (eds.), Theologisches Worterbuch
zum Alten Testament
USQR Union Seminary (Quarterly Review
VT Vetus Testamentum
VTSup Vetus Testamentum, Supplements
WMANT Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testa
ment
WW Word and World
ZAW Zeitschrift fu r die alttestamentliche Wissenschafi
ZTK Zeitschrift fu r Theologie und Kirche
Introduction
Patrick D. Miller
K N O W N PRIMARILY as an Old Testam ent theologian, and

deservedly so,1 W alter B rueggem ann has brought his theological pur
suits to g eth er with a long-standing interest in social analysis in his
in terp retatio n o f biblical texts. T he two concerns— theological and
sociological—are so thoroughly linked in his thinking and writing
th at chapters in this volum e m ight well have been located in the
earlier collection on Old Testam ent theology and vice versa.
T he essays in this volum e are grouped u n d er the rubric “A Social
R eading o f the O ld Testam ent.” T he phrase “social reading” does
n o t m ean in B rueggem ann’s case simply an application of the cat
egories, m ethods, an d analyses o f sociology to biblical texts. H e is
m uch too sophisticated sociologically for that. (Unlike most O ld Tes
tam ent scholars, B rueggem ann has studied sociology academically.
In fact h e began there—it was his college major—before turning to
theology.) He is also m uch too theological to be content with o r even
interested in a sociology o f the religion of Israel or a sociological
analysis o f the origins o f early Israel— though he knows and uses the
results o f o th ers’ work in this area (see chap. 1).
T he social character o f o u r theology, m ore specifically, of o u r no
tion o f God, is underscored in these essays. This does not m ean that
God is simply a social projection, although that idea does n o t seem
1. See the collection Old Testament Theology: Essays in Structure, Theme, and Text,
ed. Patrick D. Miller (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992).
1
2 A Social Reading o f the Old Testament
to b o th er Brueggem ann very m uch. But our reading o f the presen

tation, o r “ren d erin g ”— to use a favorite term B rueggem ann borrows
from Dale Patrick—o f God in the Bible is very m uch shaped by our
social situation, and one of B rueggem ann’s aims is to shatter our pic
ture o f the biblical God by the reality o f the biblical God. This is a
crucial matter. “Everything is at stake because how we ju d g e it to be
in heaven is the way we imagine it to be on ea rth __ T here will be
no new com m unity on earth until there is a fresh articulation o f who
God is” (“C ovenant as a Subversive Paradigm ”). This notion points
to B rueggem ann’s im plicit conviction that the Bible may be the one
thing—despite its own social character (see below)— that can break
th rough and criticize our socially shaped view o f God.
It is no accident that “subversive” is a favorite word o f Bruegge
m an n ’s. (H e has a num ber o f such words. They are often helpful
clues to his concerns and intentions.) H e is com m itted to show
ing the way the Bible subverts o u r personal and social systems and
ideologies. If the Bible is ideological, it also seems to be a tool for
subverting ideologies, even those o f interpreters. In d eed the branch
o f sociology with which he seems especially to resonate is the sociol
ogy o f knowledge and its critique o f ideology. T he effort to uncover
the hidden agendas, the unidentified program s th at underlie the
m aking and reading o f Scripture, is a constant dim ension of his
biblical interpretation.
At its simplest and m ost im portant level, B rueggem ann’s social
reading is a constant awareness o f the social dim ensions o f every
aspect o f the text, its transmission, and its interpretation, that all
o f these realia take place within worlds—albeit often very different
ones—and those worlds m ust be in view to hear the text with any
hope o f authentic contact with that about which it speaks or any
hope o f connecting it with a present listening community. Vested
interests have been and rem ain at work in all aspects o f the com
m unication o f the text (and so the richly dangerous task o f the
interpreter, w hether scholar, preacher, teacher, who is a p art o f a
social nexus, shaped by it, and given a slanted view o f reality by that
nexus). M uch social reading o f the Bible is prim arily interested in
the sociology o f the world of the text. A nd many of the essays that
follow reflect th at interest, particularly as B rueggem ann tries to lay
bare the effects o f m onarchy on Israel’s life an d their reflections in
the texts. But he is m ore concerned than many for the sociology o f
the world o f th e interpreter, the world o f those who h ear and read
the text now (see chap. 12). H e does no t engage in social analysis
Introduction 3
o f contem porary society in any form al sense, bu t he has his ear to

the gro u n d — always with an intensity that is characteristic o f both his
person a n d his work. This reading o f the contem porary social world
takes place in a variety of ways, from wide contact with individuals
an d groups in one o f the heaviest speaking and lecture schedules
o f any scholar in the field, to his detailed perusal o f the New York
Times an d o th er newspapers (whose articles, editorials, and cartoons
he is always clipping, n o t only for his own files but to send to family,
friends, a n d colleagues), to a voracious reading schedule that blends
culture analysis and criticism with contem porary theology and psy
chology as well as significant fiction (he does not seem to be caught
by mystery an d detective fiction, as are a num ber o f his scholarly col
leagues), to viewing the latest movies (he is a movie addict though
too non- [if n o t anti-] technological to bother with a VCR; his col
leagues an d peers are am azed to discover that his prolific writing
is all do n e with a p en as h e refuses to bother with a com puter,
questioning implicitly an d explicitly w hether technology really en
hances scholarly productivity). All o f this talking, reading, and seeing
keeps B rueggem ann “in touch.” If that m ode of social analysis seems
im pressionistic ra th e r than precise, well and good. It is ju st those
im pressions o f this world— culled from a church m ember, A nthony
Lewis, Karl Marx, Stephen Toulm in, Karl Barth, Flannery O ’Connor,
or Baghdad Cafe— th at give him clues about the way we are and how
the Bible confronts (I use th at conflictual word advisedly) o u r way
an d ways.
This atten tio n to the world o f his text m eans that his essays are
definitely tim e-bound. They interact with the latest literature at the
time o f writing—a n d in various fields—as well as with im m ediate is
sues an d currents. Precisely because they are up-to-date at the time
of th eir original writing o r publication, there is a significant dated
ness to som e o f these essays b u t n o t an outdatedness. They do n o t
d ep en d u p o n th e latest election or political controversy at the time
o f writing; rather, they engage d eep er issues that are present in the
literature. Thus, B rueggem ann was one of the earliest scholars to
take u p th e work o f George M endenhall and N orm an Gottwald in
th eir different b u t related efforts to look at the sociology o f early
Israel. Some o f the essays th at follow, therefore, were written p rior
to the publication o f Gottwald’s m agnum opus, The Tribes of Yahweh,
b u t already attentive to the issues he was raising. O thers respond
to and draw u p o n th at work quite heavily. T here has been no at
tem pt to u p date bibliography, n o r is there any need to do so, in
m ost instances, as far as the substance o f B rueggem ann’s argum ent

is concerned.
O ne o f the features of B rueggem ann’s m ode o f thinking is to
work with dualities and tensions, an d he has responded positively
to those such as Paul Hanson, Claus W esterm ann, an d Samuel Ter-
rien who work in a similar fashion.2 T he result is a highly dialectical
way o f doing theology and o f analyzing biblical texts. In these es
says, there are two particularly pervasive dualities o r tensions. O ne
represents a conflictual tension in ancient Israel. It is found in
B rueggem ann’s discernm ent o f royal and liberation trajectories as
fundam ental to the course o f Israel’s life and thought, an analysis
worked out in the first, program m atic chapter, “Trajectories in O ld
Testam ent L iterature and the Sociology o f Ancient Israel.” These are
to be related rath er directly to the equally program m atic categories
aro u n d which h e has oriented his approach to O ld Testam ent theol
ogy, “structure legitim ation” an d “em brace o f pain.”8 B rueggem ann
also risks a connection to contem porary theological movements,
seeing process herm eneutics as a continuation o f the stabilizing,
socially conservative royal trajectory and liberation theology as a con
tinuation o f the historically specific, socially revolutionary liberation
trajectory. B rueggem ann’s own theological affinity for the libera
tion trajectory is evident in his writing, as is his suspicion o f the
structure-legitim ating royal trajectory.
T he o th er dialectic that is p rom inent in these pages is suggested
in the titles o f the first two essays and specifically in the phrases
“subversive paradigm ” and “social possibility.” T he tension in m ind
in this instance is one that can exist within a single framework,
for example, the covenant o r prophecy. W hat he points to in these
phrases and the articles in whose titles they appear has been elabo
rated in one o f his m ost widely read books, The Prophetic Imagination.
In the present volume, one may tu rn to his essays “Social Criti
cism and Social Vision in the D euteronom ic Form ula o f the Judges”
(chap. 4) an d “ ‘Vine and Fig T ree’: A Case Study in Im agination
and Criticism” (chap. 5) to see the same dialectic developed in dif
feren t contexts. W hat B rueggem ann uncovers is the way in which
both covenant and prophecy are able to function as critical tools,
2. See Brueggemann, “Futures in Old Testament Theology,” in Old Testament

Theology, 111-17.
3. See Brueggemann, “A Shape for Old Testament Theology, I: Structure Legiti
mation,” and idem, “A Shape for Old Testament Theology, II: Embrace of Pain,” in
Old Testament Theology, 1-44.
Introduction 5
un d ercu ttin g prevailing ideologies and practices while at the same

time— o r at an o th er tim e in some instances—also identifying possi
bilities n o t yet d ream ed o f for a new society directed by G od’s word,
faithful to God, an d effecting righteousness and peace in the hum an
community. T he subversive dim ension o f prophecy and covenant is
the critical tool; the new possibilities are found in an exercise of
im agination th at points to a new future. This dual function in the
p rophetic role enables B rueggem ann to hold judgm ent-prophecy
and salvation-prophecy together against the com m on tendency to
regard them as separate activities belonging to different phases of
a p rophetic career o r different times in Israel’s history.
C hapter 5, “Vine an d Fig Tree,” is a prim e exam ple o f Brueg-
g em an n ’s approach. It is textual an d exegetical,4 giving attention to
im p o rtan t literary features in the text—in this case, irony—for their
interpretative significance. H e uncovers the social criticism explicit
and im plicit in the text and effects a bold and sometimes risky ju x
taposition of seemingly unrelated texts, a herm eneutically heuristic
exam ple o f intertextuality. This particular study also dem onstrates
w hat I would call B rueggem ann’s imaginative herm eneutics, the abil
ity an d willingness to see an d envision possibilities within a text for
the way it connects with o u r world. Such connections and models,
which others may n o t discern, are often provided n o t so m uch by a
herm eneutical m eth o d as by a powerful intuition and im agination
fertilized by a detailed knowledge o f Scripture together with wide
and diverse reading. In B rueggem ann’s work, interpretation is both
disciplined exegetical work an d artistic craft. Perhaps that is what it
should be always. If so, such interpretation can be taught only so
far. T he rest is practice and, w hether we like it or not, gift. Brueg-
gem an n ’s own way o f viewing the m atter is to see the connection
between the rhetoric an d shape o f a text and the present social re
ality as n o t effected by a herm eneutical move, an “application o f the
text,” b u t by a reading o f the text where we are.
T he application o f the criticism-imagination duality to the litera
ture ab out the p erio d o f the Judges in chapter 4, “Social Criticism
and Social Vision in the D euteronom ic Form ula o f the Judges,” in
volves an effort to look at “the sociology o f the deed-consequence
teaching” as well as o f the cry-save formula. In the latter case, Brueg
gem ann takes u p one o f the m ost fundam ental them es in all of
4. On Brueggemann’s consistent focus on particular texts, see my introduction

to Old Testament T h e o lo g y .
6 A Social Reading of the Old Testament
Scripture, the cry to God o f the oppressed or suffering victim an d

G od’s delivering response.5 H e shows how this cry-save structure
breaks with the well-ordered, m anaged, and m anageable world in
which deeds have their in h eren t consequences, “the one [namely,
deed-consequence] m arked by a presum ption o f control, the o th er
[cry-save] by risking trust.”
T h e focus on covenant is n o t to b e missed in these essays. It
should be n o ted that some o f them were w ritten before the heavy
scholarly criticism o f the em phasis on covenant and, m ore particu
larly, the presum ed connection o f covenant to ancient N ear Eastern
treaties. But Brueggem ann would probably still persist—and rightly
so— in claim ing th at covenant is “a pervasive biblical n o tio n ” and n o t
confined to the presence o f the term bent, “covenant.” W hat particu
larly interests him , however, is n o t the origin o r history o f the notion
o f covenant, m uch less its N ear Eastern analogues, real o r im agined,
b u t its “im p o rtant socioeconomic, political counterparts” as well as
its theological assumptions an d implications. Somewhat surprisingly,
he does n o t see covenant as a paradigm o f power. Less surprisingly,
he does see it as having to do finally with faithfulness—hum an and
divine. A “different m ode of God” and a “different notion o f social
life and practice” are m ediated by the m etaphor o f covenant, for ex
am ple, attention to marginality. O ne o f the aims o f these essays is to
dem onstrate in large strokes an d in m ore detailed exegesis how an d
in what ways b oth “differences” are to be seen.
A particular exam ple o f this is his treatm ent o f the sexuality of
Israel’s God, which no t only relates that to the prim ary image o f
covenant b u t once m ore develops the topic in dialectical fashion,
vis-a-vis “a contrast between a promissory and a conserving notion o f
G od” (chap. 8, “Israel’s Social Criticism and Yahweh’s Sexuality”).
His discussion o f property in the Bible also places great weight on
the covenant as well as assuming the roy al/u rb an an d covenantal/
liberation trajectories presented in the first essay as the fram ework in
which the whole m atter is to be discussed. Thus, the intentional plu
ral in the title o f chapter 14, “Reflections on Biblical Understandings
of Property.” While many would in terp re t such a plural as a refer
ence to the variety o f perspectives that everyone now acknowledges
is p resen t in biblical literature, Brueggem ann regards such a plural
istic approach as too idealistic and neutral. T he plurality in which he
5. Cf. Richard N. Boyce, The Cry to God in the Old Testament, SBLDS 103 (Atlanta:
Scholars Press, 1988).
Introduction /
is interested is m ore ro o ted in the social situation and begs for some
stance an d com m itm ent from the interpreter.
T he concentration on social analysis in these essays includes also
a political dim ension. In chapter 6, “At the Mercy o f Babylon,” for
exam ple, B rueggem ann turns explicitly to the politics o f Israel and
the nations an d what they have to tell us about the politics o f Clod.
H ere also h e shows o th er philosophical influences at work in his
thinking—from J. L. Austin to Terry Eagleton to Francois Lyotard—
as he reflects on speech as a political act and texts as m ajor acts
o f power. This essay an d others (for example, chap. 7, “A Poem of
Sum m ons [Isaiah 55:1-3] an d a Narrative o f Resistance [Daniel 1],”
an d chap. 13, “R ethinking C hurch Models through Scripture”) show
a considerable in terest in the sociopolitical aspects o f texts arising
from exile. O nce again B rueggem ann’s work is on the forefront
of the field w here a renew ed focus on the exile is leading many
to find th ere the m ost formative period for biblical literature. T he
work o f Daniel Smith, The Religion of the Landless, appearing after
m ost o f these essays were first published, takes u p some o f the con
cerns for the postexilic period that B rueggem ann has placed to
the fore.
T he essay on Isaiah 55 an d Daniel 1 referred to in the preced
ing paragraph poses as forthrightly as any the m ethodological issues
arising from th e kind o f intertextuality and imaginative herm en eu
tics th at B rueggem ann carries out. Indeed he presents it explicitly
as an exam ple o f “new m ethods,” that is, intertextual and socio
political readings. H ere inner-biblical interpretation wins ou t over
historical-critical in terp retation, which has focused on the historical
setting o f Daniel an d fixed it firmly in the second century b . c .e . The
large historical separation o f Isaiah 55 (exilic or early postexilic) and
Daniel 1 is set aside in favor o f relating the two texts on the ba
sis o f th e typological issues o f resistance and alternative. H e calls
Daniel 1 a “m idrashic com m entary” on Isaiah 55 b u t is am biguous
as to how m uch he understands th at as an intentional dependence
of th e o ne text u p o n the other. Such intentional connection seems
n o t to be a m atter o f large concern to him. H e him self says that
such an ap proach as he takes in this juxtaposition o f texts “may
be m ore impressionistic, reflecting enorm ous interpretative freedom
and im agination.” Such an admission invites the reader to see if
freedom has becom e license an d im agination fantasy. Brueggem ann
gives every indication o f welcoming such “close reading” o f his free
interpretation, as long as it is accom panied by a close reading o f the
texts to see if such free interpretation cannot also tu rn ou t to make

sense.
T he challenge to assumed m odes o f reading an d interpreting
is presen t in a similar fashion in his treatm ent o f Solom on as pa
tro n o f wisdom (chap. 12, “The Social Significance o f Solom on as a
P atron o f W isdom”). H e brings to the treatm ent o f the Solom onic
period, and especially its cultural and intellectual character—what
von Rad called “enlightenm ent”—a social analysis th at has n o t been
as m uch a p art o f the discussion. As such, he sides m ore with von Rad
than with his critics, to wit, that a broad social transform ation took
place involving new forms of power and new m odes o f knowledge.
H ere his social analysis comes in conflict with literary-critical analy
sis vis-a-vis Solom on’s connection to wisdom, a literary analysis that
he accepts. Brueggem ann argues, however, that literary evidence is
n o t sufficient for historical conclusions w ithout social analysis also
being b ro u g h t into the picture. H ere is his m ethodological axe.
As h e puts it, the historical question about Solom on as a wisdom
teacher may an d has ignored the “larger question o f the rational
ity an d intellectual com m itm ents of the world o f which Solom on is
b oth sponsor an d benefactor.” T he argum ent with Jam es Crenshaw
and R. B. Y. Scott in this essay is a prim e exam ple o f B rueggem ann’s
social reading o f the texts and the differences with o th er legitim ate
and necessary m ethods. The connection between “econom ics and
epistemology,” as he puts it in this essay, needs to be explored, an
enterprise Brueggem ann pursues in this volume with great energy.
B rueggem ann’s critique of m uch discussion of the question o f
theodicy is th at it has consistently refused to think ab o u t how this
problem as a justice issue—th at is, justifying the ways o f God to
hum an beings— is also a social issue (chap. 9, “Theodicy in a So
cial Dim ension”). H e hints rath er strongly that the social location
o f m ost scholars a n d theologians has led to their treatm ent o f this
issue in highly idealistic term s an d offers this essay as an explicit cor
rective. T he challenge in this case is laid before theology an d ethics
as m uch as biblical interpretation.
Violence in Scripture (see chap. 15) has received a new focus in
the light o f the work of Rene Girard. Brueggem ann takes up th at
difficult topic in a substantial b u t quite different m an n er than one
finds in Girard. O nce again, sociological and literary m ethods are
jo in e d in a focus on the them e o f “horses and chariots” to take up
the difficult question o f how texts o f violence are to be understood
as revelation. In so doing, both the violence o f Scripture an d its rev
Introduction
elatory character are given a fresh reading that docs not diim im li
the disturbing an d abrasive character o f the texts of Joshua (.uni
elsewhere) b u t refocuses it in relation to the royal and liberation
trajectories set fo rth in the first essay. This essay provides a powei fill
testimony to the validity o f trajectories Brueggem ann disccrns in the
sweep o f the O ld Testam ent and the fruitfulness of such a framework
for dealing with difficult texts and difficult topics.6
6. The essays in this volume, all of which have been published previously, have
been reedited only slighdy, and in some instances the n r s v translation has been
substituted for the r s v of the original publication.
4
Part One
Guidelines and
Approaches
1
Trajectories in Old Testament
Literature and the Sociology
of Ancient Israel
I t HAS LONG BEEN RECOGNIZED that there are two circles of

tradition in Israel’s literature concerning covenant, one derived from
Moses a n d the o th er Davidic in its form ulation.1 T he biblical tradi
tion itself wishes to suggest th at the two are continuous, so th at the
Davidic is a natural derivation from th at o f Moses an d fully faithful
to it. U ndoubtedly, the circles around David urged this perception
of the m atter. R ecent critical scholarship, however, has now m ade it
reasonable to assume th at these two articulations of covenant are no t
only distinct b u t also came from very different centers o f power and
very different processes o f tradition building.2
1. On the extensive literature, see Leonhard Rost, “Sinaibund und Davidsbund,”

TLZ 72 (1947): 129-34; and idem, “Erwagungen zu Hosea 4:14f.,” in Festschrift Alfred
Bertholet, ed. W. Baumgartner et al. (Tubingen: Mohr, 1950), 459-60; Masao Sekine,
“Davidsbund und Sinaibund b eijerem ia,” VT 9 (1959): 47-57; Antonius H. J. Gun-
neweg, “Sinaibund und Davidsbund," VT 10 (1960): 335-41; Murray Newman, The
People of the Covenant (New York: Abingdon, 1962); David N. Freedman, “Divine
Commitment and Human Obligation,” Int 18 (1964): 419-31; Delbert Hillers, Cov
enant: The History of a Biblical Idea (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univ. Press, 1969);
Tomoo Ishida, The Royal Dynasties in Ancient Israel, BZAW 142 (Berlin: de Gruyter,
1977), 99-117; Ronald Clements, Abraham and David, SBT 2 /5 (London: SCM,
1967); and the general comments o f Dennis McCarthy, Old Testament Covenant
(Richmond: John Knox, 1972), especially chaps. 2 and 5.
2. Newman (People of the Covenant) had already argued that the Abraham-David
tradition is derived from the south and the Mosaic tradition from the north. The dif
ference, of course, is more cultural and sociological than geographical. Bernhard W.
Anderson (Creation versus Chaos [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987]) has shown the cre
13
Tension and, in some ways, conflict between the traditions can

be sensed even when one is n o t attem pting to be precise about
the points o f origin or settings for the two circles o f tradition.
R ecent traditio-historical analyses confirm such a ju d g m en t.3 Two ad
ditional observations need to be m ade in o rd er to provide a better
understanding of these circles of tradition. First, we may speak of
trajectories ru n n in g through the tradition. To my knowledge, the
categories o f Jam es M. Robinson and H elm ut Koester4 have n o t been
applied to O ld Testam ent studies. They urge th at pieces o f litera
ture a n d tradition should n o t be studied in isolation n o r in term s of
m echanical dep en dence and relationship through a literary process,
b u t th at special attention should be paid to the continuities th at flow
between various pieces o f literature. As a result of social value, use,
and transmission, continuities both in term s o f cultural context and
in term s o f theological perspecdve becom e decisive for interpreta
tion.5 Applied to the two covenantal traditions in the O ld Testam ent,
“trajectories” suggest th at we m ight be able to trace continuities
in the literature shaped and energized by the Mosaic and Davidic
covenants. Specifically, as will be evident in what follows, the Mosaic
tradition tends to be a m ovem ent o f protest that is situated am ong
the disinherited and that articulates its theological vision in terms
of a God who decisively intrudes, even against seemingly im pene
trable institutions and orderings. O n the o th er hand, the Davidic
tradition tends to be a m ovem ent o f consolidation th at is situated
am ong the established and secure and th at articulates its theological
vision in term s o f a God who faithfully abides a n d sustains on behalf
of the presen t ordering.6 As is clear from the work o f R obinson and
ative power of the Jerusalem establishment as expressed in the various creation and
royal traditions.
3. See the summary of Douglas Knight, The Traditions of Israel, SBLDS 9
(Missoula, M onti Scholars Press, 1973).
4. James M. Robinson and Helmut Koester, Trajectories through Early Christianity
(Philadelphia: Fortress, 1971).
5. O n the issue of continuity and discontinuity, see especially the discussions of
Peter Ackroyd, Continuity: A Contribution to the Study of the Old Testament Religious
Tradition (Oxford: Blackwell, 1962); and idem, “Continuity and Discontinuity: Re
habilitation and Authentication,” in Tradition and Theology in the Old Testament, ed.
Douglas Knight (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977), 215-34.
6. See the summary of Claus Westermann, “Creation and History in the Old Tes
tament,” in The Gospel and Human Destiny, ed. Vilma Vajta (Minneapolis: Augsburg,
1971), 11-38. Westermann has observed how the different traditions yield very dif
ferent presentations of God. He has n o t pursued the sociological dimension of the
argument, but it is clear that the theological Tendenz of a trajectory serves specific
interests.
Old Testament Literature and the Sociology of Ancient Israel 15
Koester, attention to trajectories is at best imprecise and does no t

perm it a rigid schem atization. It does, however, provide a way to see
a c o h e ren t an d persistent Tendenz in each stream.
Second, the presence a n d m eaning o f two alternative covenant
traditions are richly illum inated by attention to sociological factors.
W hile we still do n o t have a com prehensive overview of this data, the
work o f George M endenhall, N orm an Gottwald, and Paul H anson
provides som e beginnings. Such work makes clear th at the literature
th at stands within the various trajectories is never sociologically disin
terested n o r singularly concerned with m atters theological. Each text
and each trajectory reflects im portant socioeconom ic and political
concerns.
T he following discussion will consider the two covenant traditions
in term s o f literary trajectories and sociological considerations that
may be related to them . T hus far, scholarly presentations have been
con cern ed only with sm aller historical periods and n o t with a com
prehensive pattern for the whole. This essay suggests the provisional
discernm ent o f a com prehensive pattern that may significantly alter
o u r u n d erstan d ing o f the theological im port o f the texts a n d the
literary-historical questions relating to them .
I
It will be useful to consider relevant scholarly literature in term s o f
various periods o f Israel’s history th at have been subjected to study.
O u r presentation will reflect a certain periodization o f Israel’s his
tory; however, th at periodization is used simply as a way o f reporting
various scholarly studies. N one of the scholars m entioned has urged
a p attern o f periodization, so th at it may be regarded simply as an
organization of convenience. For the present discussion, the stress is
o n th e continuity o f the trajectory rather than the periodization.
As early as 1962, M endenhall proposed a fresh way o f u n d er
standing the conquest an d the prem onarchal period o f Israel (1250-
1000 b .c . e .) .7 In contrast to the dom inant views o f conquest, either
by invasion o r infiltration, M endenhall urged th at Israel was form ed
by an in tentional “b o n d between persons in an intolerable situa
7. George Mendenhall, “The Hebrew Conquest of Palestine,” BA 25 (1962): 66-

87. His alternative hypothesis has been given a positive treatm ent by Jo h n Bright,
A History of Israel, 2d ed. (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1972), 133 n. 69, and Jo h n L.
McKenzie, The World of the Judges (New York: Prentice-Hall, 1966), 95-98.
tion.”8 O ppressed people with an alternative vision of social order

were able to “reject the religious, econom ic and political obliga
tions to the existing network o f political organizations.”9 T he habiru
m ounted a revolution against tyrannical C anaanite city-kings, re
jecting the given social order. B ound to a n o nhum an overlord by
covenant and the solidarity o f the newly form ed community, they
set ab out fashioning a deliberate alternative social ordering that
becam e Israel. Thus, M endenhall has in terp reted the “conquest”
in the categories o f oppressed people revolting for liberation ver
sus tyrannical city-kings. In what follows, it will be suggested that
these categories provide entry into the two dom inant trajectories of
Israelite literature.
Related to this hypothesis, several observations em erge from so
ciological considerations. First, the dom inant view o f early Israel as
nom adic has been sharply placed in question. T he sociological data,
sum m arized by M endenhall10 and Gottwald an d Frank S. Frick,11 re
quire a fresh sociological realism about Israel as an alternative to
the city-state. W hat is different is n o t mobility o r a lack o f a place
but a social o rdering that is characterized by political decentraliza
tion and social egalitarianism in contrast to urban centralization and
social stratification with the power in the hands o f an elite. In his
prelim inary paper, Gottwald contrasts the city and the countryside
as available alternative m odels,12 whereas M endenhall presents Is
8. Mendenhall, “The Hebrew Conquest,” 119.

9. Ibid., 109.
10. George Mendenhall, “The Conflict between Value Systems and Social Con
trol,” Unity and Diversity, ed. Hans Goedicke and J. J. M. Roberts (Baltimore; Johns
Hopkins Univ. Press, 1975), 169-80; idem, “The Monarchy,” Int 29 (1975): 155-
70; idem, “Samuel’s Broken Rib: Deuteronomy 32,” in No Famine in the Land, ed.
James W. Flanagan and Anita Weisbrod Robinson (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press,
1975), 63-74; and Mendenhall’s synthesis in The Tenth Generation (Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins Univ. Press, 1973), especially chaps. 1, 7, and 8. These studies are derivative
from his early work on covenant in 1954; since then he has explored the sociological
aspects of that study.
11. Norman Gottwald, “Biblical Theology or Biblical Sociology?” Radical Religion 2
(1975): 46-57; idem, “Domain Assumptions and Societal Models in the Study of Pre-
monarchic Israel,” VTSup 28 (1974): 89-100; and idem, “Were the Early Israelites
Pastoral Nomads?” in Rhetorical Criticism, ed. Jared J. Jackson and Martin Kessler
(Pittsburgh: Pickwick, 1974), 223-55; Norman Gottwald and Frank S. Frick, “The
Social World of Ancient Israel,” SBLSP (1975): 165-78.
12. For our argum ent and its implications, it is im portant to note that both
Gottwald and Mendenhall are engaged in the construction of alternative models.
Obviously, increased data can still be adapted to the regnant models, but the im
portance o f their work is precisely in the proposal of a new comprehensive model
for interpretation.
Old Testament Literature an d the Sociology o f Ancient Israel 17
rael’s egalitarian m ovem ent as a m ore radical step. Thus, Israel is

n o t to be understood as a group o f geographical outsiders but as
sociopolitical outsiders who were geographically present b u t n o t per
m itted to share in the shaping of their own destiny. T heir m arginality
is n o t geographical in character b u t rather social, econom ic, a n d po
litical. Thus, instead o f nom ad, the suggested sociological identity is
th at o f peasant, a term th at m eans the politically and economically
m arginal elem ent o f society from whose produce the elite draw their
life. T h e peasant is characterized as one whose labor yields produce
enjoyed by others.13
Second, M endenhall has urged a rethinking o f the notio n of
“tribe” in characterizations o f early Israel.14 The tribe, h e urges, is
no t to be u n d erstood as a natural ethnic grouping bu t as an in
tentional com m unity deliberately com m itted to a different ideology
and a different social organization.15 Such a notion suggests th at the
central social u n it in early Israel is n o t to be confused eith er with
conventional notions o f nom adism or with anthropological ideas of
kinship groups.
These groups are historical and not natural. In Israel they did
no t originate because o f necessity or nature but through historical
decision making. T he tribe in Israel is to be contrasted with the state,
a distinction th at has received various presentations in the history
o f sociology. It is especially to be noted that the historical decision
m aking from whence com es such a tribe is an intentional action that
is the first step away from historical marginality.
T hird, such an understanding of the social u n it provides a way
by which g reater stress may be placed on covenant as an ideology
and form o f social organization. T he hypothesis o f covenant (antic
ipated by M artin B uber an d articulated especially by Klaus Baltzer
and M en d en h all)16 o f course provides a m ajor conceptual category
13. Ernest Wolf (Peasants [Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1966]) has pro
vided a basic study o f this social factor. Cf. John H. Halligan, “The Role o f the
Peasant in the Amarna Period," SBLSP (1976): 155-70. Concerning what is perhaps
a contemporary parallel to this crisis in Israel, Hugo Blanco (Land or Death [New
York: Pathfinder, 1972], 110) asserts, “We must always keep in mind that the historic
problem of the peasant around which all others revolve is the problem of land.”
14. Mendenhall, Tenth Generation, chap. 7, and more recendy, idem, “Social Or
ganization in Early Israel,” in Magnalia Dei: The Mighty Acts of God, ed. Frank M.
Cross, W erner Lemke, and Patrick D. Miller Jr. (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1976),
132-51.
15. Mendenhall, Tenth Generation, 19-31.
16. Martin Buber, The Kingship o f God, 3d ed. (New York: Harper and Row, 1966),
especially chap. 7. It is remarkable that Buber had seen this long before the work
for u n derstanding Israel. But that conceptualization has in scholarly

discussion stayed largely in the sphere o f theological interpretation.
Indeed, Baltzer’s excellent study is confined to literary and form-
critical concerns. Only relatively recendy has the notion of covenant
been h an d led sociologically to suggest that it provided ground for
a “systematic, ethically and religiously based, conscious rejection o f
many cultural traits o f the late Bronze Age urban and im perial
cultures.”17 T he covenant, then, is m ore politically radical and histor
ically p ertin e n t to early Israel than has often been recognized, for it
perm itted a political novum in history and a radical break with urban
culture. M endenhall has in schematic fashion contrasted the reg n an t
social organization and the alternative m ade possible by covenant.18
While M endenhall in 195419 did turn scholarship in a new direc
tion, his m iyor sociological in ten t has been neglected. M endenhall’s
crucial presentation had two parts. T he first dealt with the “treaty-
form ” an d ancient N ear Eastern parallels discovered in Hittite and
Assyrian texts. T he second was concerned with the innovative so
cial vision and social organization derived from a covenant-treaty.
Scholarship has largely em braced the form er and has busily iden
tified elem ents o f the treaty-form in many places, although some
identifications are exceedingly doubtful.20
For a n u m b er of years, M endenhall’s m ajor concern for social
vision and social organization was no t recognized o r pursued by
scholars. It was M endenhall’s own m ore recent work that indicated
th at covenanted Israel em bodied no t only a theological novelty b u t
also a social experim ent as well.21 T he theological factor has re
quired a quite new discernm ent o f God as a faithful covenanter who
of Mendenhall and Baltzer. See Klaus Baltzer, The Covenant Formulary (Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1971). George Mendenhall, Law and Covenant in Israel and the Ancient Near
East (Pittsburgh: Biblical Colloquium, 1955).
17. Mendenhall, Tenth Generation, 12.
18. Mendenhall, “The Conflict between Value Systems and Social Control.” In
tabulating the contrasts between social theories based on “covenant” and “law,” it is
likely that he uses “law” in the same sense as does Paul in his radical critique of the
theological function of the law.
19. Mendenhall, Law and Covenant in Israel.
20. See the summary of McCarthy, Old Testament Covenant.
21. The earlier scholarly consideration of M endenhall’s work focused on the
radical theological break with the religion of the day. Only more recently has
the social counterpart of that radical theology been more widely considered. The
links between the theological and sociological are evident in Tenth Generation. See
also Gottwald, “Biblical Theology or Biblical Sociology?” and especially M. Douglas
Meeks, “G od’s Suffering Power and Liberation,” yRX 33 (1977): 44-54.
Old Testament Literature and the Sociology o f Ancient Israel 19
engaged in the history o f Israel and who was im pacted by Israel’s

history, its acts and praises, b u t who nonetheless has in d ep en d e n t
p urpose a n d authority n o t derived from the covenanted partner.
Conversely, the theological self-understanding o f Israel perm itted a
new p eo p le th at had no o th er identity—linguistic, racial, ethnic, or
territorial— except exclusive allegiance to its God. T hat m uch has
b een widely observed.22
W hat has n o t been sufficiently appreciated are the social impli
cations o f this theological novelty. Covenantal com m itm ent to this
God, unknow n by nam e an d w ithout credential in the em pire, car
ried with it a rejection o f loyalty to the gods o f the em pire and a
rejection o f th e ways o f o rdering that society.23 Thus, the theological
vision, eith er as im petus o r as justification,24 m ade possible a radical
discontinuity in the social organization o f Israel. Israel was no longer
b o u n d to the religion o f the em pire that had now been effectively
delegitim ated, and Israel could no longer and n eed no longer rely
u p o n th e self-securing technology of the empire.
This way o f in terp retin g the data presum es a close link between
22. A model articulation of that insight is offered by G. Ernest Wright, The Old
Testament against Its Environment, SBT 2 (London: SCM, 1950).
23. Gottwald (“Biblical Theology or Biblical Sociology?”) is especially attentive to
the social use and function o f religion, an insight surely Marxist in its awareness. His
summary of the break in sociology asserted by Yahwism is this: “In brief the chief
articles of Yahwistic faith may be socio-economically ‘de-mythologized’ as follows:
‘Yahweh’ is the historically centralized primordial power to establish and sustain
social equality in the face of oppression from without and simultaneously provincial
ism and non-egalitarian tendencies from within the society... .Yahweh is unlike the
other gods of the ancient Near East as Israel’s egalitarian inter-tribal order is unlike
the other ancient Near Eastern social system.... The social-organization principle in
Israel finds its counterpart in a symbolic ideological exclusionary principle in the
image of the deity” (p. 52).
24. Acknowledgment must o f course be made of Feuerbach’s criticism that every
religious statem ent is indeed a projection of social reality. Gottwald (“Biblical The
ology or Biblical Sociology?” 48) appears to move in this direction: “It seems that
it is primarily from the historico-social struggle of a sovereign inter-tribal commu
nity that the major analogies for conceiving Yahweh are drawn.” Mendenhall more
readily appeals to the category of revelation and exercises a kind of theological pos
itivism. Thus, there is a difference between them on this point. Mendenhall (Tenth
Generation, 16) alludes to the problem: “Do the people create a religion, o r does
the religion create a people? Historically, when we are dealing with the formative
period o f Moses and Judges, there can be no doubt that the latter is correct, for the
historical, linguistic, and archaeological evidence is too powerful to deny. Religion
furnished the foundation for a unity far beyond anything that had existed before,
and the covenant appears to have been the only conceivable instrum ent through
which the unity was brought about and expressed.” In any case, their critical ap
proaches disclose in fresh ways the fact that not only the dominant theology but the
dom inant scholarly methodology is not disinterested.
theological vision and sociological organization. A totalitarian, hi

erarchical social order has its counterpart an d justification in the
static religion o f the em pire in which the gods have no in d ep en
d en t existence b u t are only an integral p art o f the social system.25
Most obviously, the pharaoh, m anager o f the social process, is at
the same tim e the em bodim ent o f the gods. T here is an identity of
social process and theological vision, an arrangem ent that assured
changelessness and that denied any standing g round for theological
criticism o f social reality.26
W hen the “new” God of freedom and justice is accepted as cov
en an t partner, the totalitarian, hierarchical social o rd er is no longer
necessary o r viable. Thus, the Israelite order from Moses until the
time o f David, 1250-1000 B.C.E., represents a sociological experi
m ent to d eterm in e if a society is possible when n o t sanctioned and
protected by the im perial gods. It is adm ittedly a precarious social
experim ent based on a precarious theological vision. T hat exper
im entation stands in sharp discontinuity with its political context
as well as its theological m ilieu an d is justified only by the bold
theological novelty o f Yahwism, a novelty focused on justice and
freedom .27
So far as I am aware, M endenhall at no p o in t appeals to a Marx
ist criticism o f society. Gottwald, however, does allow for it.28 T he
discernm ent o f the new situation is in keeping with the insight o f
25. Meeks (“G od’s Suffering Power and Liberation”) has discerned how a notion
of God who is passionless serves well a psychology and a sociology that are com-
passionless. This observation appears to be especially im portant to the liberation
movements as they address the theological and sociological paradigms of domi
nance. Cf. Jane Marie Luecke, “The Dominance Syndrome,” Christian Century 94
(1977): 405-7, for a summary of the matter.
26. Mendenhall has seen that to the extent that God is continuous with the
socioeconomic system, outsiders have no court of transcendent appeal against the
dominant ordering. T hat linkage of sociology and theology is especially evident in
Egyptian religion, which, on the one hand, is committed to order and, on the
other hand, regards pharaoh as an em bodiment of that ordering divinity. O n both
sociological and theological grounds, revolution is unthinkable. See Henri Frankfort,
Kingship and the Gods (Chicago: Univ. o f Chicago Press, 1948). The subtide is telling:
“A Study of Ancient Near Eastern Religion as the Integration of Society and Nature.”
Such integration brings with it social conservatism.
27. The Mosaic tradition is premised on the affirmation of a God who has
freedom from the regime. On the freedom of God in this tradition, see Walther
Zimmerli, “Prophetic Proclamation and Reinterpretation,” in Tradition and Theology
in the Old Testament, 69-100. Zimmerli sees the tradition as being concerned with
the fact that “Yahweh in his freedom can utter his word anew.”
28. In addition to the various articles in The Bible and Liberation, ed. Norman
Gottwald (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1983), which make primary use of Marxist critical
Old Testament Literature an d the Sociology of Ancient Israel 21
Marx th at the ultim ate criticism is the criticism o f heaven, which

then radically criticizes all earthly, historical institutions.29
This insight, only recently reasserted by M endenhall in a discus
sion o f the covenant hypothesis, presents a quite shifted paradigm
for biblical study, one th at will need carefully to be studied, tested,
and considered. In both the “peasant revolt” theory o f “conquest”
and the “covenant law” them e, M endenhall has understood Israel
in sharp discontinuity with its context. It may be argued that this is
simply a class-conflict reading o f the text, or perhaps the em ergence
of an alternative consciousness.30 In any case, it provides a way to
hold to g eth er (1) a sense o f religious radicalness that either is unex
plained o r appeals to “revelation” and (2) the awareness o f urgency
ab out social reality evident in the text. For the m om ent, setting aside
literary-critical judgm ents, such a view perm its us to u nderstand the
militancy o f D euteronom y31 as it urges an alternative understanding
o f reality and the high-risk venture Israel’s faith is shown to be in the
book o f Judges. M uch m ore is now seen to be at stake in the pressure
o f syncretism, for it is n o t ju s t a choosing am ong gods o r a m atter of
loyalty to this especially jealous one, bu t the shape and character
of hu m an com m unity are in question along with the God-question.
H um an society, as o rd ered by Moses, is covenantal because the cov
tools, see especially Gottwald, “Early Israel and the Asiatic Mode o f Production,”
SBLSP (1976): 145-54.
29. Marx’s programmatic statem ent in his “Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of
Right” is: “Thus the criticism o f heaven is transformed into the criticism o f earth,
the criticism of religion into the criticism of law, and the criticism of theology into
the criticism of politics” (see The Marx-Engels Reader, ed. R. C. Tucker [New York:
W. W. N orton, 1972], 13). My criticism of Gottwald, from whom I have learned so
much, is that he has no t given sufficient attention to a critique of heaven.
30. In Israel, poetry may be understood as the rhetoric of the alternative com
munity that refuses to abide by the prose of the empire. On the act of poetry as
an assertion of liberation, see David N. Freedman, “Pottery, Poetry and Prophecy:
An Essay on Biblical Poetry,” JBL 96 (1977): 5-26, and less directly, idem, “Divine
Names and Tides in Early Hebrew Poetry,” in Magnolia Dei, 55-107. In the latter
essay, the discernment of “militant,” “revival,” and “syncretism” in poetry (pp. 56-
57) is worth noting because the categories suggest the social use of the poems. On
rhetoric as a tool for an alternative community, see Rubem Alves, Tomorrow’s Child
(New York: H arper and Row, 1972).
31. See N orbert Lohfink, “Culture Shock and Theology,” BTB 7 (1977): 12-21,
on culture crisis and the constructive function of Deuteronomy. For an alternative
understanding of the social function of Deuteronomy, see Joseph Gutmann, The
Image and the Word (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1977), 5-25. Gutmann appeals
especially to the hypothesis of W. E. Claburn, “The Fiscal Basis of Josiah’s Reform,”
JBL 92 (1973): 11-22.
en an t God b oth sanctions and expects it. And Israel m ust resist every
religion and every politics that would dism antle the covenant.
These discussions o f peasants, tribe, and covenant prepare the
way for Gottwald’s m ajor study o f early Israel as a com m unity of
radical liberation. His book32 argues th at conventional historical in
terpretations d o n o t appropriate the sociopolitical radicalness o f a
m ovem ent th at is profoundly religious in its com m itm ent to the God
o f the exodus an d dangerously political in its rejection o f the status
quo with its oppressive consciousness and practice.
We do n o t have (nor are we likely to have) a parallel considera
tion o f the religion o f the tyrannical city-kings o f Canaan. Obviously,
th at lies outside the scope o f Israel’s normative faith an d is treated
by the Old Testam ent texts only in reaction and with contem pt and
hostility. T he social organization o f the period, however, provides a
clue to the religious ideology th at undoubtedly legitim ated it. We
may presum e th at this religion concerned a god o f o rd er who surely
served to legitim ate the way things already were. W hile one cannot
be very precise, clearly the structure o f liberation faith vis-a-vis a re
ligion of legitim ated order is already evident. T h at trajectory o f a
religion o f G od’s freedom and a politics o f justice will be im portant
for the subsequent periods.
II
T he second perio d we shall consider is th at o f the united m onar
chy. Obviously, som ething decisive hap p en ed to Israel in this period.
T he tensions revealed in 1 Sam uel reflect a battle for Israel as to
w hether it will be “like the o ther nations” (1 Sam. 8:5, 20) o r w hether
it shall be 'am qadSs, a people holy to the Lord. While th at issue has
long been perceived, it is now possible to conclude that this was n o t
only a battle over gods and theological identity b u t also a battle con
cerning social values and social organization. T he innovations and
inventiveness o f David and Solom on (expressed, for instance, in tem
ple, bureaucracy, harem , standing army, taxation system, utilization
o f wisdom) em body an im itation o f urban im perial consciousness o f
Israel’s m ore impressive neighbors and a radical rejection of the lib
eration consciousness o f the Mosaic tradition. While the texts shaped
u n d er the aegis (note the word) o f the m onarchy in their present
32. The book is entitled The Tribes ofYahwek (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1979).
form stress continuity with an d propose fidelity to the tradition o f

Moses, th e discontinuities can scarcely be overstated.
M endenhall has described this as the “paganization o f Israel.”33
It is clear from his work th at the social innovation o f Moses an d its
corresponding theological novelty o f a God aligned with the m ar
ginal ones were ab andoned in m onarchal Israel. Social innovation
and theological novelty sustained the com m unity for 250 years, b u t
only as a m arginal, m inority com m unity preoccupied with survival.
T h at now is given u p w hen the com m unity has the resources and
breathing space n o t only to survive bu t also to dom inate its context,
as Solom on was able to do.34 T he radical experim ent o f Moses is
given up an d there is in Israel an em brace of the very im perial no
tions rejected from Egypt.35 This im perial consciousness com bines a
religion o f a static, g uaranteed God together with a politics o f injus
tice and social dom ination, precisely antithetical to the religion of
the freedom o f God and the politics of justice introduced by Moses
and kept alive in the com m unity o f prem onarchal Israel.
T he change can be observed in a variety o f ways. First, the organ
izational an d institutional changes are well known: from traditional
to bureaucratic leadership, from tribal ordering to governm ental
districts, from “holy war” ideology to hired m ercenaries, and the in
troduction o f a harem as an appropriate royal accoutrem ent. Thus,
the presuppositions o f public life were drastically altered, indicating
an ab an d o n m en t o f the vision that powered the “peasant revolt.”
Second, the discernm ent o f G od’s relation to the com m unity is
reshaped. T h at change may be presented in term s o f ten t and house.
T he old tradition o f “ten t” asserts a claim o f mobility and freedom
for God. T he “h o u se” tradition is surely royal in its orientation and
stresses th e abiding presence o f Yahweh to Israel. Thus, the tension
o f the freedom o f God an d the accessibility o f God to Israel is now
tilted in a new direction.36 T he older Mosaic tradition stressed the
33. Mendenhall, Tenth Generation, 16, 182, 195-96; idem, “The Monarchy,” 157-66;
idem, “Samuel’s Broken Rib,” 67.
34. It is evident that the critical perversion came not with David but with Sol
omon. See Frank M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic (Cambridge, Mass.:
Harvard Univ. Press, 1973), 237-41, and Walter Brueggemann, In Man We Trust
(Richmond: Jo h n Knox, 1972), 64-77.
35. On the Solomonic fascination with Egypt, see T. N. D. Mettinger, Solomonic
State Officials (Lund: Gleerup, 1971), and G. Ernest Wright, Biblical Archaeology
(Philadelphia: Westminster, 1957), 120-63.
36. On this tension, see Walter Brueggemann, “Presence of God, Cultic,” in
IDBSup (New York: Abingdon, 1976), 680-83.
freedom o f God, and the notion o f presence was precarious. Now

the notion o f presence is prim ary and G od’s freedom is severely
constricted, for the royal regim e m ust depend on a patro n and le-
gitim ator who is unreservedly com m itted to the shrine and its social
arrangem ent.
Third, in the context o f social transform ation an d theological
revision, Frank M. Cross has offered a persuasive construction o f
the history o f priesthood in Israel.37 Clearly, the priestly narratives
m ust be read with attention to the conflicted an d political interest
th at seems always to have b een at stake. It is clear that David was
able to achieve a rem arkable balance in having two priests, A biathar
and Zadok, an d it is equally clear that Solom on brashly dissolved
the balance with the enhancem ent o f Zadok a n d the elim ination o f
A biathar (1 Kings 2:26-27).
By carefully piecing together the fragm entary evidence, Cross
concludes th at David held together the priestly rivalry to serve his
dom inant interest of political unification. According to Cross, one
priestly interest, represented by Abiathar, is the M ushite house with
old links to Shiloh and Nob; the o ther is the house o f Aaron,
represented by Zadok, with roots in H ebron and, ultimately, in
Jerusalem .38 Further, after the period of the united monarchy, J e r
oboam I, in setting up his two shrines, balanced a Mushite shrine
in Dan with the A aronid shrine of Bethel.39 Thus, the narrative, as
A lbrecht Alt has recognized, shows David holding together the im
perial an d covenantal constituencies. In terms o f social vision an d
organization, it is plausible that David m anaged the process so th at
he did n o t finally force the issue that was so clearly and ruthlessly
forced by Solomon.
T he Davidic-Solomonic tradition with its roots in Abraham ic
m em ory provides an im portant alternative theological trajectory.40
37. Cross, Canaanite Myth, 195-215.

38. Cross’s location of Zadok clearly is an advance beyond the position of
Harold H. Rowley (see Cross, Canaanite Myth, 209). Nonetheless, Rowley (“Zadok
and Nehustan,” JBL 58 [1939]: 113-41; idem, “Melchizedeq and Zadok [Gen 14
and Ps 110],” in Festschrift Alfred, Bertholet [Tubingen: Mohr, 1950], 461-72) already
had seen that Zadok represents a cultic tradition essentially alien to the Mosaic
tradition.
39. Cross, Canaanite Myth, 211.
40. Here we are concerned with the traditioning process and not with consider
ation of historically objective issues. But note must be taken o f the radical position
of John Van Seters, Abraham in History and Tradition (New Haven: Yale Univ. Press,
1975), and Thomas L. Thompson, The Historicity of the Patriarchal Narratives, BZAW
133 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1974).
We may identify two theological elem ents that are surely linked to
this m ovem ent an d th at are im portant to the subsequent faith and
literature o f th e Bible. First, it is generally agreed th at the em er
gence o f creation faith in Israel has its setting in Jerusalem an d its
context in the royal consciousness.41 T he shift o f social vision is ac
com panied with a shifted theological m ethod th at em braces m ore
o f the im perial myths o f the ancient N ear East and breaks with the
t scandalous historical particularity o f the Moses tradition. T he result
is a universal an d com prehensive worldview that is m ore inclined to
ward social stability than toward social transform ation and liberation.
Thus, creation theology, like every theological effort, is politically in
terested an d serves to legitim ate the regime that in turn sponsors
and vouches for this theological perspective.
Second, clearly from this tradition comes messianism, the notion
o f G od’s prom ise being b o rn e in history by an identifiable historical
institution. Thus, the Davidic house now becom es n o t only histor
ically im p o rtan t b u t theologically decisive for the future o f Israel,
an d all prom ises an d futures are now u n d er the dom inance o f this
institution. It will be clear th at in both ways, creation and messian
ism, the royal perspective is in tension with the Mosaic tradition. In
the Mosaic tradition, narratives o f concrete liberation are m uch p re
ferred to com prehensive myths o f world order. In the Mosaic world,
precarious covenant prem ised on loyalty is in deep tension with the
unconditional affirm ation o f a historical institution. In these m a
j o r ways, the Davidic-Solomonic period witnesses the em ergence o f
an alternative b oth in theology and politics that is in radical ten
sion with Mosaic tradition an d congenial to the non-Mosaic and
pre-Mosaic royal traditions.42
For purposes o f tracing literary-theological trajectories, it is im
p o rtan t to recognize that the M ushite priesthood was heir to the
liberation faith ro o ted in Moses an d preserved am ong the n o rth
ern tribes, likely at the shrines of the confederation. Conversely, the
Zadokite rootage, from w hat can be reconstructed, belonged to a
royal consciousness based in an urban context. T he priestly conflict
is n o t ju s t an in-house pow er struggle of priestly interests, b u t it is
again a battle for the life o f Israel between a liberation faith an d a
41. See Anderson, Creation versus Chaos.

42. O n Ezekiel’s resolution of the role of the messiah in the Mosaic tradition,
see Jon D. Levenson, Theolog) of the Program of Restoration of Ezekiel 40-48, HSM 10
(Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1976), chap. 2. On the reassertion of the older,
pre-Mosaic traditions, see Cross, Canaanite Myth, 343-46.
religion o f legitim ated order. T he issue o f the earlier period (to use
the construct o f M endenhall) between “peasants” and “city-kings”
appears to apply here.
O n th e basis o f such a reading of the evidence, the H e b ro n /
Shiloh, A aronid/M ushite, A aron/M oses pattern and the vindication
of the form er in each case show th at the consciousness o f the united
m onarchy was finally shaped decisively by a tradition rooted in very
old pre-Israelite royal traditions. Specifically, it provided a shrine
th at legitim ated order at the expense of justice, that presented the
king as the principle of ord er and no t as a child o f the torah, and
th at placed stress on dynastic continuity at the expense o f critical
transcendence in history.
T he tradition of the Canaanite city-kings to whom M endenhall
has applied the term “tyrannical” found its continuation in the royal
theology focused on creation an d messiah. T he Mosaic tradition
found its m uted continuation in the priestly house of Abiathar, in
occasional prophetic criticism, in the symbolic b u t revolutionary re
jectio n o f the Davidic house (2 Sam. 20:1; 1 Kings 12:16), a n d in
protests against the institution o f m onarchy (1 Samuel 8; 12) an d its
“sacred space” (1 Kings 8:27).
Ill
T he two trajectories can be discerned in developm ent throughout
the period o f the divided m onarchies, 922-587 b .c .e . For this period
there has n o t been the enorm ous scholarly activity o f a sociologi
cal character as for the o th er periods. The tensions revealed here
are also b etter understood when placed in the fram e o f the earliest
confrontation o f peasants an d city-kings.
T he political institutions o f the n o rth ern and southern king
doms are likely vehicles for these two traditions o f religion and
social vision. Thus, the split of 1 Kings 12 represents a d eparture
o f the com m unity of historical liberation from the ordering regim e
o f David. It is im portant th at the split did n o t happen over a theo
logical dispute; n o r was it simply a gradual growing apart; rather, it
was triggered by a concrete issue o f political oppression and social
liberation. T here is no doubt that the royal consciousness was com
m itted to the m aintenance o f o rd er at the cost o f justice. This is not,
of course, to claim that the n o rth ern kingdom did n o t practice sim
ilar oppression as under Ahab, bu t the n o rth ern kingdom appears
to have been peculiarly open to an d vulnerable to the transform ing

im pact o f the Moses tradition.
This entire phase o f Israel’s history is easily understood as a con
frontation o f kings an d prophets, thus continuing the claims of the
Davidic-Solomonic com m itm ent to order and continuity and the Mo
saic affirm ation o f freedom even at the cost of discontinuity. We may
m ention four occasions o f the traditions in conflict, in which these
trajectories are at work.
1. T he confrontation o f E lijah/A hab (Jezebel) in 1 Kings 21 is
nearly a p u re paradigm o f the issue. Elijah stands in the old tradition
o f “inh eritan ce” (nahalah), whereas the royal figures are com m itted
to the right o f royal confiscation that overrides older inheritance
rights (yarns) ,43 T h e p ro p h e t appeals to the unfettered work o f Yah
weh th at calls kings to accountability and dism antles kingdom s (w.
17-19), w hereas the king utilizes m echanizations o f the torah for the
sake o f royal interest. Elijah believes that covenant curses follow vio
lations o f torah, even against the royal person, whereas Ahab believes
the torah is only a tool o f royal policy.
2. T he confrontation betw een Amos and Amaziah (Amos 7:10-
17) is o f the sam e character. Amos speaks against any who violate
torah44 o r who try to stop the free word o f Yahweh, even if it touches
the king. By contrast, Amaziah does no t doubt the authority o f torah
b u t believes the royal reality has immunity. Thus, the king’s world
has created a situation in which there is no transcendence outside
royal m anagem ent to which appeal can be m ade. It follows that there
is no free God who can evoke o r sanction radical social change, pre
cisely the situation ph araoh wished for in the Egypt o f the th irteen th
century.
3. T he confrontation o f Isaiah and Ahaz (Isa. 7:1—9:7) is som e
w hat different because Isaiah is n o t so unam biguously placed in the
Mosaic trajectory45 though o f course he does affirm a transcendence
beyond royal p erception in his use o f the key words “glory” (kabdd)
43. Questions of literary history and unity in the narrative are difficult. See
Odil H. Steck, Oberlieferung und Zeitgeschichte im der Elia-Erzahlungen, WMANT 26
(Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1968), 40-53; and Georg Fohrer, Elia,
ATANT 53 (Zurich: Zwingli, 1968), 24-29.
44. On Amos and the torah, see Robert Bach, “Gottesrecht und weltliches Recht
in der Verkundigung des Propheten Amos,” in Festschrift Gunther Dehn (Neukirchen-
Vluyn: N eukirchener Verlag, 1957), 23-34.
45. T hat the Isaiah traditions will not fit any neat scheme is evidenced by the de
cision of Gerhard von Rad (Old Testament Theology [London: Oliver and Boyd, 1965]
2:147-75) to place him in the Jerusalem tradition. For a more refined judgm ent,
an d “holy” (qados). Thus, it is no t quite so clear that his position

in the face o f the king is so unam biguously critical. N onetheless, he
calls the king to radical faith (7:8) an d urges the king to a wholly new
perception o f reality that calls the king ou t from his self-securing
posture.
T he resolution of the u n it on the Syro-Ephraimite W ar (Isa.
9:2-7) dem onstrates the delicate balance worked by the prophet.
T he future is indeed Davidic, with appeal to the royal promissory
tradition rooted in 2 Samuel 7. T he prom ise indicates enorm ous
confidence in the royal tradition an d royal institution, for it makes
reference to Yahweh’s unreserved com m itm ent to this institution.
Thus, the expectation o f the p ro p h e t (if it is in fact his poetry) is
very different from the radicalness o f Amos. Amos, in extraordinary
boldness (now placed after the Amaziah en c o u n te r), h ad finally said
“en d ” (qes).46 T here had never been a pro n o u n cem en t m ore radi
cal than this. In a different way, Isaiah in his appeal to the Davidic
prom ise concludes “no e n d ” (’en qes) (v. 6).47 (If, as some argue,
Amos is com m itted to the Davidic reality, then his word is against
the n o rth and no t in conflict with Isaiah; bu t that seems unlikely,
even if Am os’s words refer to the north.)
4. A final exam ple we cite o f the tension o f traditions in this pe
riod is in the poem o fje r. 22:13-19 in which Jerem iah contrasts two
kings, Jehoiakim and Josiah. Jehoiakim , so quickly dismissed by the
D euteronom ist (2 Kings 24:1-7), is presented as an em bodim ent of
royal self-serving, dom inated by injustice and unrighteousness. The
son practiced oppression and violence; the father cared for the poor
and needy—that is, he understood covenantal knowing. T he poetry
o f Jerem iah (passing over the death o f Josiah) presents him as “well,”
th at is, faithful in covenant, and Jehoiakim as destined to an igno
ble d eath (which did n o t happen). T he poem is n o t a re p o rt on
which h ap p en ed but a projection o f what may be anticipated from
the tradition.
see Odil H. Steck, “Theological Streams of Tradition,” in Tradition and Theology in

the Old Testament, 193—94.
46. Ronald Clements (Prophecy and Covenant, SBT 43 [London: SCM, 1965], 39-
43) has observed that the drastic announcem ent of an end represents a new radical
announcem ent in Israel.
47. It may, of course, be too subtle to relate the “end” of Amos to the “no en d ” of
Isaiah, for Isaiah clearly refers to Davidic Israel, while Amos presumably refers to the
northern kingdom. See also Frank Criisemann, “Kritik an Amos in Deuteronomistis-
chen Geschichtswerk,” in Probleme Biblischer Theologie, ed. Hans Walter Wolff (Munich:
Kaiser, 1971), 57-63.
Old Testament Literature and the Sociology of Ancient Israel
Special note should be taken o f Josiah, who occupied a crucial

place in this p erio d n ear its end and who also holds an enigmatic
position between the traditions. O n the one hand, he is dearly a
Davidic figure. His credentials are unquestioned, and his conduct <>l
office shows he did n o t flinch from that role. O n the o th er hand, it is
equally clear th at unlike almost every o ther David, he subordinated
his Davidic role to the claims o f torah. In term s o f traditions that
concern us, the Davidic claims are subordinated to Mosaic claims.<H
T he contrast o f Jehoiakim {lo-sedeq, lo-mispat) an d Josiah (mispat,
sedeq) articulates well the trajectories o f the older period. Jehoiakim
is obviously a p ractitioner o f the same oppression as the city-kings
an d no d o u b t h ad a theology o f o rd e r to legitim ate it. Josiah, from a
religion o f torah, engages in political practice quite in keeping with
the liberation m ovem ent o f Moses.
It is possible th at the trajectories in this period can be discerned
in th e variant expressions o f the norm ative tradition designated J
an d E. T h ere is little d o u b t th at J is an attem pt at unitive and com
prehensive theologizing, concerned both to secure the place o f the
Davidic house in norm ative theology and to make cosmic claims in
term s o f linking Jeru salem ’s centrality and creation theology.49 Con
versely, th e E tradition, to the extent it is a distinct and identifiable
piece, is a separatist statem ent concerned for the purity o f the com
m unity a n d aware o f the th reat o f syncretism.50 Clearly, purity is no
concern o f J, an d unitive issues are rem ote to E. Thus, the old trajec
tories o f m arginal people with a prim ary concern for freedom and
established people with a large concern for stability are reflected in
the shape o f the J an d E traditions. T he m ain issue, in term s of com
m unity identity (south an d n o rth ), com m unal function and office
48. It is clear that the Davidic promises do not function in the poetry of Jeremiah.
Indeed it is precisely his opponents who continue to rely on them. And in the
Deuteronomistic Historian, surely closely related to Jeremiah, the balance between
Mosaic and Davidic factors is in dispute, but there is little doubt that the Mosaic
tradition is decisive. The situation is quite different in Ezekiel, as Levenson has
shown.
49. See Walter Brueggemann, “David and His Theologian,” CBQ 30 (1968): 156-
81; idem, “From Dust to Kingship,” ZAW 84 (1972): 1-18; and Walter Wifall, “Gen
6:1-4: A Royal Davidic Myth?” B T 5 (1975): 294-301; idem, “The Breath of His
Nostrils,” CBQ 36 (1974): 237-40.
50. See Hans Walter Wolff, “The Elohistic Fragments in the Pentateuch,” in Tht
Vitality of Old Testament Traditions, by Walter Brueggemann and Hans Walter WolIT
(Adanta: Jo h n Knox, 1975), 67-82; and Alan Jenks, The Elohist and North Israelitr
Traditions, SBLMS 22 (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1977).
k
(king and p ro p h et), and tradition (J and E), stayed alive until the
loss o f Jerusalem .51
IV
T he next period we may identify is that of the exile, for which the
conventional dates are 587-537 b .c .e . Even if those dates are som e
w hat problem atic, this period presents an identifiable crisis an d a
responding literature th at perm its disciplined consideration.
It is clear that with the crisis o f 587, the faith trajectories we have
p resented are thrown into disarray. This is the case particularly with
the M osaic-prophetic covenantal trajectory that seems now to have
failed. From the perspective o f the norm ative literature of the Old
Testament, the preexilic period is dom inated by the Mosaic trajec
tory, with the royal alternative subordinated (though undoubtedly
flourishing in practice). With the exile, we may in broad outline
speak o f an inversion of the traditions so that the Mosaic them e is
in crisis and is apparently less germ ane, while the prom issory royal
tradition now becomes the dom inant theological m ode for Israel.
In recent scholarly discussion, the following are relevant to our
them e:
1. T he D euteronom ic corpus, either shaped or revised in the
exile, represents an insistence u p o n the Mosaic way o f discerning
reality and its insistence on radical obedience.52 It is a call for radi
cal obedience to torah, an em brace of Yahweh’s will for justice with
appropriate sanctions (positive an d negative) for obedience. Thus,
it continues the urg en t call for purity (2 Kings 17:7-41) with its
m ilitant, uncom prom ising social vision.
Following G erhard von Rad, it has been argued that Davidic
them es o f assurance are also present in the corpus.53 These may per
haps be found in the conclusion o f 2 Kings 25:27-30, o r in the three
51. See J. A. von Soggin, “Ancient Israelite Poetry and Ancient ‘Codes’ of Law,
and the Sources of ‘J ’ and ‘E’ of the Pentateuch,” VTSup 28 (1974): 193-95.
52. The most recent discussion is that of Werner E. Lemke, “The Way of Obe
dience: I Kings 13 and the Structure of the Deuteronomistic History,” in Magnolia
Dei, 301-26, unambiguously placing the Deuteronomistic Historian in the tradition
of Moses and the prophetic demand for obedience. Lemke further develops the
direction of WolfFs important essay.
53. Gerhard von Rad, Old Testament Theology (New York: H arper and Brothers,
1962), 1:334-47. See my derivative discussion, “The Kerygma o f the Deuteronomistic
Historian,” Int 22 (1968): 387-402.
texts now generally regarded as later additions (Deut. 4:29-31; 30:1-

10; 1 Kings 8:46-53).54 It is possible that these somewhat tone down
th e uncom prom ising rigor o f the literature, but it is equally clear
that they do n o t m easurably affect the main them e of the piece,
namely, Yahweh’s will fo r a com m unity o f obedience an d justice.
T h ere can be no d o u b t that this prim al liberation word o f Moses
has now h ard en ed into an ideology. It serves as a critique o f com fort
able, culture-accom m odating religion, w hether toward Babylonian
im perialism or C anaanite city-kings. Thus the call for repentance
and disengagem ent from culture-religion persists.
2. In sharp contention with th at trajectory, two pieces o f litera
ture growing o u t o f the prom issory tradition are rooted in an o th er
view o f reality. First, Bertil Albrektson has argued th at Lam enta
tions is a response to the harshness of Deuteronom y.55 In the poetry
o f Lam entations, appeal is m ade to the claims o f Jerusalem . Thus,
Lam entations casts itself m uch m ore willingly upon the graciousness
and freedom o f Yahweh, the abiding faithfulness o f Yahweh th at is
unconditional an d unreserved. T hat m odest affirm ation (3:22-24)
cannot be derived from the abrasion and urgency o f the Mosaic tra
dition b u t appeals to an alternative theological m odel m ore likely
ro o ted in the confidence o f the Jerusalem traditions and institutions.
Thus b o th th e assurance o f 3:22-24 and the confidence o f 3:31-33
ap p ear to be echoes o f the prom ise of hesed in 2 Sam. 7:11-16. The
allusions to the royal psalms, which Albrektson has noted, strengthen
th e likelihood o f such an appeal.
In a similar th o u g h m ore frontal way, the poem of Job may be
u n d erstood as a p ro test against the crisp certitude o f the D euteron
omistic H istorian. If in d eed the D euteronom istic H istorian can in
m oralistic simplicity reduce everything to discernible m oral causes,
Jo b counters with an awareness that life will not be so easily ex
plained, th at mystery moves in ambiguity and lack o f clarity, an d that
G od in freedom has o th er concerns than exact response to hum an
behavior.56 Thus the God o f Jo b is n o t inordinately preoccupied with
54. See Hans Walter Wolff, “The Kerygma o f the Deuteronomistic Historical
Work,” in The Vitality of Old Testament Traditions, 91-97.
55. Bertil Albrektson, Studies in the Text and Theology of the Book of Lamentations
(Lund: Gleerup, 1963), 214-39.
56. The fact that both Job and the Deuteronomistic Historian have im portant
connections with Jerem iah make it quite plausible that Job is grappliiig with the is
sues forced by the Deuteronomist. Cf. James A. Sanders, “Hermeneutics in True and
False Prophecy,” in Canon and Authority, ed. George Coats and Burke Long (Phila
delphia: Fortress, 1977), 28: “Job was surely written in part to record a resounding
“the hum an condition.” T here is no do ubt th at Jo b protests the

m oral singularity of his friends, who speak out o f a perspective no t
unlike that o f the D euteronom istic Historian. T he speech o f Yahweh
completely rejects those categories.
T he rootage o f the alternative perspective o f the p oet is n o t so
easy to identify. We may note two attem pts p ertin en t to our inves
tigation. Sam uel Terrien has located the poem o f Jo b in the new
year festival in the Babylonian exile as a paracultic dram a of one for
whom history no longer holds any prom ise.57 T he innocent sufferer
“has lost all, and for all practical purposes o f historical realism, he
has died, b u t will live again by faith.”58 Terrien sees th at an appeal to
the creation myths (older than Israel’s historical m em ories) makes
possible “a poetic discussion of the theology of grace.” In d eed the
p o et presents him self as “theologian o f p ure grace, over against the
fallacies of proto-Pelagianism.”59 T hus the basic them es of the reli
gion o f the city-state, a royal person and a creation myth, surface
h ere as resources for Israel w hen the historicizing morality o f the
D euteronom istic Historian has failed. Such a difference o f trajectory
is apparent, even if linkage o f the poem of Jo b to a historical crisis
cannot be sustained.
From a quite different perspective, Cross has reached conclusions
similar to those o f Terrien.60 Ύ3ΐΜε1ι the Lord o f history has failed
to act. El o r Baal, the transcendent creator spoke.”61 In Job, opines
Cross, the ancient myths regained their m eaning. Cross draws the
radical conclusion th at Job b ro u g h t the ancient religion of Israel to
an en d and evoked the resurgence o f the oldest pre-Israelite myths,
precisely those myths to which the creation faith o f Israel m ade
appeal.
We should n o t neglect the sociological im plication o f the em
brace o f older myth at the expense o f historical self-awareness in a
time o f crisis. N eedful though th at choice was in exile, such a deci
No to such inversions o f the Deuteronomic ethic of election.” T here is, to be sure,

a counteropinion among scholars that it is not possible to link, the poem of Job to
any specific historical situation. See especially J. J. M. Roberts, “Job and the Israelite
Religious Tradition,” ZAW 89 (1977): 107-14. Even if that be granted, the religious
tendency of the poem is surely in a direction other than that o f Deuteronomy.
57. Samuel Terrien, “The Yahweh Speeches and Job’s Responses,” RevExp 68
(1971): 497-509.
58. Ibid., 508.
59. Ibid., 498.
60. Cross, Canaanite Myth, 343-46.
61. Ibid., 344.
Old Testament Literature and the Sociology of Ancient h uiel »)
sion is inherently socially conservative. T here is not within ι)ι<· icitii n

to myth th e nerve or energy to take the actions that would u.m slnnn
historical circum stance. Indeed, it was the rejection of those vnv
myths th at p erm itted the Israelite novum in history and religion
Conversely, such a “theology o f grace” contains within it the a< ( ep
tance o f things as they are, and there is here no call to repentant e
in term s o f historical engagem ent. Thus, from one perspective, Job
reacts against th e passionate stridency o f the Deuteronom istic 1listo
rian th at knows too m uch an d asks too m uch. O n the o th er hand,
J o b ’s position reduces historical nerve and asks an em brace of help
lessness in the face o f the terro r o f history and the hiddenness of
God. T hus, J o h n A. Miles Jr., in a socially conservative position albeit
faithful to Job, sees that “there was truth in what had been excluded,
an d in the book o f Jo b th at truth returns.”68 T he p o et is challenged
to retain the old knowledge against the new; and the old knowl
edge is th at God is n o t always victorious and “J o b ’s com forting is
a play ab o u t the re tu rn o f the truth that God and natural reality are
inextricably o n e.”64
T h e trajectories are clear in the apparent tension between Job
and th e D euteronom istic Historian. Jo b does indeed rep resen t the
“old tru th ” th at oppressive life m ust be accepted as ordained, surely
a com fort in exile, while the Deuteronom istic H istorian bears the
“new tru th .”65 Exile brings these truths to sharp conflict, the one
offering assurance o f grace, the o th er the urgency o f repentance.
Exile may be read, then, either as a destiny to be em braced or as a
historical situation to be transform ed.
3. Second Isaiah, it is com m only agreed, is the poetic m atrix in
which th e crisis o f the trajectories receives a new articulation.66 In
62. The break and the discontinuity caused by the emergence of Israel have been
stressed by Mendenhall. See Tenth Generation, 1-19, and "Migration Theories vs.
Culture Change as an Explanation for Early Israel,” SBLSP (1976): 135-43. The
problem with a history-of-religions approach to these issues is that it is ideologically
and methodologically committed to continuity as the primary agenda.
63. Jo h n A. Miles Jr., “Gagging on Job, or the Comedy of Religious Exhaustion,”
Semeia 7 (1977): 110.
64. Ibid., 110-13.
65. The “new truth” o f the Mosaic revolution contrasts with the “old truth” of
which Miles writes. W hen the old imperial gods are embraced, Social stability is
assured. Freedman (“Divine Names and Titles”) identifies Judges 5 as among the
poems o f “militant Mosaic Yahwism.” It is the coming of the new God, unknown in
the empire, that causes a new social possibility.
66. Deutero-Isaiah has the capacity to utilize all the various traditions. Sec von
Rad, Old Testament Theology, 2:238-43.
an earlier essay,67 B ernhard A nderson showed the extent to which

Deutero-Isaiah utilized the exodus traditions to announce th at his
own tim e was a time like th at of Moses, in which Israel as a newness
in history had been willed by God. Thus Second Isaiah is a state
m en t ab out historical redem ption, m aking ready use o f the Mosaic
tradition.
M ore recently and with m ore precise focus on covenant, A nder
son has concluded that it is the A braham ic/D avidic covenant that
dom inates Second Isaiah.68 Moreover, “the Mosaic covenant is ap
propriately absent from Second Isaiah’s prophecy, for obedience to
com m andm ents is n o t regarded as a prerequisite for blessing and
welfare.”69 “The ground for hope, therefore, is no t a change on the
side o f m an but, so to speak, on the side o f God.”70
Second Isaiah is the prim ary locus in Scripture where the tra
jectories do com e together in a remarkably synthetic way. Both the
history-transcending God o f Job a n d the m ilitant historicality o f the
D euteronom istic H istorian come to positive expression. But on bal
ance, A nderson has rightly discerned that the prom ises o f God are
the ultim ate word o f the poet. Thus, Second Isaiah shows how it was
necessary in the exile to make a m jyor reorientation in traditions
an d move the norm ative faith o f Israel from the o n e trajectory to
th e other.
In Second Isaiah, as in Job, creation them es reshape Israel’s
m em ory and hope according to the Jerusalem trajectory. It is the
royal them e o f A braham /N oah/D avid that gives the poetry o f Sec
o n d Isaiah its energizing power.71
A nderson’s stress makes it unm istakable that in exile the Abra-
ham ic tradition has gained a new centrality that tilts the religion of
Israel essentially toward prom ise. In th at context, we should note
the bold proposal o f Van Seters that the A braham m aterials were
67. Bernhard W. Anderson, “Exodus Typology in Second Isaiah,” in Israel’s Pro

phetic Heritage, ed. Bernhard W. Anderson and Walter Harrelson (New York: Harper
and Brothers, 1962), 177-95.
68. Bernhard W. Anderson, “Exodus and Covenant in Second Isaiah and
Prophetic Tradition,” in Magnalia Dei, 339-60.
69. Ibid., 356.
70. Ibid., 355.
71. It is the faithfulness of God to which appeal must be made in exile. In the
categories of Freedman, now Israel must speak of “divine commitment” and not of
“hum an obligation.” On the abiding hesed of Yahweh to his people, see Otto Eiss-
feldt, “The Promises o f Grace to David in Isaiah 55:1-5,” in Israel’s Prophetic Heritage,
177-95. While the point of the connection is unclear, the oracle of 55:3 is not
unrelated to the anticipation o f Lam. 3:22-24.
fo rm ulated in this perio d to m eet the situation of dislocation.72

T h at perhaps claims too m uch. We can observe that the theologi
cal inventiveness o f the period shows a tendency to retu rn to the
royal-creation-promise tradition with its social conservatism, the very
tradition th at the “new tru th ” of Moses challenged.
4. Finally for this period, we should note the way in which Hans
W alter Wolff73 has ju x tap o sed the traditions of D and P in the ex
ile. H e begins with th e two-sided covenant formula: “I will be your
God an d you shall be my people,” and argues that P and D, re
flecting th eir two trajectories, each stress one part o f the formula.
P gives em phasis to “I will be your God,” and D stresses ‘You shall
be my p eo p le.” T h at is a fair sum m ary o f the issue in the ex
ile. Obviously, b o th statem ents b ear a truth and bo th are essential
in exile. T he alternative stress indicates not only a different theo
logical reading o f the prom ise and o f the resources bu t also a
very different sociological analysis o f w hat is required an d what is
possible.
V
T he final perio d we shall consider, the postexilic period, may be
briefly m en tio n ed by reference to the work of Paul H anson.74 H an
son has presen ted a m ajor proposal, adm ittedly too schematic, for
organizing the postexilic literature o f the canon. H e proposes that
the beg in n in g p o in t for understanding this literature is the dialectic
Deutero-Isaiah articulated between vision and reality.
In th e perio d after Deutero-Isaiah, various social groups in Is
rael each em braced a p a rt o f the dialectic an d m ade that part its
standing gro u n d for faith and literature. Thus, Second Isaiah pro
vides poetic an d theological rationale for b o th the “pragm atists” and
the “visionaries.” For H anson, the pragmatists are identified as the
group in power, cen tering aro u n d the accom m odating priesthood in
Jerusalem . T he visionaries are those groups now shut ou t o f power
an d driven to ho p e in a new act of God that would invert histori
72. Van Seters, Abraham in History and Tradition. Aside from the specific critical
judgm ents he makes, Van Seters has made a strong case that a situation of exile
and a theology of promise are precisely appropriate to each other.
73. Hans Walter Wolff, The Old Testament: A Guide to Its Writings (Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1973), 32-44.
74. Paul Hanson, The Dawn of Apocalyptic (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975).
cal reality and bring them to power. This latter group, pressed by its
“world-weariness” to apocalyptic, may be identified with the circles
o f the Levites who were previously influential and now h ad becom e
increasingly marginal.
H an so n ’s work utilizes the sociological paradigm o f Karl M ann
heim with its definition o f ideology as a self-serving justification for
th e status quo and utopia as the passionate hoping for an alternative
future. In presenting such a paradigm , H anson limits his attention
to rootage in Second Isaiah and does n o t go beh in d this literature
for his purposes. But for o u r purposes, it is im portant to observe
th at Second Isaiah is not the first articulator n o r the inventor o f this
dialectic. It lies deep and old in the tradition o f Israel. Thus the “vi
sionaries” an d “pragm atists” o f the postexilic period continue, in a
way appropriate to their tim e and place, the same stances already
discerned in the hopeful liberation m ovem ent o f Moses an d the
accom m odating, em bracing creation-royal faith o f the Davidic cir
cles. T he visionaries continue the hope and passion o f the liberation
tradition th at believes that the p resen t o rd e r is sharply called into
question by G od’s promises. T he pragmatists continue the confident
affirm ation of the present as the p ro p e r ordering willed by God, per
haps to be gradually changed but on the whole to be preserved. It
is the substantive connections between the work o f Gottwald and
M endenhall in the early period, Cross in the history o f the priest
hood, an d especially H anson in the later period th at perm it us to
speak of trajectories.
VI
We may th en suggest a schem atic way in which the trajectories can
be understood. A trajectory, o f course, is n o t a straitjacket into which
every piece o f data m ust be m ade to fit, but it helps us to see the ten
dencies th at continue to occur and to observe the influences that
flow from one period to another. Over the five periods we have
considered, generally following the periodization used by recen t
scholars in delim iting their work, the continuities may be outlined
in the form o f a table (see table 1).
Up to this point, scholars have focused on the tension in var
ious periods. M endenhall an d Gottwald have concentrated on the
early period, Cross on the m onarchal period, and H anson on post-
exilic developm ents. T he p oint argued h ere is that continuities may
Table 1
CONTINUITIES OVER THE FIVE PERIODS
I. Mosaic period II. The united III. Divided IV. Exile V. Postexilic
(emergence of monarchy monarchy (traditions period
liberation) (“paganiza- (the clash of in crisis)
tion”) traditions)
A. imperial Zadok: the royal history P: “I will be Zadokite

power and Aaronite your God” priesthood:
city-kings priesthood, pragmatists,
royal the urban “haves,”
ology, and scribes,
creation faith comfortable
syncretists
(Ezekiel 44)
2 Isaiah
1 Kg 21: “Look to the
Ahab/Elijah Rock from
which you
Amos 7:10-3 7: were hewn”
Amaziah/ (51:1)
Amos
Isa. 7:1—9:7: “Behold, I

Ahaz/Isaiah am doing a
new thing”
Jer. 22:13-19: (43:18)
Jehoiakim /
Josiah
B. revolt of Abiathar: prophetic D: ‘You Levitical

peasants the Mushite alternatives will be my priesthood:
priesthood people” visionaries,
peasant
“have-nots»”
apocalypticists,
waiting purists
(Isaiah 60-62)
be traced th ro u g h the various periods in each o f the strands, thus

perm itting us to term them “trajectories.”75
75. Steck (“Theological Streams of Tradition”) has pursued a parallel investigation

utilizing the word “stream.” However, Steck’s presentation tends to identify so many
diverse streams that the concept is diffused. Here I suggest that several o f Ste 9k’s
streams might be considered together as belonging to the same general context.
Table 2
COMMON ELEMENTS IN THE TRAJECTORIES
A. The Royal Trajectory B. The Liberation Trajectory

(1) prefers to speak in myths of unity (1) prefers to tell concrete stories of
liberation
(2) speaks a language of fertility (2) speaks a language of war and

(creation) and continuity (royal discontinuity
institutions)
(3) preferred mode of perception is (3) preferred mode of perception is

that of universal comprehensiveness that of historical specificity
(4) appears to be fostered by and valued (4) appears to be fostered by and valued
among urban “haves” among peasant “have-nots”
(5) tends to be socially conserving with (5) tends to be socially revolution

a primary valuing of stability ary with a primary valuing of
transformation
(6) focuses on the glory and holiness of (6) focuses on the justice and
God’s person and institutions geared righteousness o f G od’s will
to that holiness
Moreover, we may suggest, again in quite schematic fashion, com

m on elem ents th at appear continuously in each o f the trajectories.
(Some o f these are presented in table 2.)
To the extent that this schematic presentation is correct, it m eans
that these tendencies will be found a t every period in the appro
priate trajectory. A history-of-traditions approach m ust include a
sociological analysis so th at we are aware o f the social function of
each of the traditions, the authority assigned to it, the claims m ade
for it, an d power an d social vision deriving from it.76
76. An im portant resource for further investigation is the book edited by Douglas
Knight, Tradition and Theology in the Old Testament. Knight’s own essay, “Revelation
through Tradition,” suggests the decisive way in which the traditioning community
is engaged in the process of trajectory development.
VII
It is perhaps p rem ature to speak o f the em ergence of a new para
digm for scholarship, b u t there are hints in that direction.77 It is
clear th at the o ld er syntheses are now generally perceived as inad
equate. This applies n o t only to the evolutionary schem e o f Julius
W ellhausen b u t in a less incisive way also to the credo-tradition hy
pothesis o f von Rad.78 Evidences o f the em erging consensus aro u n d
this provisional paradigm are as varied as Claus W esterm ann’s pro
posal o f a contrast o f blessing a n d salvation79 and the suggestive title
o f Cross’s statem ent, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic. W esterm ann,
in a program m atic way, has shown that blessing and salvation rep re
sent quite different theological worlds. He has n o t gone on to draw
sociological conclusions o r to suggest that O ld Testam ent in terp re
tation may be largely organized this way. Cross has finely shown the
dialectic o f epic th at seeks to be concretely historical an d myth that
moves in the direction o f syncretism. Cross m eans to move beyond
b oth the historical em phasis of the American and G erm an schools
and the mythic inclination o f the Scandinavians to show th at the
perspectives o f the two are mutually corrective.
1. It can be argued th at such a reading o f Israel’s faith an d his
tory is possible only by an appeal to a particular theory o f history.
A nd th ere is no d o u b t th at a Marxist class-reading of the Bible is
77. It is, of course, presumptuous to speak of an emerging paradigm. The defi

nitional statement of Thomas Kuhn ( The Structure of Scientific Revolutions [Chicago:
Univ. of Chicago Press, 1970]) has created a new awareness of the ways in which
scholarship changes a n d /o r advances. Gottwald (“Biblical Theology or Biblical So
ciology?” 52, 55) both critiques the paradigm of “biblical theology,” by which he
means a quite identifiable approach, and hints at the alternative informed by soci
ology. From quite another scholarly perspective, John Dominic Crossan (Raid on the
Articulate [New York: H arper and Row, 1976], xiv) suggests he is raising the question
of “a shift of the master paradigms of our research.” He quotes Kuhn in referring
to “a reconstruction that changes some of the field’s most elementary theoretical
generalizations as well as many o f its paradigm methods and applications.” Such
reasoning is not far removed from the issue raised by Gottwald in “Domain Assump
tions and Societal Models in the Study o f Pre-monarchic Israel.” While both Crossan
and Gottwald may speak o f a shift of paradigms, the substance of their urging is in
quite divergent directions.
78. It is likely that Gottwald’s critique of the paradigm of “biblical theology” refers
especially to the m ethod and synthesis achieved by von Rad. Brevard Childs (Bibli
cal Theology in Crisis [Philadelphia: Westminster, 1970]) has presented a formidable
critique o f that synthesis.
79. Westermann has developed this dialectic in various writings, but his major
presentation is in the Sprunt lectures, in which he contrasts the saving and blessing
of God. Most telling is his assertion that the God who blesses cannot fail or suffer.
Such a conclusion has enorm ous sociological implications.
n o t u n related to this paradigm . C oncerning the early period, Gott

wald acknowledges this influence a n d makes a deliberate use of
such a fram e o f reference.80 C oncerning the later period, H anson
is decisively guided by the conceptualization o f Karl M annheim .81
Having acknowledged the influence (explicit or not) o f this
theory o f society, several com m ents are in order:
a. T h ere has been some critical objection to the use o f such a
m odel for interpretation. Alan H auser82 has objected to the decisive
role played by a Marxist m odel. M ore judiciously, Brian Kovacs83 ob
served th at by the use o f M annheim ’s m odel, H anson has b een led to
an d p erm itted certain conclusions that would have been very differ
e n t given a different sociological m odel. Undoubtedly, m uch m ore
testing rem ains to be done, an d a clear consensus in this direction
is far from established.
b. It will, o f course, be tem pting to dismiss the entire approach
by a rejection of Marxist presuppositions.84 In response to such a
criticism, R obert McAfee Brown has rightly said that the real issue
is n o t if Marxist categories may be used b u t if the presentation and
discernm ent are correct in term s o f the data an d if the categories
serve responsible interpretation.85 W hen that question is answered,
the issue o f Marxist presuppositions becom es largely irrelevant.
c. Most importantly, it will n eed to be recognized again th at there
is no “presuppositionless” exegesis. It is n o t a m atter o f using Marx
ist categories or continuing “objective” interpretation. T he paradigm
suggested here requires that the critical guild becom e aware o f its
own categories and, indeed, o f its own “em bourgeoisem ent.”86 For
exam ple, H auser seems quite unaw are of his own presuppositions
80. Most evident in his utilization of the “Asiatic mode of production.”

81. Hanson, Dawn of Apocalyptic, 213-20.
82. Alan Hauser, “Israel’s Conquest of Palestine: A Peasants’ Rebellion,” JSOT 7
(1978)·. 2-19.
83. Brian Kovacs, “Contributions o f Sociology to the Study of the Development of
Apocalyptic,” paper read at the 1976 meeting of the Society of Biblical Literature.
84. See, for example, the review by John L. McKenzie of the book of Jose
Miranda, JBL 94 (1975): 280-81.
85. Robert McAfee Brown, “A Preface and a Conclusion,” in Theology in the Amer
icas, ed. Sergio Torres and John Eagleson (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1976), xvii: “But
the im portant question is not, ‘Is liberation theology’s analysis tinged with a Marxist
hue?’ The im portant question is, 'Is the analysis true? Does it make sense of what it
is describing? Do we understand the world better when we look at it in that way?’ ”
86. The term is from Helmut Gollwitzer, “Kingdom o f God and Socialism in the
Theology of Karl Barth,” in Karl Barth and Radical Politics, ed. George Hunsinger
(Philadelphia: Westminster, 1976), 105.
and seems to im agine th at his own critical approach is socially disin
terested. In this view, Jo h n McKenzie seems also to m isunderstand
an d to deliver a polem ic against Marxist categories w ithout dis
cern in g what the argum ent is about. T here is no do u b t that every
paradigm , th at o f W ellhausen, von Rad, o r any other, including this
one, contains presuppositions that govern interpretation. Thus, the
p resen t sociological discussion presses herm eneutical considerations
even u p o n o u r m ore “objective” work in literature an d history.87
2. T he trajectories suggested h ere may illum inate the various
alternatives in cu rren t theological discussion. Most broadly, the al
ternatives may be g rouped in term s o f process herm eneutics and
liberation herm eneutics.88 In terms of o u r previous discussion, pro
cess theologies may be generally placed in the trajectory o f royal
theology, which is concerned with large com prehensive issues, which
regards th e concreteness of historical m em ory as a m atter o f little
interest, and which is concerned with the continuities o f the p ro
cess. C u rren t scholarly investigation within this trajectory (a) is likely
seeking m eaningful interface with current cultural forms; (6) is m ost
likely to be lodged in university contexts and their epistemologi-
cal com m itm ents an d n o t prim arily interested in the form ing o f
the synag o g u e/church as an alternative and distinct com m unity of
faith; a n d (c) is likely to have an in h eren t bias toward social conser
vatism. O f course, persons engaged in this scholarship may in d eed
be fo u n d elsewhere, b u t the reference group is likely to be the same.
It is equally clear that persons in this scholarly tradition may them
selves be con cerned for an ethical radicalness, b u t it is n o t likely to
be ro o ted in this epistem ological tradition.
We may cite o ne example, the ju d g m en t of Miles about the “old
tru th ” th at “G od a n d the harshness o f nature, though they may no t
be O ne, are n o t separable.”89 Such an affirm ation clearly inclines to
seeing God simply as p a rt o f the process and runs the ready danger
o f giving sanction to the way things are because they cannot in any
case be changed. O f course, Miles does not even h in t at such an ex
trapolation. T h e slide from n ature th at is n o t separable from God
87. For a persuasive critique of ideological objectivism, see Alvin Gouldner, The
Coming Crisis of Western Sociology (New York: Basic Books, 1970).
88. O n an attem pt to engage the two perspectives, see Burton Cooper, “How Does
God Act in America? An Invitation to a Dialogue between Process and Liberation
Theologies,” t/SQR 32 (1976) : 25-35. See also Robert T. Osborn, “The Rise and Fall
of the Bible in Recent American Theology,” Duke Divinity School Review 41 (1976):
57-72.
89. Miles, “Gagging on Job,” 110.
an d cannot be changed to history understood the same way, how

ever, is n o t a difficult one. Such an understanding of the trajectory
does not, o f course, imply a criticism of the persons who work in
the trajectory, for they themselves may be passionate in o th er direc
tions. T he Tendenz itself inclines toward u n in terru p te d developm ent.
Moreover, that Tendenz has a rem arkable capacity to co-opt a n d con
tain the specific angularities o f the o th er tradition, as, for example,
Solom on containing the ark in the temple.
3. Conversely, the various liberation theologies in their epistemo-
logical abrasiveness likely may be located on the trajectory rooted in
Moses. They are inclined to focus on the concreteness o f historical
m em ory an d regard m ore sweeping, unitive statem ents as less im por
tan t an d com pelling. C urrent scholarly work in this trajectory (a) is
likely n o t so directly concerned with contact with cultural forms and
values b u t is addressed to a particular faith com m unity living in un
easy tension with the d om inant cultural forms a n d values; (b) is m ost
likely to be lodged in a confessing com m unity o r a school of it (it is
inclined to be concerned prim arily with the faithful effectiveness of
the confessing com m unity and to believe that the d om inant ratio
nality will perm it no ready point o f contact w ithout co-opting; and,
if the scholar is lodged in a university context, it is still likely the
case th at the m ain referent is a confessing group); and ( c) is likely
to have an intrinsic bias toward social, ethical radicalness; this does
n o t m ean, of course, that in every case the person involved is socially
radical, for h e or she may in fact b e conservative; b u t the practice of
this scholarship will predictably lead to the surfacing of such issues,
even w ithout the person intentionally doing so.
T he pursuit o f this paradigm o f trajectories from early Israel
until cu rren t scholarship, inform ed as it is by sociological consid
erations, is im portant in two ways, both affirming th at there is no
disinterestedness in the text or in the interpreter. Such a paradigm
will perm it texts to be understood m ore effectively in term s o f their
placem ent in Israel’s faith and life an d in the traditioning process.
Such a paradigm will regularly force m ore attention to the interest
and herm eneutical presuppositions of the in terp reter and his and
h e r com m unity o f reference. T he pursuit of these trajectories may be
a m ajor service biblical study can offer to colleagues in o ther disci
plines, for it may provide ground from which to do serious criticism.
This discernm ent m ight lead one to expect a very different kind of
scholarship, each faithful to a stream of tradition, d epending on the
context of the interpreter.
2_____________________
Covenant as a Subversive Paradigm
I t IS A BIT IRONIC th at increased attention is being paid to the

biblical them e o f covenant ju st at a time when biblical scholarship
is moving on to o th er constructs for interpretation. Clearly, “cov
en an t” is n o t the single overarching them e of the Bible as previously
claimed. Nonetheless, it has im portant potential for the church in
o ur situation. T h e central affirm ations o f covenant stand against and
subvert th e d o m inant forms, patterns, and presuppositions o f our
culture a n d o f cultural Christianity. T he subversion (which m eans
un d erm in in g an d exposure to dism antling) is directed against a the
ology th a t knows too m uch, a God who is too strong, a ch u rch th at
is too allied w ith trium phalist culture, an d a ministry th at moves too
m uch from strength.
Against all o f these, the covenant them e offers an alternative per
ception o f how things are in heaven and how they could be on
earth. C ovenant as a recharacterization of God, church, an d world
is n o t simply a restatem ent o f conventional W estern assumptions; it
requires drastically new affirmations. A ttention to the them e exposes
the failure o f a rem ote G od who has n o t trium phed, a church that
has n o t known so m uch, a n d a culture that has n o t kept its promises.
A God Who Embraces

Everything depends on o u r confession of God. T he covenanting God
of the Bible is n o t to be understood according to the general cate-
43
g°ry “god.” Making a theoretical case that this God is unique is no t

necessary; it is enough to note th at in the Bible this God makes a
break with all cultural definitions and expectations and stands dis
tant from the o ther gods who are preoccupied with their rule, their
majesty, their well-being in the plush silence o f heaven. This is n o
where m ore vividly stated than in Psalm 82, in which the general
self-serving notion of godhood is harshly rejected. T he tem ptation
of the church is to force this G od back into conventional modes.
But the stories o f Israel and the c h u rch ’s m em ories will n o t have it
so. T h at deep resistance to general categories is m ost im p o rtan t to
those who care for the stories an d m em ories o f the church.
In th e tradition o f Moses, an d from th en on, this God breaks
with the o th er gods, finding their com pany boring and their preoc
cupations inane. The heaven occupied by the o th er gods is no place
for covenanting. Those gods offer no m odel for faithful interrelat
edness, for steadfast solidarity, b u t only for occasional self-serving
alliances. T he prim al disclosure o f the Bible is that this God in
heaven makes a move toward earth to identify a faithful covenant
partner, responding to the groans o f oppressed people (Exod. 2:24-
25). We say it is an irreversible move. A nd the p artn e r now em braced
is identified as the “rabble” o f slaves th at n o o th er god thought
“worthy” (Exod. 12:38; Num. 11:4; cf. Luke 7:22-23; 1 Pet. 2:9-10).
This move is decisive n o t only for earth b u t for heaven; no t
only for the slaves em braced bu t for the God who em braces. It is
central to covenant that this O ne cannot em brace w ithout being
transform ed by the ones who are em braced. T here is n o im m unity
for God here; em bracing a p artn er is n o t an afterthought but is def
initional for God. And the evidence of Scripture is that Israel and
the church continued to battle for this discernm ent o f God, always
against the tem ptation to drive God back to heaven, to squeeze God
back into the safety, serenity, a n d irrelevance o f the o th er gods. And
th at is still the decisive battle in th e church.
A New Beginning
T h e break that God makes is to leave the self-sufficient world o f the
gods for the sake o f groaning humanity. It is the key disclosure to
Moses, w ithout which there would be no exodus. Israel is invited
to b reak with pharaoh's “sacred canopy” o f oppression precisely be
cause this God has m ade a break with the boredom o f the canopy of
Covenant as a Subversive Paradigm 45
heaven. And while th at disclosure moves through the long m em ory

o f Israel and the church, no n e has understood it in greater depth
than Hosea. It is h e who penetrates to the h eart of God, who u n d er
stands th a t G od struggles against conventional godhood (Hos. 11:8),
an d w ho finally decides n o t to operate by conventions, either o f
heaven o r o f earth (11:9).
T hese verses show H osea in deep conflict with the m odel of a
God who strikes back w hen offended for the sake o f G od’s own ma
jestic self-definition. But this God does n o t and will n o t do that. A nd
th e u p sh o t of th e anguish o f this G od in H osea is th at covenant is
possible, n o t because of a suitable p artner b u t because this God has
broken with conventions to new kinds of solidarity:
I will allure her to the wilderness [and begin again];

I will speak to her heart [and start over]; . . .
I will betroth you to me in righteousness,
injustice,
in loyalty,
in mercy,
in faithfulness,
and you shall know me. (Hos. 2:14, 19-20)
This anguished p o e t affirms th at there is a new beginning possi

ble on earth. It is possible because God in heaven has com m itted all
godhood to the wayward partner. God has no o th er claim to make,
n o special exem ptions, b u t stays with the sorry partner; in the pro
cess, b o th are changed. H osea has understood as well as anyone th at
G od’s com m itted grief fo r the p artn er is the only g ro u n d for new
ness on earth. T h at is the g round now to be confessed, proclaim ed,
an d practiced am ong us.
W hat a God!
He was despised and rejected by men and women,

acquainted with grief,
as one from whom they hide their faces.
He was despised and we esteemed him not. (Isa. 53:3)
This G od bears n o n e o f the marks o f a god. This God has given up

power in the certainty th at real saving power is found in uncom pro
mising faithfulness, the very posture the other gods in heaven could
n o t countenance.
Everything Is at Stake
Perhaps th at is too familiar to us, so familiar we miss how subver
sive it is. To test its subversive im pact, one n eed only teach it and
p reach it. For it represents a break with conventional theology. It
calls into question the self-sufficiency o f God, the entire catecheti
cal tradition o f a God w ithout solidarity with earthly partners whom
this God values and makes valuable. The conventional God o f the
catechisms makes all the caring moves after everything is settled and
th ere is n oth in g at stake for the Strong O ne. But h ere it is affirm ed
th at n o t everything is settled in advance. Very m uch is at stake for
God— godhood itself is recharacterized and redecided in com pany
with an d in the presence o f the m ixed m ultitude.
T h at is the deep issue in covenant. Does one (God o r hum an)
com e to the covenantal relationship with everything settled? O r does
one com e with everything to be redecided? B oth postures are of
fered in the Bible, bu t it is this radical posture o f Moses an d Hosea
th at has the possibility of subverting the death systems around us.
Everything is at stake in this question. C ovenant requires a radi
cal break n o t only with uncritical, scholastic notions o f G od b u t also
with contem porary views th at vote for detachm ent. O u r cu rren t con
sum er culture has need o f an irrelevant God for whom noth in g is at
issue, a kind o f indifferent, im m une guarantor. Such a God is chal
lenged an d destroyed in the claim o f covenant. T he alternative God
o f the Bible is im pinged u p o n and exposed. T here is no im m une
quarter, no answer in the back of the book, no safe conduct.
Everything is at stake because how we ju d g e it to be in heaven is
the way we im agine it to be on earth. If o u r m istaken notion leads
us to an impassive, self-sufficient God in heaven, th en the m odel for
humanity, for Western culture, for ourselves, is th at we should also
be self-sufficient, impassive, beyond need, n o t to be im posed on.
Willy-nilly, we will be m ade in the im age of some God. T he o n e for
whose image we have settled is a sure, trium phant God who runs no
risks, makes no com m itm ents, em braces no pain that is definitional.
Against that, the covenanting God of the Bible protests an d invites
us to protest.
L et n o n e am ong us im agine that the right discernm ent o f God
does n o t matter. On that point, everything is at issue in a culture
now in deep failure. T he question is w hether there is an alternative
affirm ation to make that can let us recharacterize how it is in heaven
and how it m ight be on earth. Hosea stands as an assertion that only
in this alternative God is there ground for hope, possibility for pas
sion, an d energy to keep on. It is no different in the New Testament:
“This m an receives sinners and eats with them ”— that is, makes cov
en a n t with them (Luke 15:2). This God prefers covenant partners
with w hom things are yet to be decided, rejecting a situation—in
heaven o r on earth —w here nothing is in question. In such contexts,
it is im possible to be genuinely hum an—or faithfully divine.
A Community on Earth
Along th e way we can redecide o u r notion of church. T he covenant
construct perm its us an d requires us to think afresh about the char
acter an d business o f the church. T hat is, the move God has m ade
in heaven opens u p for us a new agenda: W hat is possible on earth?
G od’s move to solidarity is a h in t th at solidarity on earth is possible.
A nd th at covenantal them e perm its a new ecclesiology. T he church
is the com m unity attentive to the dangers and possibilities o f soli
darity in a culture th at thrives on and celebrates o u r divisions and
isolations.
Said a n o th er way, there will be no new com m unity on earth until
th ere is a fresh articulation o f who God is. W hat the church can be
depends on that. T here will be no com m unity on earth so long as
we rally ro u n d old God-claims o f self-sufficiency and om nipotence.
A nd th e reason is th at self-sufficient, om nipotent, isolated, impas
sive people (reflective o f such false gods) are incapable o f being in
com m unity o r em bracing any solidarity.
T he prom ise o f the new com m unity on earth is m ade especially
by Jerem iah: “Behold, the days are coming, says the Lord, w hen I
will m ake a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house
o f J u d a h ” (31:31). It is im portant that Jerem iah, m ost anguished of
the prophets, speaks this hope, for only one in anguish could hope
so deeply. It is equally im portant that he speaks this anticipation pre
cisely at a time o f historical brokenness when there seems no ground
for hope. T he new com m unity he anticipates is n o t to be derived
from th e old shattered one. It depends only and singularly on a new
move from God, a response to groans. It is this move th at makes
possible what was n o t possible before the groans were received and
em braced.
T hat, o f course, is n o t very realistic sociology. But new com m unity
is proclaim ed in the Bible on the basis of the new move from God,
ju s t at the time when the best possibilities o f sociology are exhausted.

We are in such a time now, when there is no sociological possibility
ab o u t which to speak. So we are pressed to speak to each o th er about
this m ost unlikely thing, a move o f solidarity m ade by God, a move
th at m akes all things new on earth—even hum an covenanting.
Large Human Questions

T he new com m unity now to be proclaim ed an d called into being
bears at least three marks, according to Jerem iah.
1. It is a community of God’s torah: “I will p u t my torah in their
m idst” (31:33; the translation “within them ” is excessive personal
izing). T h e new covenant anticipated h ere is one whose co n ten t is
to rah (to which we do a disservice if we re n d er it “law”). Torah that
m arks th e new comm unity is not a practice o f law to clobber people,
n o t a censure to expel an d scold people, n o t a picky legalism. It is
ra th e r a release from small moralisms to see things through th e eyes
o f G od’s passion and anguish. T he torah is a rem inder th at G od’s
will focuses on large hum an questions an d th at we also may focus on
weighty m atters o f justice, mercy, an d righteousness.
T h ere are seeds here for genuine reform within the community,
a reform o f com m unities o f indifference that do n o t care m uch about
anything except their own well-being. Torah turns the com m unity
from self to the neighbor. And there is a call h ere away from com
m unities o f triviality that im agine too m uch is at stake too soon and
too often in every question that comes up. T he torah o f the biblical
G od is n o t written in fine p rin t o r with footnotes. It is there in its
rich, bro ad claims for holiness and justice. Foundational torah calls
this com m unity away from its self-serving fascinations.
2. T he new com m unity o f covenant is in solidarity about the knowl
edge o f God: “They shall all know m e, from the least of these to the
greatest” (Jer. 31:34). “Knowing G od” is crucial for covenanting.
Since this God has m ade a move to earth, there is no knowledge
o f God that can focus on the things o f heaven to the disregard o f
th e affairs of earth. And, conversely, there is no preoccupation with
the things of earth w ithout awareness that disruptive covenanting has
caused a break in heaven.
Knowledge of God calls this com m unity away from its many o th er
knowledges that betray and divide. Jose M iranda has m ade clear that
“knowledge o f G od” is attentiveness to the needs o f brothers and
sisters (Jer. 22:13-17) ,1 H e does n o t m ean that this derives from

o r com es after knowledge o f God; rather, the two are synonymous.
O ne could scarcely im agine a m ore radical and subversive theologi
cal claim. A nd the m atter is the same in the new com m unity o f the
New Testam ent. Love o f G od is intimately and inextricably linked to
loving b ro th e r and sister (1 J o h n 4:20-21).
T he new “knowledge o f God” envisioned h ere does two things.
First, it m inimizes the im portance of m uch of our knowledge, our
expertise and professional skills (1 Cor. 13:2). A different kind of
knowing is what is needed. Second, the new knowledge now en
trusted to this com m unity (the very antithesis of gnostic secrets) is
radically dem ocratized. T h e least as well as the greatest shall know.
T h e strong an d th e weak know together (see Rom. 14:1-23). T he
credentialed a n d the uncredentialed share the gift. T he word to the
strong in th e com m unity is th at the weak ones know some very im
p o rtan t dim ensions o f the news, to which we m ust all attend. T he
word to us all is th at within the church there are n o m onopolies
o n this knowledge, n o t by wealth o r longevity or gender o r anything
else. D em ocratizing knowledge in the com m unity is a th reat to all of
us who preside over the establishm ent, for we have long known that
knowledge, even in the church, is power.
But the knowledge now broadly entrusted is n o t ju st “personal
experience,” n o t a subjective inclination about this o r that. It is a
discernm ent o f the “news,” o f the gospel, o f the move God has m ade
to earth w here the torah is given. In New Testam ent categories, the
knowledge com m only entrusted to us is knowledge of the cross, a
sense ab o u t how the em pty cross bestows life. T h at is a knowledge
th at is deeply subversive an d now definitional for covenant.
3. T h e th ird m ark o f the com m unity envisioned is th at it knows
about, experiences, and practices forgiveness: “I will forgive their iniquity
an d I will rem em ber their sin no m ore” (Jer. 31:34). It is n o t Lu
th eran reductionism to say th at the single crucial sign o f the church
is th e practice o f forgiveness. And th at m eans at least two things.
First, th e past should be past. O u r posture toward each o th er should
n o t be a grudging, careful m anagem ent of old hurts bu t ra th e r a
genuine yielding o f the past for a hope.
Second, forgiveness is n o t simply a “spiritual” n odon biit includes
a genuine redistribution o f power. O u r com m unides are often or
ganized by bad m em ories, configurations o f mistakes, and seasoned
1. Jose Miranda, Marx and the Bible (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1974).
fears. T he com m unity o f forgiveness m eans a redress o f pow er in

which the weak and the strong, the least and the greatest, really
derive their life from each o th er (see Mark 10:42-44).
O f course, these marks o f the covenant com m unity are n o t new
am ong us. But they characterize a subversive ecclesiology in deep
conflict with o u r conventions. It is im portant to see how extensively
o ur usual notions of com m unity are refuted h ere—notions eith er o f
com m unities of fate (into which we are locked w ithout choice) o r of
convenience (in which we have no serious or abiding stake). Against
b o th o f those, we are to have a called com m unity—no t a voluntary
association bu t a people addressed an d b o u n d in a concrete and
abiding loyalty.
Covenant for the World

Finally, we may rearticulate our covenantal hope for the world. So
long as this subversive paradigm is kept to God and church, we
are safe enough. Its character o f surprise and threat becom es clear
when the covenant is related to the world beyond the believing com
munity. T he covenantal paradigm affirms that the world we serve
and for which we care is a world yet to be liberated. A theology
of covenanting is n o t worth the effort unless it leads to energy and
courage for mission.
So we are pressed to ask: W hat m ight be expected yet for the
world? T he response is that the world is intended by God to be a
com m unity th at covenants, th at distributes its produce equally, that
values all its m em bers, an d th at brings the strong a n d the weak to
g ether in com m on work a n d com m on joy. T hough it is n o t yet that
kind o f community, we are assured th at soon o r late it will be (see
Rev. 11:15). And the mission o f the believing com m unity is to ar
ticulate, anticipate, and practice the transform ation th at is sure to
come.
In the tradition o f Hosea and Jerem iah, here we may appeal es
pecially to Isaiah o f the exile. O ne m ight have expected a p o e t to
exiles to be preoccupied with that little com m unity dealing with its
own identity and survival. But this p oet has a large vision indeed.
A nd so his words serve to extend and urge the vision o f Israel away
from itself to the world in which it is placed. T he word spoken here
begins with a statem ent about G od’s move, “I am the L ord,” and goes
on to call to Israel, who is given for others. But finally, as Israel looks
beyond itself, th e covenant passes to the world o f need, darkness,
an d prison (Isa. 42:6-7; 49:6).
T h e p o et will n o t perm it Israel to think too long about itself. And
so h e uses the w ord “covenant” precisely to speak about mission to
others. T he crucial phrase is enigmatic, “a covenant to the people.”
How is this people to be linked to the o ther people? In covenant?
As covenant? It suggests, perhaps, that Israel is a mediator toward the
others, so th at th ro u g h Israel the other peoples receive the blessings
o f God. O r perhaps the call is to act as the partner, to be in solidarity
with those others who are still alienated.
To Know, to Hope, to Expect

W hat is in any case clear is th at covenanting becomes a way to think
ab out th e nations an d kingdom s o f the earth, a way requiring risk,
em otion, an d solidarity. Covenanting, it is believed and affirm ed in
this poetry, is the way all o f society is intended to be with its m arkings
o f justice, freedom , abundance, and compassion. And the people ad
dressed by the p o e t are to work toward th at transform ation an d n o t
give u p on th e world.
T h a t is, th e faithful com m unity knows som ething about the
world, hopes som ething for the world, and expects som ething o f the
world. W hat it knows an d hopes and expects is that the world is to
be transform ed. T hat is in itself no m ean ministry: to know, to hope,
an d to expect. A nd that, perhaps, is the m ost im portant an d m ost
subversive thing the church can now do: to refuse to give u p on the
world an d its prom ised transform ation. Those who are victimized by
the world in its p resen t o rd e r need m ost o f all voices o f assurance
th at w hat now exists is n o t the way of the future. Such a voice is al
ways subversive because it goes against o u r usual presuppositions and
against the way the present o rd e r wants us to think. We have grown
so accustom ed to the disorders and inequalities th at beset us th at we
do n o t expect it to be otherwise. And th at is because we believe the
w orld to be autonom ous, set o n its own course, with no possibility of
transform ation o r intervention. We act as though the world gets to
vote o n its long-term future.
We have grown accustom ed to the ways in which institutions are
self-serving, in which every institution serves prim arily its functionar
ies in o rd e r to preserve jo b s an d enhance personal well-being. This
is tru e o f governm ent, court, school, hospital, an d church. Because
the forms o f public life are so com plex, we despair of change. We

expect ourselves and certainly others to be exploited. A nd we do n o t
im agine that it can be otherwise.
B ut against all that, this poet o f the exile, who knew ab o u t the
pathos o f Hosea and the prom ise o f Jerem iah, flings his dangerous
words. H e conjures life alternatively as a genuine hom ecom ing. He
asserts th at a condition o f alienation and displacem ent is n o t our
final destiny; there will be a hom ecom ing o f transform ation. And
th e com pany and followers o f this p o e t (which m eans us) keep the
d ream alive. Surely he had to speak o f things he did n o t understand.
B ut he clearly believes (1) that the world is n o t closed, fixed, or
settled; (2) that institutions can be changed an d transform ed; and
(3) th at com m unities of people can be practitioners o f o th er ways
o f living.
T he entire poetry o f Isaiah o f the exile has a tilt toward freedom
an d liberation and justice. Those are the ingredients o f a covenanted
hom ecom ing. His lyrical envisioning o f a new possibility is given in
the presence of an d in argum ent against the Babylonian gods, Baby
lonian kings, and Babylonian definitions o f reality (see chaps. 46 an d
47). This subversive poetry has an unavoidable political realism. It
knows th at the yearned-for liberation will n o t happen until th ere is
a dism antling o f im perial definitions of reality. T h at is where the
missional activity o f Israel is called to be—defiandy a n d buoyantly
against every im perial definition o f reality. A nd so h e speaks with
nerve an d authority, believing that his speech is n o t idle o r futile but
th a t it plays a p a rt in the dismantling.
We live in a time o f dom esticated hopes, weary voices, a n d co
o p ted im aginations. Now is n o t a good time to jo in issue with the
enslaving structures o f the day (see Amos 5:13). A nd those who have
w orked a t such a calling lately have good reason to stop in futility.
But the p o et knows better. T he p o e t knows that, even in a world
like ours, songs m ust be sung, dream s m ust be kept, visions m ust be
practiced. And none o f it yields to the despairing cynicism that the
Babylonians want so m uch to encourage.
T here is in this poetry no large o r sustained strategy. We may
n ote two simple features that likely are decisive. First, in the fam iliar
words o f 52:13—53:12, the world is to be transformed precisely by one
who is deformed (53:2-3). And his deform ing is for the “many” who lie
beyond th e im m ediate com m unity (see 53:11-12). Thus, we m ust be
asking ab o u t deformity. Second, in the derivative song o f 61:1-4 (cf.
Luke 4:18-19), it is by the action of the spirit that the dream is m ounted
and practiced. A nd w here the spirit is quenched, there the mission

is dom esticated.
The New Covenant

T he th ree belong closely together: a God who makes covenant by
m aking a move toward the p a rtn e r (Hos. 2:14, 18-20); a community
th at practices covenant by the new forms o f torah, knowledge, an d
forgiveness (Jer. 51:31-34); an d a world yet to be transform ed to
covenanting, by the dism antling o f im perial reality (Isa. 42:6-7; 49:6).
T h at is how the battle is jo in ed . These alternatives given us in the
p ro p h ets are subversive. They m ean to controvert conventional, non-
covenantal loyalties. These three elem ents belong together an d are
inseparable. A nd they are entrusted to o u r ministry. These affirm a
tions were a fragile m inority rep o rt in ancient Israel by this line of
prophets, who h ad so little power in their time. T he likes o f Hosea,
Jerem iah , an d Isaiah in exile m attered litde. These affirm ations are
a fragile m inority re p o rt when they come to em bodim ent in Jesus
o f N azareth, who h ad so little power. And they also are no less a
m inority re p o rt in the fragility o f o ur com m on ministry.
W hat we have claim ed for these three poets is n o t new. B ut th at
makes it no less urgent. And the question presents itself: How do we
stay at it? How do we n o t yield these radical convictions? I subm it
th at it is in this: these subversive alternatives of G o d /ch u rch /w o rld
m ust b e k ep t close to the eucharistic table where we eat an d drink
in covenant. T he cup p o u re d out for you is the new covenant in my
blood (Luke 22:20); this cup is the new covenant in my blood (1 Cor.
11:25). W henever we eat this bread and drink this wine, we engage in
a subversive m inority report. Precisely because of being broken and
p o u re d out, this bread a n d wine will never be fully accom m odated
to th e interests of the old age. T he world wants the bread unbroken
an d the wine still filling the cup. T he world yearns for unrisking gods
and transform ed humanity. But in o u r eating and drinking at this
table we know better. We will n o t have these subversive alternatives
re n d ere d void.
U ndoubtedly covenantal discernm ents will becom e m ore danger
ous in tim e to com e as resources shrink, as we grow m ore fearful, as
o u r public world continues to disintegrate. And therefore it is very
im p o rtan t th at we d o n o t lose heart. Everything is at stake.
3___________________
Covenant and Social Possibility
T h e LAST GENERATION of O ld Testam ent studies, largely

through the work of George M endenhall1 an d Klaus Baltzer,2 has
established not only th at covenant is a pervasive biblical notion
b u t also that this “religious them e” carries with it im portant socio
econom ic, political counterparts. To the extent that covenant asserts
w hat is distinctive in the Bible, it requires different thinking about
God and different acting in the world.
I
T he Bible is a dispute about the identity and character o f the true
God. Israel’s life is initiated an d sustained by Yahweh, the giver o f
life. But Israel is always tem pted and seduced by alternative gods and
loyalties (see Hos. 2:8). T he polem ical question is always, “To whom
will you com pare me? W ho is like Yahweh?” (Exod. 15:11; Isa. 40:18;
44:7).3 T he answer of course is that there is n o God like Yahweh,
1. George Mendenhall, Law and Covenant in Israel and the Ancient Near East (Pitts
burgh: Biblical Colloquium, 1955); idem, “The Conflict between Value Systems and
Social Control,” in Unity and Diversity, ed. Hans Goedicke and J. J. M. Roberts (Bal
timore: Johns Hopkins Univ. Press, 1975), 169-80; and idem, The Tenth Generation
(Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univ. Press, 1973), chaps. 1, 7, 8.
2. Klaus Baltzer, The Covenant Formula (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1971).
3. See C. J. Labuschagne, The Incomparability of Yahweh in the Old Testament
(Leiden: Brill, 1966).
54
Covenant and Social Possibility 55
who is th e God who intervenes powerfully on behalf o f the p o o r and

the m arginal in the face o f oppressive power. Such a claim is at the
center an d h eart o f the biblical assertion. This God is no t known in
any speculative o r theoretical way b u t always through acts o f social
intervention and inversion th at create possibilities of hum an life in
contexts w here the hum an spirit has been crushed (see Isa. 57:15)
and h u m an possibility choked off.
T h ree examples of this strange solidarity that Yahweh shows for
the weak against the strong:
1. The Song of Moses (Exod. 15:1-18) is commonly regarded as
a very early liberation song that narrates the entire early m em ory
o f Israel.4 T he concrete claim is that Yahweh has trium phed over
horse a n d rid er (v. 1), who are in fact the im perial masters of
the Egyptian em pire (v. 4). T he outcom e o f the trium ph is that
the im perial slaves are given a hom eland (v. 17). Between the tri
um ph an d the settlem ent is the doxology of verses 11-12, which
celebrates the distinctiveness o f Yahweh, the only one who enacts
such a transform ational possibility in the face o f im perial power.
2. In Isaiah 46 the same contrast of the gods is offered. T he gods
o f Babylon are nam ed only to be ridiculed as powerless. They cannot
save (v. 2). T he contrast is m ade with Yahweh who can “carry, bear,
carry, save” (v. 4). In d eed it is this God who has sum m oned Cyrus
(“b ird o f prey” [v. 11]) to p u t an end to the Babylonian em pire and
who creates new life for the exiles. T he indignant, polem ical ques
tion of com parison occurs again in verse 5. T he contrast is clear and
sharp. T he gods o f the em pire are too enm eshed in silver and gold
(that is, surplus value [v. 6]) and so have no power to save. By con
trast, Yahweh has no involvem ent with such surplus value b u t has
power to save. As the gods o f Babylon are allied with the oppressive
state th at guards the surplus value, so Yahweh is allied with the lib
erated possibility o f hom ecom ing. T he absence o f silver an d gold is
related to the pow er to save (on which see Acts 3:6) and the power
o f the church to heal.
3. T he dispute am ong the gods is m ost clearly articulated in Psalm
4. O n the primal character o f this song and its liberation tendency, see David N.
Freedman, “Divine Names and Titles in Early Hebrew Poetry,” in Magnolia Dei: The
Mighty Acts of God, ed. Frank M. Cross, Werner E. Lemke, and Patrick D. Miller Jr.
(Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1976), 57-60, 85-98; and Patrick D. Miller Jr., The
Divine Warrior in Early Israel (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univ. Press, 1973), 113-17.
On the liberation trajectory of the Song of Miriam, see Gail R. O ’Day, “Singing
Woman’s Song: A Hermeneutic of Liberation,” CurTM 12 (1985): 203-10.
82, a m ore form al encounter. T he high God (Yahweh) puts the o th er

gods on trial for their refusal to act like real gods. In verses 3-4, a
proposal is offered for what constitutes “godness”:
Give justice to the weak, and the fatherless;

maintain the right of the destitute and the afflicted.
Rescue the weak and the needy,
deliver them from the hand o f the wicked.
T h en the psalm goes on to ju d g e an d condem n those gods who will

n o t engage in this action of solidarity.
T hese three texts (Exod. 15:1-18; Isaiah 46; Psalm 82) sum m arize
the biblical polem ic that contrasts Yahweh with the o th er gods. To
be sure, the term “covenant” does no t occur in these texts, but o u r
them e o f covenant does n o t adm it o f a simple lexical analysis.® W hat
we notice in all o f these texts is th at Yahweh is a God who forcefully,
decisively, and willingly enters into solidarity with a group of helpless
people. T h at solidarity is fo r the benefit of people who cannot act
for themselves. T hat solidarity is an act o f risk for Yahweh, for it puts
Yahweh in conflict with o th er gods and with the awesome power o f
the em pire. It is this act o f enduring, risky solidarity th at m ost de
cisively characterizes the G od o f the Bible. In all parts o f th e Bible,
this solidarity marks G od’s person and shapes history. Even if it is no t
lexically explicit, that capacity and willingness o f God to e n te r into
enduring, risky solidarity are what we m ean by covenant. T he God of
the Bible is a God who makes covenant. T he object o f th at solidarity
is characteristically the weak, poor, and m arginal, who w ithout such
a p a rtn e r have no voice o r visibility in history as it is ordered by the
em pire. Thus, it is in the very character o f this God to be engaged
for and available to those w ithout social power o r social possibility.6
It is this m ark o f God that gives revolutionary im petus to the witness
of biblical faith.
To characterize God as the one who makes an d keeps covenants
has im m ediate theological implications: (1) It m eans that issues o f
hum an justice and hum an dignity are always prim ary an d never
derivative o r optional. (2) It m eans that this God is best char
5. James Barr, “Some Semantic Notes on the Covenant,” in Beitrage zur Alttes-
tamentlichen Theologie: Festschrift fiir Walter Zimmerli zum 70. Ceburtstag (Gottingen:
Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1977), 23-38.
6. For a fine summary of this data, see Thomas Hanks, God So Loved the Third
World: The Biblical Vocabulary of Oppression (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1983).
Covenant and Social Possibility •>7
acterized in relational, political categories and not in the con

ventional theological categories of self-sufficiency, such as om nipo
tence, om nipresence, an d omniscience, o r in private categories of
psychological-spiritual inclination. N either set o f such categories ex
presses th e radical historical, relational character o f Yahweh. (3) It
m eans th at this God is characteristically in profound tension with
the o th e r gods, each o f which tends to be a legitim ator o f im perial
power o f one kind o r another. In challenging the gods, Yahweh also
enters in to tension with oppressive power in the world.
This characterization o f God is central and decisive for the Bible.
T hough the categories have shifted, I subm it th at this characteriza
tion o f God becom es decisive for the identification o f Jesus in the
Gospel tradition. In Luke 7:18-22, Jo h n the Baptist asks for evidence
th at Jesus is “the o n e who is to com e.”Jesus provides no data for such
classical categories b u t affirms that “the blind receive their sight, the
lam e walk, lepers are cleansed, an d the deaf hear, the dead are raised
up, th e p o o r have good news preached to them ” (v. 22). This line
o f reasoning is co n g ru en t with the Old Testam ent we have cited.
W here th ere is intervention on behalf o f the powerless, the holy,
covenanting power o f G od is at work. This radical liberation ten
dency belongs to an d is derived from the central covenant texts o f
the Bible. Covenanting is an assertion that vulnerable relationships
of solidarity constitute an alternative way to organize the world. It
is evident th at n o t all parts o f the Bible share in this perspective. In
the O ld Testam ent, the traditions o f creation, monarchy, an d wisdom
presen t a very different sense o f God. They do no t fit easily in the
paradigm o f covenant. I suggest this is im portant evidence that even
in the Bible itself, the radical subversive notion of G od as a covenan
ter is in dispute. To give the covenant them e emphasis is faithful to
a m ain p a rt o f the Bible, b u t the emphasis reflects at the same time
a quite im p o rtan t interpretative decision. It is to decide th at o f all
the things the Bible has to say about God, this one is ju d g ed to be
norm ative. This is a perfectly legitim ate decision, b u t it is n o t the
only possible one.
II
T he idea of covenant is n o t simply a discussion an d clarification
ab out th e character o f God. Israel understands that every notion of
God carries with it a proposal for the organization o f society. Thus
A Social Reading of the Old Testament
the theological revolution articulated in Psalm 82, where Yahweh as

serts a new m ode of “godness,” carries with it revolutionary ideas of
society w hen the community is organized aro u n d th e m etaphor of
covenant.
T h e social radicalness o f covenant had already been recognized
by M artin Buber, who presented the covenant m aking a t M ount Sinai
as the enactm ent o f the kingship o f Yahweh, which im plied the dele
gitim ation of every other political authority.7 T he covenantal notion
th at Yahweh is king (and Israel is Yahweh’s kingdom ) is a peculiar
juxtaposition o f a religious term , “God,” and a political category,
“kingdom ,” so th at the rule of Yahweh is given political, social con
creteness. Israel’s public life in political an d econom ic relations is
to em body the covenantal solidarity Yahweh practices toward Israel
in th e exodus, in answering its cry of helplessness an d hopelessness
(Exod. 2:23-25).
It has been N orm an Gottwald m ore than any o th er scholar who
has seen the far-reaching im plications o f covenant in relation to so
cial theory.8 Gottwald’s controversial (but I believe com pelling) pro
posal is th at early Israel introduced covenant practice and covenant
theory as an alternative to the statism known both in the Egyptian
em pire and in the Canaanite city-states. T hat statism was a system
o f adm inistering land and people for the sake o f a socioeconom ic
monopoly, so that some (peasants) worked for the production of
surplus value to be enjoyed and controlled by others who did no t
work.9 In presenting this hypothesis, Gottwald rejects the evolution
ary hypothesis that the covenant com m unity “developed” into an
em pire an d asserts the counterproposal that Israel as a covenanted
com m unity represents a radical, intentional, ab ru p t break in social
organization. Israel is “a social experim ent” in the world of the an
cient N ear East to see if a com m unity can be organized in egalitarian
(covenantal) patterns, in resistance to the hierarchal, bureaucratic
m odes o f the world o f the city-states. T he alternative m odel o f so
cial organization seeks to distribute power so that all m em bers are
7. Martin Buber, Kingship of God (New York: H arper and Row, 1967).
8. Norman Gottwald, The Tribes of Yahweh (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1979).
9. O n the futility curses, see Delbert R. Hillers, Treaty-curses and the Old Testament
Prophets (Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1964), 28-29. It is necessary not only
to recognize the form o f the futility curses but also to note their social function.
The curses themselves anticipate a social system that makes life difficult because of
usurpation and confiscation. Conversely, the nullification of such curses (Amos 9:14;
Isa. 65:21-22) concerns a new social system that does not practice such usurpation.
treated with dignity, so th a t all m em bers have access to social goods

a n d social power.
We may identify three blocks of texts that illum inate the thesis
th at covenantal social theory intends a just, egalitarian social order
an d process.
1. T h e narrative justification for such a social possibility is laid
down in strid en t term s in Exodus 1-15. To be sure, covenant is
n o t explicitly m en tio ned here. But it is the dram atic move o f Is
rael, generation after generation, to assert the possibility o f such a
community. T he dram a begins in the oppression o f Israel (chap. 1)
and ends with the celebration o f freedom from bondage (15:1-18,
21). T he narrative moves from oppression to freedom by way of
the sum m ons to Moses (chaps. 3-4), the announcem ent o f Yah
w eh’s intentionality (3:1-14), an d the contest betw een Yahweh and
the em pire (chaps. 5 -11), until it is asserted that Yahweh makes a
distinction in b eh alf o f Israel (11:7) and that Yahweh fights for Israel
against Egypt (14:14, 25). Gottwald’s analysis asserts that the Israel
o f this narrative is n o t an ethnic com m unity bu t a social conglom
erate o f “tribes,” th at is, b o n d ed com m unities that have withdrawn
from the claims o f the em pire o r the city-state in o rder to organize
life differently.
Two observations may be m ade about this narrative foundation.
First, Yahweh is a key a n d decisive actor in the narrative. T here is
no d o u b t th at this is a theological report in which Yahweh evokes
an d legitimates the alternative com m unity o f justice. But it is equally
clear th a t this is n o t simply a religious account, for it has to do
with th e decisive delegitim ation o f an oppressive, noncovenanting
regim e. Second, while this narrative is rooted in concrete memory,
its shape a n d function are to serve liturgic reiteration and reenact
m en t so th at each new generation is inducted into the rage and
resen tm en t against totalitarianism , and into hope and buoyancy to
ward an alternative social possibility. Each new generation in Israel
is tau g h t to read social reality so that the justice questions, th at the
issues o f social power, social goods, and social access, are m ade m a
jo r com m unity issues an d m ajor concerns o f the God o f Israel. Israel
thus makes the justice issues central in its narrative o f God. T he is
sues are n o t extrinsic or optional b u t belong to the very core o f the
narrative.
2. T h e narrative o f Gen. 47:13-26 appears to be simply a telling
o f a land-organizing program . But in fact it is a sharp, partisan, an d
m ilitant piece o f social analysis and social criticism. It is placed as a
preface to the exodus narrative to explain how free Israel go t into

its situation o f econom ic bondage. T he process o f enslavem ent con
sists o f the way land is m onopolized through a totalitarian regim e
th at finally owns all the m eans o f production (land, cattle). Those
w ithout m eans o f production are reduced to helpless subjects of the
em pire.10
It is worth noting that this narrative (in contrast to the exodus
narrative) is p u re econom ic social analysis w ithout m ention o f God.
W hat Israel studies h ere is the way in which political power, no t
com m itted to covenantal norm s an d values, can reduce people to
servitude a n d helplessness.
3. O ne task that Israel practices in its texts is the retelling o f the
foundational narrative. T he o ther m ajor task portrayed is the build
ing o f social structures an d institutions that will order, sustain, an d
guarantee the covenant community. All the “torah-law” o f the O ld
Testam ent, in one way or another, is an attem pt to organize con
crete social relations around this radical theological vision. This is o f
course a long, com plicated process with successes and failures. But in
the end, I suggest, we should mostly be am azed at the achievem ent.
To be sure, Israel drew on legal, political traditions o f the N ear East.
But in its m ain enterprise, Israel sought to do som ething w ithout
p recedent, th at is, to o rd e r public life around the vision o f Yahweh’s
freedom and justice.
It is peculiarly the tradition of D euteronom y in which Israel ap
plies the notion o f covenant to social relations as a w arrant for
justice. T he legal tradition o f Deuteronomy 12-25 is n o t a neatly or
d ered statem ent, but it consistently bears witness to Israel’s radical
social vision.
a. T he tradition of D euteronom y opposes images and idols be
cause it knows that such religious equipm ent reflects surplus value
an d characteristically reflects m onopolies o f goods, land, an d wealth.
b. D euteronom y has a peculiar and persistent propensity fo r the
p o o r an d m arginal and continually urges generosity an d attentive-
ness toward widows, orphans, and sojourners, those who are legally
a n d economically disinherited.11
10. Richard Rubenstein ( The Age of Triage: Fear and Hope in an Overcrowded World
[Boston: Beacon, 1983], 34-97) has made a powerful argum ent that certain kinds
o f land management, even if legitimated by law, serve as interests of social control
and finally of triage.
11. O n this emphasis in the tradition o f Deuteronomy, see Moshe Weinfeld,
Deuteronomy and the Deu.Uronom.ic School (Oxford: Clarendon, 1972), 282-97. We-
c. D euteronom y takes special care to m aintain the value, dignity,
and respect fo r persons subject to abuse, including runaway slaves
(Deut. 23:15-16), day laborers (24:14-15), the poor who are indebted
(24:10-13), an d those subjected to public punishm ent (25:1-3).
d. Perhaps m ost interesting, D euteronom y is concerned to estab
lish institutions th at will o rd e r life in covenantal ways, for example,
kingship (17:14-20), prophecy (18:9-22), courts (17:8-13), an d cities
o f refuge (19:1-10).12 H ere the covenantal tradition is at its m ost
imaginative because it believed th at public power can an d should
be adm inistered in ju s t ways.
In com m enting on this ethic, we should m ention the rem arkable
analysis o f F ernando Belo,13 who has seen that the legal-covenantal
tradition o f d eb t cancellation stands in deep tension with the tradi
tion o f purity, which is characteristically a conservative social practice
designed to m aintain the status quo. We do no t pay prim ary atten
tion to th at legal tradition h ere because it appears to be in serious
tension with the central covenantal enterprise.
Ill
T h e m etap h o r o f covenant m ediates to us a very different mode of God,
one th at has broken with the scholastic categories of absoluteness for
the sake o f marginality. T hat same m etaphor m ediates to us a very dif
ferent notion of social life and social practice. It repudiates conventional
m odes o f social organizations that are exploitative and hierarchical
in favor o f equity, justice, an d compassion. The two m ediations (of
a different m ode of G od an d a different notion o f social life and
social practice) go together. T he absoluteness o f God is appropriate
for a society th at is structured in unequal ways and does n o t intend
to change. T he attentiveness of God to the m arginal, on the o ther
han d , is a w arrant for a social vision strongly attentive to marginal-
ity. But th e m etap h o r o f covenant offers no t only a general m odel
for G od a n d for society. It im pinges upon concrete situations, two o f
which we here consider.
infeld provides a most helpful summary, even if one does not follow his critical
assumptions.
12. N orbert Lohfink (Great Themes of the Old Testament [Edinburgh: T. and T.
Clark, 1982], 55-75) has argued that Deuteronomy offers a constitution for ordering
public life in an intentional way.
13. Fernando Belo, A Materialist Reading of the Gospel of Mark (Maryknoll, N.Y:
Orbis, 1981).
1. In Jer. 34:8-22, a crisis is reported in Jerusalem in the last days

before the Babylonian invasion. T he narrative account is presented
in three parts:
a. Verses 8-10 rep o rt that Zedekiah m ade a covenant an d all the
leading citizens jo in e d in th at covenant. T he substance of th a t cov
en an t is that all slaves should be set free o f their bondage. We are
n o t told why this radical decision is m ade at this critical point. But it
is im p o rtant that the vow of a covenant has the substance of liberation.
To m ake a social com m itm ent that is beyond conventional social ex
pectation in this way moves in the direction of valuing h u m an life in
new an d daring ways. Thus the vow itself is an im portant act o f cov
enantal im agination. In d eed the action in the context of covenant
w ent so far as genuinely setting the slaves free. W hen it is recognized
th at such slaves in ancient Ju d a h were likely people in bondage be
cause they were poor and could n o t pay their bills, it is clear th at this
act o f liberation implies cancellation of specific debts. T he action is
a decisive one concerning radical econom ic reorganization.
b. In verses 11-16, the citizens who had taken an oath and the ini
tial act o f em ancipation reneged on their prom ise an d their act. We
are n o t told how or why. T he “why” was probably th at the econom ic
risk proved either unthinkable o r unnecessary. So they cancelled the
em ancipation, voided the liberation, and b ro u g h t people back to
d eb t bondage. Clearly the covenant has b een violated.
W hat is m ost interesting about this account is that the rep o rt of
the renege is divided into two related parts. In verses 13-14, in this so
cial crisis, the p ro p h e t alludes to the paradigm atic covenant a t Sinai,
which is understood in relation to the liberation o f exodus. T he ju x
taposition of exodus and Sinai-torah m ade explicit here indicates
how the event of liberation and the social practice of covenant are fully
team ed together. Israel will no t have one w ithout the other. Libera
tion is n o t an event w ithout ongoing social implications. C ovenant is
a relationship no t o f control bu t o f liberation. This m em ory explic
itly quotes the torah provision that deb t slaves, no m atter how large
the debt, cannot be held in bondage over six years. T here are limits
to the costs the “have-nots” can be held to pay to the “haves.” T he
seventh-year liberation is an act o f equalization in which the balance
owed is simply cancelled. T he text adds tersely, “They did n o t do it.”
Israel has found its covenantal social vision too expensive a n d too
dangerous for the status quo.
T he contem porary situation o f the sixth century is juxtaposed to
th e exodus and Sinai m em ory in verses 14-16. W hat is fundam en
tal to Israel’s identity, nam ely liberation into covenant, is now an

im m ediate issue. Verse 15 describes the positive action taken:
You have repented,

you did what was right in my eyes,
you proclaimed liberty,
you made covenant
This fourfold list is w orth noting. T he repentance m eans to break

with the conventional social practice that causes some to subjugate
others for econom ic reasons. Ju d a h in this very particular case makes
a theological move th at is at the same time an econom ic, neigh
borly act. It is a God-focused act of obedience, “right in my eyes.”
Specifically, it is an act o f liberation, an act o f covenant. T he specific
obedience to the torah provision o f Deut. 16:1-8 is thus presented
as a reen actm en t of the old claim of exodus and Sinai. In specific,
the com m unity has decided to be Israel. T here is only one way to be
Israel: to un d ertak e covenant th at requires liberation.
T he negative co u n terp art o f verse 16 is an indictm ent. G od’s
nam e has been p rofaned by retaking the slaves (cf. Prov. 17:5; 14:51).
T he h o n o r o f G od’s nam e is established through the specific practice
o f n eig h b o r love.
c. T h e th ird elem ent, in verses 17-22, begins with the character
istically awesome prophetic “therefore.” T hen follows an extended
judicial sentence d om inated by G od’s first-person speech o f negative
intervention. Patrick D. Miller Jr. has shown how strict retribution
is enacted so th at the violation of covenant is m atched precisely by
punishm ent:14
You did not proclaim liberty.. . . I proclaim liberty of sword and famine.
You broke covenant___You will be like the covenant calf, cut in two.
In verses 20-25, Yahweh has declared war against Judah. T he viola

tion o f justice precludes peace either am ong the citizens o r between
Yahweh and the citizens. T he failure to keep covenant is m ade m ore
poig n an t by th e contrasting narrative o f chapter 35, which shows
w hat covenant obedience is in fact like. This counternarrative asserts
th at covenant is n o t an impossible religious dem and b u t a serious
social possibility Israel can in fact perform (cf. Deut. 30:11-14).
14. Patrick D. Miller Jr., Sin and Judgment in the Prophets (Chico, Calif.: Scholars
Press, 1982); idem, “Sin and Judgm ent in Jerem iah 34:17-22,” JBL 103 (1984): 611-
13.
T he covenant is em bodied in the act of liberating slaves. Viola

tion o f covenant consists in reclaim ing slaves and undoing liberation.
This leads to war declared by Yahweh against the covenant violators.
T he only way to peace with Yahweh (and we may believe in the com
munity) is the practice of liberating covenant in hum an transactions.
And th at requires dealing justly in the midst of social inequality.
2. T h e second concrete exam ple of covenant im pinging on the
public practice o f the com m unity is in Neh. 5:1-13. N ehem iah is
engaged in rebuilding the city o f Jerusalem , whose walls an d insti
tutions have long been in shambles. While the popular stereotype o f
N ehem iah (along with Ezra) am ong Christians is that he is engaged
in a legalistic reconstruction, this text shows him adam ant about se
rious econom ic reform . T he m ovem ent of the passage is relatively
simple:
a. T he econom ic analysis o f 5:1-5 exposes the trouble in the form
of a lam ent. T he situation o f famine created an agricultural crisis
th at led to lan d m ortgages (v. 3). Money needs to be borrow ed to
pay the im perial tax to the Persians (v. 4). The m ortgages a n d taxes
together caused d eb t slavery. (It is w orth noticing how re cu rre n t the
them e o f d eb t slavery is at the ro o t o f covenantal crisis, from the
narrative o f the exodus to Jerem iah 34 to this text.) T he Jews h ad
forfeited their “m eans o f p roduction” an d so were hopelessly in debt.
b. N ehem iah, as the voice o f the tradition, appeals to it and iden
tifies the key problem as interest paym ents (w. 6-8). T he problem
is n o t the taxes p er se but the m oney that m ust be borrow ed to
pay taxes; an d the interest rates th en cause foreclosure and loss of
property. T hat practice of m ortgage and foreclosure is carried on
betw een Jews, m em bers of the covenanted community, and is no t an
exploitation by outsiders. In his harsh judgm ent, N ehem iah speaks
of Jews as “brothers,” a clear reference to covenantal solidarity. N e
hem iah surely appeals to the old torah provision o f Deut. 23:19-20,
which prohibits interest within the com m unity an d explicitly uses the
term “brothers.” Covenanted people practice a different pattern o f
econom ic relationships.
c. In verses 9-13, N ehem iah leads an econom ic reform . T he p ro
posal is to cease charging interest, to retu rn the confiscated land so
that the disadvantaged may again take their place in the econom ic
life o f the com m unity (w. 10-11). In verses 12-13, the nobles and offi
cials agree an d take an oath to reo rd er econom ic life. T he covenant
clearly has im m ediate implications for the practice o f public life.
The power o f the narrative is found in the consensus about funda
Covenant an d Social Possibility 65
m entals, in which the dem ands o f torah an d the claims o f covenant

override th e im m ediate gains of unjust econom ic advantage.
From o u r study o f Jerem iah 54 and N ehem iah 5, it becomes clear
th at covenant has direct an d inescapable implications for econom ic
relationships. Moreover, these texts suggest that m atters o f economic
justice are p rio r to m atters o f political peace. T hat is, econom ic justice
is a preco n d itio n to secure, viable, hum ane order in society. Such
hum ane o rd e r as one m ight term peace is no t possible until there
is redress o f econom ic disadvantage. In the two cases cited, such
redress o f inequity clearly requires some to forgo gains they have
m ade, u n d e r the m andate o f the torah, for the sake o f com m unal
well-being.
IV
To be sure, these small episodes in Jerem iah 34 and N ehem iah 5 do
n o t am o u n t to very m uch in term s of significant social change. They
seem to b e isolated events th at stand against the general tendency of
exploitation. T he Bible is realistic and lacking in rom anticism about
society in covenantal m odes. T he Bible is n o t optimistic ab o u t re
form ist gains. O n the o th er hand, the Bible clings passionately to the
vision th at eventually, in G od’s good time, this alternative covenantal
m odel o f social reality will in d eed prevail. As covenant is a memory
rooted in the old traditions, a n d as it is an impetus for present practice in
concrete ways, so it is also a resilient vision in the Bible that G od’s
covenantal ord ering o f public life will prevail over all exploitative,
oppressive, inequitable systems. T he concreteness of the covenantal
vision in an cien t Israel has its co unterpart in the New Testam ent in
the nonnegotiable conviction about God’s com ing kingdom . G od’s
com ing kingdom is the ordering o f creation and the historical pro
cess aro u n d covenantal m odes of power and relationship. Two texts
o f such d eterm in ed hope may be cited.
1. First an d best known is the prom ise of Jer. 31:31-34. Set in the
m idst o f poetic oracles o f prom ise, this familiar assertion anticipates
a tim e to com e in which God will initiate a new relationship with
G od’s people. It will n o t be a covenant m arked by disobedience,
alienation, and hostility as in the past. It will be a quite different
relationship m arked in the following ways:
a. T he new covenant will be grounded in forgiveness. T hat is the
only antidote to disobedience. Perhaps it is not too m uch to sug
gest th at as the relation with God is m arked by forgiveness, so social,

hu m an relationships in this newly covenanted com m unity are to be
o f the same kind. Such forgiveness may also m ean the forgiveness of
debts (Matt. 16:12), the end of bondage, the overcom ing of social
inequity.
b. T he new covenant concerns a com m unity utterly com m itted
to to rah obedience. T he new covenant does n o t m ean an en d to the
law b u t a readiness and capability of obedience to torah (cf. Matt.
5:17-20). A com m unity so com m itted to the torah would be one in
which justice, mercy, compassion, and righteousness characterize all
relationships, in contrast to the present pursuit o f knowledge, power,
and wealth at the expense o f the neighbor (cf. Jer. 9:23-24).
c. T he new com m unity will be m arked by “knowledge o f Yah
w eh.” It is possible that such a phrase denotes a religious relation
ship, b u t elsewhere in the tradition o f Jerem iah (22:15-16) we are
given a different, quite radical reading of the phrase. T here, it is as
serted th at knowledge of Yahweh m eans attentiveness to poor, needy
people, the transform ation o f social relations an d public institu
tions for the sake o f justice.15 T hat is the m ark o f a new covenant
com m unity that is here anticipated.
d. T h e new com m unity will b e egalitarian, for th e knowledge
o f God will be available from the least to the greatest. T hat is, so
cial rank an d distinction will disappear, and every advantage an d
m onopoly will be dissolved.
T he oracle does not im agine that such a com m unity is now avail
able. But the prom ise invites active hope toward such a gift from
God th at is as sure as G od’s self.16
2. T he second text that looks to a future covenant com m unity
is Isa. 65:17-25. T he poem does not use the word “covenant,” b u t
it clearly envisions a social o rd er in which G od’s rule is fully estab
lished. H ere the anticipation is on m uch larger scope, as large as
heaven, earth, and Jerusalem , all o f which will be utterly new. In
this extraordinarily rich passage, we may m ention only the following
motifs:
15. See Jose Miranda, Marx and the Bible (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1974), 44-53.
16. On the problematic of this im portant passage for the interaction of Jews and
Christians, see the suggestive discussions of Emil L. Fackenheim, “New Hearts and
the Old Covenant: On Some Possibilities of Fraternal Jewish-Christian Reading of
the Jewish Bible Today,” in The Divine Helmsman, ed. James L. Crenshaw and Samuel
Sandmel (New York: KTAV, 1980), 191-205, and Hans Walter Wolff, Confrontations
with Prophets (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1983), 49-62.
Covenant and Social Possibility
a. In verses 21-22, the “futility curse” (cf. Amos 5:11; Zeph. 1:13)
is reversed. In the new world here envisioned, people will enjoy the
security o f th eir hom e an d the produce of their vineyard. This m eans
an en d to invading armies th at occupy and seize and an en d to ra
pacious governm ents th at devastate by im posing oppressive taxation
on vulnerable peasants. This confiscating process is term inated no t
by som e magic from heaven b u t by transform ed social practice,
b. T here will be a new availability from God (v. 24). T here will be
no barriers to ready com m unication between heaven and earth. In
this new world o f well-being, God will be fully present in im m ediate
ways. T he en d o f m ediation is prom ised. T hat is a prom ise with social
significance because every such authorized m ediation leads to social
advantage. T he e n d to m ediation is not yet, bu t it is prom ised and
h o p ed for in this com m unity o f covenant.
c. T h ere will b e an e n d to destructive hostility, bo th in the enm ity
o f creation (which looks back to Genesis 3) and in the hostility o f
nations. This ho p e does n o t believe that the world m ust be divided
forever in to hostile com peting forces. It is quite concrete ab o u t the
new social practices co n g ru en t with this hope.
In b o th Jer. 31:31-34 an d Isa. 65:17-25, the Bible m aintains an
active conviction th at G od’s peaceable kingdom is the in ten t of God
th at will n o t fail.
V
O n the twin them es of peace and justice, the alternative reali
ties em bodied by covenant, we have dealt largely with justice and
the overcom ing o f unjust an d exploitative relationships. T h at focus
(rath er th an a focus on peace) is due first of all to the fact th at this
is the m ain em phasis o f the Bible. T he Bible seems to worry m ore
about injustice th an about the problem of peace. W hen one looks at
the texts, this is w here the preponderance of them cluster. Second,
the em phasis is o n justice because from a biblical perspective, peace
follows from justice. W here ju st social relations and ju st public insti
tutions are authorized an d enacted, hostilities end. T he Bible seems
to affirm th at th ere can be no peace as long as there are m onopolies
o f u n b rid led pow er o r as long as there are m onopolies o f inordi
nate econom ic wealth. Peace comes only when such inappropriate
concentrations o f political power and econom ic wealth have been
overcome. We will exam ine first an im portant text th at at first glance
contradicts this thesis, and then move from there to three texts th at
sup p o rt o ur opinion that covenantal wisdom counters m onopolies.
T he reign o f Solom on is a period of rem arkable prosperity an d
power for Israel. In 1 Kings 4:20-28, Solom on’s situation o f affluence
is characterized. T hat achievem ent is quite clearly based on a p ro
ductive tax system and on a sturdy arms program . In the m idst o f
the portrayal o f success for the regim e, it is asserted th at there was
peace (v. 24) and that all dwelt in safety (v. 25). However, we m ust
approach that royal claim cautiously.17 First, the caution is required
because the peace that is claim ed is based on arms. O ne senses that it
is a peace im posed and dom inating, which is n o t and cannot be real
peace. Second, one m ust be cautious because it is clear from 1 Kings
11-12 th at Solom on’s long reign en ded in alienation, rebellion, an d
disarray. This suggests the reign was a tyrannical one th at sim ulta
neously generated and stifled enorm ous unrest. While Solom on may
have been able to repress unrest enough to m aintain a sem blance o f
o rd er and keep the lid on, quite clearly he was unable to adm inister
a genuine peace. Thus, I ju d g e this portrayal o f peace in chapter 4
to b e an act o f ideology and a statem ent of propaganda.18
A very different kind of peace is suggested in the three o th er
texts to which we turn. First, in Ezek. 34:25-31, the p ro p h e t an
nounces a covenant o f peace. This newly envisioned social possibility
comes at the en d of the chapter when the “wicked shepherds,” that
is, the exploitative rulers, have been expelled. Apparently these ra
pacious governors are the Israelite kings themselves (perhaps going
all th e way back to Solom on). These rulers created injustice by their
selfish, self-serving governance that is now ended.
In place o f such unjust rule is the rule o f God th at is gracious
and com passionate, looks after the lost, strayed, and crippled (w. 11-
16), an d is to be em bodied in the David who is to com e (w. 23-24).
T hat new peaceful order will perm it creation to function produc
tively (w. 26-27), will end oppression (v. 27), will cause an end o f
terro r an d fear (v. 28), and will lead to well-being am ong the nations.
17. On this passage and its images in relation to the poetic images o f Mic. 4.1-5,
see chap. 5, below.
18. Barbara Tuchman (The March of Folly [New York: Knopf, 1984], 8-11) has
cited the kingship of Rehoboam as an early example of folly. But surely the folly
is well grounded already in the policy and theory of Solomon, out of which his
son Rehoboam continued to act. When one recognizes that Solomon does indeed
practice folly as a high political art, then the text will surely be read with suspicion.
T he new possibility arises because the false governm ent organized

against covenant has now been overcome and dismissed.
Second, in Ezek. 37:24-28, the covenant of peace is prom ised
again. This an n o u n cem en t occurs again in the exile, after the old
noncovenantal o rd e r has been dism anded and a new David is es
tablished. T he new covenant is a com m unity o f obedience to torah
(v. 24), a com m unity in which God will be present (v. 27).
A th ird prom ise o f a covenant of peace is given in Isa. 54:9-17.
This poetic anticipation is also set in exile. T he prom ise is n o t only
that the old failed structures o f Israel have been term inated, as in
Ezek. 34:25-31; 37:24-28, b u t also th at the oppressive governm ent o f
the Babylonian em pire is also overcome. This m om ent o f peace is
linked to the prom ise m ade by Noah (see Gen. 9:8-17), which also
envisions a new covenant after the flood. Peace is given because
G od’s faithful prom ise continues to be at work in the real world.
T hat powerful prom ise is the source of new social possibility. Specif
ically, the destroyed, recalcitrant city will start over again. T here will
be prosperity (v. 13). T here will be an end to oppression (v. 14).
T h ere will be an en d to destructive weapons o f war (w. 15-17).
Israel’s poetry is relentless in its critique of im perial, tyrannic
rule, w hether it occurs in Israel o r in any o th er kingdom . Clearly,
peace will never em erge from such social concentrations o f power.
But Israel is equally resilient in its passionate conviction that the en d
o f such em pires is assured. Life will be available in ways th at m ake
genuine hu m an com m unity possible. T hat is why the text m aintains
an u n en d in g critique o f every im perial power and every econom ic
m onopoly an d why it continually offers an alternative vision for the
organization o f social power. From its inception, the Bible believed
th at the world could an d would be organized in just, righteous,
hum an ways. We dare to say that in Jesus we have received power
ful signs an d hints o f such actualization. T he central h in t we find is
the offer o f Jesus’ own person, which is given as a covenantal sign
o f new possibility (1 Cor. 12:24-26) that is n o t retained in liturgy or
sacram ent an d is n o t red u ced to religious act but evokes new social
practice in the world. Jesus’ death is finally a delegitim ating o f all de
structive ord erin g in h u m an life because the best effort at blocking
the alternative vision an d possibility has miserably failed in the face
o f the reality of Easter. Finally, the rulers o f this age cannot block the
vision o f justice o r the prom ise o f peace. But that vision an d p ro m
ise are m ediated to us at an enorm ous cost, a cost in which we are
invited to participate.
Part Two
A Social Reading of
Particular Texts
4
Social Criticism and Social Vision
in the Deuteronomic Formula
of the Judges
T h e FOURFOLD FORMULA o f the book of Judges is easily

identified.1 It has long b een regarded as an identifiable m ark of
D euteronom ic theology. W alter Beyerlin has reviewed the data.2 H e
has subjected the m aterials to a careful literary analysis, indicating
a possible way in which the m aterials have developed. It is clear
from his study (1) th at the form ula is old and to be dated before
the D euteronom ist;3 (2) th at the m aterial of the form ula is n o t a
unity an d may be treated in its constituent parts;4 and (3) th at the
form ulation has peculiar connections with D euteronom y 32,® which
(following G. Ernest W right and O tto Eissfeldt)6 may be dated early.
1. This essay assumes Hans Walter WolfFs “The Kerygma of the Deuteronomic
Historical Work,” in The Vitality of Old Testament Traditions, by Hans Walter WolfF and
Walter Brueggemann (Adanta: Jo h n Knox, 1975), 82-100. It seeks to advance one
elem ent of our interpretation of that theological tradition. The fullest treatments
of the fourfold formula of the book of Judges are those of Wolfgang Richter, Tra-
ditionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zum Richterbuch, BBB 18 (Bonn: Hanstein, 1963),
and idem, Die Bearbeitungen des “Retterbuches ” in der deuteronomischen Epoche, BBB 21
(Bonn: Hanstein, 1964).
2. Walter Beyerlin, “Gattung und Herkunft des Rahmens im Richterbuch,” in
Tradition und Situation: Studien zur alttestamentlichen Prophetie; Artur Weiser zum 70
Geburtstag, ed. Ernst Wiirthwein and Otto Kaiser (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck und
Ruprecht, 1963), 1-29.
3. Ibid., 15. Beyerlin has observed that some parts of the familiar, stylized
language do not have close parallels in Deuteronomy (cf. Deuteronomy 10).
4. Ibid., 2-7.
5. Ibid., 17-23.
6. G. Ernest Wright, “The Lawsuit of God: A Form-critical Study of Deuteronomy
73
Two reasons make it possible to reconsider the materials o f the

form ula in light of Beyerlin’s careful analysis. First (and m ost im por
tant), Beyerlin’s analysis is confined to issues o f literary analysis an d
relations. Since its publication in 1963, m uch greater attention has
b een given to sociological analysis o f texts.7 T hat is, forms as well as
substance o f the texts reflect cultural interests, power arrangem ents,
a n d epistem ological com m itm ents corresponding to social circum
stance. It is the suggestion o f this essay th at a sociological analysis
of th e form ula in the book of Judges may supplem ent the results of
literary analysis.
Second (and less im portant), Beyerlin’s analysis is a contribution
at a tim e w hen scholarship generally was particularly preoccupied
with the constructs of amphictyony, covenant renewal, and covenant
lawsuit. Each o f these figures in the judgm ents of Beyerlin.8 This
is n o t to suggest that subsequent scholarship has vitiated his anal
ysis, for the formulations of 6:8b-10 and 10:1 lb-14 apparendy do
reflect such an intention, which Beyerlin sees as oral proclam ations
o f lawsuit.9 B ut it does suggest th at some greater distance from those
scholarly constructs may perm it o th er discernm ents as well.10
I
O u r discussion seeks to build u p o n the ju d g m en t of Beyerlin that
the fourfold form ula of the book o f Judges is n o t a unity bu t has two
32,” in Israel’s Prophetic Heritage: Essays in Honor of J. Muilenburg, ed. Bernard W.

Anderson and Walter Harrelson (New York: Harper and Row, 1962), 36-41, 58-62;
Otto Eissfeldt, Das Lied Moses Deuteronomium 32,1-43 und das Lehrgedicht Asaphs Psalm
78 samt einer Analyse der Umgebung des Moseliedes (Berlin: Akademie, 1958).
7. See the summary treatm ent of the im portant work of George Mendenhall and
Norman Gottwald in the JSOT 7 (1978) and the summary o f the literature in chap.
1 of this volume. O f special importance is the synthesis o f Norman Gottwald, The
Tribes of Yahweh (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1979).
8. Beyerlin, “Gattung,” 27-29. It is clear that the formula in Judges is a narrative
and not a lawsuit presentation, though it may derive from that form. It is now used
for instruction, Beyerlin argues.
9. Ibid., 27.
10. It is clear th at alternatives to a lawsuit form in Deuteronomy 32 are possible.
W right’s analysis (“The Lawsuit of God,” 52-58) perhaps does n o t fully explain the
remarkable shift at v. 39. It may be, as he suggests, that the speaker shifts modes.
B ut what historical, political, or sociological realities relate to that shift? Gerhard von
Rad (Wisdom in Israel [Nashville: Abingdon, 1972], 295 n. 9) suggests an alternative
placement and dating of Deuteronomy 32 that merits consideration. On the danger
o f patternism in the lawsuit form, see the comment of Aubrey R. Johnson, The Cultic
Prophet and Israel’s Psalmody (Cardiff: Univ. of Wales Press, 1979), 151 n. 2.
Social Criticism an d Social Vision in the Deuteronomic Formula 75
distinct parts.11 Certainly by the tim e of the D euteronom istic His

tory, they have b e e n built into a conventional unity.12 B ut in order
to u n d erstan d th e usage, we may consider the social reality that lies
beyond the two parts.
T he first p art o f the form ula (“do evil/anger Yahweh”) consists in
the elem ents o f sin an d punishm ent, or m ore specifically, apostasy
an d oppression.13
1. T h e form ulary o f “sin/apostasy” has variations. But the m ost
com m on statem ent is a generalized phrase w ithout specificity: “Is
rael did evil in th e eyes of Yahweh” (2:11; 3:7, 12; 4:1; 6:1; 10:6). In
three o f these cases (3:7; 4:1; 6:1), this form ula stands alone an d is
im m ediately followed by the responding action of Yahweh.
In th e o th er cases, the form ula is expanded in a nu m b er of varia
tions. T h e fullest statem ent is th at of 2:11-13, which appears to have
later developm ent.14 It includes seven supplem entary verbs: “serve”
(Baalism), “ab an d o n ,” “walk” (after other gods), “bow down,” “vex,”
“ab andon,” “serve” (Baal an d Ashtarot). In its present form the se
ries o f seven provides an envelope o f “serve” (a), “abandon” (b),
followed by th ree verbs with the closure, “abandon” (b1), “serve” { a ).
T h e o th er fuller form ula is in 10:6-7, which has the sequence “serve,
abandon, n o t serve.” In 3:6-7,15 in addition to the two uses o f “serve,”
th e term “forget” is used, a n d in 6:10, “not listen.”16
11. Beyerlin, “Gattung,” 3-5. See the important comment of Paul D. Hanson,
Dynamic of Transcendence (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978), 54-56.
12. T hat it has become conventional is indicated in the use made of the same
reasoning by Jo b ’s friends (see Job 5:6-16; 8:4-7; 11:6, 13-20). Cf. von Rad, Wisdom
in Israel, 211-12. Though the points are not laid out as clearly because of the poetic
idiom, the same sequence is apparent.
13. This, of course, is the ground for the lawsuit hypothesis applied here. The for
mula can be characterized in theological language (sin-punishment) or in a political
idiom (apostasy-oppression).
14. See Beyerlin, “Gattung,” 2-7, and the judgm ent of Rudolf Smend (“Das Gesetz
und die Volker,” in Probleme Bibtischer Theologie: Festschrift G. von Bad, ed. Hans Wal
ter Wolff [Munich: Kaiser, 1971], 504—6), who discerns late “nomistic” development
in v. 17 and who concludes that w. 20-22 contain late elements. Cf. Walter Diet-
rich, Pmphetie und Geschichte, FRLANT 108 (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht,
1972), 68 n. 6. N either the work of Dietrich nor that of Timo Veijola (Die Ewige
Dynastie [Helsinki: Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1975]) bears upon our study in any
decisive way.
15. There follows an extended catalogue of the gods that departs from the
characteristically lean formula.
16. The statem ent of 8:33-35 includes a different triad (“play the h arlo t,...
establish [Baalberith as g o d ],... not do hesed...”) so that it has only secondary
connections to the main formula. The only other use of znh, “play the harlot,” is in
2:17, on which see Smend, “Das Gesetz und die Volker.”
W hile there is surely a difference o f nuance am ong these various

terms, we can make two general observations. First, they function to
in terp ret a n d give substance to the larger form ula, “do evil.” Sec
ond, they in terp ret in an intensely theological, covenantal direction.
T heir concern is the exclusive and intense loyalty dem anded by
Yahweh.
T he basic form ula “do evil in the eyes o f Yahweh,” is, o f course,
widely used by the D euteronom istic History. But taken by itself, that
is, w ithout the other elem ents o f the form ula, it is older. W hile it
surely has theological overtones, it is equally clear that it is used to
m aintain social order and at times social control. T hat is, it is n o t a
disinterested theological form ula. For the Yahweh that is displeased
is always the Yahweh cham pioned by som eone. A nd n o t unexpect
edly, the one who cham pions Yahweh (or a certain aspect o f Yahweh)
is a person in authority, whose authority is closely linked to Yahweh.
Thus the form ula is n o t ever w ithout its political im plication. This
would n o t seem to be evident in Gen. 38:7, 10. T here is no evident
ploy h ere for social power. B ut it surely is used for the defense and
m aintenance o f social practice (Levirate m arriage). The issue o f so
cial power and control is m ore evident in Lev. 10:19;17 Num. 23:27;
24:1;18 and Num. 32:13.19
We may also m ention four uses that seem to be crucially placed
concerning the m atter o f social control and political power. T he first
o f these, in 1 Sam. 12:17, concerns asking for a king as evil “in the
eyes o f Yahweh.” On critical grounds, it is n o t clear how this text
relates to the D euteronom istic History, and so it may no t be an in
d ep e n d en t witness to the form ula. T he o th er th ree are clearer. In
1 Sam. 15:19, the form ula is used in violation o f holy war. In 2 Sam.
11:27; 12:9, the form ula is used against the capricious use o f royal
power, insisting on the authority o f the torah against the king.20 Thus
17. The formula is positive rather than negative. But the point is the same.
18. Both formulas are positive. But the fact that one man regards curse as “right”
(ysr) and the other regards blessing as “good” (tob) suggests the political dimensions
of the formula.
19. The juxtaposition of w. 5 and 12 makes the political point. What is in the
“eyes” of Moses is also in the “eyes” of Yahweh. The transcendent referent and the polit
ical authority are identical in the use of power. Such an identification is at the heart
o f our argument. The theological claim of the formula embodies crucial political
realities.
20. Cf. 7:14. See Gerhard von Rad, “The Beginnings o f Historical Writing in An
cient Israel,” in The Problem of the Hexateuch and Other Essays (New York: McGraw
Hill, 1966), 198-204. It is curious that this formula has been singled out as a so
phisticated theological statement, whereas the parallel use in Gen. 38:7, 10 would
Social Criticism a n d Social Vision in the Deuteronomic Formula 77
while the form ula o f Judges clearly makes a theological appeal, it

employs a form ula th at relates to the defense and m aintenance o f a
particular form o f social order.21
2. T he second p a rt of the form ula concerns punishm ent in the
form o f social oppression given for violation o f social order. H ere
th e form ulas are m o re uniform . They include (a) a theological state
m ent: “[T ]he an g er o f Yahweh is kindled” (2:14, 20; 3:8; 10:7), and
(b) the political consequence of subjugation, “sell into the h a n d ”
(2:14; 3:8; 4:2; 10:7), o r “give into the hand” (2:14; 6:1), “strengthen
th e enem y” (3:12). Again the variation does n o t seem to be im por
tant, for they all p o in t to the same reality, with the juxtaposition o f
theological claim an d political reality.
O f these two parts, the first, dealing with the anger o f Yahweh, is
th e m ore interesting. Several episodes suggest th at the anger o f Yah
weh is closely linked with the leadership o f Moses. T h at is, Yahweh
is angered w hen Moses is n o t obeyed (Exod. 32:10, 11, 22;22 Num.
11:1, 10,23 33; 12:9; 32:10, 13). Four o ther passages seem especially
im portant: (a) Num . 25:3 uses the term especially for syncretism;24
(b) 2 Sam. 24:1 relates it to the census o f David, th at is, the em er
gence o f royal power; (c) Isa. 5:24-25 links it to the rejection o f the
torah; and, m ost im portant, (d ) Hos. 8:5 uses the term in relation
to the m ention o f kings in 8:4. It is unlikely that the institution of
m onarchy is rejected in principle.25 But clearly the an g er o f Yahweh
relates to a w rong em brace o f political authority. And linked to polit
scarcely be regarded the same way. In both cases, the formula is employed to insist
upon and underscore a view o f social reality.
21. On the social function and use o f such theological formulas in the service
of a social order and therefore a political authority, see Peter Berger and Thomas
Luckmann, The Social Construction o f Reality (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1966),
71 and passim; and Peter Berger, The Sacred Canopy (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday,
1969), especially chaps. 1 and 2. O n the political element in the formula, see the
shrewd comments of Dennis McCarthy, “The Wrath o f Yahweh and the Structural
Unity of the Deuteronomistic History,” in Essays in Old Testament Ethics, ed. James L.
Crenshaw and Jo h n T. Willis (New York: KTAV, 1974), 100-104.
22. In v. 19, it is the anger of Moses that is kindled. Again there is nearly
identification of the anger o f Yahweh and the anger of Yahweh’s agent, Moses.
23. This verse offers a striking hint of o u r formula. It employs two o f our phrases,
“anger kindled” and “evil in the eyes of.” But one is assigned to Yahweh, the other
to Moses.
24. See George M endenhall ( The Tenth Generation [Baltimore: Johns Hopkins
Univ. Press, 1973], 105-21) on a plausible sociological setting for the episode. He
locates the crisis in terms of syncretism and the problem of legal systems. Hans
Walter Wolff (“The Kerygma of the Yahwist,” Int 20 [1966]: 133, 153-55) locates
the episode in the traditioning process.
25. Cf. Hans Walter Wolff, Hosea, Hermeneia (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1974), 139.
ical authority is the m ention o f “calves,” a h in t about a wrong social

order.26
T h e o th er formula, concerning political subjugation, calls for lit
tle com m ent (cf. Deut. 32:30; 1 Sam. 12:9). T h ere is no do u b t of
political im plication. The same figure is used with reference to Egypt
because o f its pride (Ezek. 30:12) and the Philistines because of their
m altreatm ent o f Israel (Joel 4:8; Eng. 3:8).27 With both Egypt and
th e Philistines, it is for acts o f political and social exploitation that
th e “selling” is announced.
T hus it appears that the anger o f Yahweh is the m iddle term be
tween “evil” and “selling.” It is clear that the an g er o f Yahweh is a
way o f speaking about the price assessed in the historical process for
the wrong o rder of society and the rejection o f the right ordering
of society.
3. T h e simplest articulation of this two-m em bered form ulation is
expressed in the three statements;
And the people o f Israel again did what was evil in the sight of the
Lord; and the Lord strengthened Eglon the King o f M oab. . . because
they had done what was evil in the sight of the Lord. (3:12)
And the people of Israel again did what was evil in the sight o f the
Lord, after Ehud died. And the Lord sold them. (4:1-2)
The people of Israel did what was evil in the sight of the Lord; and
the Lord gave them into the hand o f Midian. (6:1)
In no n e o f these is the m iddle term o f anger used, though its

presence does n o t change the simple structure. In these there is
n o em bellishm ent, no intensification by m ore elaborate rhetoric.
The indictm ent is that Israel has adopted a way of political decisions antithetical to
the northern “royal ideal.”
26. Perhaps the reference to “calf” links this text to Exodus 32. The reference to
kings here and the obvious struggle for leadership in Exodus 32 indicate how our
formula is related to political control and social order. In Hos. 8:1-6, two members
of our formula (“cry” in v. 2, as well as “anger burns” in v. 5) are used. The
connections between our fourfold formula and this passage are worth pursuing.
Wolff (Hosea, 141) suggests these are a “fixed part” in the narratives of apostasy and
paraenesis.
2V. Note the use of “requite” or “turn back” in 4:7 (Eng. 3:7), a term impor
tant for the construct of “deed-consequence.” Cf. Josef Scharbert, “SLM im Alten
Testament,” in Um das Prinzip der Vergeltung in Religion und Recht des Alten Tes
taments, ed. Klaus Koch, Wege der Forschung 125 (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche
Buchgesellschaft, 1972), 300-325; and the basic article of Koch, “Gibt es ein
Vergeltungsdogma im Alten Testament?” in ibid., 130-80.
Social Criticism and Social Vision in the Deuteronomic Formula 79
T he sim ple form ula is an expression of the teaching of the close

correspondence o f d eed an d consequence,28 which we may charac
terize as o ne of the prim ary intellectual constructs o f Israel.29 These
conclusions on this form ula seem appropriate:
a. T h e twofold form ula has no necessary linkage to the o th er
parts o f the “D euteronom ic” fourfold form ula o f repentance and
deliverance. It is in d ep en d e n t and expresses its own teaching.
b. T he action an d involvem ent o f Yahweh (either im plicit o r ex
plicit) between evil an d selling are evident. We are n o t dealing with
an autom atic sphere o f destiny b u t with a highly theologized version
o f retrib u tio n .30
c. It is doubtful if this simple form uladon can be regarded as
a “lawsuit,” though the fuller forms of 6:7-10 and 10:10b-14 may
qualify. Thus the standard Judges form ula is n o t lawsuit b u t a sim
ple “deed-consequence” assertion, which m eans it lives in a different
setting. T h ere is n o necessary connection between this form ula and
the lawsuits th at Beyerlin has identified, though the m ore expanded
passages perm it such an interpretation.
II
O u r m ain interest is to consider the sociology of the deed-
consequence teaching presented here. While attention has been
given to th at teaching in the sapiential materials, it can hardly be
regarded as a wisdom construct. It is equally assumed and utilized
in the Prophets an d elsewhere in the literature. W herever it is used,
the teaching reflects a well-ordered, coherent, stable social world
in which rules are well established, power is properly legitimized,
and consequences are reasonably predictable for the h onoring and
dishonoring o f the stable order, established rules, and legitim ated
28. Beyerlin, “Gattung," 3-4.

29. T hat construct has been especially located in wisdom materials. Cf. von Rad,
Wisdom in Israel, 124-37, and Koch, “Gibt es ein Vergeltungsdogma,” 131-40. While
the construct surely has close parallels to the teaching of the wisdom teachers,
we have found no close relationship to wisdom in the terminology o f Judges. The
closest analogy may be in Prov. 3:3-4 in structure, but not in wording. The phrase
“eyes of God” is also used there, b u t not in a way significant for our material.
30. Obviously, it makes a difference in our label if this construct is “retribu
tion” or “deed-consequence.” Cf. H enning Graf Reventlow, “Sein Blut komme uber
sein H aupt,” in Urn das Prinzip, 412-31, and the response of Koch, “Gibt es ein
Vergeltungsdogma,” 432-56, for the distinction.
power. Life makes sense. This form ula m eans bo th to insist on this
an d to rely upon it.31
To be sure, the deed-consequence teaching can be utilized by
m ore th an one societal claim. In every case it insists o n some soci
etal claim o f a positive kind. It is n o t used to protest an o rd e r or
to declare it null and void. O n the one hand, it can be used with
theological intentionality about the rule of God. B ut as the refer
ences to Moses suggest, the rule o f God is never an abstract idea. It
is a rule that has historical concreteness and therefore political im
plications. O n the other hand, the deed-consequence construct can
also be used for any present social order, which may be legitim ated
by royal propaganda, justified by the use of power, an d serving the
interests of the ruling class. This, perhaps, is its function in the Prov
erbs, if n o t its intent.32 It takes no subtie analysis to know th at in any
stable society the rule of law tends to equate the ordering o f God
and the ordering o f the dom inant class.33 T he norm ality presum ed
in the simple form ula of “evil/sell” is no t only an im portant theo
logical claim. At the same time it is an appeal to a social, political,
intellectual coherence from which some peculiarly benefited. T h at
would seem to be the case with J o b ’s friends, who have theological
affinity with the form ula in the book of Judges.34 This is n o t to say
they act in bad faith. It is rath er that the distance between the order
ing of God and the ordering o f the present arrangem ent has been
31. That the construct makes life predictable is not seriously qualified by von
Rad’s stress on mystery in it (cf. Wisdom in Israel, 124-33), for the mystery presumes
the linkage of deed and consequence. It only seeks to go behind it for the sake of
refinem ent and greater understanding. The mystery is premised on the connection
of deed and consequence.
32. Cf. Robert Gordis, “The Social Background of Wisdom Literature,” in Poets,
Prophets and Sages (Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press, 1971), 160-97; and the ju d i
cious statement of Brian Kovacs, “Is There a Class Ethic in Proverbs?" in Essays in
Old Testament Ethics, 173-39; and George Mendenhall, “The Shady Side o f Wisdom,”
in A Light unto My Path, ed. Howard N. Bream, R. D. Heim, and Casey A. Moore
(Philadelphia: Temple Univ. Press, 1974), 319-27.
33. Thus every theological claim has at least a temptation toward self-serving
ideology. See Karl Mannheim, Ideology and Utopia (New York: H arcourt Brace Jo-
vanovich, 1936), and the use made of Mannheim’s construct by Paul D. Hanson,
The Dawn of Apocalyptic (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975). Robert Merton (Social Theory
and Social Structure [New York: Free Press, 1957], 114-36) helpfully distinguishes
motivation and consequence, or manifest and latent function. Thus the construct
of deeds-consequences, willfully or not, orders society in a certain direction. On the
social function of wisdom, see Mendenhall, “The Shady Side of Wisdom.”
34. Von Rad (Wisdom in Israel, 211) reflects on the formula handled by the friends
of Job.
collapsed, and th e two are identified.35 T hat is likely to h ap p en in

any use o f the construct o f “deed and consequence.”
In o u r form ula in the book o f Judges, several options lie open
for its political im plication.
1. If the form ula is a sanction of an early com m unity o f liber
ation, as M endenhall argues,36 then the form ula represents right
discipline necessary to m aintain the m ovem ent and resist accom
m odation. Clearly, then, syncretism has im portant sociopolitical
im plications, for it m eans the erosion of the liberation m ovem ent.
T he h o n o rin g o f Yahweh is the practice of the politics o f liberation.
And any apostasy toward an o th er god carries with it the dangers of
oppression. T he form ula assumes a correlation of theological loyalty
and political possibility.
2. B ut the form ula has a different use when set in the context of
monarchy. T h en the form ula (even if cast as a theological formula)
serves to rationalize, legitim ate, and justify the claims of the royal es
tablishm ent. This is n o t the function of the form ula in Judges, b u t
the form ula o f deed-consequence in the service o f the m onarchy is
evident in the th ree cases o f Joab, Barzillai, and Shimei (1 Kings
2:5-9). Two are negative a n d one is positive, but each is set as a
consequence for a deed:
(a) Joab: “He d id ,... he m urdered,... he put; (deed)

... th erefore,... do not le t... ” (consequence)
(w. 5-6)
(b) Barzillai: " ... deal loyally (consequence)
... because they m et me with loyalty.” (deed) (v. 7)
(c) Shimei: “He cursed m e ...; (deed)
bring down his gray head.” (consequence)
(w. 8-9)
T h ere is no statem ent o f anger o r even of vengeance. T he acts are

for tran sp aren t reasons o f state, that is, to m aintain the present
order.
35. We have observed this in three cases with Moses (Exod. 32:10, 19; Num. 11:10;
32:5, 13).
36. M endenhall made this suggestion in a lecture given in St. Louis in October
1976. He suggests the formula reflects the discipline of a community of liberation
that has learned that any relaxation of discipline (that is, loyalty to the social vision
of Yahweh) leads to erosion and eventually reabsorption into the dom inant system
against which the liberated community is organized. Thus he urges that the formula
reflects political experience and realism. See Gottwald, Tribes of Yahweh, on the same
inclination.
3. It is likely that our form ula in the book o f Judges is nei

th e r the early radical form ula o f a com m unity o f liberation n o r the
self-serving form ulation of the monarchy. R ather it is the delicate
posturing o f reform teachers who hold for a particular vision o f royal
reality, tighdy disciplined by torah an d resistant to syncretism. As is
well known, in later Deuteronom istic History, bo th the discipline of
torah an d th e resistance to syncretism com e to be present as the
claim of th e Jerusalem tem ple. But that, o f course, cannot be p re
sented by the history as the case yet in Judges. It is plausible that the
use o f the form ula in Judges is m uch m ore theologically radical and
m uch less politically concrete than are the form ulas in Kings. T hat
may be because o f the historical casting of the teaching in the pre-
Jerusalem period. Thus this theological radicalism by the history is a
co u n terp art for the political specificity o f the history’s later m aterial
in Kings.
T he p o in t is that the teaching o f “deed-consequence,” that is,
“evil/sell,” is a form ula in which an o rd er holds. T here is no slip
page in the nomos.31 It is n o t in doubt that consequences follow evil
or good in the eyes o f Yahweh; n o r is it in doubt th at evil causes sub
ju g atio n .38 This world is reliable, predictable, and co h eren t and has
gifts to give those who will live in it. It need be explored no further.
And, therefore, this passionate theological conviction can be given
concrete institutional expression and can be dealt with by explicit,
deliberate, and intentional conduct. T he conduct of Israel n eed
n o t be experim ental, exploratory, o r precarious (see Deut. 4:5-8;
30:11-14). It may proceed with confidence. And even when nega
tive behavior causes negative results, there n eed be no puzzlem ent.
T here is still ground for confidence, for the world has n o t collapsed.
T he p ro ponents of this theological vision undoubtedly h ad in m ind
a rath er specific quid pro quo political and social world th at could
also be trusted (see 2 Kings 22-23).
37. Here I use nomos as social norm. Cf. Merton, Social Theory, chap. 6, in his
discussion of anomie.
38. Von Rad ( Wisdom in Israel, 129) suggests a movement from experience to
doctrine. There is no doubt that our formula in the book o f Judges is on the
way to doctrine. But if it grows out o f a genuine liberation community, it is no t yet
doctrine remote from experience. It may well have been experienced that departure
from the radical social vision of Yahwism leads to oppression.
III
T he second p a rt o f the form ula o f Judges is “cry ou t/d eliv er.”
1. T h e first m em ber o f this form ula is consistently “cry o u t”
(zaaq, saaq; 3:9, 15; 4:3; 6:6-7; 10:10-14). It rem ains constant and
is n o t developed. It is a plea to be delivered from oppression. In
cu rren t in terp retatio n of the D euteronom istic History, the term “cry
ou t” has b een u n d ersto o d in term s o f repentance.39 That, however,
seems doubtful in its general use o r in the usage in Judges. T he term
may refer to a form al com plaint against or a protest against injustice
(Gen. 4:10; 18:20; Exod. 22:22; 2 Sam. 13:19; Prov. 21:13; Neh. 5:1;
Isa. 5:7). W hen so used, it is an appeal to a higher authority against
an offender. O r it may be simply a cry o f desperation, hoping for de
liverance (Deut. 22:24, 27; Isa. 42:2). O r it may be a general outcry
against an unbearable situation in which it is n o t a plea addressed to
anyone, b u t it is simply an undirected grieving (Isa. 14:31; 15:4; Jer.
48:4, 34; 50:46; 51:54; Esther 4:1).
In the uses in Judges, only in 10:10-14 is there a developm ent.
It is used in this passage in three ways. First, in verse 10, it is in
deed used as repentance, b u t this appears to be the only such case
in Judges. However, th at m eaning is carried n o t by the term itself
b u t by th e words th at follow. Second, the term is used in historical
review (v. 12), to cite past acts o f Yahweh’s responsiveness. A nd then
in verse 14, Israel is challenged to seek an alternative source o f help,
which Israel rightly refuses (v. 15). In the unit o f verses 10-14, the
topic is repentance, b u t th at m otif belongs to the total wording and
n o t to th e term zaaq.
O n th e one han d , the term refers to the deliverance from Egypt
(Exod. 2:23; 3:7-9; 14:10-15; 15:25; Num. 20:16; Deut. 26:7; Josh.
24:7). T h e exodus has becom e a paradigm for the needful call of
Israel an d the caring, powerful response o f Yahweh. T he o th e r pri
mary usage is in th e Psalms (9:12; 22:6; 34:18; 77:2; 88:2; 142:2, 6),
which concerns m ore intim ate personal matters, though the in ten t
and the appeal are the same.
39. See WolfF, “The Kerygma of the Deuteronomic Historical Work,” 87-88, and
cf. E. Janssen, Juda in der Exilszeit, FRLANT 51 (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck und
Ruprecht, 1956), 74-76, more generally on “Umkehr” in the Deuteronomistic His
tory. Cf. Richter, Die Bearbeitungen, 18-20, on za'aq. As far as I can determine, in
his m ore general study of “Umkehr,” Wolff (“Das Thema ‘Um kehr’ in der alttesta-
mentlichen Prophetie,” in Gesammelte Studien zum Alten Testament [Munich: Kaiser,
1964], 130-50) nowhere is concerned with the terms za'aq, saaq.
So far as I can determ ine, only in Jon. 3:7-8 is the term used ex
plicitly in relation to repentance. But again that is m ore weight than
can be placed on the term itself. T he m eaning of “repentance” can
perhaps be deduced for the word when Israel is accused o f n o t cry
ing to Yahweh (Hos. 7:14) or is invited to appeal to idols (Isa. 57:13)
or when Yahweh refuses to listen to the cry (1 Sam. 8:18; Mic. 3:4;
Jer. 11:11-12; Hab. 1:2; Lam. 3:8; Jo b 19:7; 35:9-12; Isa. 46:7). But
the total usage suggests a m uch m ore lim ited intent. T he concern
characteristically is limited to a situation o f need an d danger an d
an action seeking escape from it. While Yahweh may have m ore in
m ind in the call to “cry,” the voice o f Israel tends to focus on extrica
tion from a situation o f oppression a n d /o r distress. T he term itself
implies very little in relation to the one addressed by the call.
2. T he o th er part o f this second form ula is (as in the first for
m ula we have considered) m ore concrete in its political intent. T he
term “deliver” is used in the form ula in 2:16-17; 3:9.15; 10:10-15. O f
course, there are many o th er uses in the book o f Judges because o f
the general subject m atter an d the easy exchange o f yasd and saphat.
For o u r purposes we may focus on the them atic statem ent o f 2:16:
Then the Lord raised up judges, who saved them out of the power of
those who plundered them.
The characteristic statem ent shows th at the form ula speaks o f Yah
weh as a source o f political power who will liberate from another,
lesser political power that oppresses.
3. In o rd er to analyze this second half o f the fourfold form ula
o f Judges, it is im portant to recognize that the com bined form ula
“cry o ut/save,” taken by itself, is an intellectual construct in Israel o f
prim ary im portance for the religion o f Israel.40 To be sure there are
uses o f each term alone, but it is their juxtaposition th at is crucial for
th eir function here. In Judges that juxtaposition is found in 3:9, 15;
10:10-12. T he o th er form ulary texts offer some variation, bu t these
are the decisive uses.
It is clear that the construct o f “cry ou t/sav e” originated neither
in the D euteronom istic History n o r in the book o f Judges. It reflects
an old and fundam ental claim o f biblical faith, characterizing the
40. Cf. Claus Westermann, Elements of Old Testament Theology (Atlanta: Jo h n Knox,
1982), 153-57; Westermann, “The Role of the Lament in the Theology of the Old
Testament,” Int 28 (1974): 20-38; and Walter Brueggemann, “From H urt to Joy,
from Death to Life,” Int 28 (1974): 3-19.
relatio n b etw een Israel as a p eo p le in n e e d an d Yahw eh as th e G od

w ho pow erfully resp o n d s.41 T h a t ju x ta p o sitio n is fo u n d in:
a. the psalmic traditions of personal lament (Pss. 9:13-15; 22:6;42 34:7, 18;
88:2; cf. Hab. 1:2);
b. the various texts surrounding the exodus (Exod. 14:10-13; cf. also 2:23-
2 5 );4S the reference of 1 Sam. 9:16 refers to the Philistines and is
derivative from the model of exodus (cf. Neh. 9:27-28);
c. the anecdotal report on 2 Kings 6:26-27, which does not appear to be

influenced by the Deuteronomistic History;
d. a negative form in Jer. 11:11-12; Isa. 46:7; see also the negative coun
terpart to our formula in Judg. 12:2; these uses will be important for
the argument to follow;
e. stylized statements that are a shorthand form of the basic claim of

Israel’s faith; in such uses, the formula has lost most of the radical
dimension that belongs to its primary uses (cf. Ps. 107:13, 19;44 Neh.
9:27; 2 Chron. 32:20-22). In Isa. 19:20, the same structure is given a
curious and bold turn.
IV
T h e fo rm u la o f “cry o u t/s a v e ” expresses a m ajo r in tellectu al c o n
s tru ct o f Israel’s faith. How ever, th e social world o f faith an d pow er
it reflects is in ten sion (if n o t antithesis) to th at reflected in th e c o n
stru ct o f “e v il/sell” we have already co n sid ered . This se co n d fo rm u la
o f Ju d g e s is in n o way re le v a n t to th e social situation o f “d eed -
c o n se q u e n ce ” in w hich b o th th eo lo g ical o rd e r an d political au th o rity
a re clear, reliab le, an d well established.
In d e e d , this se co n d c o n s tru c t o f “cry o u t/s a v e ” reflects p erson s
an d co m m u n ity in a situation in which th e stable, o rd e re d reliability
h as failed an d b e e n fo u n d w anting. T heologically, we m ay say it is th e
en d o f th e w orld o f nomos 45 T h e re are n o known m od es o f c o n d u c t
41. Karl Barth (Church Dogmatics [Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1960], 3/3:267-71)
urges that asking and petitioning are the heart o f biblical prayer.
42. The term here is mlt, but see w. 2 and 22.
43. The term ys is not used, b u t see nsl in Exod. 3:8.
44. Verses 6 and 28 have the same construct but with different terms. Cf. Ps.
145:19.
45. O n the social process and significance of the collapse of nomos, see Berger
and Luckmann, Social Construction, 119-21; Berger, Sacred Canopy, 47-51; and Mer
ton, Social Theory. Merton (Social Theory, 218-19) offers a list of indicators of anomie
th at will p roduce the desired consequences. T here are no assured

authorities who preside over an o rd e r an d who keep th eir word.46 To
the extent th at the torah has been reduced to a “system” th at can be
“w orked,” this form ula m eans that the torah can no longer be relied
u p o n to produce a world of secure blessing. It is n o t only that the
outcom e o f blessing is no t received bu t that the system—theological
and political—is now experienced as dysfunctional. This form ula is
a response to the very world of “deed-consequence” reflected in
the first form ula o f “evil/sell.” (Set in the context of the D euter
onom istic Historian, who uses an older formula, this suggests the
inadequacy o f Josiah’s reform , which appeals to “deed-consequence,”
and it illum inates Jerem iah ’s rejection o f newness by way o f reform
as in ad eq u ate.)47
T h at the form ula is a theological invitation in the face o f a col
lapsed life-world is evident in bo th its prim ary settings. We have seen
that the form ula in Israel is especially linked to the exodus event.
T h at is, by the use o f this form ula, Israel moves from the epistemol-
ogy an d prom ises o f Egypt to cast its lot with this o th er O ne who is
always som ething o f an unknow n quantity. The system o f Egypt can
be “worked,” th at is, can be reduced to “deed-consequence.” And
as th e exodus is a departure from th at system with Yahweh, so the
yearning to retu rn (Exod. 16:3; Num. 14:2-4) is a desire to re en ter
the im perial world o f “deed-consequence.” T he choice is between a
safe world o f “deeds-consequences” th at crushes an d Yahweh’s own
version o f “save” (cf. Exod. 17:4-6; Num. 12:13-14).
T he situation is no t different in the o th er prim ary use o f the
lam ent psalm. T here also the speaker has experienced the deep fail
ure o f th e system. H e is at a loss to m ake the system work. Now he
m ust m ake an appeal to an alternative form o f hope an d help.
L et us consider the situation o f those who m ust utilize the con
struct of “cry out/save.” They are in distress in the Psalms, for the
o th er systems o f support an d reward have failed (see the extrem e
that may illuminate Israel’s rejection of an alien nomos. “The end of the nomos” may
be a shattering or a liberation, depending on one’s benefit from that ordering of
reality.
46. Such a rejection of the system is perhaps reflected in Jerem iah’s programmatic
word sqr. Cf. T. Overholt, The Threat of Falsehood, SBT, n.s., 16 (London: SCM, 1970).
47. O n Jerem iah’s attitude toward the reform, see the old but judicious statement
of Jo h n Skinner, Prophecy and Religion (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1963),
chap. 7. See the summary of Harold H. Rowley, Men of God (London: Nelson,
1963), 158-68, and the bibliography of Jose Miranda, Marx and the Bible (Maryknoll,
N.Y.: Orbis, 1974), 74 n. 37.
statem ent in Jo b 30). O r alternatively they are the slaves o f the Egyp
tian em pire who look for an appeal against pharaoh. E ither way,
they are those for whom the “deed-consequence” fram e o f reference
has failed o r even becom e hostile. And they must, at some risk, en
trust themselves to this alternative life-world where things are m uch
m ore precarious. But the alternative (if I have correctly understood
the contrast of th e constructs o f “deed-consequence” an d “cry o u t/
save”) adm its o f new possibility. We may thus summarize the form er
form ula as reflecting a well-ordered and predictable world o f law
(nomos). T he latter is a world that relies on the freedom o f Yahweh
and looks to Yahweh’s faithful b u t unpredictable graciousness. This
second form ula breaks with the old nomos. Its speaker is in a “pre-
nomos” situation o f dangerous grace (yT) th at has both theological
and political dim ensions.
O u r arg u m en t is th at this is n o t simply a theological issue. It is
rath er a distinction between life-worlds48 with contrasting political
possibilities, epistem ological com m itm ents, and m odes of certitude.
Any attem p t to u n d erstand the formulas theologically apart from
such a political dim ension m isunderstands the claim and function
of the formula.
In th at light, then, we m ust understand those who use “cry o u t/
save” as a way o f existence— they stand outside the m anaged world
o f “deed-consequence.”
Such a move from the one life-world to the o ther recognizes that
the m anaged world o f “deed-consequence” has failed an d cannot
keep its prom ises. T hus it em bodies an im portant critique of the “sys
tem ,” asserting th at it can n o t be trusted. Appeal to “cry o u t/sav e” is
a rejection of the o th er m ode. Thus, in Exod. 10:29 and 11:8, Moses
will appeal to th at m ode o f existence no longer. Such a rejection
may reflect an awareness th at it is weak and ineffectual, th at deeds
simply do n o t p roduce consequences (so Job). O r it may go d eep er
to see th at it is n o t disinterested bu t inequitable, so that it is biased
for some, against some others (thus the critique o f the system of
“deed-consequence” in Isa. 5:20-23; Amos 5:7, 10-12; Jo b 9:13-23).
T he shift o f form ulas from “deed-consequence” to “cry/save”
is a decision to move from one court o f appeal to another, to
tu rn from the failed, now rejected authority to an alternative au
48. See Peter Berger (The Precarious Vision [Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1961])
on the plurality and tension of life-worlds. Note especially his three-dimensional
titles on “Egypt, Zion, and Exodus,” terms pertinent to our argument.
thority (Yahweh) who may be m ore responsive, fairer, an d m ore

• 4Q
com passionate.
T he shift in formulas thus reflects a changed m odel o f pow er re
lations. To “cry ou t” and look for saving implies withdrawal from the
old system of “deed-consequence.”50 Thus the “cry/save” m ode o f re
ality delegitim ates the world o f “deed-consequence.” It asserts that
the system u pon which Israel relies has becom e a source o f oppres
sion an d exploitation. At different times that rejected system may be
(1) the Egyptian em pire, (2) Israel’s monarchy, (3) Israel’s torah, or
(4) the power and claim of Babylon.
V
T hus th e four-m em ber form ula of Judges com bines two contrasting
intellectual constructs, that o f “deed-consequence,” reflecting an or
d ered world o f stability, an d that o f “cry/save,” a daring departure
o n the basis of Yahweh’s responsiveness. T he two constructs h a d in
d ep e n d en t developm ent and only later were form ed into a unity.
T he o ne is m arked by a presum ption o f control, the o ther by risking
trust. We do no t know when or in what way the two formulas were
com bined. But we conclude it was a remarkably bold and imaginative
theological achievement.
If the form ula reflects the early liberated com m unity before the
m onarchy,51 o u r analysis suggests the form ula urges m ovem ent from
the world of im perial oppression with a m anaged epistemology52 to
the new world o f trust, freedom , and, hopefully, justice. T he use of
49. Probably too much should not be made of the verb “sell” in another context.
But the Yahweh o f liberation (Lev. 25:42) is one who does not “sell” his people.
Perhaps the saving God of the “cry out/save” construct is to be contrasted with all
the lords of the “deed-consequence” construct (including the Yahweh o f the estab
lishment) who “sell” their people (cf. Amos 2:6). On the juxtaposition of theological
and social implications of the Jubilee, see John H. Yoder, The Politics ofJesus (Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972), chap. 3.
50. George Mendenhall (“The Hebrew Conquest o f Palestine,” in The Biblical Ar
chaeologist Reader [Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970], 3:100-120) has urged that
the liberated community of early Israel is one that withdrew from and denied the
authority of the system, and in so doing formed an alternative.
51. This early placement is argued by Mendenhall on sociological grounds and
is perm itted by Beyerlin’s literary analysis. It is not impossible that Beyerlin’s law
suit interpretation can be understood in fresh ways in terms of the sociology of
withdrawal and liberation.
52. See Walter Brueggemann, “The Epistemological Crisis o f Israel’s Two Histo
ries (Jer. 9:22-23),” in Old Testament Theology: Essays in Structure, Theme, and Text
(Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992).
th e en tire fo rm u la su m m o n s Israel to shift fro m o n e life-world to an

oth er, with its altern ative th eo lo g ical, epistem ological, an d political
claim s.53
This suggests th at rep entance as a change o f life-worlds, both po
litical a n d theological, is n o t in the third elem ent (“cry ou t”) bu t
occurs between the two systems, that is, between the second an d third
elem ents of the form ula. T h a t is, the act of “cry[ing] out” reflects a
changed orientation th at is already accepted. T he decision has been
m ade to take a new risk. T he “cry” acknowledges n o t only a new
authority b u t also a new awareness o f the situation. Now it is recog
nized th at the world o f “deed-consequence” is untenably oppressive.
U ntil th at is recognized, there will be no “cry.” Thus the new act
o f “cry[ing] o u t” involves a new theological com m itm ent and new
political awareness.
T he use o f the form ula by the Deuteronom istic History may be
m uch m o re radical than has been recognized. It may m ean th at in
the late seventh century o r early sixth century, this theology u rg ed Is
rael to reject a m ode o f reality th at assumed coherence and offered a
system o f security. If, with Frank M. Cross,54 the D euteronom istic His
tory in its mcyor p art is dated before 587 B.c.E., it may be a radical
critique o f m onarchy an d even o f the Mosaic covenant as a source
of hope, when it h ad becom e a legal system to be “worked.” If, with
H ans W alter Wolff,55 the form ula is used in the exile, it may be a call
to Israel to awaken to its tru e situation in which it has no recourse
except to rely on Yahweh. E ither way such a sum m ons requires a
rejection o f all alternative form s of loyalty and security.56 Such a rad
ical call may be co ncerned with reliance on royal m odes of reality,
on torah-centered obedience, o r even on the seductive prom ises of
Babylon. T he shift from “deed-consequence” to “cry ou t/sav e” is in
53. See J. N. M. Wijngaards, “Death and Resurrection in Covenantal Context

(Hos. VI 2),” VT 17 (1967): 226-39.
54. Frank M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
Univ. Press, 1973), chap. 10.
55. Wolff, “The Kerygma o f the Deuteronomic Historical Work.”
56. Such a political-theological summons illuminates the exclusiveness of Deut.
6:5, which is programmatic for Deuteronomy. Cf. S. Dean McBride, “The Yoke of
the Kingdom,” Int 27 (1973): 273-306. He casts his exposition in terms of the
political and sociological dimensions of the texts.
Such a radical exclusiveness, when discerned sociologically, may illuminate Jesus’
call for discipleship. This is evident in his primal proclamation (Mark 1:14-15), which
implies a rejection of the other kingdom, and in the demand for clear choices
between kingdoms, as in Matt. 6:24; Mark 8:15.
deed an expectation o f a “new thing,” for the “old thing” has failed
(cf. Isa. 45:18-19).
Finally, we may observe that by jo in in g the two form ulas to
g eth er and treating them as one “system,” what was a bold attem pt
to place two formulas in juxtaposition has in p art served to tone
down an d dom esticate the second formula. Now the “cry ou t/sav e”
form ula functions in continuity with the former. W here the two
systems are contrasted, they are as radically in tension as the “deed-
consequence” system of Proverbs an d the bold protest o f Job. But
when they can be brought together, they becom e the m anaged, com
prehensive schem e of J o b ’s friends. It is the tendency of every system
o f m anagem ent to “contain” the dangers o f real repentance. It is the
work o f every dom esticated religion to make the free grace o f God
a p a rt of the system. W hat may have begun as a bold, revolutionary
proposal in time becomes a new legalism against which Jerem iah,
Ezekiel, Second Isaiah, and the poet of Jo b each m ust protest afresh.
T he final result gives the appearance of controlled and predict
able religion in the service o f a well-ordered and m anaged political
vision. T h at is a far cry from a risky world o f surprising gifts of power
in which even the spirit can rush (Judg. 3:10; 6:34; 9:23; 11:29; 13:25;
14:6, 19; 15:14, 19; 1 Sam. 10:6, 10; 11:6; 16:13; 18:10).
5
“Vine and Fig Tree”:
A Case Study in
Imagination and Criticism
T h e PROPHETIC TRADITION in Israel is characteristically

double-focused: on the o n e hand, it announces ju d g m en t o f what
is to be dism anded; on the o th er hand, it makes promises in antici
pation o f the newness yet to be given. Most succinctly, this has been
sum m arized in Jer. 1:10:
to pluck up and to break down,

to destroy and to overthrow,
to build and to plant.
O ne n ee d n o t be a reductionist to see that these two general

tendencies are at work.1
T he ways of p ro p h etic work are essentially rhetorical. While there
may be political interventions and acts, and symbolic, parabolic acts,2
the prim ary way o f the prophets is by speech. Such speech in Is
rael (cf. Jer. 1:10) is the use o f the word to do both the dism antling
1. Ronald Clements (“Patterns in the Prophetic Cause,” in Canon and Authority,

ed. George Coats and Burke Long [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977], 48-55) has seen
that, in its present form, the prophetic literature is organized around “a single
theme o f Israel’s destruction and renewal” (p. 48). In another way, I have sought
to speak of the same m atter in terms of criticizing and energizing ( The Prophetic
Imagination [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978]).
2. See Georg Fohrer, Die symbolischen Handlungen der Propheten, ATANT 54
(Zurich: Zwingli, 1968).
91
and the new evoking. W ithout addressing the m atter o f the “evoca
tive and effective power of the spoken word,”3 it is clear th at the
speech o f Israel’s poets did play upon the im agination of Israel, both
to b rin g old worlds to an en d and to initiate new worlds into their
awareness.
T he present study examines one such case in which the imag
inative speech o f the p ro p h et inaugurates a new world o f social
possibility an d in which an alternative use of the same figure calls the
old world into question. Specifically, the form ula “every m an u n d er
his vine an d u n d e r his fig tree” will be exam ined in its prom issory
use in Mic. 4:4 and in its critical use in 1 Kings 4:25 (Hebr. 5:5). It
is the prem ise o f the essay th at the two uses have some intentional
linkage, even though the precise connection is obscure. T hat is, the
usage in 1 Kings 4:25 cannot be fully understood apart from its pri
m ary and norm ative use, either in Mic. 4:4 or in a poetic, promissory
tradition beh ind that use. We hope to show here th at the two uses
(Mic. 4:4; 1 Kings 4:25) m ust be taken together for either of them
to be fully appreciated in term s o f its imaginative power to pluck u p
an d break down, to build an d to plant.
I
T he poem of Mic. 4:1-5 is an exam ple of imaginative use o f con
crete a n d anticipatory m etaphor to evoke an alternative world in
the consciousness o f Israel. O n critical grounds, it cannot be deter
m ined how old this promise-oracle is o r what its precise relationship
is to the parallel use in Isa. 2:2-4. Most com m entators are agreed
th at the oracle is n o t from the h an d o f Micah.4 H ere it is assum ed
that the oracle belongs to an older tradition o f prom ise, clearly ori
en ted to Zion.5 T hat it may n o t be from the m outh of the m an
M icah does n o t detract from the fact that it has now b een placed
3. Cf. Anthony C. Thiselton, “The Supposed Power of Words in the Biblical

Writings,” /T S 25 (1974): 283-99.
4. See the summary of scholarship by J. M. Powis Smith, Micah, Zephaniah and
Nahum, ICC (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1911), 83ff, and the comments of
James L. Mays, Micah, OTL (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1976), 95 n. a. As Mays
indicates, however, a case has been made for derivation from the prophet Micah.
5. This is the judgm ent of Brevard S. Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament as
Scripture (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979), 435. I do not find arguments for late dating
convincing, as in E. Cannawurf, “The Authenticity of Micah IV 1-4,” VT 13 (1963):
26-33.
“Vine and Fig Tree”: A Case Study 93
into the Micah tradition. A nd because of its juxtaposition to 3:9-

12, we may conclude th at it has b een m ost carefully placed.6 T h at
is, 3:9-12 an d this passage together bespeak the plucking up o f old
Zion an d th e em ergence o f a new Zion. T he connection between the
two may b e editorial, b u t the connection is m ore than an external
one based on catchwords. Rather, the juxtaposition in the present
form o f th e tradition concerns the end and the new beginning o f
Israel.
B ut beginning o u r study with this passage is n o t based on literary-
critical grounds. Rather, it is based on a theological judgm ent:
(1) Israel’s prim al speech is prom ise. The initiating com m unication
of this faith takes the form o f prom ise that is never justified o r ex
plained b u t only asserted. (2) Israel’s prim al m ode o f articulation is
poetry. It is poetry th at cannot be reduced or adm inistered b u t is
simply left as a subversive possibility.
So o u r beginning p o in t with this text is that Mic. 4:1-5 is a radical
assertion o f a poetic prom ise,7 designed to lead Israel to an alterna
tive reality. Admittedly, this is n o t a political strategy o r a concrete
action. It is only a practice o f im agination that presents an unthink
able, underived future. Those who heard this oracle (as well as those
who spoke it) were called to realities they could not see o r identify.
N or could they discern how such an anticipation could becom e a
reality.
T he practice o f such im agination perform s two rhetorical func
tions. O n the one hand, it introduces a sphere o f freedom . Israel
is invited to think ab out inexplicable futures that God may yet give,
that are beyond h u m an engineering. O n the o ther hand, the prom
ise subverts the present. It announces that the present system is n o t
absolute an d th at the m anagers o f the present (Zion) system have
n o t spoken the last w ord o r fully co-opted all the energies at work
in life.
T he oracle can be divided into two m ain parts, identified by
four uses o f the nam e o f God. T he rhetorical claims of the text are
m atched by the deliberate uses of the nam e of the deity. T he first
inclusio begins in verse 1 a n d is answered in verse 2b:
6. See Mays, Micah, 94, on the delicacy of this placement.

7. It is clear that v. 5 is somewhat disconnected from the preceding. It is clearly
a summons, likely liturgical, for a response to the promise. In the parallel of Isa. 2:2-
4, there is also such a summons, b u t somewhat weaker. It is also the case th at Mic.
4:4 is missing in the parallel of Isaiah 2. This rather striking departure is im portant
to our argument.
the mountain o f the house o f the Lord (v. lb ) . . .

the mountain of the L o rd . . .
the house of the God of J a c o b ... (v. 2b)8
This inclusio portrays the dram atic procession o f world powers,

th at is, self-contained systems o f security and m eaning. Those self-
contained systems here yield their authority and claims to power to
the God resident in Jerusalem , the God o f Israel. Thus the dram a
h ere enacted for the (liturgical?) im agination o f Israel presents a
shift o f royal/theological power. A reassignm ent o f roles am ong the
nations is do n e by the com ing o f the nations to Zion. And implicitly,
the com ing o f the nations m eans a yielding o f the gods identified
with those nations. T hat is, the nations no longer identified with
sundry gods, b u t now with the God o f Jerusalem . Thus the en th ro n e
m en t o f Yahweh here celebrated carries with it a d eth ro n e m en t of
all o th er gods. T he correlation of submission an d delegitim ation is
evidenced in the anticipations o f verse 2c:
that he may teach us his ways,

and we may walk in his paths.9
T he statem ent m eans a rejection o f o th er ways and o th er paths

(see below on v. 5). This conclusion stands outside the inclusio as
such. T he effect o f this added line is to show the consequences
o f the dram atic yielding ju st presented. T here has been a shift in
royal/heavenly power. And in verse 2c, there is an anticipation o f its
political results.
T he second part of the oracle m atches the first. Again, there is
an inclusio based on the references to God:
For out of Zion shall go forth the torah,

and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem ___(v. 2d)
For the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken, (v. 4b)
Thus the oracle in its m ain parts is crafted around two sets o f inclu-
sios. But they are very different in their them es. T he first has to do
with the residence and presence o f God (m o u n tain /h o u se). T he sec
on d concerns G od’s word an d will. T he first concerns royal domicile,
8. Mays, Micah, 94, has observed how these formulas also link the unit to 3:9-12.
9. O n the word “walk,” see below on v. 5. O n the political implications of this
vision, see Norman Gottwald, All the Kingdoms of the Earth (New York: H arper and
Row, 1964), 200-203.
divine sovereignty. I suggest that it asserts a new ordering o f heaven,

that is, a new rule am ong the gods who preside over the nations.
T he second concerns the torah and anticipates a new arrangem ent
on earth, th at is, am ong the nations. Thus the structure of the or
acle is theologically self-conscious. It is a new ordering in heaven
that m akes possible a new arrangem ent on earth. T he power shift
am ong th e gods is expressed as new policy now to be im plem ented
on earth .10
Inside th e second inclusio of verses 2b-4d are two m etaphors
articulating a possible new society, m ade possible because o f the
shift am ong the gods in the first inclusio. The first m etaphor is the
well-known im age o f disarm am ent:
They shall beat their swords into plowshares,

and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more.
But w hat is envisioned is n o t ju st the en d o f arms. The sweep o f this

oracle, I submit, concerns the end o f such public policy, such propa
ganda, such education an d psychology. W hat is envisioned is both
a transform ed public policy and a transform ed hum an conscious
ness.11 A nd all this happens because o f a new word from Yahweh,
prem ised on the submission and legitim ation in verses l-2a.
T he transform ing o f arm s is the first m etaphor in the second in
clusio, an d the best known. B ut we m ust give special attention to the
second m etaphor, which provides a counterthem e to this subversive
vision:
But12 they shall all sit under their own vines and under
their own fig trees, (nrsv)
10. The linkage between the two, religious power and social policy, is indicated by
Mays, Micah, 93: “ [T] he appearance of YHWH’s reign on earth will inaugurate an
imperial peace that transforms the conditions of life for nations and individuals.”
The linkage between Yahweh’s appearance and conditions o f life is much more
intentionally expressed by Norman Gottwald, The Tribes of Yahweh (Maryknoll, N.Y.:
Orbis, 1979). Implicit in Mays’s comm ent is the very connection Gottwald urges, a
connection that rejects every “idealistic interpretation.”
11. Norman Gottwald (The Church Unbound [New York: Lippincott, 1967], 72-73)
has provided a helpful com m ent on the passage: “Nations learn war. War is not
blind fate. It is learned. It is an instrum ent of social change in which many of
our unconscious and unadm itted instincts find expression. Those instincts can find
other outlets; war can be unlearned.'’
12. An adversative is used for a contrast to the armed world.
T he p o et is in touch with deep agrarian dreams. H e presents what

m ust be Israel’s m ost elem ental social hope. T hat hope is n o t simply
for a disarm ed world. It is m uch m ore personal. W hat one wishes
for is to be secure enough to produce and enjoy produce unm o
lested, eith er by lawlessness or the usurpation o f the state. While
o ur inclination may be to im agine the th reat to this personal dream
to be lawlessness, in what follows I hope to show th at it is, in fact,
usurpation of the state that is the m ain th reat.13
T he p o et ends on this m ost personal and intense hope, together
with the guarantee, “none to make afraid.” T he phrase seems to ap
peal to the old blessing tradition o f Lev. 26:6, ’en maharid, “no n e to
terrify.”14 By using that form ula, the p o et links the com ing, disarm ed
society to the oldest hope o f Israel. T he anticipated new society will
keep the prom ises Israel has cherished longest.
But the structure of this second inclusio is n o t rom anticism or
rootless im agination. T he p oet places back-to-back a large royal
dream o f disarm am ent (v. 3) with a personal agrarian dream of well
being (v. 4 a). T he poet sees th at there will be no personal well-being,
no lack o f terror, until there is an en d to the public policy o f war.
T he m ad pursuit of security by war, the m ad pursuit o f energy for
weapons, the reliance upon im perial adm inistration of resources—
all th at m ust be dism antled in o rd er for the personal dream to com e
true. Obviously, there can be no such personal well-being as long as
13. By contrasting the program of “swords and spears,” which reflects an imperial
war system, with that of “vines and fig trees,” which reflects a peasant economy and
peasant perception of reality, we may discern in this poem a dramatic conflict o f so
cial systems. As Norman Gottwald has made clear (“Were the Early Israelites Pastoral
Nomads?” in Rhetorical Criticism, ed. Jared J. Jackson and Martin Kessler [Pittsburgh:
Pickwick, 1974], 254-55), we may trace two economic systems in the ancient world,
the one enjoying concentration of surplus wealth for some at the expense of others,
the other based on equal consumption of wealth by the immediate producers of
wealth. In this passage, “vines and fig trees” represent the produce of a peasant
economy that is threatened by an alternative economy dependent on military power
and based on the power of the state to usurp. Gottwald follows Eric R. Wolf in
characterizing the peasants as the ones who must rely upon and protect their own
produce from its subsequent use by others. In that context, the much used formula,
“build houses and dwell in them, plant vineyards and drink their wine” (stated both
positively and negatively; cf. Amos 5:11; 9:14; Isa. 65:2; Jer. 29:28; Deut. 28:30), war
rants new investigation. Negatively and positively, it speaks about the safety of the
peasants in the face of the usurpation of the state. On the peasants in Israel, see the
summary of Gottwald, Tribes of Yahweh, chap. 46. In this same regard, see Albrecht
Alt, “Micha 2, 1-5 GES ANADASMOS in Ju d a,” in Kleine Schriften zur Geschichte des
Volkes Israel (Munich: C. H. Beck, 1959), 3:373-81.
14. For other uses of the formula, see Jer. 30:10; 46:27; Ezek. 34:28; 39:26; Zeph.
3:13; and negatively, Deut. 28:26; Isa. 17:2; Jer. 7:33.
there is war and th reat of war. But what denies that personal hope
is n o t simply hostility an d the th reat of hostility. Rather, the main
th reat to “vines an d fig trees” is the economics that sustain and re
quire war. W hat usurps vines an d fig trees is no t ju st invading armies
b u t the tax structure an d the profit system that are both cause and
effect o f military dangers. T h e poet envisions no t simply a cessation
o f war b u t the dism antling o f the war apparatus and, undoubtedly, a
m ajor econom ic displacem ent. Thus this may be an idyllic vision, bu t
it contains political realism at its center. T he oracle offers not only a
grand d ream b u t a realistic h in t o f what is required. T here will be no
peace w ithout a lowering o f consum erism to m atch the banishm ent
of arms. For the arms serve primarily either to usurp what belongs
to others o r to guarantee an arrangem ent already inequitable. T he
arms can n o t be given up w ithout abandoning swollen appetites as
well. T h ere is h ere no desire to claim this oracle for Micah in the
eighth century, b u t to observe th at such an interpretation fits well
with M icah’s strictures against the surplus-value practice o f the royal
econom y (see 2:1-5; 3:1-3).15 T he hope for an alternative m atches
the rhetorical dism antling o f the present arrangem ent.
Thus the oracle is a practice o f knowing, subversive political
im agination: (1) It is expressed as prom ise, as a critique o f the
present. (2) T he prom ise touches on ultim ate religious symbols, for
the gods are delegitim ated an d the nations subm it to Yahweh (first
inclusio). (3) T he prom ise touches public policy. It appeals to a deep
personal ho p e as a lever o n changed social policy that may dism antle
the so-called security system o f swords and speakers (second inclu
sio). A nd in th at connection, it is clear that the social im plications
involve n o t only disarm am ent. T he prom ise also anticipates lowered
econom ic expectations. It anticipates a m odest life-style o f n o t hav
ing m ore than o n e ’s own produce and therefore a respect for the
p roduce of others. It implies being ready to settle for o n e ’s own
vines an d figs w ithout yearning for o r coveting the vines and figs that
others produce. T he p o et knows th at the vines and fig trees o f others
will be safe only w hen the powerful are content with the grapes and
15. T hat this contrast should occur especially in Micah is illuminated by Hans
Walter Wolff, “Micah the Moreshite,” in Israelite Wisdom, ed. John G. Gammie et al.
(Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1978), 77-84; and more fully his “Wie verstand
Micha von Moreschet sein prophetisches Amt?” in Congress Volume: Gottingen, VTSup
29 (Leiden: Brill, 1978), 403-17. Wolff has argued that Micah speaks for the elders
of the village who hold to a view of reality in conflict with that of the Jerusalem
royal apparatus. Thus it makes sense that verse 4 on “vines and fig trees” should
occur in Micah and not in the parallel of Isaiah.
figs they them selves p ro d u ce . T hu s, this rad ical vision u n d erstan d s

th at a d ism antling o f th e m ilitary m a ch in e carries with it a b reak
with co n su m eristic values.
Taken as a unit, the poet com bines the subversion o f prom ise,
the transform ation o f religious symbols, an d a radical alternative so
cial policy. Taken together, these factors invite Israel to a dangerous
and liberated im agination o f how life may yet be ordered. T he oracle
is as radical and realistic in social anticipation as it is bold in theo
logical affirm ation. And the linkage between the social anticipation
an d theological affirmation is in the torah that stands ju s t betw een
the two inclusios in verse 2.
II
T he o th er task o f the prophets o f Israel is to “pluck up an d break
down,” th at is, to m ount an effective criticism o f the present arrange
ments. T he rhetoric of faithful Israel is to work an assault on such
arrangem ents to discredit a n d delegitim ate their claims upon the
people.
T he criticism regularly m ounted in ancient Israel is against pres
en t arrangem ents that terrify and usurp the life-goods from one
table to p u t them on another, m ore fortunate, table. We have seen
that such criticism is im plicit in the prom ise. But we can be m ore
precise. T he criticism m ounted in Israel tends n o t to be a tech
nical discussion o f this o r th at m aterial or strategy. Rather, it is a
fundam ental critique of the system th at claims too m uch. T he sys
tem criticized tends to contain all possibilities, to know everything
and prom ise everything. T he criticism is to assert th at the system is a
p o o r replica for the sovereignty o f Yahweh, who stands over against
every such pretension. It is the way o f the royal system in Israel to
dom esticate prom ises and contain im agination so th at everything
“im aginable” is already given in the p resen t order.
It is widely agreed that Solom on is the paradigm o f such a com
prehensive systems-approach to reality in ancient Israel.16 In the late
united monarchy, in im itation of ancient N ear Eastern counterparts,
the Solom onic pretense sought to be completely com prehensive.
The text reflective o f that system studied here is 1 Kings 4:20-28
16. See Frank M. Gross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic (Cambridge, Mass.:
Harvard Univ. Press, 1973), 237-73; George Mendenhall, “The Monarchy,” Int 29
(1975): 155-70.
(Hebr. 4:20-5:8). T he text appears to be a straightforw ard narrative

account. It may b e divided into two parts:
T he first p art is a b rief generalization:
Judah and Israel were as many as the sand by the sea; they ate and
drank and were happy. Solomon ruled over all the kingdoms from the
Euphrates to the land of the Philistines and to the border of Egypt;
they brought tribute and served Solomon all the days of his life. (w.
20-21 [Hebr. 4:20— 5:1])
T he statem ent reports u n p reced en ted well-being for Israel based

on bro ad dom inions and the resultant taxes from subservient peo
ples. T he juxtaposition of motifs is telling: w ell-being/dom inions/
subservience / taxes!
T he second p art (w. 22-28 [Hebr. 5:2-8]) gives the particulars to
illustrate th e m ain claim o f verses 20-21. Thus verse 20 asserts peace
an d prosperity. T h at is described in verses 22-25 (Hebr. 5:2-5):
Solomon’s provision for one day was thirty cors of choice flour, and
sixty cors of meal, ten fat oxen, and twenty pasture-fed cattle, one
hundred sheep, besides deer, gazelles, roebucks, and fatted fowl. For
he had dominion over all the region west of the Euphrates from
Tiphsah to Gaza, over all the kings west of the Euphrates; and he
had peace on all sides. During Solomon’s lifetime Judah and Israel
lived in safety, from Dan even to Beer-sheba, all of them under their
vines and fig trees, (nrsv )
Verse 21 (Hebr. 5:1) describes the dom inion and taxes th at make
it all possible. T h at is characterized in detail in verses 26-28 (Hebr.
5:6-8) with special attention to arm am ents. Thus the whole of verses
22-23 may be sum m arized:
verses 22-23 (Hebr. 5:2-3) prosperity at the king’s table, that is, for the
vast imperial apparatus;
verse 24a (Hebr. 5:4a) broadness of dominions that shows that the
old land-promises are now fulfilled;
verses 24b-25 (Hebr. 5:4b-5) a picture of idyllic peace and well-being;
verses 26-28 (Hebr. 5:6-8) administrative arrangements for collection of

taxes and deployment of arms.
O n the face o f it, we are given a com prehensive picture o f an af

fluent, secure, self-sufficient, prom ise-keeping regim e. Perhaps th at
is all that is in tended in the narrative. But w hen this rep o rt is con
sidered in light o f the prom ise o f Mic. 4:1-5, one may ask if this is
a simple narrative report, or if it is criticism couched in subde and
high irony, subtle enough to escape the vigilant censors and high
enough n o t to be missed by those who hold o ther visions.
We may identify irony at three points. First, in verse 20, “J u
dah an d Israel were m an y . . . ; they ate and drank an d were happy.”
T he claim is for a high standard o f living. But we know there is
only so m uch m aterial, energy, and consum er goods. A nd w hen
some have so m uch, som eone else is paying. So “Ju d a h an d Israel
w e re. . . happy.” But, we may ask, “W hich ones?” “W hich citizens?”
“W hich Judahites and which Israelites?” Certainly n o t all. W hen
some live so extravagandy, others m ust have paid. And, o f course,
the benefactors are the ones in the royal system, the ones regarded
as first-class citizens, well-connected, privy to how it all works.17 But
th at does n o t include everyone. T he evidence is disputed. But there
is evidence. In 1 Kings 9:22, Israel is carefully excluded from the
forced labor policy. (And forced labor is an im perial way o f having
some produce “surplus value” for the high standard o f living by the
others.) But 1 Kings 5:13 appears to be m ore candid, even if less
carefully loyal to Solomon. Perhaps we cannot decide between these
two kinds o f evidence.18 But it does n o t matter. E ither way, the p o in t
is th at prosperity and abundance in such extravagance are based on
slave-labor policy. It could no t be otherwise. Affluence and security
are linked to oppression and dom ination. Some share the dream ful
17. George Mendenhall (“The Shady Side of Wisdom,” in A Light unto My Path,
ed. Howard N. Bream, R. D. Heim, and Casey A. Moore [Philadelphia: Temple
Univ. Press, 1974], 321-25) has a trenchant characterization of the development
of this “class” in society. Brian Kovacs (“Is There a Class-Ethic in Proverbs?” in
Essays in Old Testament Ethics, ed. James L. Crenshaw and John T. Willis [New York:
KTAV, 1974], 171-89) and Robert Gordis (Poets, Prophets and Sages [Bloomington:
Indiana Univ. Press, 1971], 160-97) have made a beginning in tracing the vested
interest in the teaching of this class. But I do not think we have fully grasped
the connection between the intelligence of this group and the economic interest that
it sustains and legitimates. That connection, I submit, is evident in this text from
Solomon. Glendon E. Bryce (A Legacy of Wisdom [Lewisburg, Pa.: Bucknell Univ.
Press, 1979], chaps. 6-8) has offered a helpful review of the political function of
wisdom in Solomon’s court.
18. Jo h n Bright (Λ History of Israel [Philadelphia: Westminster, 1972], 281) notes
the problem and draws a conclusion including Israel in the program. See his n. 92
on the counteropinion by Noth. Martin Noth (The History of Israel [New York:
Harper and Row, 1960], 211) concludes, “[I]t would have been a monstrous in
fringement o f their legal rights on the king’s part to have compelled them to do
forced labor.” But that is precisely the point.
filled. O thers pay for it. A nd it does no t m atter greatly if these others
are Israelites. Such a consum ing enterprise with such a gargantuan
appetite is n o t likely to discrim inate. T he “peace and prosperity”
system o f Solom on is surely a system o f exploitation, as is evident
in 1 Kings 11-12. A nd th at makes us alert to the possible irony in
verse 21 (Hebr. 5:1).
Second, th ere may well be irony in the curt note of verse 24
(Hebr. 5:4): “peace on all sides.” Again it appears that Lev. 26:5 is
invoked. T h at is, Solom on is the em bodim ent of all the oldest, m ost
previous promises. T he old prom ise had been for “peace on every
side.” A nd now Israel u n d e r Solom on has it. But this uncritical “real
ized eschatology” is undoubtedly for some at the expense o f others.
T he irony in the text suggests that we ask about such systems o f se
curity an d m eaning: W ho benefits? W ho eats well? W ho has peace?
T h at is, cui bono?
We have seen th at the old prom ise o f Lev. 26:6 is at play in the
prom ise o f Mic. 4:4. A n d it likely is used in 1 Kings 4:25 (Hebr. 5:5),
“Ju d a h an d Israel lived in safety,” labetah (cf. Lev. 26:5). Thus both
Mic. 4:4 an d 1 Kings 4:25 (Hebr. 5:5) appeal to the prom ise o f Lev.
26:5-6, w here the blessing is “peace on all sides” and “dwell in safety.”
T he statem ents o f M icah 4 an d 1 Kings 4 are no t completely parallel.
But they are close en ough to indicate that both draw on the same
tradition o f blessing. And it may well be that this ironic text is n o t
unfam iliar with th e prom ise tradition reflected in Mic. 4:1-4.
But it is the th ird indication o f irony that claims our attention.
T he very dream o f Mic. 4:4 is reiterated here:
During Solomon’s lifetim e. . . all of them under their vines and fig
trees. . .
T he quintessential dream used by the promise-oracle to protest stat-

ism (th at is, systems o f swords an d spears) is now co-opted by the
pro p ag an d a o f the state. T he elem ental dream of liberation from
state usurpation is now preem p ted to support the very ideology of
usurpation by the state. T h at is, the very same m etaphor is now taken
in a reverse way to su pport the system it was intended to criticize. It
is strikingly odd to find this irenic vision now set in verse 25 (Hebr.
5:5) b o u n d ed in verse 24 (Hebr. 5:4) by a report of im perial b ound
aries an d in verse 26 (Hebr. 5:6) by a reference to forty thousand
horses an d twelve thousand horsem en. And the whole is ro u n d ed off
in verses 27-28 (Hebr. 5:7-8) with a recipe for the acquisitive society.
T he irony is com plete. The foundation o f personal well-being in a

stable, equitable society had been affirm ed in Mic. 4:l-419 at the cost
of acquisitive “social security.” T hat is, to have a vine an d fig tree,
one m ust give up swords an d spears. Now that radical, subversive,
alternative im agination is reduced to an im perial slogan.
T h e form al construction o f the ironic statem ent is evident. It
consists in taking this statem ent about “vines and fig trees” (which
I ju d g e to be old and familiar) and setting it in the utterly incongru
ous context o f Solomonic arms and oppression. T h at form al device
is confirm ed by the substance o f the irony. T he state practices greed,
usurpation, an d exploitation. It is an em bodim ent o f crass im pinge
m en t u p o n personal well-being.20 It is n o t anarchy b u t state policy
that leaves everyone unsure and terrified. It is the state system th at
claims an d consumes and devours every fig from every personal fig
tree an d every grape from every personal vine.
By any objective criterion, the state system is organized against
the fundam ental dream of Mic. 4:4. T he present royal, prosaic prac
tice is diametrically opposed to the poetic future o f the prophetic
oracle. And yet the royal system m anages to co-opt the very thing it
opposes. It pretends to guarantee the very thing it refutes.
Finally, o f course, we cannot know if 1 Kings 4:20-28 (Hebr.
4:20— 5:8) is a serious statem ent o f state policy o r if it is heavyhanded
propaganda or if it is subtle, critical irony. W hat is clear is that by
such shrewd m anipulation, the propaganda of the state prom ises the
very thing it cannot give because it is in principle opposed to it. And
the rem ain d er o f the Solom onic narrative makes the point: it can
n o t secure personal vines an d fig trees for its citizenry because it is
fundam entally devoted to a rapacious use o f those very products. It
19. Gottwald (Tribes of Yahweh) has used the term “egalitarian” to characterize
this society. It is most plausible that “vines and fig trees” embody the notion of an
egalitarian society. But as Gerhard Lenski (Power and Privilege [New York: McGraw-
Hill, 1966]) has made clear, an egalitarian society is incompatible with an economy
based on surplus value. Thus a criticism of the Solomonic enterprise invites a move
not only to equal distribution but also to much more modest production and much
more modest consumption.
20. See again the statement of Noth cited in n. 17, above. He terms it a “m on
strous im pingement.” The Solomonic arrangement is to be understood in terms of
the radical shift of economic arrangements and benefits. This is especially evident
in the program o f redistricting in 1 Kings 4:7-19, which envisioned and accom
plished an im portant economic realignment. Already in 1965, G. Ernest Wright (in
an SBL paper) argued that the report must be understood economically in terms of
the concentration of great wealth in the hands of the bureaucracy. Gottwald ( Tribes
of Yahweh, 368) speaks of “bureaucratic rationality.”
cannot give u p th at rapacious use w ithout at the same time aban

doning its p retense o f being an inclusive system that can keep every
prom ise.21
Ill
T he arg u m en t o f this discussion depends upon and points to the
juxtaposition o f these two texts. T heir relation cannot be firmly es
tablished on critical grounds. But a case can be m ade for their
deliberate juxtaposition on grounds of theological probability. It is
evident, I think, th at th e prom ise passage, whenever it is dated, m ust
be p rio r to the narrative re p o rt on Solomon. T he strident claim o f
1 Kings 4:25 (Hebr. 5:5) makes sense only if it is an appeal to a
traditional prom ise.
So, my argum ent is a very simple one. T he use o f the “vine and
fig tree” m etap h o r in Mic. 4:1-4 shows a p oet in Israel practicing
bold im agination, evoking an alternative com m unity yet anticipated.
A nd on th e basis o f that, the narrative o f 1 Kings 4:20-28 (Hebr.
4:20—5:8) is an exam ple o f ironic criticism, designed to show that
the p resen t royal order, absolute and com prehensive in its claims,
cannot keep its prom ises. Thus the juxtaposition of the texts shows
juxtaposition of im agination that describes (and evokes) an alter
native fu tu re an d criticism th at exposes the pretense o f present
ideology. T he two texts together p oint to the unm istakable incon
gruity o f the claims o f the Solom onic system.
Micah 4:1-4 shows the deep, irrevocable opposition between
swords an d spears, on the one hand, and vine and fig trees, on the
other. Israel can n o t have both, n o t both the old peasant vision and,
at the sam e time, the new vision o f statism. T he hard question Is
rael’s faith asks o f every system of security and m eaning is w hether it
can give reality to deepest hopes, o r if it is in principle diametrically
opposed to such promises.
“Vines and fig trees” are m odest, peasant dream s. They do n o t
ask for m uch. They are n o t royal dreams. The issue posed by this
21. It is beyond question that the Solomonic enterprise disintegrated because of

oppressive social policy and labor practice. For our purposes, it is im portant that
these policies are not careless aberrations but are the goal o f the system. The final
result of exploitation is based on the combination of a consumer economy and a
class-defending “wisdom.” As Bryce (A Legacy, chap. 8) has indicated, such wisdom
not only is propaganda for others but also is the articulation of a self-deceiving
legitimation.
juxtaposition in Israel is about the m odest claims an d the new state

promises. T he royal system always prom ises “m ore.” A nd that is con
trasted with th e lower expectations of the deep dream that refuses
great oppressive instrum ents for fulfillment. It appears the criticism
in this juxtaposition is no t ju st that the m eans are wrong b u t th at the
goals are also wrong. With the goals inevitably com e inequitable and
oppressive means.
T h e juxtaposition o f the im agination o f Mic. 4:1-4 an d the criti
cism o f 1 Kings 4:20-28 (Hebr. 4:20— 5:8) perm its an observation o f
incongruity. In o u r society (and one may hazard it is regularly so), it
is the case th at those who hold to the m ost intim ate dream s o f per
sonal vines and fig trees (that is, “get the governm ent off o u r backs”)
are also those who hold m ost passionately to a war system to create
an um brella o f security. These texts together point to the fundam en
tal contradiction in such a posture. It is contradictory to cherish
freedom from state usurpation and at the same tim e to hold for a
war system o f protection; for the war system can exist only by confis
cating the very thing it claims to protect. T he prophetic tradition of
Israel, am ong o th er things, pointed to that contradiction. T he con
tradiction survived only by a delicate balancing act, balancing th at
got o u t o f kilter at the death o f Solom on. And for a m om ent, the
old dream was liberated from the ideology o f the state (cf. 1 Kings
12:16).
T he juxtaposition leads m e to m ake three m ethodological obser
vations:
1. O f course, I have taken a bold risk in linking these texts when
the critical basis for doing so cannot be established. I do n o t argue fi
nally th at the texts ought to be arranged in this way, though I believe
th at the prom ise tradition m ust be very old o r appeal to it would n o t
be m ade in 1 Kings 4:25 (Hebr. 5:5). But my m ethodological p oint
is th at there is enorm ous heuristic value in such a juxtaposition even
though it is based only on the recurrence o f the same form ula in
bo th texts. T he pursuit o f such a form ula adm its only a provisional
linking of texts, but, nonetheless, a very telling linking.
2. T he interface of Mic. 4:1-5 and 1 Kings 4:20-28 (Hebr. 4:20—
5:8) confirms the dialectic o f im agination and criticism. Only a
radical practice o f im agination, the characterizing o f alternative fu
tures, provides ground for criticizing the present. Only the sharp
articulation of “things ho p ed for” perm its awareness of how the
best hopes have becom e instrum ents o f oppressive policy. T he hope
is reduced to a strategy for administrative hopelessness. Prophetic
im agination seems to liberate Israel’s hopes from ideological systems

th at have co-opted the hopes.
B ut the dialectic works the o th er way as well. Only the discern
m en t o f th e ideological dim ension of present policy and present
power arrangem ents can let us see how radical, dangerous, and sub
versive are the genuine visions o f this faith. Only the recognition of
vested in terest at work perm its us to see the boldness o f a genuinely
disinterested vision.
Criticism m ust begin in im agination. T he rep o rt of 1 Kings 4:20-
28 (Hebr. 4:20—5:8) can be understood only in light o f the poem of
Mic. 4:1-5. Israel (in the poetic, prophetic tradition o f im agination)
u n d erstood th at such radical sketches o f hope are the only ground
from which to resist the ideologies that devour the grapes and sell
the figs for m ore chariots.
3. T h o u g h it has n o t b een my prim ary concern, my juxtaposition
of texts raises the question o f the political function o f the prom is
sory oracle. It is suggested th at the prom ise has a political function,
even if it is n o t always intentional. Its function is to criticize closed
systems o f m eaning an d security th at dom inate and com prehend the
present. T h at subversive action is done by evoking in the im agination
alternative scenarios o f how it m ight be and how it is going to be.
Such an act o f im agination makes one hold the present arrangem ent
m uch m ore provisionally a n d tentatively.
T h at observation may be an im portant one for m ethod. It is
worth no tin g th at th e d om inant scholarly tradition has regarded
m ost such prom issory oracles as late. To be sure, that has been done
on literary-critical grounds. B ut the tacit assum ption inform ing such
a critical ju d g m e n t is th at hope belongs to times of trouble, that
is, exile. T he negative co u n terp art is that hope is unnecessary (or
im possible) in times o f prosperity. And so hope is banished from sit
uations o f well-being. T h at is, on “critical grounds,” the subversion of
hope is silenced, and the ideology o f the closed systems o f prosperity
and oppression is left w ithout critique. A nd when hope is banished,
criticism has no base.22 Specifically in this case, if the oracle o f Mic.
4:1-5 is “late,” th en perhaps one cannot detect any critique in the
narrative re p o rt o f 1 Kings 4:20-28 (Hebr. 20:5-8).
22. M endenhall (“The Shady Side of Wisdom,” 323) observes: “For it is true that
the products of technical specialization are intended to impress: to neutralize or
overcome any possible exercise of critical faculties on the part of those who are not
part of the specialized group.”
Against a presupposition th at in the end is ideological, we have

urged th at in term s o f well-being such hope is urgent. This does n o t
dictate a revision o f our critical judgm ents about prom issory oracles,
b u t it may lead to a review o f the presuppositions th at have inform ed
critical judgm ents. It may be, as in the time o f Micah, that hope is
precisely for times o f well-being when the closed systems o f m eaning
and security have preem pted the field. T hat theological possibility
suggests a different basis for critical judgm ents.
IV
O ne o th er text that uses the form ula o f vines an d fig trees may
be cited.23 I cite it because, in term s o f function, it may be placed
midway between the im agination o f Mic. 4:1-5 and the criticism o f
1 Kings 4:20-28 (Hebr. 4:20—5:8). T he form ula occurs in 1 Macc.
14:4-15, specifically in verse 12. T he climate o f 1 M accabees is, o f
course, very different from either the radical, critical hope o f Mic.
4:1-5 or the ideological or ironic rep o rt on Solom on in 1 Kings
4:20-28 (Hebr. 4:20—5:8). This is a victory narrative by an oppressed
com m unity recently liberated, a m inority com m unity for a m om ent
given its own way in history. This text is a buoyant, even strident cel
ebration o f Simon, the one who b rought victory. T he text has echoes
of the celebration o f Solomon and proceeds in the same way. In
verse 12, o u r phrase occurs:
All the people sat under their own vines and fig trees,
and there was none to make them afraid, (nrsv)
23. The formula “vine and fig tree” is used in various other contexts. In Jer. 5:17,
the threat is that the foreign nation will devour the produce of Judah. In Hos. 2:12
(Hebr. 14), Yahweh will destroy the produce. In Joel, the m etaphor is used both
negatively (1:12) and positively (2:22) for the destruction by the locusts and the
deliverance from them. In Hag. 2:19, the phrase is a general formula for blessing;
and in Zech. 3:10, it is a way o f speaking about the well-being to come with the
arrival of the Branch.
The most interesting and telling use is in the Assyrian proposal of surrender
(2 Kings 18:31 = Isa. 36:16). The Assyrian emissary offers that policy as an alternative
to the failed policy of royal Judah. That idyllic promise is held out but is immedi
ately followed by an announcem ent of deportation, to an even better situation. Thus
the oldest peasant dream of well-being is not only used by the propaganda o f Sol
omon, but is also placed in the mouth of the invaders. The incongruity of promise
and promise-maker is intensified when the phrase is in an Assyrian mouth. (For
what it is worth, the fig tree is linked to the practice of “messianic imagination” in
John 1:48-50: "You shall see greater things than these.”)
“Vine an d Fig Tree”: A Case Study 107
A nd this claim is sup p orted by the statem ent of verse 8:
They tilled their land in peace,

the ground gave its increase,
an d th e trees o f the plains their fruit, (nrsv)
T he text, as n o ted above, is im portant for o u r purposes because it

seems to stand midway betw een ideological claims of the kind m ade
for Solom on an d the prom issory im agination of Mic. 4:1-5. O n the
one han d , it is no lo nger imaginative hope because it does n o t an
ticipate. It celebrates what is, in fact, in hand, a new distribution
o f freedom , power, a n d goods. History has already turned, even if
briefly, to fulfill expectation. T he threat of foreign taxes and ex
ploitation has b een en ded.24 T here is safe space for personal vines
and fig trees. T he m etap h o r is used to speak both o f a political tu rn
w rought by the M accabees an d of an act of God.
O n the o th er han d , this text is n o t yet ideology, as the M accabean
m ovem ent so soon becam e. T here is nothing here yet o f the crass
militarism, exploitation, an d self-serving stance that so soon infected
the Hasm oneans. T he text, however, is at the brink o f ideology, as is
evidenced by the military strutting that is reported:
Old men sat in the streets;

they all talked together of good things;
and the youths donned the glories and garments of war. (v. 9)
T he laten t m ilitarism here bespeaks a com ing oppressive ideology.

But th ere is still only a hint. This text lives at the precarious, pre
cious m o m en t ju s t after prom issory im agination and criticism and
ju s t before ideological stridency.
This celebration o f Sim on is im portant. It gives us a rare glimpse
of a text in m ovem ent as it slides quickly from critical im agina
tion to conventional ideology. And Israel in the prophetic tradition
u n d erstood th at it is in th at m om ent that faithfulness is to be
practiced.
24. Martin Hengel (Judaism and Hellenism [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1974], 1:28)
concludes: “These excessive tax demands will have helped the Maccabean indepen
dence movement and are perhaps the real cause for the smouldering of revolt after
the death of Judas Maccabaeus.”
V
Finally, we m ake one m ore retu rn to Mic. 4:1-5, this tim e to consider
verse 5. T h at verse is likely a cultic form ula o f sum m ons asking for
a response on the p art of the com m unity at worship. T he parallel
use in Isa. 2:2-4 also contains a sum m ons, b u t a m uch weaker one. It
appears there is m uch m ore at stake in the Micah version:
For all the peoples walk

each in the name of its god,
but we will walk in the name of the Lord our God,
forever and ever.
The form ula is constructed around two uses of the verb “walk.”25 T he
contrast o f the two uses is sharp and clear. T he p o et knows there are
alternative gods. And he knows that alternative gods bring with them
alternative social systems. He knows th at the gods an d nations who
reject Yahweh’s kingship (cf. the first inclusio of w. l-2a) are accom
panied with alternative social systems that practice swords and spears,
that resist plowshares and pruning hooks, that confiscate vines a n d
usurp fig trees (cf. the second inclusio o f w. 2c-4). T h at is, the sum
m ons ab out the “walk” understands th at a choice for a god is also
a choice for a social system. And, therefore, a change o f gods, to
which Israel is called, is a radical disengagem ent from an absolutist
system o f m eaning and security. It is the “alternative walk” in verse 2
th at stands between the two inclusios. And that distinctive “walk” is
according to torah.
T h e statem ent about walking in the nam e o f Yahweh is a de
cision ab out religious loyalty b u t also a decision about alternative
social practice, radical disarm am ent, trust in plowshares an d pruning
hooks, reliance on simple produce, an d rejection o f the gifts given
by the royal war-machine. T he sum m ons of verse 5 is dangerous an d
polem ical— dangerous, because it rejects the gifts given by the ab
solute royal system; polemical, because it exposes the system as one
incapable o f doing what it says. T he choice is pressed because the
oracle affirms th at swords and spears are an utterly impossible route
to vines and fig trees, which Israel so craves. This, it appears, is the
in ten t o f this summons, if it is taken as a ju d g m en t drawn from the
preceding promissory oracle.
25. For a general discussion o f the theological m otif o f “walk,” see James
Muilenburg, The Way of Israel (New York: H arper and Brothers, 1961), 33-38.
It can n o t be shown, o f course, th at verse 5 is to be linked closely

to the Solom onic enterprise. But the juxtaposition of Mic. 4:1-5 and
1 Kings 4:20-28 (Hebr. 4:20—5:8) perm its a suggestion in that direc
tion. And th e suggestion is th at the sum m ons of verse 5 may provide
a clue to th e shape o f the Solom onic narrative. We have suggested
that the Solom onic narrative is shaped in ironic fashion. Now we
may press one specific possibility.
In 1 Kings 3:3, as is well known, the narrative begins, “Solom on
loved th e L ord.” And in 3:14, th at he loved the Lord is concretized
as “walk in all my ways” (cf. 9:4). Thus Solom on is prepared to walk
faithfully, as the sum m ons o f Mic. 4:5 suggests. (The “walk” in Mic.
4:5 refers to torah [v. 2] as surely as the “walk” in 1 Kings 3:14 refers
to statutes a n d com m andm ents.)26
In contrast, at the conclusion o f the Solom onic narrative when
the em pire is ab out to disintegrate, the narrator concludes, “Solo
m on loved many foreign w om en” (11:1), a knowing antithesis to 3:3.
And this is concretized in 11:5, 10, where he walked after many for
eign gods (cf. 9:6), which resulted in dom ination and oppression.
Thus we may sum m arize the n ext juxtaposition:
loved Yahweh ( 3 :3 ) .. .walk in my ways. . . [yields well-being],

loved foreign women ( 1 1 :1 ) .. .walked after foreign gods. . . [yields
oppression].
T he p o in t may n o t be pressed th at Mic. 4:5 in any direct way is re

lated to Solom on. And in d eed the word “walk” is too m uch used to
claim anything. But th e juxtaposition is a telling one to link even
m ore tightly the im agination o f the prom ise an d the criticism o f the
narrative. T he sum m ons o f Mic. 4:5 is to decide about alternative
walks, walks th at have to do with loyalties am ong the gods and with
the im plem entation o f social policy. Solom on begins with a passion
for Yahweh’s to rah (1 Kings 3:14; cf. Mic. 4:2) and ends with o th er
gods, which leads to chariots an d horsem en, swords and spears (cf.
Mic. 4:3).
T he linkages should n o t be pressed. But attention to the m eta
p h o r o f “vines an d fig trees” suggests a rem arkable juxtaposition.
It also suggests th at attention to social function and vision, social
26. On the significance of v. 14 for the entire passage and on the intent of “walk”
as a form of obedience, see the careful analysis of Helen Ann Kenik, Design for
Kingship: The Deuteronomistic Narrative Technique in 1 Kings 3:14-15, SBLDS 69 (Chico,
Calif.: Scholars Press, 1983), 163-69.
interest and power, is im portant in o u r reading of the text. T he po

etic claims o f the oracle function in political, subversive ways. And
they perm it the possibility th at in the m idst o f propaganda, we may
discern critical irony.
6 ^_____________________________________________________
A t the Mercy of Babylon:

A Subversive Rereading of the Empire
B lB LIC A L THEOLOGY as a study of Israel’s faithful speech may

be said to revolve aro u n d two organizing questions. T he first ques
tion o f biblical theology is, “How does Israel speak about God?”
Israel characteristically does not speak about God unless it speaks
at the sam e tim e ab o ut the world in which God is present and over
which G od governs. For th at reason, the second question o f bibli
cal theology is, “W hat else m ust Israel talk about w hen it talks about
God?” It belongs decisively to the character of this God, as artistically
ren d ered in Israel’s text, always to be engaged in ways th at im pinge
bo th u p o n God an d u p o n G od’s “other.” O ne aspect of th at G od-
o th er engagem ent th at is typical of Israel’s theological speech is God
in relation to the nations. T he G od of Israel is a God who deals with
the nations, and the nations inescapably deal with the God o f Israel.
T ogether they form a com m on subject in Israel’s theological speech.
I
The great powers, n o rth an d south, dom inate Israel’s public life
and policy.1 In this chapter, I will pay attention to one o f the great
1. On the bipolar geopolitical situation of Israel, see Abraham Malamat, “The

Kingdom of Judah between Egypt and Babylon: A Small State within a Great Power
Confrontation,” in Text and Context, ed. Walter Claassen, JSOTSup 48 (Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic Press, 1988), 117-29.
Ill
11 2 A Social Reading of the Old Testament
n o rth ern powers, Babylon, and the way in which Babylon enters into
Israel’s speech about God. While Babylon may be regarded as simply
one am ong several great powers that concern Israel, it is also clear
that Babylon peculiarly occupies the im agination o f Israel.
Babylon goads and challenges Israel’s theological im agination in
remarkably varied ways. As a theological m etaphor, Babylon is no t
readily dismissed or easily categorized. Indeed, in the postexilic pe
riod, it is Babylon and not Persia that continues to function as a
powerful theological m etaphor for Israel. Babylon operates in a sup
ple way in Israel’s theological speech because Babylon is a p artn er
and antagonist in Israel’s political life and is perceived as a p artn e r
and antagonist worthy of Yahweh. As Yahweh cannot be settled or
reduced in Israel’s discernm ent, so Babylon cannot be settled or re
duced, b u t rem ains as a tensive, energizing force in Israel’s faith and
im agination. Moreover, if the experience o f exile was decisive for
the canonizing process, as seems m ost probable, then it is equally
probable th at Babylon takes on imaginative power th at is n o t sim
ply historical an d political bu t canonical in force, significance, and
density.
By considering the theological function o f Babylon, we are con
cerned with the question, W hat happens to speech about Babylon w hen
it is drawn into the sphere o f speech about God? In a lesser fash
ion, we will also ask, W hat happens to speech about God w hen God is
drawn into the sphere of speech about the em pire? In posing these
questions, it is clear that we are taking up issues o f artistic construal
th at are n o t fully contained in historical and political categories. As
George Steiner has said of great art in general, we are dealing in the
Bible n o t simply with a form ulation bu t with a reform ulation and a
rethinking.2 We are concerned with a canonizing process w hereby Is
rael voices its normative, paradigm atic construal of im perial power.
Israel’s rhetoric at the interface o f God and em pire is a concrete at
tem pt to hold together the inscrutable reality o f God (which is at
the cen ter o f its rethought world) and the raw power o f the em pire
(which is a daily reality o f its life). Israel’s self-identity, presence in
the world, and chance for free action dep en d upon how these two
are held together.
By jo in in g speech about God to speech about Babylon, Israel’s
faith radically rereads the character of the em pire, consistendy
2. George Steiner (Real Presences [Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press, 1989], 44)
writes of “un-ending re-reading” and reevaluation.
A t the Mercy o f Babylon: A Subversive Rereading of the Empire 113
subverting every conventional reading of the em pire in which com

placent Babylon an d intim idated Israel m ust have colluded. T hat
is, Babylon presented itself as autonom ous, invincible, and perm a
nent. W hen Israel en tered fully into the ideology o f Babylon (and
ab an d o n ed its own covenantal definitions o f reality), it accepted this
characterization o f Babylon and, derivatively, its own fate as com
pletely defined by Babylonian reality. This is a classic exam ple o f the
ph en o m en o n , n o ted by Marx, o f the victim willingly participating in
the ideology o f th e p erpetrator.3 This conventional collusion about
power practiced by p erpetrators and victims is controverted, how
ever, in Israel’s alternative reading, which is deeply and inherently
subversive. W hen Israel, in a Yahwistic context, could discern that
Babylon was n o t as it presented itself, then Israel did not n eed to
define its own situation so hopelessly. Thus Yahwistic faith makes an
alternative to im perial ideology available to those who live from this
counterrhetoric.
II
1 have selected six texts concerning Babylon on which to focus.
These texts are: Jer. 42:9-17; Jer. 50:41-43; Isa. 47:5-7; 1 Kings 8:46-53;
2 C hron. 36:15-21; an d Dan. 4:19-27.4 My thesis, which I will expli
cate in relation to these texts, is that when Israel’s speech about
Babylon is drawn into Israel’s speech concerning God, the power
o f the em pire is envisioned an d reconstructed around the issue of
mercy (rhm,).s T he intrusion o f the rhetoric of mercy into the re-
alpolitik o f Babylon derives from the uncom prom ising character of
God. It also arises from the deepest yearning o f the exilic com m u
nity, which m ust have mercy to live, which expects mercy from God,
3. See Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, The German Ideology, Part One, ed. C. J.
A rthur (London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1970), 64-68.
4. The texts on Babylon that I will not consider include Isaiah 13-14; materials
in Isaiah 40—55; references in the Ezekiel collection of oracles against the nations;
2 Chron. 30:6-9; and Dan. 1:5-9.
5. In the texts I will consider, there are two exceptions to the use of the term
rhm. In 2 Chron. 36:15-21, the term is hml. In Dan. 4:24, the term used is hnn. Both
these terms, however, belong in the same semantic field as rhm. On the political,
public dimensions of rhm, see Michael Fishbane, “The Treaty Background of Amos
1:11 and Related Matters,” JBL 89 (1970): 313-18; and Robert B. Coote, “Amos
1:11: RHMYW,” JBL 90 (1971): 206-8. O n the intimate, interpersonal nuances of
the term, see Phyllis Trible, God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality, OBT (Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1978), 31-59.
and which by venturesom e rhetoric dares to insist th at the prom ised,

yearned-for mercy cannot be ignored by the em pire.
1. feremiah 42:9-17. In its final form the book o f Jerem iah has a
decidedly pro-Babylonian slant, m ediated through the B aruch docu
m en t an d perhaps powered by the authority an d influence o f the
family o f S haphan.6 T he sustained urging of the text is th at the
people of Jerusalem m ust stay in the jeopardized city an d subm it
to the occupying presence of Babylon and n o t flee to Egypt. This an
n o u n cem en t reflects a political ju d g m en t an d a political interest that
cooperation with Babylon is a safer way to survival. This voice o f ad
vocacy also concluded that cooperation with Egypt would only cause
heavier, m ore destructive Babylonian pressure. T hat political ju d g
m ent, however, is given as an oracle of God. T he urging, therefore,
is n o t simply political strategy b u t is offered as the in ten t o f G od for
G od’s people. Thus the oracle is no t simply speech concerning the
em pire b u t also speech about God.
T he oracle of Jerem iah 42 is cast in two conditional clauses: one
positive, “i f ’ you rem ain in the city (w. 10-12); the o th er negative,
“i f ’ you flee to Egypt (w. 13-17). T he positive conditional clause is
cast as a prom ise th at God will re p en t o f evil an d issues in a salvation
oracle:7
Do not fear the king of Babylon

of whom you are afraid.
Do not fear him, says the Lord, for I am with you
to deliver you from his hand. (v. 11)
The Jerem iah tradition takes a conventional speech form, the salva
tion oracle, an d presses it into new use. T he conventional form is
“do n o t fear,” followed by an assurance. H ere, however, the form is
daringly extended to identify the one n o t to be feared, the king of
6. Christopher R. Seitz (Theology in Conflict: Reactions to the Exile in the Book of

Jeremiah, BZAW 176 [Berlin: de Gruyter, 1989]) has discerned the conflicting and
competing ideologies concerning exile present in the book of Jeremiah. On the
peculiar and decisive role o f the family of Shaphan in the Jerem iah tradition, see
j. Andrew Dearman, “My Servants the Scribes: Composition and Context in Jeremiah
36,”JBL 109 (1990): 403-21.
7. O n the theological implications o f this text, see Terence E. Fretheim, The
Suffering of God, OBT (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984), 138-44; and Francis I. Andersen
and David N. Freedman, Amos: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary,
AB 24A (New York: Doubleday, 1989), 659-63.
A t the Mercy of Babylon: A Subversive Rereading of the Empire 115
Babylon.8 Moreover, the speech form is utilized exacdy to juxtapose

the fearsom e power o f N ebuchadnezzar an d the resolve o f the Lord,
“Do n o t fear him ___I will deliver.” The oracle counters 'the em pire
with G od’s good resolve. T he assurance of God continues:
I will grant you mercy [rahamim]

that [ w '] he will have mercy on you,9
and let you remain in the land. (v. 12)
T he connection betw een “I” an d “h e” (the king of Babylon) is

elusive, bridged only by a waw consecutive. The oracle does, however,
insist u p o n this decisive, albeit elusive, link between Yahweh’s resolve
and anticipated im perial policy. T he oracle asserts th at Babylon can
in deed be a source o f mercy to Jerusalem when the em pire sub
scribes to G od’s own intention. T he negative counterpart of verses
13-17 indicates th at if there is flight to Egypt and away from Baby
lon, the same Babylonian king who is capable of mercy will indeed
be “the sword which you fear” (v. 16).
O ur historical-critical propensity is to say that the oracle of Jer.
42:9-17 simply reflects a wise, pragm atic political decision. Such a
reading, however, ignores the casting of the speech in which the
“I” o f G od’s mercy directly shapes the “h e” of N ebuchadnezzar’s
policy. T h at rhetorical linkage is crucial for the argum ent o f the
whole o f the tradition. This rhetorical m aneuver recasts the em pire
as an agent who is com pelled, u n d er the right circumstance, to show
mercy. T he speech practice o f the Jerem iah-Baruch-Shaphan tradi
tion includes Babylon in the sphere where mercy will be practiced
as a public reality.
2. Jeremiah 50:41-43. Scholars tend to read these “oracles against
the nations” as a separate literary u n it and in terms of historical, po
litical developm ents. In distinction from the Greek, the Hebrew text
places the oracles against the nations, and especially chapters 50-51
against Babylon, at the en d o f the book; this arrangem ent invites us
to pay attention to their canonical intention, that is, to move beyond
8. See Edgar W. Conrad, Fear Not Warrior, BJS 75 (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press,
1985), 48-51.
9. The LXX reads the second verb in the first person, “I will have mercy on
you,” thus removing the tension that is crucial to our argument. That rendering
makes the text irrelevant to the interface we are seeking to identify. Recent major
commentaries consistently prefer the MT reading. See the comment of John Bright,
Jeremiah: Introduction, Translation, and Notes, AB 21 (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday,
1965), 256.
historical, political concerns to notice the connection between these

oracles and o th er parts of the Jerem iah tradition.10
In this o rdering o f materials, the m idterm verdict o f the book o f
Jerem iah is th at N ebuchadnezzar will trium ph an d rule, even in J e ru
salem (25:8-11; 27:5-7b). T hat m idterm verdict, however, is overcome
by th e final verdict o f the Hebrew book o f Jerem iah (see also 25:12-
14, 27:7b). In the end, it will be God an d n o t N ebuchadnezzar who
prevails in the historical process. Again, we can read this assertion
simply in relation to the politics o f the nations, so that we anticipate
(in retrospect) that the Persians will have defeated and succeeded
the Babylonians.
Israel’s way o f speaking, however, is n o t rooted simply in histor
ical analysis. T he om inous verdict against Babylon in Jer. 50:41-43
is rath er an intentional rhetorical effort th at intends to answer and
resolve the so-called Scythian Song o f 6:22-24. This is n o t simply a
conventional recycling of poetic images, bu t this reuse o f poetic m a
terial intends to counter and refute the first use. T he purpose o f the
Scythian Song (6:22-24) is to invoke in the m ost threatening fashion
the com ing o f the intruder from the north. T he com ing th reat is
portrayed in this way:
They lay hold on bow and spear;

they are cruel and have no mercy [rhm], (6:23)
In contrast to the anticipated Babylonian accom m odation o f chapter

42, the poetry of 6:23 knows there will be “no mercy” from the invad
ing army. T he com ing of the invader with “no mercy” in chapter 6 is
G od’s resolve to punish recalcitrant Jerusalem .
C hapter 50 uses the same rhetoric to reverse the earlier verdict
of 6:23. Now the threatening in tru d er from the n o rth is n o t Baby
lon, b u t o ne who comes against Babylon. This com ing people, like
Babylon, is savage in its invasion:
They lay hold on bow and spear;

they are cruel and have no mercy [rhm], (50:42)
10. The alternative placement of these texts by the LXX after 25:14 anticipates
the debate about whether Nebuchadnezzar’s massive power is temporary (MT chaps.
27-28) and whether Jerusalem will indeed be given a future (MT chap. 29). See
William L. Holladay, Jeremiah 2: A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet feremiak,
Chapters 26-52, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1989), 312-14. Note the abrupt
“until” in 27:2, 11. Moreover, 25:12-14 anticipates the demise of Babylon and asserts
that the Babylonians will in time be reduced to the status of slavery (cf. Isa. 47:1-4).
T he ones who com e against Babylon have “no mercy.” Thus the
poem threatens an d destabilizes Babylon with the same phrasing that
authorized Babylon in 6:22-25.
T he use o f the same phrasing in 6:22-24 and 50:41-43 greatly illu
m inates th e way in which Yahweh relates to the nations. O n the one
hand, Yahweh is in bo th situations the one who takes initiative, the
one with authority. O n the o th er hand, Yahweh’s purpose is m ulti
dim ensional, so th at in different times and circumstances, the rule
o f God may be evidenced b o th for Babylon and against Babylon. In
b oth postures, th e way o f Yahweh is the im plem entation o f a policy
o f “no mercy.”
T he prose com m entary th at follows this oracle in 50:44-46 inter
prets the poetry. It makes a sweeping theological claim: G od has
a plan (‘sh) and a purpose (mhlb) and can appoint and sum m on
“whom ever I choose” (v. 44). T he retention and exercise o f im perial
power are tentative and provisional. Even the great Nebuchadnezzar,
the rhetoric asserts, is subject to the rule of Yahweh, which concerns
the practice o f “mercy” an d “no mercy.” Thus the oracle o f Jerem iah
50-51 at th e e n d o f the canonical book asserts the rule o f God over
international affairs. T he reuse o f 6:22-23 is, for o u r purposes, partic
ularly im portant. T he double use connects the dispatch o f Babylon
by God with “no mercy,” an d then the destruction o f Babylon with
“no mercy.”
Two things strike us in this construal o f Babylon’s destiny. First,
God deals directly with Babylon an d Persia, w ithout any reference to
J u d ah o r Jerusalem . G od is in d eed the God o f the nations. Second,
the exercise o f G od’s sovereignty concerns m atters o f mercy an d no
mercy. T h e destiny o f Babylon turns on Yahweh’s various initiatives
with mercy. Thus the rhetoric o f Israel reconstitutes the geopolitics
o f the Fertile C rescent with reference to mercy.
T he sequence o f 6:22-24 (which anticipates Babylon) and 50:41-
43 (which dismisses Babylon) stands in an odd relation to the
salvation oracle o f chapter 42. T he editing of the book o f Jerem iah
is com plex, so th at we may indeed have different editorial hands.
In the text as we have it, the Baruch docum ent prom ises mercy
from Babylon, th o ugh th at mercy is conditional (42:9-17). T he po
etic units, b oth th e “early” poem (6:22-23) and the oracle against
the Babylonians (50:41-43), refute the option of mercy. Yet in all
of the texts, whatever their origin, the rise and fall o f em pires has
been drawn into the language o f mercy. The tradition insists—as re
gards Babylon, Persia, Jerusalem , and G od’s assurance—that the play
o f power aro u nd the city o f Jerusalem raises the question and the
possibility o f mercy.
S. Isaiah 47:5-7. Because we do no t know when to date the Je re
m iah m aterials, we do no t know about the relative dating o f Jerem iah
50 an d Isaiah 47.11 I take up Isaiah 47 after the Jerem iah text be
cause conventionally, Second Isaiah is placed after Jerem iah, though
Jerem iah 50 may indeed be later. In any case, Isaiah 47 perm its a
m ore com prehensive and reflective com m entary on the mercy ques
tions posed in the Jerem iah tradition. In brief form , Isaiah 47 offers
o ne o f the m ost com prehensive statem ents o f Israel’s theology of
the nations. G od’s dealing with the em pire is elaborated in four
stages:
a. T he first elem ent is:
I was angry with my people, (v. 6a)
T he tradition insists that the destruction o f Jerusalem was no t an

accom plishm ent o f Babylonian policy b u t h ap p en ed at the behest
of God (cf. Jer. 25:8-11; 27:5-6; Isa. 40:1-2). T he destruction is a
sovereign act o f God, only im plem ented by Nebuchadnezzar.
b. T he second elem ent is:
I profaned my heritage;
I gave them into your hand. (v. 6b, c)
It is God who submits Jerusalem to the invasion o f Babylon. These

first two elem ents of the speech o f God constitute a conventional
p rophetic lawsuit. Israel is indicted for its failure to obey God. Israel
is placed u n d e r the ju d g m en t o f foreign invasion. T he com ing o f the
invader is G od’s stance of “no mercy” toward Jerusalem .
c. T he third elem ent of this oracle is unexpected and moves well
beyond the conventional lawsuit speech:
You [Babylon] showed no mercy {rhm). (v. 6d)
11. The current options for dating the materials are reflected in the commen
taries of William L. Holladay, Jeremiah 1: A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet
Jeremiah, Chapters 1-25, Hermeneia (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986); and idem, Jeremiah
2; and Robert P. Carroll, Jeremiah: A Commentary, OTL (Philadelphia: Westminster,
1986). The dating of the materials is not im portant for our argum ent about rhetoric
but would illuminate the sequence in which the texts might be taken up.
T he text offers no gram m atical connection between this statem ent

and w hat has ju s t preceded. We expect “b u t” or “however" or
“nevertheless,” b u t we get noth in g .12
d. This parataxis then leads to a rebuke o f the empire:
You said, “I will be mistress forever,”

so that you did not lay these things to heart
or remember their end. (v. 7)
T he first two elem ents in Isa. 47:5-7, then, are conventional: God
is angry with Israel. God punishes Israel by sum m oning a punish
ing nation, in this case Babylon. We are not prepared for the third
and fo u rth elem ents, however. T he speech is constructed as though
N ebuchadnezzar (and Babylonian policy) was all along supposed to
have known that mercy toward Jerusalem was in order and expected,
appropriate even in light o f G od’s anger. I im agine that inside the
dram a o f the text, N ebuchadnezzar could react to these third and
fourth elem ents in G od’s speech by saying in indignation, “Mercy?
You never m en tio n ed mercy!” O f course, N ebuchadnezzar is no t
perm itted to speak at all, except in the poetic self-indictm ent of
verse 7a.
T he tu rn in the third elem ent o f Isa. 47:5-7 is precisely perti
n e n t to o u r thesis. “Mercy” readily intrudes into political talk where
it is n o t expected. Mercy im pinges upon the policies and destiny
even o f th e em pire. In conversation about God and em pire, mercy
operates as a nonnegotiable factor. Nebuchadnezzar should have
known th at Yahweh is th at kind o f God. From the beginning, Yah
weh has b een a God o f mercy, an d mercy is characteristically present
where Yahweh is present. In the end, even the em pire stands o r fails
in term s o f G od’s resilient com m itm ent to mercy. Ruthless power
cannot circum vent that resolve o f God.
It is clear th at rhetorically, som ething decisive has hap p en ed be
tween th e second an d third elem ents of this oracle. T he first two
phrases look back to 587 an d echo the predictable claims o f lawsuit,
long anticipated by the prophets. In the third and fourth phrases,
however, the p o et has tu rn ed away from conventional lawsuit claims,
away from 587, away from destruction and judgm ent. Now the p oet
looks forward, o u t beyond the exile. Now G od’s very tool o f exile
has becom e the object o f G od’s indignation. In this m om ent, G od’s
12. On the function of such parataxis, see G. B. Caird, The Language and Imagery
of the Bible (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1980), 117-21.
old, old agenda o f mercy reem erges (cf. Exod. 34:6-7). T he practice
o f this rhetoric, in the horizon o f the poet, destabilizes the em pire.
Israel’s speech knows th at em pires, in their im agined autonomy, will
always have to com e to term s with G od’s alternative governance.13
T he em pire is never even close to being ultim ate bu t always lives
u n d e r the th reat of this rhetoric that rejects every im perial com pla
cency, every act o f autonomy, every gesture o f self-sufficiency. T he
p oem o f Isaiah 47 ends with an awesome verdict em erging from this
exchange about arrogant autonom y and mercy: “T here is no one to
save you!” (v. 25).
4. 1 Kings 8:46-53. This text is com m only taken to belong to the
latest layer o f Deuteronom istic in terpretation.14 It is cast as p a rt of
the prayer o f Solomon. It is structured as an “if-then” form ulation,
echoed in 2 Chron. 30:9. T he petition anticipates a conditional ex
ile. It contains an “if” o f repentance in exile (v. 48) and a “th e n ”
followed by four imperatives addressed to God on the basis of
repentance:
[H ]e a r th o u in h eav en
m a in ta in th e ir cause,
a n d forgive thy p e o p le ;. . .
g ra n t th e m m ercy [rhm], (w. 49-50)
A m otivation is offered to G od in verse 51; an additional petition is

voiced in verse 52; and a final motivational clause is given in verse 53.
W hat interests us is the fourth im perative o f petition in verses
49-50:
Grant them compassion [rhm] in the sight of those who carried them
away captive, that they may have compassion [rhm] on them.
It is clear in the prayer th at it is God and only God who gives mercy.
G od is the only subject of the verb, ntn. God m ust g rant (ntn) mercy
if any is to be given. T he last word of the petition adds, however,
“th at they [the captors] may have compassion [or m ercy].” Again
th e inclination of God and the disposition of Babylon are intimately
related to each other. It is n o t doubted that the Babylonian em pire
13. See, for example, Isa. 37:22-29, and the comments o f Donald E. Gowan, When
Man Becomes God (Pittsburgh: Pickwick, 1975), 31-35.
14. See Hans Walter Wolff, “The Kerygma of the Deuteronomic Historical Work,”
in The Vitality of Old Testament Traditions, by Walter Brueggemann and Hans Walter
Wolff (Atlanta: Jo h n Knox, 1982), 95-97.
A t the Mercy o f Babylon: A Subversive Rereading of the Emfmr I .'I
could be a place o f mercy. T he exile can be a place c*i" coinpa.ixion,

b u t th at can only be because God hears prayers and attends m the
needs o f the exiles. T he em pire is a place where G od’s inclination
for m ercy can in d eed be effected in a concrete, public way. Babylon
can enact what G od grants.15 T he claim of this text is close to the·
affirm ation o f Jer. 42:12.
5. 2 Chronicles 36:15-21. This text is the penultim ate paragraph
o f 2 Chronicles. In these verses, the C hronicler gives closure to the
narrative and engages in a sweeping retrospective. The term “mercy"
(hml) occurs twice in this concluding and om inous statem ent. First,
the God o f Israel is a God o f mercy who has practiced long-term,
persistent mercy toward Israel:
The Lord, the God o f their fathers, sent persistently to them by his
messengers, because he had mercy [hml] on his people and on his
dwelling place, (v. 15)
T he whole history o f prophecy is an act of mercy. In this usage,

however, mercy is n o t rescue b u t warning, to deter Jerusalem from
its self-destructive action. Israel, however, refused and resisted, until
G od’s w rath arose and th ere was “no rem edy” ('en rapa, [v. 16]).
This passage is constructed so that Babylon does n o t appear in
the text until G od’s mercy is spent. Only then does the em pire enter
the scene:
Therefore, he [God] brought up against them the king of the Chal

deans, who slew their young men with the sword in the house of their
sanctuary, and had no mercy [hml] on young man or virgin, old man
or aged; he gave them all into his hand. (v. 17)
It was th e designated work o f Babylon to destroy, reflective o f G od’s

exhausted mercy. T he statem ent is fram ed so that the active subject
at the beginning an d en d is God; only in between these statem ents
is the king o f Babylon perm itted as an active agent. Thus far the
arg u m en t with the double use o f “mercy” closely parallels the first
two elem ents o f the argum ent in Isaiah 47.
It is to be recognized th at the key term in this text is hml and
n o t rhm, as elsewhere in o u r analysis. However, the explicit reference
15. Richard Neison (First and Second Kings, Interpretation [Atlanta: John Knox,
1987], 54^55) suggests that the promise of mercy from “your captors” “is the
thinnest possible offer o f a chance at return for the exiles, one the narrator dares
not even whisper” (cf. Ps. 106:46).
to Jerem iah in verse 21 suggests that this text in the C hronicler is

an intentional developm ent o f the Jerem iah tradition.16 T he C hroni
cler reiterates the assertions o f the Jerem iah tradition th at justify the
catastrophe of 587. Yet the C hronicler also moves beyond the reflec
tions of the Jerem iah tradition. Thus, the text o f Jerem iah is cited as
an anticipation that now comes to fresh fulfillment. This penultim ate
paragraph with the double, albeit negative, reference to “mercy” p re
pares th e way for the final paragraph o f verses 22-25, which moves
dramatically beyond ju d g m en t to G od’s new act of mercy am ong the
nations:
Now in the first year of Cyrus, king of Persia, that the word of
the Lord in the mouth of Jeremiah might be accomplished, the
Lord stirred up the spirit of Cyrus the Persian so that he made a
proclamation throughout all his kingdom and also put it in writing.
(v. 22)
Even this new world power is to fulfill the word o f Jerem iah. Now
begins the new phase o f Jewish history with Cyrus. It is a new be
ginning to which Jerem iah 50 has m ade negative reference and to
which Isaiah 44-47 makes positive reference. O u r pivotal p oint of
in terp retatio n juxtaposes the exhausted mercy of Yahweh an d the lacking
mercy of Babylon.
T hese texts from Jerem iah, Isaiah, 1 Kings, and the C hronicler
seem to be indm ately connected to one an o th er in a sustained re
flection on the destiny of Israel vis-a-vis Babylon an d the workings of
God. T he salient p oint is that mercy from God and mercy from Baby
lon live in an odd and tense relation; n eith er will work effectively
w ithout the other. T hat is, when Babylon has mercy, it is derivative
from the mercy o f God. Conversely, when God has no mercy left,
there will be none from Babylon. This straightforw ard connection,
however, is disrupted by the discernm ent o f Isa. 47:6. It is this text
th at creates tension between the mercy o f heaven and the mercy of
earth. The tension occurs because the em pire can in d eed exercise
autonomy. T h at autonom y characteristically is self-serving, against
mercy, an d sure to bring self-destruction, even upon the em pire.
In all these texts, Israel is now prep ared to move toward the new
ness em bodied in Cyrus the Persian. Thanks to Second Isaiah, the
Persian period, contrasted to that of the Babylonians, is perceived
16. On this text as an example of intertextual reading, see Michael Fishbane,

Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon, 1985), 481-82.
A t the Mercy of Babylon: A Subversive Rereading of the Empire 123
as a new saving action o f G od th at perm its the survival and m od

est prosperity of Judaism . Yet Persia never takes on the imaginative
power or m etaphorical force o f Babylon. In the O ld Testament, the
theological struggle concerning public power and divine purpose re
mains focused on th e reality, memory, experience, and symbolization
o f Babylon.
6. Daniel 4:19-27. W hen we com e to the book of Daniel, we see
th at Israel’s theological reflection cannot finally finish with Babylon.
It is clear th at by th e tim e o f the Daniel texts, we have broken free
of historical reference; N ebuchadnezzar now looms on the horizon
o f Israel as a cipher for a pow er counter to the L ord.17 It is evident,
moreover, th at Babylon is n o t a reduced or flattened m etaphor, for
th en N ebuchadnezzar could be defeated and dismissed in the litera
ture. N ebuchadnezzar, however, is kept very m uch alive and present
by the rhetoric o f Israel.
T he narrative o f Daniel 4 concerns the dream o f N ebuchadnez
zar th at th e “great tre e ” will be cut down. As Daniel interprets this
dream , it anticipates N ebuchadnezzar’s loss of power. Two assump
tions operate for the n arrato r th at make the story possible. First, it
is proper, legitim ate, and acceptable for Jewish lore to entertain a
story ab o u t Nebuchadnezzar. As we m ight expect, such a story is told
in o rd er to m ock and deride the great king. As we shall see, the nar
rative is n o t finally a m ocking o r dismissal of N ebuchadnezzar b u t in
fact portrays his rem arkable rehabilitation. Thus, the horizon o f the
Bible does n o t flady dismiss the em pire bu t entertains its possible
transform ation to an agent o f obedience.
Second, the narrative assumes that the great king and his govern
m ental apparatus are dysfunctional. In the end, the great king m ust
step outside his own official circles o f power and influence for the
guidance h e needs. O n one level the narrative is a ra th e r conven
tional contrast betw een the stupid wielder of power and the shrewd
outsider who is able to tu rn the tables. As we shall see, however, the
n arrato r moves in a different, somewhat unexpected, direction. This
story is n o t prim arily about how a Jew prevails over Babylon. It is a
story, in th e end, ab out the well-being of Babylon and its power.
D aniel’s in terp retation o f the dream o f the king turns on three
17. O n the freedom o f the Daniel text from historical reference, see W. S.
Towner, “Were the English Puritans ‘the Saints of- the Most High?’ Issues in the
Pre-Critical Interpretation of Daniel 7,” Int 37 (1983): 46-63; and, more program
matically, Brevard S. Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture (Minneapolis:
Fortress, 1979), 618-22.
crucial affirmations. First, “It is you, O king” (v. 22). T he in terp re
tation by Daniel brings the dream into im m ediate political risk with
rhetoric th at recalls N athan’s indictm ent of David (2 Sam. 12:7). Sec
ond, the purpose of the dream is that the king will “know th at the
Most H igh has sovereignty over the kingdom o f mortals, and gives
it to whom h e will” (v. 25). This form ula dom inates the narrative,
occurring in verses 14, 22, 29, and, with greater variation, 34. M ore
over, the form ulation contains an echo of Jer. 50:44, to which we
have already m ade reference (cf. 49:19):
I will appoint over him whomever I choose. For who is like me? Who
will summon me? What shepherd can stand before me? Therefore,
hear the plan which the Lord has made against Babylon.
In th e Jerem iah usage, the transfer o f power away from Babylon to

“a people from the n o rth ” is sure and settled.
In the Daniel narrative, however, there is a third p oint that
leads the narrative in a surprising direction. At the e n d o f his
interpretative account, Daniel says,
Therefore, O king, let my counsel be acceptable to you; break off

your sins by practicing righteousness and your iniquities by showing
mercy [An] to the oppressed, (v. 2 4 )18
D aniel’s counsel to the king is unexpected in this context. We have

been given no reason to anticipate this narrative developm ent. Dan
iel ceases h ere to be an in terp reter and becom es a m oral instructor
of an d witness to the great king. For o u r purposes, it is im portant
to recognize th at the em pire is understood by the narrative as a po
tential place of mercy; N ebuchadnezzar is presented as a ruler who
is capable o f mercy to the oppressed and would be wise to practice
such mercy and righteousness.
In the unfolding of the narrative, we are never told th at N ebu
chadnezzar h eed ed Daniel and practiced righteousness an d mercy.
We are later told, however, that his “reason [m inda] re tu rn e d ”
(v. 34). H e subm itted in praise to the Most H igh (w. 34-35). Thus,
it is legitim ate to im agine that the narrative understands the “retu rn
o f reason,” the capacity to praise, and the restoration o f majesty an d
18. As indicated, the term here is n o t rhm b u t hnn. O n the cruciality of the old
creedal formulation in which they are closely related, see H ermann Spieckermann,
“Barmhherzig und gnadig ist der H e r r ...,” ZAW 102 (1990): 1-18.
splendor to N ebuchadnezzar (v. 36) as evidence of the practice of

mercy as u rg ed by Daniel.
We may now consider the sequence of texts we have discussed
concerning th e recurring interplay o f God, mercy, an d the destiny
o f the em pire:
a. In Jer. 6:23 and 2 Chron. 36:15, there is no mercy because God

intended that there should be no mercy.
b. In Isa. 47:6, there is no mercy, and Nebuchadnezzar is sharply

admonished for this lack that violates God’s intention.
c. In Jer. 42:12 and 1 Kings 8:50, Babylon is judged to be capable of

mercy, and Jews legitimately expect mercy.
d. In Dan. 4:27, which is a late, perhaps climactic word on Babylon in the

Old Testament, the hope of Daniel again counts on the mercy of the
empire, as that mercy is anticipated in Jer. 42:12 and 1 Kings 8:50.
To be sure, this good word about N ebuchadnezzar and Babylon

may be simply p a rt o f a Jewish strategy of political quietism an d co
operation. We should not, however, neglect the theological force of
Dan. 4:22 an d its fruition in verses 34-37. The theological claim o f
the narrative, regardless o f w hat it may m ean for Jewish conduct and
hope, is th at the em pire is transform able and can becom e a place
of mercy an d righteousness. This transform ation happens when the
God o f Israel is accepted as the Most High, that is, when the em pire
is b ro u g h t u n d e r the rule o f the Lord. Thus, the nations, given this
exam ple of Babylon, are redeem able, transform able, and capable of
salvage for th e hu m ane purposes o f God. Moreover, the narrative of
Daniel 4 is a w arning to all would-be Nebuchadnezzars that the ex
ercise of power u n in form ed by righteousness and mercy will lead to
insanity an d loss of authority. T he em pire is a place that may host
mercy. It is a place that, in its self-interest, m ust host mercy. T here is
no alternative strategy for royal power that can possibly succeed.19
19. In addition to the several texts that juxtapose “mercy” and “Babylon,” there
are a large num ber of texts dated in and around the exilic period that speak of
God’s mercy: see Isa. 14:1; 49:13-15; 54:7-10; 55:7; 60:10; Mic. 7:19; Jer. 12:15; 30:18;
31:20; 33:26; Lam. 3:22, 32; Hab. 3:2; Zech. 1:12, 16; 10:6. These texts suggest that
“mercy” became an extremely im portant theological issue in a time when Israel’s
relation to God appeared to be in jeopardy. These texts, however, lie outside the
scope of this study because they do n o t explicitly concern the empire and because
the mercy is promised after the exile by the empire, and not in the midst of it.
III
At th e outset, I offered two questions th at may focus the task o f theo
logical interpretation: (1) How does Israel speak about God? a n d
(2) W hat else m ust Israel talk about when it talks about God? T he
answer to the first question, given o u r topic, is that Israel talks about
God in term s of the reality of mercy. T he answer to the second ques
tion, I have suggested, is that when Israel speaks o f the mercy o f God,
it first speaks o f the nations, specifically Babylon, m ore specifically, the
mercy o f Babylon. To say that Israel’s speech about God entails speech
about the mercy o f the Babylonian em pire evidences the delicate,
daring enterprise that Israel’s theological speech inescapably is. In
its theological speech, Israel recharacterizes God. At the same time,
it recharacterizes the em pire and the m eaning of worldly power.
Israel’s speech about God requires and perm its Israel to say th at
the em pire is n o t what it is usually tho u g h t to be. It is n o t what it is
th o u g h t to be by Israelites who fear an d are intim idated by the em
pire. Conversely, it is no t what it is thought to be by the wielders o f
power themselves, in their presum ed self-sufficiency. Negatively, this
claim o f mercy asserts that im perial rule is n o t rooted simply in raw
power. Israel, when it is theologically intentional, will n o t entertain
the notion th at “m ight makes right.” Positively, this claim asserts that
political power inherendy and intrinsically has in its very fabric the
reality o f mercy, the practice o f hum anness, or as Daniel dares to
say to Nebuchadnezzar, the care of the oppressed (Dan. 4:27). This
daring rhetoric, which follows from Israel’s speech about God, does
n o t m ean th at the holder o f power will always accept this character
ization o f power. Israel, nonetheless, refuses to allow any enterprise
o f power to exist and function outside the zone o f its theological
rhetoric.
This claim about im perial power is even m ore stunning when
the subject o f such speech is characteristically Babylon. T he same
playful, am biguous, venturesom e rhetoric of Israel is also em ployed
concerning Egypt and Assyria, b u t perhaps no t as extensively. While
Babylon functions in this regard as a m etaphor for all such power,
no d o u b t Babylon, in and o f itself, occupies a peculiar and distinc
tive role in Israel’s theological horizon. In the Bible, Israel would
never finish with Babylon, an d therefore its speech about Babylon is
of peculiar im portance.
We may suggest two reasons for this odd focus. First, there is
good historical reason for such an insistence concerning Babylon.
T he dep o rtatio n o f the Jerusalem elite required honest an d alarm

ing theological reflection by the makers of Judaism . It was Babylon
th at h ad th e capacity to create a situation in which G od’s mercy
was experienced as null a n d void; Israel was left to w onder what
th at nullification signified (cf. Lam. 5:20-22). Second, there is surely
canonical reason for such a focus on Babylon. It is m ost plausible
th at the process o f displacem ent in the sixth century n o t only was
decisive for the com m unity th at experienced it bu t also becam e,
th ro u g h the process o f canonization, a decisive an d paradigm atic
reality for continuing generations o f Jews.20
Thus th e exile becam e paradigm atic for all Jews, including the
God o f the Jews. Jews an d the God o f the Jews m ust com e to term s
with the definitional role o f Babylon. It was exactly the experience
and m etap h o r of Babylonian exile th at m ade the question o f mercy so
acute. It was exactly the m ercy of God, rem em bered, experienced,
an d anticipated, th at m ade a redefinition o f Babylon so u rg e n t an d
so problem atic.
Israel’s rhetoric accom plished a stunning claim. It asserted that
no savage power in the world could separate Israel from G od’s
mercy. It did m ore th an that, however; it also asserted that no sav
age power, no m atter its own self-discernment, can ever be cut off
from the reality o f G od’s mercy. It is for that reason that the bu rd en
o f mercy is repeatedly thrust u p o n Nebuchadnezzar; a n d for th at
reason, Daniel finally, at the e n d of this literature, has N ebuchadnez
zar’s “reason re tu rn ” (Dan. 4:31). Now N ebuchadnezzar “knows.”21
W hat h e knows is th at power is held by the God who gives it as God
wills.22 Moreover, “God wills” always toward mercy. No am ount of
cunning o r force can escape this intentionality of God. T he rhetoric
of Israel ab out the nations is rooted in the very character o f Israel’s
God. T he very character o f God, however, lives in this rhetoric that
20. Jacob Neusner ( Understanding Seeking Faith [Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986],
137-41) has shown how the displacement of the sixth century became a shap
ing paradigm for the self-understanding of all Judaism, a paradigm only loosely
connected with the historical realities.
21. The term usually rendered as “reason” is from the root yd'. Thus, the “reason”
of Nebuchadnezzar is the acknowledgment that the world is indeed shaped through
the intention and governance of Yahweh. Though the term yet is here removed from
the notion of “covenantal acknowledgment,” it still participates in that covenantal
reality, whereby “knowing” consists in reckoning with in loyal obedience (cf. Jer.
22:16). See Η. B. Huffmon, “The Treaty Background of Hebrew Yada,” BASOR 184
(1966): 31-37.
22. On this phrase, see the comments of Gowan, When Man Becomes God, 121-28
and its use in Jer. 50:44.
is n o t negotiable. T he rhetoric assures that God is b ound to Babylon

even in the work o f mercy. T he rhetoric assures as well that Babylon
is b o u n d to mercy because it is the purpose o f this God who gives
power to whom God wills. N ebuchadnezzar persistently has refused
this reality o f G od’s powerful resolve for mercy. His rule culm inates
in sanity, praise, majesty, splendor, and m ore greatness, however, only
when h e accepts G od’s rule o f justice an d abandons the option of au
tonom ous pride. N ebuchadnezzar’s reason is his “knowing,” knowing
the tru th o f Israel’s rhetoric and knowing the one who is the prim al
subject o f th at rhetoric.
IV
I want now to situate my com m ents in relation to two addresses
given by past presidents o f the Society o f Biblical Literature. I suggest
th at a contrast between the presidential addresses of Jam es Muilen-
burg an d Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza will illum inate the claim I am
m aking for the theological intentionality o f Israel’s rhetoric.
O n the one hand, Jam es M uilenburg delivered his rem arkable
and extrem ely influential address on rhetorical criticism in 1968.23
It was M uilenburg who both n oted and, in my view, enacted the de
cisive m ethodological turn in the guild toward literary analysis. O ne
can hardly overstate the cruciality o f what M uilenburg accom plished
in his address and m ore generally in his work.
N onetheless, it is fair to say that M uilenburg’s presentation of the
im portance o f speech and of rhetoric was quite restricted. T here is
no h in t in his presidential address o f an awareness that speech is
characteristically an d inevitably a political act, an assertion o f power
th at seeks to override some o th er rhetorical proposal o f reality.24
O ne can rightly say o f M uilenburg’s horizon either that he was no t
interested in such issues o r that the whole critical awareness o f the
political dim ension o f speech came m uch later to the discipline o f
biblical interpretation. In any case, it is tim e to move beyond such in
nocence in rhetorical criticism, as many in the field have done, to an
awareness th at the text entrusted to us is a m ajor act of power. O ur
23. James Muilenburg, “Form Criticism and Beyond,” JBL 87 (1969): 1-18.
24. O n the political dimension o f all rhetoric, see Terry Eagleton, Literary Theory:
An Introduction (Minneapolis: Univ. of Minnesota Press, 1983); and Richard Har
vey Brown, Society as Text: Essays on Rhetoric, Reason, and Reality (Chicago: Univ. of
Chicago Press, 1987). Eagleton insists that traditional literary criticism has always
refused to think of “the ‘aesthetic’ as separable from social determinants” (p. 206).
own in terp retatio n is derivatively an act o f power even as we pose, or

perhaps especially as we pose, as objective in our interpretation. O ne
can detect M uilenburg’s lack o f interest or attention to this issue at
the e n d o f his address, when, in juxtaposition to T. S. Eliot’s phrase
“raid on the inarticulate,” he speaks of a “raid on the ultim ate.” I
suggest th at such a form ulation bespeaks a kind o f untroubled tran
scendentalism . O f course, M uilenburg was n o t untroubled, an d he
knew the tex t was n o t untroubled. Nonetheless, he moves directly
from the text to “th e ultim ate.” Given what we know of the politi
cal power o f rhetoric, we dare n o t speak of a “raid o n the ultim ate”
unless we first speak of a “raid on the proxim ate.”25
T here is available to us a variety o f theories o f speech and rheto
ric. T he move beyond M uilenburg’s innocent analysis o f rhetoric can
benefit from Jean-Frangois Lyotard’s presence in the conversation.26
Lyotard suggests th at speech is fundam entally agonistic, that it in
tends to e n te r into conflict with o th er speech-claims. O ne figure he
uses for this agonistic understanding is that speech is like the taking
o f tricks, the trum ping o f a com m unicational adversary, an assertively
conflictual relation between tricksters.27
W ithout following Lyotard’s com plete postm odern program , I
suggest th at in the guild o f scholars, we shall m ore fully face the
danger and significance of the texts entrusted to us if we notice how
these texts e n te r into conflict with o th er rhetorical options. C oncern
ing my them e of mercy and empire, the several texts I have cited and
their shared rhetorical claim do no t constitute an innocent, neutral,
or casual act. In each case the text is a deliberate act of com bat
against o th er views o f public reality that live through o th er forms
25. Eagleton (Literary Theory, 205) writes: “Rhetoric, which was the received form
of critical analysis all the way from ancient society to the eighteenth century, exam
ined the way discourses are constructed in order to achieve certain effects__ [I]ts
particular interest lay in grasping such practices as forms of power and perform
ance.” Muilenburg’s focus on the “ultimate” may not give sufficient attention to
“power and perform ance.”
26. Jean-Frangois Lyotard, The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge (Min
neapolis: Univ. of Minnesota Press, 1984), cxi, 10, 16, and passim.
27. Lyotard’s strictures are aimed especially against Jurgen Habermas’s theory of
“communicative action.” On the latter, see Habermas, Knowledge and Human Interests
(Boston: Beacon, 1968), and the utilization of Habermas by Richard J. Bernstein,
Beyond Objectivism and Relativism: Science, Hermeneutics, and Praxis (Philadelphia: Univ.
o f Pennsylvania Press, 1983). Lyotard holds that speech is much more adversarial
than Habermas allows. I am suggesting that such an adversarial perspective is helpful
in understanding what the rhetoric o f Israel does concerning great concentrations
of political power and the mandate of mercy. The texts we have considered are in
no way innocent about their claims.
13 0 A Social Reading o f the Old Testament
o f rhetoric. Thus, the “tru m p ” o f this rhetoric seeks to override the

assured autonom y o f Babylon that dares to say, “I am and there is
no o th er” (Isa. 47:10). Conversely, this rhetoric enters into com bat
with Israel’s rhetoric o f com plaint, which asserts th at “there is none
to com fort” (Lam. 1:2, 17, 21), that “the h an d o f the Lord is short
e n e d ” (Isa. 50:2; 59:1), an d that “my way is hid from the Lord, and
my right is disregarded by my G od” (Isa. 40:27). B oth the arrogance
o f autonom ous Babylon and the despair o f doubting Israel generate,
authorize, and com m end a politics o f brutality an d intim idation.
T he rhetorical trajectory I have traced refuses to leave either
Israel o r the em pire at peace in its mistaken rhetoric. This counter
rhetoric, this “strong poetry,” th at seeks to reread the em pire and
the faith com m unity is a radically subversive urging.28 Aside from
th e specific argum ent I have m ade about em pire and mercy, I sug
gest th at o u r scholarly work requires a theory o f rhetoric that is m ore
in keeping with the relentlessly critical, subversive, an d ironic voice
o f the text, which sets itself endlessly against m ore conventional and
consensual speech. Thus, we are at a m om ent n o t only “beyond form
criticism,” which M uilenburg had ju d g ed to be flat an d mostly ster
ile, b u t also beyond rhetorical analysis that is too enam ored o f style
to notice speech as a m eans and source of power.29
O n the o th er hand, in 1987, nineteen years after M uilenburg,
Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza delivered a m ajor challenge to the
Society o f Biblical Literature.30 Alluding to the presidential ad
dresses o f Jam es M ontgom ery in 1919, H enry Cadbury in 1937, and
Leroy W aterm an in 1947 as the only exceptions in presidential ad
dresses,31 Schussler Fiorenza protested against scholarly detachm ent
and urged th at m em bers of the society have public responsibility
in the m idst o f their scholarship. She proposed th at attention to
28. My reference here is to Harold Bloom, Anxiety of Influence: A Theory of Poetry

(New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 1973). See William H. Rueckert, Kenneth Burke and,
the Drama of Human Relations (Minneapolis: Univ. of Minnesota Press, 1963), 8-33,
on Burke’s early notion of rhetoric as counterstatement and counterdiscourse.
29. In reflecting on my critique of Muilenburg, it occurred to me (and may to
others) that my own statement appears to be an attem pt to “trum p” his influence
and thus to enact the force of rhetoric as Bloom and Lyotard suggest. That is far
from my intention, but I am not unaware of that dynamic.
30. Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza, “The Ethics of Interpretation: De-centering
Biblical Scholarship,” JBL 107 (1988): 3-17.
31. The addresses to which Fiorenza alludes are James A. Montgomery, “Present
Tasks of American Biblical Scholarship,” JBL 38 (1919): 1-14; Henry J. Cadbury,
“Motives of Biblical Scholarship,” JBL 56 (1937): 1-16; and Leroy Waterman,
“Biblical Studies in a New Setting,” JBL 66 (1947): 1-14.
rhetorical ra th e r than scientific categories o f scholarship would raise

ethical-political issues as constitutive of the interpretative process.
Moreover, she observed th at no presidential address since 1947 had
m ade any gesture in the direction o f public responsibility.
It is n o t my purpose to en ter directly into an assessment o f pre
vious presidential addresses. It is, however, my purpose to reflect
on th e task an d possibility of biblical theology. T he dom inant line
o f scholarly arg um ent has insisted that biblical theology m ust be a
descriptive a n d n o t norm ative enterprise. O r to p u t it with Krister
Stendahl, it m ust be concerned with what the text “m eant” and not
with w hat the text “m eans.”32 In my judgm ent, that urging contains
within it n o t only a considerable fear of authoritarianism b u t also a
decision ab o u t “strict constructionism ” concerning the text, a preoc
cupation with “authorial in ten t,” and a positivistic notion o f rhetoric,
of image, o f m etaphor, and, finally, of text.
If we move in M uilenburg’s direction of rhetoric and in Schiissler
F iorenza’s direction o f public rhetoric, and if we understand that the
rhetoric o f a classic text is always and again a political act, th en it is,
in my ju d g m en t, im possible to confine interpretation to a descriptive
activity. T he text, when we attend to it as a serious act o f rhetoric,
is inherently agonistic an d makes its advocacy in the face o f o th er
advocacies.
T h e trajectory o f texts I have cited may be taken as a case in
point. T here is no d o u b t th at the prim ary references in these texts
are the God o f Israel an d the Babylonian em pire, a datable, locat-
able, identifiable historical entity. T here is also no doubt, however,
th at th e term “Babylon” has becom e a m etaphor for great public
pow er and th at the term spills over endlessly into new contexts. A
prim ary exam ple o f such spilling over is the power o f the m etaphor
“Babylon” in th e book o f Revelation. T he Babylon m etaphor has ex
ercised enorm ous influence in the ch u rch ’s thinking ab o u t “church
an d state.” T h ere is no do u b t that that spilling over happens in the
text itself and, as W. Sibley Towner has shown, that spillover has con
tin u ed in any b u t the m ost flattened historical interpretation.33 Thus
32. Krister Stendahl, “Biblical Theology, Contemporary,” in IDB 1:418-32. See the
careful and critical response to the categories of Stendahl by Ben C. Ollenburger,
“Biblical Theology: Situating the Discipline,” in Understanding the Word ed. James T.
Buder et al., JSOTSup 37 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985), 37-62; and, more fully,
idem, “What Krister Stendahl ‘M eant’—A Normative Critique of Descriptive Biblical
Theology,” H BT (June 1986): 61-98.
33. Carroll (Jeremiah, 832) observes that Babylon has become “the symbol of
we never have in the text the concrete historical reference to Baby

lon w ithout at the same time the potential for spillover into o th er
contexts. T h at spillover, I suggest, is n o t evoked simply by willful,
imaginative interpreters bu t is also rooted in the m etaphors and
images themselves, which reach out in relendess sense m aking.34
Thus, we have before us in these six texts concern for the God o f
Israel, who is the God of mercy, and the em pire, which m ust be en d
lessly co ncerned with mercy. In attending to these texts, we seek to
en ter Israel’s rhetoric and to notice Israel’s agonistic in ten t in this set
o f m etaphors. We read the text where we are. We read the text, as we
are b o u n d to read it, in the horizon o f C hina’s T iananm en Square
and B erlin’s wall, o f Panam a’s canal and South Africa’s changing sit
uation, o f Kuwait’s lure of oil. O r am ong us, w hen we are daring,
we may read the text in relation to the politics o f publication, the
play o f power in prom otion and tenure, the ambiguities o f acquir
ing grants, and the seductions o f institutional funding. We inevitably
read the text where we sit. W hat happens in the act o f theological
in terpretation is not an “application” o f the text, n o r an argum ent
ab out contem porary policy, bu t an opening o f a rhetorical field in
which an u rg en t voice other than o u r own is set in the m idst o f im
perial self-sufficiency and “colonial” despair.35 We continue to listen
while the voice o f this text has its say against o th er voices th at claim
counterauthority.
Thus, the agenda that Schussler Fiorenza proposes is no t extrin
sic to th e work of the Society o f Biblical Literature. T he spillover o f
the text into present social reality is n o t an “add-on” for relevance;
rather, it is a scholarly responsibility that the text should have a hear
ing as a serious voice on its own terms. O ne need subscribe to no
hubristic opposition to Yahweh.” For an amazing example of such a spillover into

contemporaneity, see Octavio Paz, One Earth, Four or Five Worlds: Reflections on Con
temporary History (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1985), 151. In commenting
on the power of the United States in the Latin American countries, Paz writes: “This
contradiction revealed that the ambivalence of the giant was not imaginary but real:
the country of Thoreau was also the country of Roosevelt-Nebuchadnezzar.”
34. O n the concept of spillover, I am utilizing the notion of Paul Ricoeur (In
terpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning [Fort Worth: Texas Christian
Univ. Press, 1976]) concerning “surplus.” The term “surplus,” as a noun, is too
static, however, and so I have chosen an active verb to suggest that the text actively
moves beyond its intended or ostensive meaning to other meanings.
35. Mary Douglas and Aaron Wildavsky (Risk and Culture: An Essay on the Selection
of Technical and Environmental Dangers [Berkeley: Univ. of California Press, 1982],
83-125) provide convenient phrasing for this context in their formula, “The center
is complacent, the border is alarmed.”
particular ideology to conclude that our public condition is one of

deep crisis. A nd since we as biblical scholars have invested our lives
in these texts, o ne may ask direcdy how or in what way this text is an
im p o rtan t voice in the contem porary array o f com peting rhetorics.
O r less directly, one may ask if we want to be the generation that
withholds the text from its contem porary context, the generation
th at blocks the spillover th at belongs intrinsically and inherently to
the text. It is possible th at we would be the generation th at withholds
the tex t from o u r contem porary world in the interest o f objectivity
an d in the nam e o f o u r privileged neutrality. Such an act, I should
im agine, is a disservice n o t only to our time and place b u t also to our
text. Such “objective” an d “neutral” readings are themselves political
acts in the service o f en tren ch ed and “safe” interpretation.
It can, however, be otherwise. W ithout dim inishing the im por
tance o f o u r critical work, it is possible that the text will be perm itted
freedom for its own fresh say. That, it seems to me, is a m ajor in
terpretative issue am ong biblical scholars. T he possibility o f a fresh
reading requires attentiveness to the politics o f rhetoric, to the
strange, relentless power o f these words to subvert and astonish.36
W hen o u r criticism allows the rhetoric of the text to be voiced, the
way mercy crowds Babylon continues to be a crucial oddity, even in
o u r own reading. Those o f us who care m ost about criticism may
atten d with greater grace to readings of the text that move even
beyond o u r criticism.
36. O n fresh and liberated readings, see William A. Beardslee, “Ethics and Her
meneutics,” in Text and Logos: The Humanistic Interpretation of the New Testament, ed.
Theodore W. Jennings (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990), 15-32. Beardslee concludes
his proposal for a reading of the text that will perm it a “relational, participatory view
of justice” with this comment: “This path will move away from the rigid image of
hermeneutics as ‘translation,’ which presupposes a fixed element to be re-expressed.
It will contribute to the formation of a hermeneutics that can fully recognize the
strangeness of the text, which offers no ‘pure’ disclosure, and yet can release the
ethical power that successive generations have found in an encounter with the New
Testament.” Beardslee’s proposal is congruent with what I see happening in these
“mercy/Babylon” texts.
7_____________________________________________________________________________
A Poem of Summons (Isaiah 55:1-3)
and a Narrative of Resistance
(Daniel 1)
T h e POETRY OF ISAIAH 40-55 is enorm ously generative for

Israel’s fu tu re.1 T hat visionary poetry generated powerful religious
hope an d polidcal courage for the life o f Israel after 540 B.C.E. T hat
poetry also evoked subsequent texts, the clearest case being the text
of Isaiah 56-66. Thus Joseph B lenkinsopp can assert th at “passages
in Isa. 56-66 can be shown to relate to passages in Isa. 40-55 as
com m entary to text.”2 In this chapter I wish to investigate a dif
feren t exam ple o f “com m entary to text,” considering Daniel 1 as a
m idrashic com m entary on the text Isa. 55:1-3.3
1. See the summary comment of Paul D. Hanson, “Israelite Religion in the

Early Postexilic Period,” in Ancient Israelite Religion, ed. Patrick D. Miller Jr. et al.
(Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), 501-3. The evocative power of Second Isaiah operates
literarily and theologically, even if we proceed with a canonical understanding of the
book of Isaiah. The current discussion about canonical criticism does not affect our
present argument.
2. Joseph Blenkinsopp, “Second Isaiah—Prophet of Universalism,” JSOT 41
(1988): 95.
3. On the midrashic character of the Daniel narratives, see Andre LaCocque,
The Book of Daniel (Atlanta: John Knox, 1979), 1-2. See also Gerhard von Rad, Old
Testament Theology (San Francisco: H arper and Row, 1965), 2:313-15. O n the more
general interpretative practice of midrash, see Michael Fishbane, Biblical Interpreta
tions in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon, 1985); I. L. Seeligmann, “Voraussetzungen
der Midrashexegese,” in Congress Volume: Copenhagen, VTSup 1 (Leiden: Brill, 1953),
150-81; Jacob Neusner, Midrash as Literature: The Primacy of Documentary Discourse
(New York: Univ. Press of America, 1987). Neusner (What Is Midrash?, Guides to
Biblical Scholarship [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987]) has also provided a convenient
introduction to and definition of midrashic study. The clearest succinct statement
134
A Poem of Summons and a Narrative of Resistance 135
I
T he text o f Isa. 55:1-3, p a rt of the conclusion o f the poetry o f Isaiah
40-55, issues a sum m ons that is in fact a promise. T he sum m ons
is expressed in an extended series o f imperatives dom inated by the
verb “com e”:
co m e . . . co m e . . . buy. . . e a t. . . ;
come . . . buy [v. 1];
hearken. . . e a t. . . delight. . . [v. 2.];
incline. . . co m e . . . hear. (v. 3)
This massive im perative assault suggests urgency and presses the

listening com m unity to an im m ediate and crucial decision.
T he decision urged is to abandon sources of nourishm ent and
sustenance th at do n o t feed o r satisfy (v. 2a, b). T he questions in
verse 2 function as disputational speech intended to dismiss the neg
ative option now to be rejected. T he m ain rhetorical force o f the
poetic lines, however, is in the series of positive imperatives that
fram e th e questions o f verse 2. These imperatives present to the
listeners an alternative th at will indeed nourish and satisfy.
T he prom issory character o f the sum m ons is clear in verse 3b.
After the three imperatives o f verse 3 (incline, come, hear), the
prom ised possibility is that the listeners’ nephesh will live. T he nephesh
of Israel (singular noun, plural pronoun) is in jeopardy from star
vation; now a freely given alternative is possible. This program m atic
prom ise is th en extrapolated in two phrases that express the m ain
concern o f the entire poetic piece: (1) God offers an “everlast
ing covenant,” one n o t abrogated even by the reality o f exile; and
(2) G od asserts “steadfast, sure love for David.”4 T hat is, the prom ise
concerning this mode of interpretation is offered by Michael Fishbane, “Inner Bib

lical Exegesis: Types and Strategies of Interpretation in Ancient Israel,” in Midrash
and Literature, ed. Geoffrey H. H artm an and Sanford Budick (New Haven: Yale Univ.
Press, 1986), 19-37. Fishbane concludes: “The most characteristic feature of the Jew
ish imagination, the interpretation and rewriting of sacred texts, thus has its origin
in the occasional, unsystematized instances of exegesis embedded in the Hebrew
Bible, examples of which it has been my effort to recall” (p. 36).
4. On the reformulation of the Davidic promise in this text, see Otto Eissfeldt,
“The Promises of Grace to David in Isaiah 55:1-5,” in Israel’s Prophetic Heritage, ed.
Bernhard W. Anderson and Walter Harrelson (New York: Harper and Row, 1962),
196-207. My argum ent in this chapter concerns the claim that Daniel 1 appeals
to the “old text” of Isa. 55:1-3; here it is clear that Isa. 55:1-3 also appeals to an
older text of Davidic theology (such as 2 Samuel 7). It offers a reinterpretation
of that earlier text as Daniel 1 subsequently offers a reinterpretation of the poetic
that “your nephesh” will live is interpreted to refer to G od’s continu

ing covenantal loyalty and attentiveness in a situation o f enorm ous
th reat and discontinuity. It is the covenant solidarity o f Yahweh th at
makes life possible for Israel, life th at is not possible while Israel
spends its money, energy, and loyalty for what is n o t bread an d what
does n o t satisfy.
In recen t com m entary on this passage, scholarly attention has
been given prim arily to the identification o f the voice and genre o f
the sum m ons. We may identify the following hypotheses concerning
the identity o f the voice of summons:
1. Joachim Begrich has offered the dom inant hypothesis, fol
lowed by many scholars, that this is the sum m ons of “Dame W isdom”
to h er b an q u et as an alternative to foolishness th at destroys.5 It is the
b anq u et o f wisdom that gives life.
2. Jam es A. Sanders has utilized the m otif o f b anquet som ewhat
differendy. He suggests that the invitation is issued by a king who
invites his subjects to a banquet to celebrate the king an d his en
th ro n em en t.6 This suggestion pays attention to the m ention o f David
in verse 3, which draws the poem toward royal imagery.
3. Claus W esterm ann has set alongside the notion of the ban
q uet o f wisdom the sum m ons as the voice o f a vendor in the
m arketplace offering a sale to a prospective buyer.7 Characteristically,
W esterm ann finds the antecedents in the daily, secular life o f the
community. This hypothesis is a variation o f an older hypothesis o f
Franz Delitzsch th at this is the voice o f a “water seller.”8
4. R ichard J. Clifford has suggested, utilizing Ugaritic parallels,
that the sum m ons is the presence of God in the tem ple, “proxim ity
to the deity in the deity’s shrine.”9
rendering in Isaiah 55. Fishbane (“Inner Biblical Exegesis,” 20) suggests that the
“foundation text [may be] already an interpreted document.” In our case, Isa. 55:1-3
is already interpreted from the older Davidic materials but is again reinterpreted in
Daniel 1.
5. Joachim Begrich, Studien zur Deuterojesaja, TBu 20 (Munich: Kaiser, 1969),
59-61. See the appeal to the hypothesis by James Muilenburg, “The Book of Isa
iah, Chapters 40—66, Exegesis,” in IB (Nashville: Abingdon, 1956), 5:643; and Claus
Westermann, Isaiah 40—66, OTL (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1969), 281—83.
6. James A. Sanders, “Isaiah 55:1-9,” Int 32 (1978): 291-95.
7. Westermann, Isaiah 40-66, 282-83.
8. Franz Delitzsch, Biblical Commentary on the Prophecies of Isaiah (Edinburgh:
T. and T. Clark, 1890), 2:325.
9. Richard J. Clifford, “Isaiah 55: Invitation to a Feast,” in The Word Shall Go
Forth, ed. Carol L. Meyer and M. O ’Connor (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1983),
27-35.
A Poem o f Summons and a Narrative of Resistance 117
5. A m ore theological interpretation, as, for example, in Calvin,

suggests th a t th e sum m ons o f the poem is to the gospel, which may
in Christian in terpretation be given a christological or eschatological
accent.10
Helpful as these various proposals are, I suggest that such inter
pretations miss the poignancy o f the voice and the cruciality o f the
decision to which the p o et now sum m ons Israel in exile. T hat is,
these several interpretations lead away from the concrete crisis o f the
text itself. Thus, we may consider three elem ents o f interpretation
th at may open the text beyond these explanations:
1. T he hypotheses we have m entioned identify the “voice o f sum
m ons” eith er in term s o f generic interest (wisdom, vendor) o r as
a theological generalization (cultic proximity, royal banquet, the
gospel). N either such a literary antecedent n o r a theological gener
alization, however, would seem to touch the unm istakable urgency,
expressed in the series o f imperatives. This is indeed an im m ediate,
life-and-death decision. T he identification o f the voice should n o t
lead us away from the textual m om ent given us. T he voice in the
text is n o t th at o f a generic vendor o r of undifferentiated wisdom,
b u t ra th e r th at o f a pastoral p o et addressing real people in a crucial
m om ent. T he sum m ons is n o t ju st to cultic presence b u t also to a
m ore hazardous an d m ore marvelous option concerning food, suste
nance, a n d life. T he real-life situation of the poem is in the m idst of
an em pire w here newness is being enacted (see 43:18-19) and where
th at newness is being resisted (see 45:9-13). Thus, we are obligated
to listen m ore closely to the text itself than these several hypotheses
perm it us to do.
2. In identifying the voice o f sum m ons by way of literary an
teced en t or theological generalization, scholars have n o t paid m uch
atten tio n to th e negative force of verse 2. T hat verse issues two
questions th at are in fact accusations. The negative force o f “not
b read ” an d “n o t satisfy” is central. T hat negative, however, is alm ost
skipped over by scholars in their zeal to get to the positive religious
affirm ation. Jam es M uilenburg notes a general accom m odation to
10. Jo h n Calvin, Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (Grand Rapids: Baker
Book House, 1979), 155-57. Calvin recognizes that “waters, milk, wine, bread” are
metaphors that include “all that is necessary for spiritual life.” Moreover, the “meta
phors are borrowed from those kinds of food which are in daily use amongst us. As
we are nourished by ‘bread, wine, milk, and water,’ so in like m anner let us know
that our souls are fed and supported by the doctrine of the Gospel, the Holy Spirit,
and other gifts of Christ.”
Babylonian surroundings but, along with o th er scholars, soft-pedals

the cosdy and total change that is called for.11 T he negative alterna
tive h ere rejected, I submit, is the entire im perial world of Babylon
that cannot keep its promises and cannot give life. T he negative re
jected by this poetic voice is Babylonian religion, which makes an
offer o f life it cannot keep. T he Jews addressed by this poet are
situated in Babylon and are called to reject and deny the best reli
gious prom ises offered by Babylonian religion and, with them , the
legitimacy, safety, and stability that are available in the em pire.12
3. A litde at a time, we are learning to ask sociopolitical questions
of texts.13 In recent discussion o f this text, alm ost no attention has
b een given to the sociopolitical dim ension of Israel’s faith and life
in exile. Clearly, the Babylonian religion criticized by the poet did
n o t exist in a vacuum b u t was linked to an d legitim ated Babylonian
socioeconom ic and political definitions o f reality an d organization
of power.14 W esterm ann has no ted that the reference to bread and
milk m eans th at a split of spirit and m aterial is no t perm itted.15 T hat
refusal to “split” m ust be taken m ore seriously in interpretation. It
m eans th at the criticism m ade by this urgent, im perative poetic voice
is n o t only a theological but also a sociopolitical sum m ons. It is n o t
only a sum m ons away from Babylonian theological loyalty and an
invitation to the covenant o f Yahweh; it is also a sum m ons away from
Babylonian socioeconom ic and political reality an d an invitation to
the historical possibility o f Yahwism that is the socioeconom ic an d
political restoration o f Judaism .
11. Muilenburg, “The Book of Isaiah,” 644.

12. The poetry of Second Isaiah maintains a constant and harsh critique of the
religious enterprise of the Babylonian empire. This is evident in the disputation
speeches of 41:1-5, 21-29, and in the mock song of chap. 46. The lyrical dismissal
of Babylonian religious legitimacy is essential to the liberation of Jewish imagination
for the sake of homecoming.
13. The decisive contribution thus far has been the work of Norman Gottwald.
David Jobling (“Sociological and Literary Approaches to the Bible: How Shall the
Twain Meet7" JSOT 38 [198V]: 85-93) has offered a discerning critique o f Gottwald’s
work and has identified the most im portant contributions of Gottwald. For a con
crete example of a sociopolitical reading of the text that bears upon our discussion,
see Jo h n Goldingay, “The Stories of Daniel: A Narrative Politics,” JSOT 37 (1987):
99-116.
14. O n the connection between theological and sociopolitical dimensions of Is
rael’s textual tradition, see Ronald S. Hendel, “The Social Origins of the Aniconic
Tradition in Early Israel,” CBQ 50 (1988): 365-82; and Walter Brueggemann, “Old
Testament Theology as a Particular Conversation: Adjudication of Israel’s Socio-
Theological Alternatives,” in Old Testament Theology: Essays in Structure, Theme, and
Text (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992), 118-49.
15. Westermann, Isaiah 40-66, 282-83.
A Poem o f Summons and a Narrative o f Resistance 139
Thus, the sum m ons in Isa. 55:1-3 is to wholesale resistance to Baby

lonian options, bo th religious and political. T hat im perial option,
b oth religious an d political, m ust be resisted in all its parts because
it robs exiled Israel o f hope and finally o f identity (that is, nephesh).
It num bs Israel’s im agination and robs Israel of its chance fo r life.
Babylon is to be resisted because it will destroy the nephesh o f Israel.
T he poetry invites Israel to say no to every form o f Babylonian nour
ishm ent th at denies every Jewish possibility of life. Scholarly preoccu
pations with antecedents and generalization have largely led us away
from th e concrete an d u rg en t issues of resistance present in the text,
resistance necessary for the liberation o f the com m unity o f Yahweh.
II
T h e story o f Daniel 1, I propose, is a narrative rendition o f the
sum m ons an d prom ises o f Isa. 55:1-3. It is a tale o f resistance (thus
enacting the sum m ons o f the poem ) and o f success (thus receiving
and exhibiting the prom ise o f life offered in the p o em ).
T h e story o f Daniel 1 moves from seduction through resistance to
liberated success in three scenes. The action is dated in the narrative
with reference to Nebuchadnezzar, the end o f whose regim e Second
Isaiah celebrates (cf. Dan. 1:1-2).
At the outset o f the narrative, we are given a glimpse o f the Jew
ish life (scene 1, w. 3-7). T he entire scene happens because “the
king com m anded” (v. 3). T here is no countervoice, no uncertainty,
no hesitation. T here is only one decisive voice. It is the voice of
Nebuchadnezzar.
T h e narrative quickly lays out the three im portant dim ensions
of the plot: (1) T he recruits for royal civil service are to be Jewish
youths who are in every way “com petent” (w. 3-4). This royal com
mission evokes the crisis o f the narrative. (2) T he youths selected
are to be inducted into the knowledge, skills, and intelligence o f the
em pire, th at is, “the letters and language of the Chaldeans” (v. 4).
Clearly th eir Jewishness is to be radically subordinated to the claims
and interests o f the em pire. (3) The Jewish recruits are to be nour
ished o n the rich food o f Babylon, perhaps as a reward, but m ore
obviously in o rd e r to m ake them acceptable physical specim ens for
standing before the king (v. 5). They are to be chosen in the first
instance because they are already handsom e and w ithout blemish;
nonetheless, rich im perial food will make them m ore so.
T he scene is one of imperial seduction, in which Jewish youths are

pressed into a service that contradicts their Jewishness. In this se
duction, however, there is no bad faith on the p art of the king. It is
assum ed th at any Jewish boy will be responsive to the opportunity of
upw ard mobility into the court. T he king who com m ands perceives
his o rd e r as no threat to Jewishness, as Jewishness is n o t a factor on
his horizon. T here is, nonetheless, subde irony in the awareness that
the king who would never acknowledge Jewishness as a factor singles
o u t Jews for his service. The narrator offers no com m ent on this odd
fact b u t only reports the royal action.
T he im perial seduction evokes fewish resistance (scene 2, w. 8-17).
Daniel is clearly the subject and cham pion o f the narrative. Daniel
understands immediately what in fact is happening. T he invitation to
training an d service in scene 1 is presented in the narrative as a neu
tral, “in n o cen t” offer. Only a discerning, faithful Jew can notice that
the offer o f such im perial food, given to qualify fo r the king’s pres
ence, is in fact “defilem ent.” Daniel introduces into the narrative a
partisan Jewish notion that would have been a surprise to N ebuchad
nezzar an d no doubt to the contem poraries o f the n arrato r to whom
the narrative is addressed.16 W hat is offered by N ebuchadnezzar is
simply “rich food” and “wine.” W hat is refused by Daniel, however, is
im perial “defilem ent.”
Daniel is politically shrewd, cooperative, and discerning; all his
deftness, however, is in the service o f his foundational theological
com m itm ent, which lies outside the em pire. Thus while the chief
o f the eunuchs and the steward are cooperative with Daniel, we are
told early th at “God gave Daniel favor and com passion” (v. 9). In the
first scene, only N ebuchadnezzar acts. In scene 2, the scene o f Jew
ish resistance, God is the decisive, albeit unseen, actor who in fact
dispatches the im perial officers to do G od’s work. D aniel’s coura
geous resolve is im plem ented to provide safeguards for frightened
16. This literature bespeaks the “sectarian strategy” that Stanley Hauerwas has
championed. On the strategy of the book of Daniel, Lynne Sharon Schwartz (“Dan
iel,” in Congregation: Contemporary Writers Read the Jewish Bible, ed. David Rosenberg
[New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1987], 420-21) writes: “Well, how do such
exiles manage? By dreaming, they serve their masters in good faith, with their spe
cial kind of divided integrity—a contradiction in terms. Certain things, things o f the
spirit, they do not, cannot compromise. What they hate most o f all is coercion. The
flesh they perm it to be coerced, but not the spirit. What they believe, they cling
to with fortitude, and with an earthly tenacity that both saps their strength and
replenishes it. They will not worship false o r frivolous gods, for then they would no
longer be who they are.”
A Poem o f Summons an d a N arrative o f Resistance 141
royal officers; these functionaries o f N ebuchadnezzar do not under
stand th at one o th er th an N ebuchadnezzar in fact dispatches them
in this narrative. Thus th ere is noth in g excessively abrupt o r disrup
tive in D aniel’s resistance. It takes place inside the structures and
procedures o f the royal design. His action is resistance nonetheless.
D aniel’s alternative to the rich food and wine of the em pire is
vegetables an d water (v. 12). T he prelim inary test o f the alternative
program , m ade to reassure the royal functionaries, is effective (w.
14-16). T he Jewish boys on the lean, nondefiling diet are “b etter in
appearance” a n d “fatter in flesh.” T he lean Jewish diet o f defiance
works b etter than the rich im perial diet.
T he culm ination o f liberated success is a vindication o f D aniel’s
firm resolve (scene 3, w. 18-21). N ebuchadnezzar had determ ined
scene 1 an d was com pletely absent in scene 2. Now the king reap
pears in the narrative to give the crucial verdict in scene 3. T he
verdict given by the king surprises no one. It does no t surprise Dan
iel, m an o f faith. It does n o t surprise the royal officers who had
already had a preview. Moreover, the verdict does no t surprise N ebu
chadnezzar, who is in n o cen t o f D aniel’s faith and D aniel’s stratagem.
In every regard, Daniel an d his friends are “ten times b etter” (v. 20).
No w onder D aniel is ensconced in royal service for a long time to
com e (v. 21)!
Note the reticence o f the narrative in telling the tale. Yahweh was
n o t present in scene 1, which belongs completely to N ebuchadnez
zar. Yahweh is decisive in scene 2 bu t unseen and unacknowledged
by the characters. In scene 3, Yahweh is again invisible, n o t even
m entioned in th e narrative. Any external observer m ight have per
ceived N ebuchadnezzar controlling m atters on his own terms. T he
n arrato r does n o t tell us otherwise. H e does no t explicitly challenge
N ebuchadnezzar’s dom inance in the third scene. We are left to draw
the conclusion th at G od’s favor an d compassion, explicit only in
verses 9 an d 17, in fact n o t only govern scene 2 bu t also determ ine
the outcom e o f scene 3. N ebuchadnezzar had im agined scene 3 to
be his triu m p h an t scene, b u t the listener moves to a very different
conclusion.
Daniel is offered to th e listeners o f the story as a m odel for resis
tance.17 His is a fine and careful blend o f cooperation and resistance.
17. See W. Lee Humphreys, “A Life-Style for Diaspora: A Study of the Tales o f
Esther and Daniel,” JBZ. 92 (1973): 217-23. See the splendid analysis of Daniel 1 by
W. Sibley Towner, “Daniel 1 in the Context of the Canon,” in Canon, Theology, and
With discipline and integrity, he knows where to draw the line for
Jewishness (that is, trust in G od’s favor and com passion) and against
im perial “defilem ent.” Notice how Daniel has drawn this line. H e
has refused to labor for that which is n o t bread, for that which does
n o t satisfy. H e has taken food and water w ithout im perial price tags
attached.18 H e has delighted his life in fatness. H e has cast him
self on the faithfulness o f Yahweh, relying on the “steadfast, sure
love” o f Yahweh. H e has indeed accepted the sum m ons o f the poem
o f Isa. 55:1-3 and received its prom ise o f life. H e has received life
and avoided the defilem ent o f subm itting his Jewishness to im perial
dom ination. The sum m ons is honored. T he prom ise is kept.
Ill
I propose th at the interrelation o f Isa. 55:1-3 and Dan. 1:1-21 is th at
of text and commentary. T he text of Isa. 55:1-3, according to criti
cal consensus, is securely dated and located at the en d o f the exile,
at the demise o f the Babylonian hegemony. T he poetry o f Isaiah
40-55 asserts the freedom an d capacity o f Jews to d ep art the em
pire. Israel’s invitation and authorization to leave the em pire, while
reflecting changed political realities, are cast by the p o et as a theo
logical issue concerning Yahweh’s sovereignty over Babylon. T hat
claim o f sovereignty is asserted by the p oet and calls for a deci
sion on the p art o f listening Israel. T he p o et presents the large an d
dangerous theological decision for Yahweh’s sovereignty as an act o f
concrete resistance to the seductive n u rtu re o f the em pire. The large
theological act o f departure depends on the specificity o f daily food.
Growing scholarly attention to “inner-biblical” interpretation per
mits us to u nderstand both o f these texts in fresh ways. Historical-
critical study has been concerned to place each text firmly in its
context o f origin. C oncerning the narratives of Daniel, historical
criticism has given its prim ary energy to the placem ent o f the nar
ratives in the M accabean crisis o f the second century, far away from
Old Testament Interpretation, ed. Gene M. Tucker et al. (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988),
285-98. Note as well his reference to Joyce Baldwin on p. 293.
18. Jurgen Moltmann (Theology and Joy [London: SCM, 1973], 54) writes of this
verse: “ ‘It’s all for nothing anyway,’ says the nihilist and falls into despair. ‘It’s really
all for nothing' says the believer, rejoicing in the grace which he can have for noth
ing, and hoping for a new world in which all is available and may be had for
nothing." The contrasting perspectives on “for nothing” bespeak the faith of the
community and the despair of the empire.
A Poem o f Summons and a Narrative o f Resistance 143
the sixth century, w hen its reported events purportedly happened.

T he result o f such a historical-critical interest has been to downplay
the powerful symbolism o f bo th N ebuchadnezzar an d Babylon in
the Daniel text. Moreover, the sociotheological issues addressed in
the text concerning displacem ent, oppression, and resistance have
b een neglected, an d affirmative and theological alternative an d po
litical possibility have b een unnoticed. T hat is, historical criticism
distracted in terpretation from noticing the m ain theological and
sociopolitical issues in the text.
However, once it is recognized that both the poem o f Isaiah 55
an d the narrative o f Daniel 1 address issues o f resistance and alterna
tive, the two texts may be related to each o th er in ways n o t allowed
by p u re historical criticism. W ithout denying that the narrative of
Daniel 1 may be m uch later than the poem o f Isaiah 55, it is cogent
to see th e close connection between poem and narrative as text and
comm entary. This connection does not necessarily draw the Daniel
narrative into the sixth century, bu t it does draw both texts into
the typological issues o f resistance and alternative th at repeatedly
concerned the com m unity o f early Judaism .
T h e move from historical-critical study to inner-biblical exegesis
perm its connections between texts that we may term “m idrashic.”
Such connections are n o t precise according to the m easures of his
torical criticism. They may be m uch m ore impressionistic, reflecting
enorm ous interpretative freedom and im agination. T he identifica
tion o f such imaginative connections, however, perm its us to see
afresh n o t only the “new text” derived from the foundational text
b u t also the foundational text in new configuration.19
C oncerning Daniel, J o h n Gammie has explored these m atters in
m ost detail, b u t as far as I can note, he has no t suggested the specific
connection discussed h ere.20 Following Gammie, W. Sibley Towner
concludes: “We seem to be on safe ground in asserting that one func
tion o f the stories o f Daniel 1-6 is to assure Jews that the visionary
hopes an d prom ises o f Isaiah 40-55 are indeed capable o f realization
am ong the o b ed ien t a n d wise o f Israel.”21
19. A basic study in this regard is that of Paul D. Hanson, The Dawn of Apoca
lyptic (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975). Hanson does not carry his work as far as the
literature of Daniel. He has, however, shown how Second Isaiah stands at the begin
ning of a literary-theological trajectory that continues to develop and generate new
literature and new modes o f literature.
20. Jo h n G. Gammie, “On the Intention and Sources of Daniel i-xi,” VT 32
(1981): 282-92.
21. W. Sibley Towner, Daniel, Interpretation (Adanta: John Knox, 1984), 27. Von
O nce we have opened the possibility that the poem o f Isa. 55:1-
3 may receive daring rearticulation and reappropriation into new
contexts,22 it is n o t difficult to identify some o f the connections be
tween o u r two texts. In these several connections, then, I suggest that
the in terp retin g tradition o f Daniel took up the text o f Isa. 55:1-3,
which urges resistance in a Babylonian situation, and reinterpreted
it for the sake o f Jews u n d er assault in the M accabean context. T he
connections between the two texts include the following:
1. The wisdom motif may indeed be present in both texts, given
the hypothesis o f Begrich concerning Isa. 55:1-3. Daniel is clearly
offered as a m odel wisdom figure.23 Inside the story Daniel is pre
sented as a wise character; and the narrative itself cham pions wisdom
as a m ode o f life. If Begrich is right, the sum m ons in Isa. 55:1-3 is
the voice o f wisdom, sum m oning Israel precisely to the kind o f ac
tion u n d ertak en by Daniel. Wisdom, then, is the capacity to discern
the tru e character of o n e’s context as a place w here death threat
ens, w here life is offered, and where Yahweh can be trusted to give
life. Foolishness is to seek life from o ther sources that can only yield
death (cf. Prov. 8:32-36).24
2. The Babylonian connection is central in both texts, though that
reference n eed n o t be read historically, that is, as a sixth-century
reality. “Babylon” can be taken dramatically and m etaphorically as
an option for life that is clearly false and that will rob one o f
o n e’s nephesh. Taken dramatically and metaphorically, there is no
im pedim ent in reidentifying N ebuchadnezzar as Antiochus, as the
oppressed com m unity presumably did.25 However construed, the fig
Rad (Old Testament Theology, 2:314 n. 29) suggests that parts of Daniel might be
described as a pesher on Isaiah. See also LaCocque, The Book of Daniel, 1 η. 1,
where the same judgm ent is expressed. On the relation o f these literary traditions,
Klaus Baltzer (“Liberation from Debt Slavery after the Exile in Second Isaiah and
Nehemiah,” in Ancient Israelite Religion, 480) concludes: “It has often been observed
how vague the details regarding the situation of the exiles are in Second Isaiah.
About this subject we learn a great deal more from a line o f literature running from
Jerem iah 29 through the Book of Ezekiel to Daniel 1-6. These are texts describing
captivity in Second Isaiah.”
22. O n the reinterpretative process in relation to Daniel, see Brevard S. Childs,
Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979), 618-22.
23. Humphreys (“A Life-Style for Diaspora”) has shown not only the wisdom in
tent of the narrative but also how the wise walk a fine line between accommodation
and defiance.
24. O n wisdom’s gift of life, see Roland E. Murphy, “The Kerygma of the Book of
Proverbs,” Int 20 (1966): 3-14.
25. W. Sibley Towner (“Were the English Puritans ‘The Saints of the Most H igh’?”
Int 37 [1983]: 46-63) has shrewdly explicated the way in which these historical
A Poem o f Summons an d a Narrative of Resistance 145
u re o f N ebuchadnezzar an d the presence o f Babylon are necessary

to provide a foil for the invitation and offer o f Yahweh.
3. M ore obvious than the function o f wisdom and the crucial-
ity o f Babylon in bo th texts is the concreteness of food in bo th texts.
“Food” h ere may be taken m etaphorically as referring to m uch m ore
than the d iet o f harassed Jews. It should not, however, be spiritu
alized away from the concreteness o f nourishm ent and sustenance.
Food is a m etap h o r th at does not lose its concrete vehicle. It does
in d eed so refer to sustenance, life-support, and livelihood, which the
em pire would gladly give, b u t at great price. T he price for such food
and wine is the cost o f o n e ’s nephesh,26 To spiritualize the alternative
food o f the poem , as com m entators are prone to do, is to dim inish
the concrete d an g er a n d the daily urgency o f the choice offered. To
be sure, the food in the Daniel narrative cannot so easily be treated
as m etap h o r as in the Isaiah poem . Nonetheless, bo th texts address
real-life issues fraught with danger and risk, concerning bo th the
possibility o f historical survival and the survival o f faith, freedom ,
hope, an d im agination.
4. T he com m on elem ents o f wisdom, Babylon, and food lead us
to see th at b o th texts concern resistance, what Towner calls “this mag
nificent refusal.”27 T he two texts belong to a sustained concern in
postexilic Judaism th at the com m unity o f faith m ust intentionally re
sist being b o u g h t off an d seduced when it is offered life on terms
o th er than th e covenantal offer o f Yahweh.28 The issue o f resistance
names become ciphers to be filled with various interpretative identities. Towner

(“Daniel 1 in the Context of the Canon,” 291) suggests that Daniel 1 is a “refraction”
of 2 Kings 25:30. If this is plausible, the narrative is drawn more closely into the
Babylonian crisis of the sixth century that preoccupied the poet o f Isaiah 55.
26. In both these texts, Babylonian food robs Israel of its nephesh. This is an
oddly telling notion because in other contexts, it is food that restores one’s nephesh
(cf. 2 Sam. 16:14). See Hans Walter Wolff, Old Testament Anthropology (Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1974), 10-22.
27. Towner, Daniel, 23.
28. Jo h n G. Gammie (“The Classification, Stages of Growth, and Changing In
tentions in the Book of Daniel,” JBL 95 [1976]: 191-204) has demonstrated that
the literature of Daniel cannot be linked exclusively to the Maccabean crisis. Thus
it is the sociotheological situation of exile rather than a concrete historical place
m ent that is im portant for reading the text. Schwartz (“Daniel,” 424) observes: “In
truth, as unearthed by research and archaeology and linguistic analysis, the author
of Daniel was of another, later time, another place, and obsessed with other events
entirely. He was indulging in a clever and now familiar tactic, using the Babylonian
exile to illuminate the destiny of Israel in his own day.” Just as the precritical link
to the sixth century is not defensible, so the critical link to the second century
need not be held too closely. What counts is the social paradigm and the task of
reinterpretation.
and alternative, so crucial to the character o f Judaism , is focused pre

cisely in the recognition that the “alternative food” is indeed real
food, even while it alludes to m uch m ore. Said in o th er language,
resistance to the em pire requires a theological-spiritual decision, but
also a concrete, intentional political act. T he narrative o f Daniel 1,
perhaps many generations after the poem , asserts an d attests that
the poem o f Isaiah 55 is true. Life reliant on alternative sustenance
is em braceable and livable, albeit with risk. Only with this risk can
there be hom ecom ing for the exiles. Indeed, only with this risk can
there be a com m unity counter to the em pire.
IV
Claus W esterm ann has worked incessantly to clarify m atters o f schol
arly m ethod with particular reference to form criticism. This essay
evidences in a small detail the way in which new m ethods are devel
oping from W esterm ann’s magisterial work in form analysis. O n the
one hand, the connection I have proposed between the two texts
depends on the traditioning process of constant reinterpretation, so
that texts are endlessly com m entaries on earlier texts. Thus, inter-
textual reading has em erged as a new m ethodological possibility. O n
the o th er hand, the posing of sociopolitical questions (inchoate in
W esterm ann’s work) leads us to focus on futures generated by the
text.
T he heuristic value of seeing these two texts as “text an d com
m entary” is to show that the narrative o f Daniel 1 is n o t only a “new
text” b u t also an old poem rearticulated. It is, further, to show that
the poem o f Isa. 55:1-3 is not only a marvelous offer b u t also an
invitation to resistance. The hom ecom ing offered here, so crucial
to Judaism , is at an enorm ous cost.29 It m atters, therefore, th at the
voice o f sum m ons and prom ise (that shows up hiddenly in Dan. 1:9)
is in d eed the voice o f the faithful God o f Israel. This voice, which
sounds variously like a vendor, like wisdom, like an invitation to the
shrine o r to a royal banquet, is the voice of the God who orders
wisdom, governs empires, m anages alternative diets, and sustains a
com m unity o f faithful obedience.
29. O n the paradigmatic significance of exile and homecoming for Jewish faith,
see Jacob Neusner, Understanding Seeking Faith (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986), 115—
49. Neusner has shown how the language of crucifixion and resurrection has served
Jewish speech about exile and homecoming.
Part Three
A Social Reading of
Particular Issues
<
8_______________
Israel’s Social Criticism
and Yahweh’s Sexuality
T h e ISSUE o f the m asculinity/fem ininity o f God is a difficult

question for theology in general and for biblical interpretation in
particular. It is n o t clear how m uch of the long-standing practice of
m asculine imagery is due to unreflective custom and how m uch of
it derives from deliberate conviction. T he linguistic questions reflect
com plex substantive issues. No discipline has contributed so m uch
in shaping the issue o f language and imagery as has O ld Testam ent
study with its vigorous assertion o f the masculinity o f God and its
polem ical resistance to C anaanite fertility goddesses; for no disci
pline is m ore at stake in term s o f the basic perceptions th at govern
research. Perhaps O ld Testam ent studies have a peculiar response
to m ake to the question. T he following discussion is an attem pt to
assess som e aspects o f the problem as they im pinge u p o n and are
influenced by O ld Testam ent studies.
I
O ld T estam ent studies in the U nited States have largely been shaped
in recen t decades by a construct of faith against culture. Following
149
William F. A lbright,1 G. Ernest Wright2 has given the m ost popu

lar a n d effective expression o f this stance o f interpretation. T he
“againstness” o f W right’s program applies to two concerns. First, it
articulates Israelite faith in relation to C anaanite religion, so that
the distinctiveness o f Israel’s faith is asserted. W right builds on
the program m atic statem ent o f Albright3 concerning the nature of
Yahweh:
The belief in the existence of only one God, who is Creator of the
world and giver of all life; the belief that God is holy and just, with
out sexuality or mythology; the belief that God is invisible to man
except under special conditions and that no graphic nor plastic rep
resentation of Him is permissible; the belief that God is not restricted
to any part of His creation, but is equally at home in heaven, in the
desert, or in Palestine; the belief that God is so far superior to all cre
ated beings, whether heavenly bodies, angelic messengers, demons
or false gods, that He remains absolutely unique; the belief that God
has chosen Israel by formal compact to be His favored people, guided
exclusively by laws imposed by Him.4
A lbright5 delineates this God as one w ithout sexuality o r m ythol

ogy a n d not, as is often presum ed, as a m asculine God. T he
asexuality of Yahweh is presented as an essential m ark o f Yahweh in
contrast to the gods o f Canaan. It is clear that the contrast A lbright
and W right wish to establish concerns the distinctively covenantal
character o f Israel’s God and the tem ptation to syncretism th at an
cient Israel always faced.6 Thus, the againstness asserts discontinuity
betw een Israel’s faith and the religion of its neighbors.
A second concern of W right (not so often noticed) is the rejec
tion o f nineteenth-century evolutionism, especially associated with
the nam e o f Julius W ellhausen.7 Indeed, A lbright’s m ajor work was
1. William F. Albright, Archaeology and the Religion of Israel (Baltimore: Johns

Hopkins Univ. Press, 1956); idem, From Stone Age to Christianity (Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins Univ. Press, 1957).
2. G. Ernest Wright, The Old Testament against Its Environment, SBT 2 (London:
SCM, 1959); idem, The Old Testament and Theology (New York: H arper and Row,
1969).
S. Albright, Archaeology, 116.
4. Wright, The Old Testament and Theology, 29.
5. Albright, Archaeology, 110-19; idem, Yahweh and the Gods of Canaan (Garden
City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1968).
6. Wright, The Old Testament against Its Environment, 62-63.
7. Ibid., 15.
Israel's Social Criticism an d Yahweh’s Sexuality 151
in ten d ed to refute the entire evolutionary paradigm as an adequate

intellectual fram e o f reference for Scripture study.8
T hese two concerns— (1) Israel against Canaan, and (2) covenant
theology against cultural evolutionism and developm ental under
standings o f religion—while both im portant, have no t always been
distinguished as they n eed to be. For that reason it is likely that
some o f the rhetoric o f “Israel against Canaan” is in fact a stric
ture against cultural evolutionism and the assum ption o f natural
continuity betw een faith an d culture in our own time. Thus the an
cient controversy o f Israel/C anaan is used to present a contemporary
herm eneutical conflict. T he in ten t of W right may well be missed
unless his program o f “againstness” is seen as a critique o f contem
porary cultural religion, em bodied in O ld Testam ent studies u n d er
the nam e o f W ellhausen.
As we consider the issue of fidelity and sexuality in Yahweh, two
m atters n eed to be distinguished. First, the problem , as A lbright an
no u n ced it, concerns n o t the masculinity or femininity o f G od bu t
the asexuality o f God. T he concern is to dissociate this G od from
all cultural forms o f growth, productivity, and continuity, to express
G od’s otherness and therefore G od’s sovereign freedom from and
over all cultural claims.9 Thus, asexuality is a function o f G od’s free
sovereignty.
Second, while a statem ent o f G od’s asexuality is a clear way o f
expressing G od’s sovereign freedom , asexual imagery entails its own
problem s. In a search for effective symbols, we are inevitably drawn
into th e issue o f masculine/feminine symbolism, which m ust be differ
entiated from th at o f the question o f asexual/sexual symbolism. While
we may wish to stay with this latter question, it is n o t possible. We
are inevitably drawn into the issue of m asculine/fem inine imagery.
It is likely th at this second discussion of masculine and fem inine
8. Albright, From Stone Age to Christianity.

9. Patrick D. Miller has p u t the issue well in a private communication: “The
presumed dangers in use of feminine language and imagery lie in two areas:
a) thinking of God in the image of sexual relations (intercourse), and b) think
ing of God as giving birth, procreating. It seems to me that neither o f these is
totally ruled out in masculine imagery. (We have hung eroticism on the female
rather than the male, which is ridiculous.)” We are not protected from the dangers
o f the sexuality o f God by insisting on masculine images. The point at issue clearly
is to maintain Yahweh’s independence from creation and to assert the sharp discon
tinuity between God and culture. This requires imagery that denies that God either
births or begets culture. There is no evidence that masculine imagery is more ef
fective than feminine imagery in this regard. (This essay has benefited greatly from
the suggestions and criticisms o f Miller.)
symbols still concerns the same issue, th at is, faith and culture. T he
“againstness” o f W right’s program m ust be seen in the context o f a
confessional biblical theology m ovem ent that sought to com bat reli
gious liberalism often linked to Friedrich Schleiermacher. Thus, the
ancient issue o f syncretism has an overlay o f an u rg en t contem porary
issue. T he same overlay o f a contem porary issue is evident in the cur
ren t discussion o f the m asculinity/fem ininity o f God. T he battle line
betw een those who urge a new rhetoric o f sexuality and those who
cham pion traditional m asculine imagery also appears to concern the
interface between faith a n d culture.
T he heritage o f “againstness” in scholarship has left us with two
very different issues: (1) the asexuality of Yahweh as a way o f as
serting G od’s freedom and sovereignty against every form o f culture
religion; and (2) the problem of m asculine/fem inine imagery in the
quest for a responsible interface between faith and culture. T he d o u
ble problem exists because even for those who m ost strongly assert
the asexuality o f Yahweh, some imagery about “him ” seems unavoid
able. Thus while we may wish to assert the asexuality o f Yahweh,
the problem o f language an d symbolism in reality transposes the
question to o ne o f m asculine an d fem inine imagery.
II
W right’s statem ent of “againstness” has been constant in his work,
b u t th e issues have been defined som ewhat differently over a period
of time. His position was articulated quite early and in a context th at
included a polem ic against Schleierm acher.10 Various scholars have
m ore recently articulated the issue in ways th at require revision o f a
position o f simple againstness.
A nticipating a new perspective, W alter H arrelson raised the ques
tion o f the positive values o f syncretism. A lbright h ad shown th at
wholesale borrowing o f Canaanite culture had occurred already in
Israel’s formative period. H arrelson discerned th at such borrow ing
is never fully intentional, n o t unam biguously bad, and often u n
recognized. T herefore, resistance to borrowing and m aintenance of
“purity” are n o t likely to be single-m inded and effective. Syncretism,
according to H arrelson, is n o t to be understood as a willful perver
sion n o r as a sudden decision, but as a long process of the gradual
10. G. Ernest Wright, The Challenge of Israel's Faith (Chicago: Univ. of Chicago
Press, 1944).
Israel’s Social Criticism an d Yahweh’s Sexuality 153
transform ation o f perception, so that even the resisters are a p art o f

the change.
In short, the prophets use the mythology o f the ancient Near East to
portray the coming of a wrathful God against his people. And here
is my point: as they do so, they are practicing what could be called
reflective syncretism. They deliberately use imagery that is “in the
air”; they shape it to their own ends; but they are not intimidated
from using such imagery by the fact that others use it and that they
do so in the worship o f other gods than Yahweh.11
T he strong an d single-m inded againstness that has been urged as

a d o m in an t paradigm is probably too clean to reflect the ways in
which cultural forms an d perceptions im pinge upon an d influence
one another.
Later, H arrelson12 sought to articulate an alternative to the sharp
againstness in a book th at reflects a m ore subtle and dialectical
und erstan d in g o f the im pact o f cultural context on Israel’s faith. H e
argues for a different fram e o f perception that recognizes an d af
firms th e essential continuities betw een Canaanite and Israelite forms
o f faith. While H arrelson does n o t urge return to a paradigm o f evo
lutionary continuity, h e recognizes that the paradigm of againstness
claims too m uch. His book appeals for an alternative construct in
which continuities an d discontinuities may be seen as m uch m ore
fluid an d com plex. Frank M. Cross has also noted the delicate issue
o f continuity with Canaanite culture. H e observes “the tendency of
scholars to overlook o r suppress continuities betw een the early reli
gion o f Israel an d the C anaanite (or Northwest Semitic) culture from
which it em erged. T here has b een a preoccupation with the novelty
o f Israel’s religious consciousness.”1*
If we are to think afresh about the issue of m asculine/fem inine
imagery for God, it is im portant to (1) recognize that the issue
is tangled in very large fa ith /cu ltu re issues and cannot be sepa
rated from them an d reduced simply to the issue o f sexuality, and
(2) see that this fundam ental faith /cu ltu re issue perm its different
positions an d nuances th at in part have to do with o n e ’s h erm e
neutical paradigm . T he issue requires careful discernm ent about the
11. Walter Harrelson, “Prophecy and Syncretism,” ANQ 4 (1964): 10.

12. Walter Harrelson, From Fertility Cult to Worship (Garden Citv, N.Y.: Doubleday,
1969).
13. Frank M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
Univ. Press, 1973), vii-viii.
herm eneutical paradigm s that operate because they will be inform a

tive if n o t decisive when the question o f masculinity an d femininity
is addressed. Bertil Albrektson has argued that the “God who acts in
history” them e is n o t distinctive to Yahwism b u t is one way in which
various cultures have understood their gods.14 Such an argum ent,
if it can be sustained, does n o t preclude the conclusion that Yah
weh acted differendy, that is, m ore freely, m ore graciously, m ore fully
sovereignly, as Albrektson him self concedes.15 But if he is correct, we
are w arned against too easy assertions about distinctiveness and too
great an em phasis u p o n againstness.
Claus W esterm ann has urged the im portant distinction of sal
vation and blessing.16 Salvation is understood as an intrusive event,
blessing as abiding sustenance discernible in the structure and gover
nance o f life. W esterm ann does no t wish to overstate the difference
or to develop a sharp antithesis. H e does, however, correlate sal
vation with historical traditions and blessing with creation-wisdom
traditions.17 O n the basis of his work, it may be possible to do an
analysis o f the sociology that is behind each o f these faith expres
sions. It surely is the case that the proponents o f “against” have
stressed salvation to the neglect of the blessing tradition. And now
the m atter m ust be redressed if serious biblical theology is to be
done.
T he salvation/blessing images may be correlated with two dif
ferent views o f faith in relation to culture, which in tu rn m ight be
correlated with symbolizations o f God in masculine and fem inine
terms. Patrick D. Miller has provided an o th er im portant expression
of th e issues articulated by Albrektson and W esterm ann in exploring
a faith /cu ltu re m odel that is n o t so one-sidedly focused on discon
tinuity.18 H e suggests that scholars in the tradition of A lbright an d
W right (as Miller him self is) are indeed reassessing the com plexi
ties and possibilities that have been screened out by a paradigm o f
againstness. This is particularly evident in the explorations o f the
14. Bertil Albrektson, History and the Gods (Lund: Gleerup, 1967).
15. Ibid., 114.
16. Claus Westermann, “The Way o f Promise through the Old Testament,” in The
Old Testament and Christian Faith, ed. Bernhard W. Anderson (New York: H arper
and Row, 1963); idem, Blessing in the Bible and the Church (Philadelphia: Fortress,
1978); idem, “Creation and History in the Old Testament,” in The Gospel and Human
Destiny, ed. Vilma Vajta (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1971).
17. Westermann, “The Way of Promise,” 210; idem, “Creation and History,” 30.
1H. Patrick D. Miller, “God and the Gods,” Affirmation 1 (1973): 37-62.
myth o f the Divine W arrior by Cross, Miller, and Paul H anson.19

M iller’s discussion suggests th at if the large fa ith /cu ltu re issue as it
is focused on continuity/discontinuity perm its several readings and
needs to be rethought, th en the derivative issue o f the sexuality of
God may also require new consideration.
In a later article, M iller exam ined the blessing o f Num. 6:22-26
and, following W esterm ann, considered the m eaning o f blessing as
it is distinct from salvation.20 It is even clearer in the work o f Miller
than th at o f W esterm ann th at in the distinction o f blessing a n d salva
tion, th ere are theological resources an d challenges th at have b een
neglected because o f o u r preoccupation with the salvation-history
traditions. T he stress on discontinuity has in fact resulted in a “virile”
if n o t m asculine God.
So far as I am aware, n eith er W esterm ann n o r Miller has gone be
yond the polarities o f blessing/salvation and creatio n /red em p tio n
to the issue o f images o f sexuality. From their work, nevertheless,
such a polarity as salvation/blessing m ight also be understood in
term s o f a correlation o f blessing with femininity, o f salvation with
masculinity. As b o th W esterm ann and Miller have presented it, salva
tion has to do with a forceful authoritative thrust to alter a situation,
w hereas blessing has to do with sustaining embrace. I do n o t urge
this m ore than tentatively, but it cannot be unim portant th at the
distinctiveness o f the “God who acts” is expressed in term s o f intru
sive saving deeds. “H e” may be asexual, but “his” m anifestations are
p resented in decisively m asculine ways. Thus, W right speaks o f God
who is living, active, powerful.21 H e asserts, “Hence, anthropom or
phism in O ld Testam ent religion was the very reason for its dynamic
an d virile character.” First, we should note that anthropom orphism
is affirm ed as essential to Israel’s understanding of Yahweh, an d ob
viously asexual anthropom orphism is a contradiction. W right’s own
statem ent leads one to suspect that Israel’s anthropom orphism does
n o t exclude the dim ension o f sexuality. Second, it is striking that
he uses th e word “virile.” While his subject is the Old Testament,
it surely is clear that he m eans Israel’s understanding o f Yahweh
who is virile. But n eith er Yahweh n o r the Old Testam ent can at the
same tim e be virile an d asexual. It is likely that the assertion o f an
19. Cross, Canaanite Myth, 1-194; Patrick D. Miller, The Divine Warrior in Early
Israel, HSM 5 (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univ.Press,1973); Paul D.Hanson,The
Dawn of Apocalyptic (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975).
20. Patrick D. Miller, “The Blessing of God,” Int 29 (1975): 240-51.
21. Wright, Challenge of Israel’s Faith, 66.
/V, Λ Social Reading o f the Old Testament
.ucxual God is here transform ed in the interest o f an o th er agenda.

Interestingly, one m eaning o f the term “virile” is “capable of pro
creation." We should not hold W right accountable for too m uch
with o n e word, but it indicates how slippery are the issues of dis-
tinctiveness and continuity. And if in such a context we may speak
of “virility,” we may ask if there is theoretically a possibility o f “fe
cundity” in characterizing the God o f Israel. My point is n o t to urge
such imagery bu t to observe how exceedingly difficult it is to prevent
asexuality from in fact being the imagery of masculinity. O ne would
not seem to be m ore problem atic than the o ther if one m ust choose
between “virility” and “fecundity.” In discussing the problem atics o f
anthropom orphism , Phyllis Trible22 notes the n eed for developing
“gynom orphism s.” Thus even to speak o f “anthropom orphism s” is
already a decision on the question before us, a decision m ade even
by those who affirm Yahweh’s asexuality. Trible speaks o f “an th ro
pom orphic and gynom orphic images.”23 Derivatively, the “G od who
acts” tradition has found the wisdom traditions problem atic precisely
when the deity does no t intrude b u t sustains and nourishes (see
Isa. 55:1-3, m ost likely a sapiential tradition). Thus anthropom orphic
images are p referred in this tradition o f interpretation to the neglect
o f images o f embrace.
In various ways, the work o f H arrelson, Albrektson, Miller, Cross,
and W esterm ann suggests th at the one-sided paradigm o f againstness
is precarious in term s of considering the data. A nd when against
ness can n o t be affirm ed with such single-mindedness, the issue o f
asexuality may n eed to be expressed in imagery both masculine and
fem inine.
We may suggest some correlations in interpretative paradigm s
that may illum inate o u r work:
faith against culture faith sustaining culture

I 4
salvation blessing
i 4
a masculine image of God a feminine image of God
22. Phyllis Trible, “Depatriarchalizing in Biblical Interpretation,” JAAJi 41 (1973):

33.
23. Phyllis Trible, “God, Nature of, in the Old Testament," in IDBSup (New York:
Abingdon, 1976), 368-96.
It is not likely that eith er set o f correlates will account for all o f the
data. Rather, what is urged is that all o f these issues converge in
the developm ent o f an interpretative m odel. While the influential
paradigm o f A lbright and W right was singular in its com m itm ent,
m ore recen t scholarship suggests several possible m odels th at may
well coexist in the texts.
Ill
The covenant/syncretism issue as W right has articulated it has m uch
to com m end it b oth in term s o f textual evidence and in term s o f a
paradigm for in terpretation. Israel is always placed in a struggle both
“to be like the nations” (1 Sam. 8:5, 20; 2 Kings 17:8) an d to be 'am
qados, a people holy to the L ord (Deut. 4:6-8; 7:6-11). Israel will avoid
a choice on this question in every possible way. Thus, while there is
a concern for againstness, the evidence shows that Israel tried often
to be on b o th sides o f the covenant/syncretism question (1 Kings
18:21).
In this section, I wish to urge that while the covenant/syncretism
issue has n o t b een reduced in im portance by recent scholarship, it
has b een set in a new context and discerned in new categories, es
pecially by the work o f George M endenhall and N orm an Gottwald.24
T he issues that led to W right’s posture o f againstness are now ex
24. George Mendenhall, Law and Covenant in Israel and the Ancient Near East
(Pittsburgh: Biblical Colloquium, 1955) (reprinted in The Biblical Archaeologist Reader
[Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970], 3:3-53); idem, “The Hebrew Conquest of
Palestine,” BA 25 (1962) : 66-87 (reprinted in The Biblical Archaeologist Reader [Gar
den City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970], 3:100-120); idem, The Tenth Generation (Baltimore:
Johns Hopkins Univ. Press, 1975), 1-31, 174-226; idem, “The Conflict between
Value Systems and Social Control,” in Unity and Diversity, ed. Hans Goedicke and
J. J. M. Roberts (Baltimore·. Johns Hopkins Univ. Press, 1975), 169-80; idem, “The
Monarchy,” Int 29 (1975): 155-70; idem, “Samuel’s Broken Rib: Deuteronomy 32,”
in No Famine in the Land, ed. James W. Flanagan and James M. Robinson (Missoula,
Mont.: Scholars Press, 1975), 63-74; idem, “Migration Theories vs. Culture Change
as an Explanation for Early Israel,” in SBLSP, ed. George MacRae (Missoula, Mont.:
Scholar Press, 1976), 135-44. As to Gottwald’s work, see Norman Gottwald, “Domain
Assumptions and Societal Models in the Study o f Premonarchic Israel,” VTSup 28
(1974): 89-100; idem, “Were the Early Israelites Pastoral Nomads?” in Rhetorical
Criticism, ed. Jared J. Jackson and Martin Kessler (Pittsburgh: Pickwick, 1974), 223-
55; idem, “Biblical Theology or Biblical Sociology?” in Radical Religion 2 (1975):
46-57; idem, “Early Israel and the Asiatic Mode of Production,” in SBLSP, ed.
George MacRae (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1976), 145-64; idem and Frank
Frick, “The Social World of Ancient Israel,” in The Bible and Liberation (Berkeley:
Community for Religious Research and Education, 1976), 110-19.
pressed prim arily in term s o f econom ic and political m atters rather

than in the categories o f myth and religion.
R ecent sociological study o f ancient Israel urges that Israel rep
resents in the ancient world a radical social m utation that can be
u n d erstood only in term s o f the liberating activity o f the heretofore
u n n am ed God. T hat is, the disclosure o f Yahweh (and consequently
Israel) as known in the early traditions o f exodus, Sinai, an d “con
quest” cannot be extrapolated from already existing social reality.
This radical social m utation in the ancient world consists o f two
elem ents. First, there is a new understanding o f God as one who
is n o t at hom e with the establishm ent structures o f the day and
whose action is expressed as solidarity with the p o o r and disenfran
chised. This God is to b e sharply contrasted with the gods o f the
establishm ent, who legitim ate the status quo an d sanction social op
pression. (This m uch agrees with the “againstness” as W right has
p resented it.) Second, the m utation of Israel is sociologically signif
icant as the em ergence o f a radically different social organization,
n o t aro u n d the coercive power and valuing o f establishm ent law, but
aro u n d the covenanting activity o f this God with the disenfranchised,
who then establish alternative public institutions to give durability
to covenantal relations.25 The two parts of the paradigm thus speak
o f (1) the em ergence o f a covenant-making, covenant-keeping God
who calls a people to covenant with God, and (2) the establishm ent
o f social organizations, institutions, and ideology that give histori
cal concreteness to the presence an d rule o f this new God. The
social criticism involved in this scholarship has focused on the close
an d crucial connection between the character of God an d legitimated
social institutions. O n the one hand, the gods of the establishm ent be
long appropriately with oppressive social institutions. O n the other
hand, the unexpectedly liberating God belongs appropriately with
covenantal social institutions th at redistribute political power and
rearticulate hum an dignity and value.
M endenhall had already m ade a strong case for the peculiarly
covenantal character of Israel.26 Unfortunately, his presentation was
understood to focus on parallels to nonbiblical political treaties.
While scholars have been preoccupied with that question, there has
been general neglect o f M endenhall’s identification o f the im pulse
to social revolution in Israel’s new m odel o f social reality, w hether or
25. Mendenhall, “Value Systems and Social Control,” 174-75.

26. Mendenhall, “Law and Covenant.”
not il was paralleled outside Israel. It is this latter that is likely the
crucial elem ent in M endenhall’s hypothesis.
In his later work, M endenhall has been primarily concerned with
the social theory an d organization Israel deduced from the liberat
ing, covenant-m aking character o f Yahweh. Thus, M endenhall has
proposed th at o u t o f this perception of the new liberating G od have
com e the energy an d authority to m ount a social revolution th at en
abled the peasants to throw off tyrannical city-kings and establish
new form s o f social reality.27 T he character o f Israel and the char
acter o f Yahweh b oth stand as a challenge to Canaanite religion and
Canaanite politics. T he socially revolutionary m ovem ent o f Israel is
o riented to a kind o f dem ocratic freedom .
Gottwald even m ore strongly has presented the againstness of
Israel in sociological term s by seeing the connection between the
character o f G od an d the character of social reality.28 He asserts that
the notion of gods/goddesses having sexuality makes the natural
processes the source o f life and vitality. And since those natural pro
cesses are controlled by the priestly/royal establishm ent, the power
to life is m onopolized precisely by the forces of affluence and order
that inevitably will be oppressive. Thus, Gottwald is able to show soci
ologically what is at stake in the question of the sexuality/asexuality
o f God. T he issue is n o t at all w hether God is m asculine or femi
nine. T he issue is ra th e r w hether this God works in sexual ways so
that God is continuous with the norm al social and natural processes,
o r w hether this God works in covenantal ways and is discontinuous
both from natural processes and the social apparatus.29 T he one way
(which is the way o f every self-justifying culture in Israel’s time and in
o u r own) denies the freedom o f God and eliminates every appeal to
radical transcendence an d with it every possibility o f social protest,
and revolution. T he o th er way (which is the way of the radical m uta
tion o f Yahweh with Israel) affirms the freedom o f God over against
every social structure and makes possible appeal to a transcendence
27. Mendenhall, “Hebrew Conquest” and “Migration Theories.”

28. Gottwald, “Biblical Theology.”
29. In this proposition, im portant questions may be raised about the intent of
so-called process theologies that in some sense see God as continuous with the
process. O n the one hand, such a perspective seems not to require a break with
the dom inant rationality of the academy. On the other hand, we may doubt if such
a herm eneutic of continuity can generate any serious or radical ethical critique.
Thus when process and covenant are placed in juxtaposition, im portant herm eneutical
issues are raised. O ne may wonder about liberationists who attempt to move from a
process hermeneutic.
that gives a basis for social criticism, protest and revolution. Gott
wald argues that the sexuality o f God (masculine o r fem inine) finally
leads to social conservatism and the legitim atization o f hierarchy and
its im plicit oppression. T he asexuality of Yahweh m eans that social
cohesion happens no t naturally but only by intentional, historical
covenanting. This m eans th at every social reality can be criticized,
an d new social realities can em erge through the process o f covenant
ing. Thus, the sexuality/asexuality issue is linked to that of oppressive
social necessity and liberating social possibility.
M endenhall has traced the sociopolitical im plications o f this con
trast. Israel’s vision o f reality tends to a society th at values hum an
persons, whereas Canaanite perceptions could never do so:
If the kings of the Late Bronze Age regarded their dominions as

something delegated to them from the divine world, it needed only
the introduction of an ethic to see that the divine world itself could
rule without the extravagantly expensive prestige, symbols of the
temple, palace and military establishment of the kings. The Mosaic
covenant provided this ethical system, and it created a new people out
of the ashes of the Late Bronze Age cultures. The history of Western
man is a history of the alternatives between the ethical principle and
the technological-political one. This is the battle between Yahweh and
Baal; the Lord of the All Powerful State, the source of all prosperity
and security, the Lord of Heaven and Earth, but actually the ancient
m onument to the primitive tribal mentality which was at least for a
short time abolished and transcended in the Mosaic monotheism of
ancient Israel. But though Baal dies, he perpetually rises again___
It was the Mosaic period which constituted revolution; with Sol
omon the counterrevolution triumphed completely, only to collapse
under the same weight of political tyranny and arrogance which had
so much to do with the troubles of the pre-Mosaic period___The real
issue was a fairly simple one: whether or not the well-being o f per
sons is a function of a social monopoly of force, or the consequence
of the operation o f ethical norms, which are values determining the
behavior of persons in society.30
It will be clear that the againstness issue o f W right has been m ea
surably advanced by M endenhall and Gottwald. T he issues o f fa ith /
culture and of covenant/syncretism continue to be crucial, as they
have been to Wright. But now the sociological issues have com e to
the fore so that it is no longer a question o f mythological against
30. Mendenhall, The Tenth Generation, 173, 196-97.

h m rl v Social Criticism an d Yahweh’s Sexuality 161
himorical religion but a question o f hierarchical, oppressive social

irality and the possibility o f covenant. Thus, in term s o f the correla
tion» wc have suggested, we may now include the elem ent of social
organization:
lailh against culture faith sustaining culture

I i
salvation blessing
i I
a IVcc God as asexual a sexual god naturally
(conventionally presented linked to social process
in masculine image) (polemically characterized
as feminine)31
4
a possible novum of a necessary social organization
social reorganization, celebrative of status quo, shaped
ihaped by covenant and by natural necessity and
organized democratically hierarchically
It will be evident that there is a m ajor problem with this schema-

tization, an d it is the m ajor problem related to the entire issue o f
Yahweh’s sexuality. O n the one hand, the m asculine image o f God
with his intrusive capacity to shatter and make new is conventionally
»een as m ore apropos than the fem inine image of God, polemically
characterized as em bracing o f w hat is and blessing things as they are.
These images thus suggest a contrast between a promissory an d a con
serving no tio n o f G od, and, in th at respect, one can easily p refer the
one to the other. O n the o th er hand, the radical criticism offered by
Mendenhall an d especially Gottwald has n o t contrasted m asculine
and fem inine in God b u t has restated the issue in the m ore radi
cal terms o f sexuality/asexuality. Thus all imagery about God that
suggests any continuity between God and the natural, social world
is placed in question. We m ust face the central problem atic o f this
tradition o f scholarship an d o f the Bible itself—namely, it intends to
•peak o f G od in asexual term s b u t rather consistently uses mascu
line images to do so. T he issue has been transform ed now so that
our discernm ent of God has to do with a covenantal m odel th at has
31. In a lecture in St. Louis on February 4, 1977, Claus Westermann distinguished

between the God who saves and the God who blesses. His telling conclusion was that
the God who blesses “cannot fail or suffer.”
im p o rtan t social implications or a noncovenantal model that has o th er

social implications. And we m ust explore how Israel found it possi
ble to speak about that covenantal decision concerning God. T he
decision is a crucial political as well as linguistic one. It requires a
reexam ination o f what has been treated conventionally (to identify
masculinity with the freedom of God) and what has been treated
polemically (to identify the captive god with femininity).
IV
The problem o f affirm ing the asexuality o f Yahweh and speaking of
Yahweh in masculine term s suggests two things concerning the re
cen t developm ent o f scholarship. First, it is clear that “againstness”
cannot be so simply sustained. Purity from cultural contam ination
an d syncretistic use of cultural forms involves a dialectical process.
Thus the use o f asexuality as a way o f understanding Yahweh is im
p o rtan t in term s of radical covenantal faith. But at the same time,
it is clear that Israel’s texts sometimes used fem inine language and
th at at o ther times masculine language is used in protest against
C anaanite religion. Thus the fa ith /cu ltu re issues th at lie beh in d the
language are complex, an d we m ust avoid reductionism on the basis
o f a single herm eneutical decision. Clearly a covenantal understand
ing requires personal language, b u t it is precisely personal language
th at poses the problem .
Second, the projected interpretative program of M endenhall and
Gottwald suggests that the issues o f distinctiveness and againstness in
the future will increasingly be expressed and understood in term s of
sociological issues. T hat is, what Israel has to say about God will be
m ore intentionally presented in term s o f com peting social visions.
W right h ad no t been unaware o f these matters, bu t the stress o f his
work is upon mytho-religious rath er than sociopolitical questions.
W hat is at issue, then, is n o t the sexuality o f God bu t the way in
which different gods are understood to sanction different social visions.
In th at context and as a facet o f the general problem , we may
reconsider the them e o f “God as F ather” as it is used in Israel. From
what we have thus far concluded, we may anticipate that the use o f
this language is an attem pt to speak o f Yahweh in term s th at ex
press freedom from, sovereignty over, and yet involvem ent with both
natural and historical processes.
W right had concluded th at the O ld Testam ent characteristically
Ixrurl's Social Criticism and Yahweh’s Sexuality 163
prefer» royal, political categories for Yahweh and tends to avoid the
term inology o f fatherhood because that language would m ore easily
Ik· in terp reted in terms o f sexuality, links to the fertility process, and
syncretism in general.32 However, newer evidence an d shifting nu-
anrcs o f the hermeneutical discussion perm it a fresh consideration
of the data. W right had concluded that in the process o f syncretism,
"the ‘fa th erh o o d ’ o f a God m ust have been conceived as m ore o f
a physical than a personal an d ethical relationship.”33 W right’s con
sum ing attention to the problem o f syncretism apparently led him to
read the imagery in only one way. However, it is likely th at ‘Yahweh
as F ather” can be read as well in terms o f political-covenantal rela
tions as in term s o f physical-sexual relations. Thus it seems probable
that W right’s conclusion is dictated as m uch by his herm eneutical
program as by th e evidence. In moving beyond W right’s strictures,
the discussion concerns n o t simply the interpretation o r rein terp re
tation o f any particular text, b u t reconsideration o f againstness as
the single hermeneutical concern that controls interpretation.
M ore recen t studies by Dennis McCarthy and F. Charles Fen-
sham ,34 anticipated by Jo h n L. McKenzie,35 suggest th at the term
“father” n eed n o t be consigned to fertility imagery, as W right had
presum ed even as Wright him self later questioned.36 In many cases,
the language can as well be interpreted in terms of the imagery of
treaty-covenant, th at is, in term s o f sociopolitical reality. Thus the
im age n eed n o t suggest physical begetting or sexual continuity b u t
may speak o f a transcendent freedom standing over against a so
cial reality, over against bo th in term s of criticism and in term s of
life-giving involvement. Said an o th er way, language that in some con
texts surely has sexual im plications can also be utilized to speak of
a covenantal relationship. This is no t to suggest that every trace of
sexual co n n otation is purged, for that is no t the way in which lin
32. G. Ernest Wright, “The Terminology of Old Testament Religion and Its Sig
nificance,” JNES 1 (1942): 404-14; idem, “How Did Early Israel Differ from Its
Neighbors?” BA 6 (1943): 1-20.
33. Wright, “Terminology,” 411.
34. Dennis McCarthy, “Notes on the Love of God in Deuteronomy and the Father-
Son Relationship between Yahweh and Israel,” CBQ 72 (1965): 144-47; F. Charles
Fensham, “Father and Son as Terminology for Treaty and Covenant,” in Near Eastern
Studies in Honor of William Foxwell Albright, ed. Hans Goedicke (Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins Univ. Press, 1971), 121-35.
35. Jo h n L. McKenzie, “The Divine Sonship of Israel and the Covenant,” CBQ 8
(1946): 320-31.
36. Wright, The Old Testament and Theology, 117-18.
guistic images function. Rather, even the sexual connotation may be

co-opted for covenantal use and therefore radically redefined.
In Jerem iah, for example, father imagery is used boldly in
covenantal ways. No p ro p h et is m ore attentive to the dangers o f syn
cretism with fertility practice. N or is there any p rophet who m ore
boldly utilizes the imagery. N or is any p ro p h e t m ore singularly com
m itted to covenantal categories of discernm ent. Thus, h e does n o t
flinch from speaking in th at language:
I thought how I would set you among my sons,

and give you a pleasant land,
a heritage most beauteous of all nations,
and I thought you would call me, My Father,
and would not turn from following me.
Return, O faithless sons,
I will heal your faithlessness. (Jer. 3:19)37
Clearly, th e term “F ather” is used for covenantal purposes, and

th ere is h ere nothing of the Canaanite connotations, either of phys
ical begetting o r of m anipulation. This is n o t to suggest th at the
term s “evolved” from n ature to history. Rather, it is to insist th at
these words, all words, m ust be understood in the context o f their
historical usage according to the fundam ental presuppositions of
the com m unity using them . Paul R icoeur observes the change and
evolution o f the image:
Thus the evolution of the father figure toward a superior symbol

ism is dependent on other symbols, which do not belong to the
sphere of kinship: the liberator of the Hebraic primitive “saga,” the
lawgiver of Sinai, the bearer of the Name without image, and even
the Creator o f the Creation myth, none of which has anything to
do with kinship. We could even say, in a way that is scarcely para
doxical, that Yahweh is not primarily father; on this condition, he is
also father.. . . By the same stroke, fatherhood itself is entirely dissoci
ated from begetting___[I]t is because there is Covenant that there is
fatherhood.*8
37. See Walter Brueggemann, “Israel’s Sense o f Place in Jerem iah,” in Rhetorical
Crilicijm, ed. Jared J. Jackson and Martin Kessler (Pittsburgh; Pickwick, 1974), 156-
58.
S8. Paul Ricoeur, The Conflict of Interpretations (Evanston, 111.; Northwestern Univ.
I’rcu , 1975), 486-91.
h n u l's Social Criticism an d Yahweh’s Sexuality 165
Thus Jeremiah, for exam ple, is n o t interested in speaking either

ol the masculinity of G od or o f the asexuality of God, for which
hr presum ably has no words. Rather, he is interested in asserting
a particular nuance o f the covenantal understanding o f God, which
I* fundamental to everything he had to say to his contem poraries
who had fallen into dangerously noncovenantal perceptions o f re
ality. The interface betw een covenantal reality (which surely governs
these texts) an d a broad range of images (including sexual imagery)
is much m ore subtle a n d delicate than a simple “againstness” m ight
suggest. T he problem , o f course, is that the issue cannot be decided
on the basis o f exegeting individual texts, bu t only by facing the
presuppositions lying beh in d the texts and behind the interpreter.
The tradition o f W right worked with a presupposition o f against
ness as it addressed particular texts. An alternative is th at the texts
make a m uch m ore dialectical assum ption about the use o f this lan
guage a n d every language to advance a covenantal discernm ent of
reality. T h e interpretative problem concerns the overriding claim of
covenant in relationship to the freedom and play o f every linguistic
image.
Thus it seems likely th at W right has discerned the key issues that
we m ust continue to face. H e has seen that there is real distinction
between the perceptual world of Israel and its environm ent, an d he has
also seen th at language m ust be used carefully to m aintain an d appre
ciate th at distinction. B ut h e has also contributed to the confusion
because h e has w anted to affirm discontinuity in o rd er to m aintain
the freedom o f God an d has done so by affirming the asexuality of
God. T h at suggestion is very difficult to m aintain (1) textually, be
cause th e Bible itself does n o t consistendy employ such a practice
or safeguard, an d (2) theologically, because nothing, even sexuality,
can be excluded from a covenantal understanding and the images
used to express it. W hat is im portant to our use of such language is
to recognize that biblical faith requires a radically different understand
ing o f all o f reality an d therefore o f language. This surely m eans a new
und erstan d in g o f justice, power, and law. It m eans a new u nderstand
ing o f h u m an personality. And no less m ust it m ean a radically new
u nderstanding o f sexuality in covenantal terms. In speaking o f God,
the biblical text intends to use a wide range of images, m ost o f them
dealing with hum an, historical interactions that give life and death,
discern endings in pain, a n d announce beginnings in expectation.
In utilizing this range o f images, the Bible surely does n o t screen out
the images derived from a n d inform ed by sexuality because they are
images th at serve to articulate the new historical, covenantal reality

th at gives Israel identity and hope.
Covenanting consists no t in w ithholding self for detached free
dom and sovereignty (as asexuality m ight suggest) bu t in the free
disclosure o f self and the full com m itm ent and giving o f self. The
distinctive affirm ation o f Yahweh is that he is fully with his people,
com m itted to them in ways that bind him to them an d perm it his
life to be im pacted by them .39 His sovereignty is a com m itted sov
ereignty. W hat better way to articulate this entry into the history of
the p a rtn e r than to use relational-sexual imagery to express the suf
fering, pain, hurt, joy, an d caring that belong to his distinctive kind
o f sovereignty? H e is n o t only the holy one, b u t “the holy one in
your m idst.”40 W alther Eichrodt shows that Hosea boldly used dan
gerous syncretistic language to articulate his radical discernm ent of
Yahweh’s power and sovereignty: “H e does no t shrink back from the
dangerous proxim ity to the erotic divine love o f the Baal cult b u t des
ignates the irrational power o f love, which determ ines the lover in
all his expressions and drives un to com plete surrender, as the power
o f God revealed in Israel’s election.”41 T he poets o f Israel m ust use
every possible linguistic image to articulate that novum. This novum
is a radical one in the history o f oppressive society and in the his
tory o f contained religion. Its articulation requires a bold, radical
linguistic act.
This radical linguistic act requires that every image and every
m etap h o r m ust be transform ed by the confessional in ten t o f the
community. And since asexual language is problem atic, it requires
the transform ation of both m asculine and fem inine imagery. Thus
th e transform ation of the language is practiced as the way to deal
with the problem o f covenantal purity and syncretism. This alter
native is selected rather than (1) choosing masculine images over
fem inine images, o r (2) opting for using asexual language, which
th e Bible presumably cannot do. This decision on the part o f the
Bible ab out linguistic images raises im portant criticism about the
posture o f againstness that has dom inated the scene. T hat criticism
is im p o rtan t at two points. First, the againstness o f Israelite Yahwism
an d C anaanite fertility religion has in m uch contem porary practice
39. J. Gerald Janzen, “Metaphor and Reality in Hosea 11,” in SBLSP, ed. George
MacRae (Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1976), 413-45; Jurgen Moltmann, The
Crucified God (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975), 69-84.
40. Walther Eichrodt, “The Holy One in Your Midst,” Int 15 (1961): 259-73.
41. Ibid., 263-64.
l>r<omc that o f the m asculinity o f Yahweh versus the fem ininity of

( lunaanite deities. T he herm eneutic o f againstness that begins in a
«lain) for the asexuality o f Yahweh has becom e in fact and in prac-
lioc an affirm ation o f the masculinity of God. Thus, the “mighty
act* of God in history” as a theological program depends on a ro
bust, virile God who can intrude to change things. T he in ten t o f
the protest is b etter than the practice, which frequently becom es
a well-intentioned defense o f the masculinity of Yahweh against the
“terrible” fem inine deities o f Canaan.
Second, such a transition from the asexuality to the masculinity
of God appears to be prem ised on unexam ined notions of fem i
ninity that are treated negatively, assigned to Canaanite categories,
and predictably rejected. Perhaps this suggests an inclination to
assign “g o o d ” qualities to masculinity (for example, ethical, free,
initiative-taking, saving) an d “b ad ” qualities to femininity (for ex
ample, unethical, controlling, m anipulating). These presuppositions
likely are very d eep in the consciousness o f o u r culture an d perhaps
also in th e consciousness o f ancient Israel, though that is less certain.
The evidence is clear that C anaanite fertility religion included no t
only fertility goddesses bu t also fertility gods, and all partake in those
qualities th at are objectionable to covenantal faith. Conversely, it is
likely th at Israel fo u n d occasion to speak o f Yahweh, the covenanting
God, in images b oth m asculine an d fem inine. Thus, we are required
to affirm the singular covenantal focus o f biblical faith and also the
freedom in h e re n t in images that serve various nuances to th at fo
cus. Unfortunately, in recen t discussion, partisans insist on holding
either to the single focus o r to the variant images to the neglect o f
the other.
V
C oncerning the discussion th at has been derived from the work of
Albright a n d Wright, this conclusion may be drawn: the program o f
againstness is n o t really interested in the issue o f sexuality o r sexu
ality o f G od as such. Rather, the interest is the contrast between a
covenantal view o f reality an d a noncovenantal or anticovenantal view
of reality, each o f which depends upon a notion of God and each of
which contains a derivative social vision. O n that basis an d for the fu
ture o f th e discussion, these hypotheses may be offered to refocus
the discussion aro u n d issues that are decisive for biblical theology:
1. W hat is at issue in Israel’s polemical and confessional discern

m en t of God does no t concern sexuality or asexuality. T h at concern
is an intrusion o f m odern scholarship concerning ways o f speaking
ab out (a) Canaanite religion and (b) evolutionary developm ental
approaches to religion. Since Israel did not flinch from bold im-
agery likening Yahweh to hum an persons, it is no t to be presum ed
that even this dim ension o f imagery is by definition problem atic.
T he texts characteristically are conccrned for Yahweh’s fickleness
and faithfulness and not sexuality as such.
2. W hat is at issue for Israel’s discernm ent o f God is not mas
culinity. Baal is also masculine. Indeed if there is a fertility process
in C anaanite religion, it obviously involved both masculine and fem
inine. Those who insist upon the masculinity of Yahweh as a way of
avoiding the tem ptation o f fertility religion m isunderstand the role
of th e gods in the Canaanite religion. This W right had clearly seen
as h e resists even the masculinity of Yahweh. Masculinity is as m uch
in question as femininity and cannot be used to express Yahweh’s
distinctiveness. Yahweh’s contrast with Baal does no t concern mas
culinity b u t covenantal faithfulness. Nowhere is this m ore evident
than in Hos. 2:16-20 (Eng.), in which Yahweh is ‘is and no t ba'al. T he
use o f m asculine imagery is clear, bu t it is no t the point either to be
affirm ed o r to be denied. T he point is the fidelity expressed in verses
19-20, which is contrasted with the fickleness o f Baal in the preceding
poetry. In Hos. 11:8-9, the assertion is m ade that Yahweh is God and
n o t m an, b u t no case can be m ade that this is a denial o f sexual
ity. Rather, it is a denial o f the kind o f vengeance that takes form as
quid p ro quo. Hans Walter Wolff, in com m enting on H osea 2, rightly
suggests th at the b a a lfis contrast concerns a deep personal relation
in contrast to a legal position as owner.42 The contrast suggests an
im p o rtan t transform ation o f masculinity.
3. W hat is at issue for Israel’s discernm ent o f God is n eith er mas
culinity n o r asexuality b u t covenantal faithfulness. Israel’s confession
concerns Yahweh’s capacity to e n ter into abiding an d en d u rin g re
lations in which Yahweh’s free sovereignty is characteristically risked
b u t reaffirm ed and in which new life is created and new history m ade
possible.43
4. Covenantal faithfulness as the distinctive m ark o f Yahweh per
mits itself to be expressed in a variety o f images an d in m any
42. Hans Walter Wolff, Hosea, Hermeneia (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1974), 49-50,
4S. Karl Barth, The Humanity of God (Richmond: John Knox, 1960), 45-65.
different relationships. These images and relationships are borrow ed

from various places and carry various nuances. B ut each such im age
is a vehicle to m anifest Yahweh’s faithfulness. So far as can be de
term ined, no im age or relationship is ruled out as a legitimately
possible form o f expression for Israel’s covenantal im agination.
5. C ovenantal faithfulness is the central intention of those texts
in which Yahweh is presented as masculine. T he texts intend n eith er
to affirm n o r to deny Yahweh’s masculinity bu t to articulate pecu
liar faithfulness. B ut the m asculine imagery is no t neutral. It shapes
the disclosure an d defines the character o f faithfulness in a specific
way, for exam ple, as effective w arrior (Exod. 15:1-3) o r as faithful
lover (Hos. 2:16). T he stress is on fidelity, b u t the image presents it
as masculine fidelity.
6. C ovenantal faithfulness can be expressed in fem inine terms.
W here th a t is so, the central intention is covenantal faithfulness. The
text m eans n eith er to affirm n o r to deny femininity b u t to articulate
this peculiar form o f faithfulness (for example, Num. 11:11-12). But
the fem inine im agery is n o t neutral. It shapes the disclosure an d de
fines th e character o f faithfulness in a specific way. The stress is on
fidelity, b u t the im age presents it as feminine fidelity.
7. We are req u ired to be m ore sensitive to the m utual influ
ences flowing between (a) the central affirm ation o f covenantal
faithfulness and (b) the rich imagery used in various contexts. Cer
tainly covenantal faithfulness redefines and characterizes in fresh
ways every im age used, including m asculine and fem inine images.
T hus covenantal m asculinity is different from masculinity outside of
covenant. A nd covenantal fem ininity is different from fem ininity out
side o f covenant. T he prop o n en ts o f “againstness” have seen that
clearly. B ut it is also true that each image has a voice o f its own
that is n o t silent an d n o t lost when used in covenantal ways. Each
concrete im age shapes covenantal faithfulness for th at m om ent in a
peculiar an d intentional way. The richness and variety o f images sug
gest th at the central them e o f fidelity can be tu rn ed in a myriad of
ways to articulate its many-sidedness. Trible concludes, “Israel knows
the inadequacy o f all analogies__ [T ]hat is reason enough for Is
rael to have a rich variety, for there are always fresh dim ensions to
covenanting yet to be articulated.”44 Sallie TeSelle has written m ore
broadly on the question o f the delicate, reciprocal relation between
44. Trible, “God,” 369.

image and “truth.”45 She illum inates h er point with a consideration

of the use o f “father” to speak of Clod. T hat sensitivity and freedom
with im age m ight illum inate the substantive discussion of our them e.
VI
T here is no do u b t that Israel preferred masculine imagery for God,
and th at m ust be recognized and fared. It may well be that such
language was used as the norm ative language for the very reasons
W right suggested. But m ore recent understandings of the m eaning
o f “fath er” in covenantal contexts make that questionable. O ur cur
re n t tasks (which move beyond simple “againstness") are (1) to be
m ore sensitive to bold and inventive hints of fem inine imagery in
ancient Israel that utilize telling and poignant images to express Yah
w eh’s person, and (2) to work m ore intentionally at delineating the
fem inine form s of covenantal faithfulness.
P. A. H. de Boer has addressed the them e of the m othering func
tion in the faith o f Israel.46 He suggests that there are hints o f the
m o therhood o f God in the Old Testam ent that either have b een
missed by later interpreters o r have been screened out by subsequent
editors. Am ong the texts h e notes are:
1. N um bers 11:12, in which Moses denies he is m other of Israel,
with the clear im plication th at Yahweh m othered Israel.
2. D euteronom y 32:11-12, the analogy o f an eager m other p ro
tecting the young. In his com m ent, de Boer asserts that “in times of
disaster the Lord appears to be, in m ore than an ethical sense, a fa
th er and a m other for his believers__ T here exist, in my opinion,
en ough indications that ancient Israel and Ju d ah have w orshipped
m otherly aspects o f their G od.”47
3. Exodus 19:4, the carrying o f small children as a m otherly task.
4. D euteronom y 32:18, “the Rock that bore you.”
5. T he “we” sections o f Genesis 1, which suggest that “father and
m o th er guarantee life and existence.”48 T he interpretation o f Karl
B arth is worth noting:
45. Sallie TeSelle, Speaking in Parables (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975), 44—48.

46. P. A. H. de Boer, Fatherhood and Motherhood in Israelite and Judean Piety (Leiden:
Brill, 1974).
47. Ibid., 36-37.
Humanity which is not fellow-humanity is inhumanity. For it cannot

reflect but only contradict the determination of man to be God’s cov
enant partner, nor can the God who is no deus solitaries but Dens
triunus, God in relation, be mirrored in a homo solitarius___By the di
vine likeness of man in Gen l:27f., there is understood the fact that
God created them male and female, corresponding to the fact that
God himself exists in relationship and not in isolation.49
It is n o t possible h ere to explore fully such hints of G od’s fem

ininity th a t m ight be identified. B ut the list of p ertin e n t texts can
be expanded. In the exilic poetry o f Second Isaiah, all of Israel’s
traditional them es converge. H ere creation and redem ption them es
are b ro u g h t to g eth er in an effort to speak about the radically new.50
Certainly in Second Isaiah, salvation and blessing them es are used
in rich com bination. M ight it also be th at here fem inine/m asculine
images fo r God com e to share expression in Second Isaiah precisely
for the sam e reason? We may note only two considerations. In Isa.
40:1-11, the p o et offers a picture o f Yahweh bringing his people
back to Zion. T he location of this text in the divine council, as
indicated by Frank M. Cross, is not affected by the following com
m ents on verses 10-11; what concerns us here is the assignm ent of
the functions o f the council to Yahweh in those verses— th at is, Yah
weh acts th e p art o f the gods who m ight have been m asculine and
fem inine.51 In term s o f a God fulfilling both functions, H elm er Ring-
gren refers to an Akkadian text in which M arduk is spoken o f as
m o th er an d father.52 It is n o t impossible that Yahweh, a rival to Mar
duk in the Babylonian period, is assigned those roles as well, as in
o u r text. R. N orm an Whybray has shown how all o f the functions o f
M arduk a n d his council are taken singularly by Yahweh.53 Verse 10
presents G od in his conquering power, surely masculine. Verse 11,
in an a b ru p t change o f m ood, speaks of nourishing tenderness:
Behold the Lord God conies with might,

and his arm rules for him;
49. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics (Edinburgh; T. and T. Clark, 1961), 3/4:117ff.
50. Carroll Stuhlmueller, Creative Redemption in Deutero-Isaiah, AnBib 43 (Rome:
Biblical Institute Press, 1970); Rolf Rcndtorff, “Die theologische Stellung des
Schopfungsglaubens bei Deuterojesaja,” ZTK 51 (1954): 3-13.
51. Frank M. Cross, “The Council of Yahweh in Second Isaiah,” JNES 12 (1953):
274-77.
52. H elm er Ringgren, “ ’ab,” in TWAT, vol. 1 (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1970).
53. R. Norman Whybray, The Heavenly Counsellor in Isaiah xl 13-14 (Cambridge:
Cambridge Univ. Press, 1971).
1 72 Λ Soc ial Heading o f the Old Testament
behold, his reward is with him,

and his recompense l>r(<ur him.
He will feed his Hoek like .1 shepherd,
he will gather the lambs in his arm*,
he will carry them in his bosom.
and gently lead (hose that .tie with young.
To be sure, Yahweh is still “he·." Hut the verst- may well speak
of fem inine qualities, of Yahweh's m othering tenderness, so that
verses 10-11 together give expression to the ab u ndant fidelity of
Yahweh w ho is powerfully taking initiative and gently bearing an d
feeding. Thus verses 10-11 show two very different dim ensions o f cov
enantal faithfulness—one aggressive leadership, the o th er protective
nourishing.
In Isa. 49:14-15, the poet contrasts Yahweh with a forgetting
woman:
But Zion said, “The Lord has forsaken me,

my Lord has forgotten m e.”
“Can a woman forget her suckling child,
that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb?”
Even these may forget,
yet I will not forget you.54
T here is, o f course, nothing here requiring femininity. But it is

clear th at the imagery does n o t flinch from setting Yahweh in such
a context. If such a nuance is indeed here, then it may be asked
if fem inine imagery for Yahweh is particularly appropriate for times
o f exile, as refuge in tim e o f distress (cf. Matt. 23:37). In th at con
nection, Ps. 27:10 affirms: “W hen my father and my m other have
forsaken m e, Yahweh will take me u p .” Again the nuance m ust not
be pressed, b u t clearly God is surrogate for both parents.
From these considerations, the following two conclusions may
be drawn: (1) C urrent issues o f sexist language in relation to God
m ust be distinguished from the distinctions between Israelite cov
en a n t faith and Canaanite religion. (2) T he Old Testam ent prefers
m asculine language for God, bu t it apparently was no sufficient way
to speak o f the faithfulness o f God. Moreover, the Bible is able to
experim ent with fem inine images o f faithfulness th at it does n o t re
gard as necessarily dangerous o r syncretistic. W hen these m atters are
54. Cf. Claus Westermann, Isaiah 40-66, OTL (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1969),
219; and Barth, Church Dogmatics, 3/4'.245-46.
Israel’s Social Criticism and Yahweh’s Sexuality 173
sorted out, it is clear that n o simple equation can be m ade between

a m asculine God an d Israel’s covenant faith and between a fem inine
God an d C anaanite religion. Rather, the Bible strains to use every
possible im age to speak o f G od’s peculiar fidelity. The use o f new
imagery is always possible, as is especially evident in the crises of
Hosea a n d Second Isaiah, in which new situations require bold new
linguistic acts. C onsiderable freedom is granted in this exploration
if the above considerations are correct. T hat freedom is b o u n d ed
by these affirmations: (1) A wide variety o f images is usable because
every im age is transform ed by the decisiveness o f covenantal faithful
ness. (2) Covenantal faithfulness is an experience to Israel o f such
richness a n d power th at no im age will express all th at m ust be artic
ulated. T h e substance o f faith outdistances all images that m ight be
used, an d so the confession o f Yahweh is no t fully captured by any
of them . (3) W hile every im age is transform ed, every im age also re
tains som ething o f its own character and thus brings to covenantal
faithfulness a peculiar quality and dim ension. T he process o f tradi-
tioning in th e Bible itself suggests that fresh imagery is im portant in
speaking o f the G od o f Israel. It is the process of continually speak
ing faithfully o f this God, ra th e r than defense o f a closed stock of
images, th at best inform s o u r present work. Only in the freedom o f
faithful speaking can the process o f social criticism by bold image
continue. W ithout the freedom o f such faithful speaking, contained
religion an d oppressive social vision are inevitable. Thus scholar
ship co n cern ed with radical social criticism inform ed by covenant
(M endenhall, Gottwald) needs to be m ore attentive to the freedom
o f images a n d m ore aware th at the various images, in their great
variety, do in d eed tu rn the central paradigm in various directions.
Conversely, scholarship concerned with the m eaning o f language
an d m etap h o r (TeSelle) needs to be m ore attentive to the faith
th at transform s every m etaphor and every language in the service
of the central paradigm . C ovenanting is different when presented
in m asculine o r fem inine term s. But masculine and fem inine are
also radically transform ed w hen presented according to a covenantal
u nderstanding. Thus, the m etaphor of sexuality can be understood
in term s o f th e social criticism that properly belongs to Israel’s vision
o f reality.
9___________________
Theodicy in a Social Dimension
T h e ISSUE o f theodicy in current theological discussion is

articulated in three distinct bu t no t unrelated conversations:
1. T he m ost obvious a n d popular is the pastoral question: Why
did this happen to me? T hat is, the question is focused on a negative
experience of a person who seems not to deserve such treatm ent.
This question is effectively posed in the popular book by Rabbi
H arold Kushner, When Bad Things Happen to Good P e o p le T he per
vasiveness o f the issue is evident in the popularity o f the book, even
though its argum ent seems rom antic and scarcely adequate.8
2. In O ld Testam ent studies, theodicy is conventionally related to
the crisis o f 587 b .c .e . and the em ergence o f the relatively miserable
situation of exilic an d postexilic com m unities.3 It is a situation in
which the older historic traditions o f confession are found wanting.
O n the one hand, it is conventionally thought that the question is
posed in an early form of H abakkuk,4 in Jerem iah, and in Job. O n
1. Harold Kushner, When Bad Things Happen to Good People (New York: Schocken,
1981).
2. A more solid, reflective discussion is offered by W. Sibley Towner, How
God Deals with Evil (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1976). However, this book has not
captured popular imagination as has Kushner's.
3. O n the literature related to these issues in that context, see Peter Ackroyd,
Exile and Restoration (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1968); and Ralph W. Klein, Israel in
Exile (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979).
4. See the pastoral discussion of Donald E. Gowan, The Triumph of Faith in
Habakkuk (Atlanta. John Knox, 1976).
174
Theodicy in a Social Dimension 175
the o th er hand, it has b een proposed th at wisdom, apocalyptic, and

creation faith are responses to the issue, when the historical tradi
tions are inadequate. In particular, Jam es Crenshaw has contributed
to this conversation in m ost helpful ways.5
3. T h e reality o f the H olocaust has focused the question of G od’s
justice in inescapable ways a n d has m uted old answers.6 In some
ways, the H olocaust is an echo o f the dilem m a o f Job. But R ichard
R ubenstein7 an d others have shown th at the H olocaust is o f such
un u tterab le m agnitude a n d irrationality that it violates any parallel
with th e old tradition. In d eed it is such a unique happening am ong
us that it m ust be bracketed out provisionally from m ost discussions.
Such a bracketing is n o t to dismiss the issue b u t to avoid trivializing
it with frivolous com parisons.
I
These th ree ways o f putting the question are all im portant, and
n o n e can be taken lightly. T he following discussion, however, at
tem pts to press the issue in a different direction. The notion o f
theodicy, o f course, com bines the issues of God ( theos) an d justice
(dike). However, the theodic questions are largely treated as specu
lative questions ab out the character and person o f God, so th at the
justice issue is too m uch shaped in religious categories.8 In fact ju s
tice is a social question ab o u t social power and social access, about
agreed-upon systems a n d practices o f social production, distribution,
possession, an d consum ption. Scholarship has taken a largely idealis
tic view o f the issue, which likely reflects the social location of those
in the conversation.9
5. James L. Crenshaw, A Whirlpool of Torment (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984); idem,

Theodicy in the Old Testament (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1983); idem, “Popular Ques
tioning o f God in Ancient Israel,” ZAW 82 (1970): 380-95; idem, “The Problem of
Theodicy in Sirach "JBL 94 (1975): 47-64.
6. Emil Fackenheim (To Mend the World [New York: Schocken, 1982]) has pro
vided an excellent statem ent on the implications of the Holocaust for both Jewish
and Christian faith. O f course, the various writings of Elie Wiesel have provided the
most helpful and most disturbing commentary. On his work, see the introduction
by Robert McAfee Brown, Elie Wiesel: Messenger to All Humanity (Notre Dame, Ind.:
Univ. of Notre Dame Press, 1983).
7. Richard Rubenstein, After Auschwitz (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1966).
8. O n the question handled in more speculative, philosophical fashion, see John
Hick, Evil and the Love of God (New York: H arper and Row, 1966).
9. I am using “idealistic” here in the sense criticized by Norman Gottwald, The
Tribes of Yahweh (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1979), 592-607.
H ere I shall argue instead th at the subject o f God-justice (that is,

theodicy) requires a “materialist” reading o f text and experience,10
for Yahweh functions and is discerned either through a practice o f
social consensus o r through a challenge to a social consensus still held
b u t u n d e r assault. The justice o f God cannot be separated from the
actual experience of justice in the social process because Yahweh’s
presence in Israel is known through and against the social process.
It is o dd that scholarly characterization of justice, and therefore
o f theodicy, in the O ld Testam ent is bifurcated. In the eighth-century
prophets, for example, justice surely has to do with social practice in
which Yahweh is understood to have a crucial concern.11 We have
enough critical data to know that in the strictures o f the prophets,
the advocacy o f justice concerns both the social systems and the God
confessed th rough the practice of the social system.12 T hat is hardly
in d o u b t b oth in the text and in o u r usual interpretations. T he ju s
tice questions in the eighth-century prophets clearly concern social
goods, social power, social access, and the way those are configured
in society.
In contrast to the eighth-century prophets, o u r conventional
h andling o f Jo b (and similar materials) tends to disregard those
understandings o f justice an d remove the justice question from the
arena of social processes to the reified air of theological speculation.
Such an interpretative move tends to make theodicy an odd or pecu
10. It should be clear that “materialist” here does not require Marxist categories
but requires taking into account the material basis and the historical context o f
real social life. The use of the word “m ateriar is not remote from conventional
use o f the word “history” in Old Testament scholarship, as in the phrase “God
acts in history,” as long as “history” is understood as the actual social processes of
communal interaction that include the process o f organization and technology as
much as ideology and mythology. On a materialist reading, see Kuno Fussel, “The
Materialist Reading of the Bible,” in The Bible and Liberation, ed. Norman Gottwald
(Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1983), 134-46; Walter J. Hollenweger, “The O ther Exegesis,”
H BT 3 (1981); 155-79; and the essays in God of the Lowly, ed. Willy Schottroff and
Wolfgang Stegemann (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1984).
11. See the fine article by James L. Mays, “Justice,” Int 37 (1983): 5-17. For
justice in relation to social processes, see Bernhard Lang, “The Social Organization
of Poverty in Biblical Israel,” JSOT 24 (1982): 47-63, and Robert Coote, Amos among
the Prophets (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981), 24-45.
12. Gottwald ( Tribes of Yahweh) is most helpful in showing how Yahwism holds
together the agency of Yahweh and the social practice of the community. The two
are inseparable, even though many of us are more inclined than Gottwald to max
imize the theological rather than the sociological counterpart. On the interface of
Yahwism and social practice, see also Robert Wilson, Prophecy and Society in Ancient
Israel (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1980); and Paul D. Hanson, The Daum of Apocalyptic
liar question o f exilic and postexilic periods, whereas in fact theodicy

is a regularly functioning presupposition that perm eates every text
eith er as consensus o r as challenge. T hat is, theodicy may be p e
culiarly in crisis in the Jo b an literature, bu t it is n o t a new social
p h enom enon. T he entire literature of the O ld Testam ent, since the
exodus narrative, concerns the interface o f God and social justice.
This change o f o u r perception o f justice from a prophetic-social
issue (in the eighth century) to a speculative theological issue (in the
sixth century) results in a separation of the God-question from is
sues o f social reality, from the ways o f production an d distribution
o f social goods a n d social power. Such a separation is hinted at in
Jam es L. Crenshaw ’s conventional inventory o f theodic categories, in
which he lists th e dim ensions of theodicy as: “m oral evil, natural evil
an d religious evil.”13 In this chapter I want to urge that social evil is
a crucial, if n o t central, m atter for theodicy in the Old Testament.
Social evil concerns those arrangem ents o f social power an d social
process th at enable goods a n d access to be systematically legitim ated
by religious ideology th o u g h nonetheless unjust. It is an im portant
fact of th e sociology of o u r scholarship that the enorm ous con
cern o f Israel fo r social pow er and social goods is characteristically
bracketed o u t when we com e to the question o f theodicy.
It may be argued th at a focus on social evil is n o t ontologically
serious. B ut such an argum ent only presses us to a m ore basic con
versation about God and G od’s enm eshm ent in the social processes.
I propose then th at social evil (by which I m ean unjust pow er ar
rangem ents in society for which God is claimed as the legitim ator
an d guarantor) is at the center o f Israel’s reflective thought. This
way o f u n d erstan d in g theodicy is an overriding concern for m arginal
people whose daily task o f survival does not perm it the luxury of
m ore speculative questions. From “the edge,”14 the justice o r injus
tice o f God is en co u n tered in the way social process enhances or
13. James L. Crenshaw, introduction to Theodicy in the Old Testament (Philadelphia:

Fortress, 1983), 2. Rainer Albertz (“Der sozialgeschichtliche H intergrund des Hiob-
buches und der ‘Babylonischen T heodizee,'” in Die Botschaft und die Boten, ed. Jorg
Jeremias and Lothar Perlitt [Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1981], 349-
72) has m ade a formidable argum ent that the question of theodicy in the poem of
Job represents a social crisis in the Persian period that endangers the conventional
class structure. The parallels he draws to Nehemiah 5 may be too specific, but his
point is congruent with this essay.
14. See Mary Douglas and Aaron Wildavsky, Bisk and Culture (Los Angeles: Univ.
of California Press, 1982), chaps. 5-8, on “center” and “border.” Their use of
“border” may include social marginality.
denies life, and the justice or injustice of G od is n o t otherwise ex

perienced. Thus the issue o f theodicy for Israel is n o t an interesting
speculative question but is a practice o f social criticism o f social sys
tems th at do or do no t work hum anely and of the gods who sponsor t,
and guarantee systems that are o r are no t just. A god is known by the
system it sanctions. Theodicy becomes in fact an irrelevant specula
tive issue if the God-question is not linked to systems of social access
an d goods.
II
I propose that we begin a fresh discernm ent of theodicy by notic
ing how th e concept is used in social analysis, particularly by those
who are n o t interested in the God-question as such. H ere I cite the
contributions o f three scholars whose views arc representative in the
field.
1. P eter Berger offers a typology of thcodicies that runs a con
tinuum o f rationality-irrationality.15 His articulation of the theodic
problem includes a reference to a religious dim ension, b u t he makes
it clear th at theodicy of any type is nonetheless a social agreem ent
ab out how to handle the “anom ic experience” of com m unal life,
th at is, how to justify, order, and understand meaningfully the ex
periences o f actual disorder. To som e extent theodicy, then, exists to
rationalize and make things palatable. Berger suggests that a theod
icy may be a “collusion, on the level o f m eaning, between oppressors
and victims.”16 Such an agreem ent (characteristically n o t explicit)
may be a theodicy of suffering for one group and a theodicy o f hap
piness for the other.17 Following Emile Durkheim , Berger regards
the transcendent dim ension o f theodicy as central. T hat is, a con
cern fo r justice requires relation to divine symbolization. But it is
clear th at the transcendent serves to legitim ate social power, goods,
and access in a certain configuration. T he function of God is to
establish a kind o f givenness about a particular arrangem ent an d
to invest it with a quality of acceptability and legitimacy, if n o t ju s
tice. Examples m ight be the tacit agreem ent o f society that blacks
have custodial jobs, that wom en receive less incom e than m en for
15. Peter L. Berger, The Sacred Canopy (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1967), 53-
80.
16. Ibid., 59.
17. Ibid.
com parable work. These are deeply legitim ated practices in o u r so
ciety, n o t m uch challenged until recently. Such socially accepted
inequities presum e the operation of a theodicy long before the crisis
o f oppression an d the yearning for equity becom e a public act.
2. R obert M erton takes up the same question in less direct and
m ore technical language w ithout a prim ary religious reference.18 He
offers a sociological analysis o f nomos,19 th at is, the norm s by w hich a
society m aintains itself an d sets criteria for what is right and wrong,
good an d evil, w hat is to be rewarded and punished. Nomos thus
functions as a set o f criteria to govern social benefits an d settle
m ents.20 The positive benefits are for those who m eet the norms.
T hose benefits are m ade available in certain param eters: “T he range
of alternative behaviors perm itted by culture is severely lim ited.”21
Obviously, behavior th at is deviant from those norm s, th at violates
the reward system, is n o t rew arded and may be punished.22 T here
is no d o u b t th at the system o f benefits is in part inform ed by and
grows o u t o f th e ontological realities o f life. M erton, along with
Berger, concedes the legitim ating function o f ritual in this regard.
But M erton’s sociological realism is m ore critical than that of Berger
in arguing th at th e nomos is n o t a gift of heaven bu t is a contrivance
o f earth, which requires th at the theodic consensus be read criti
cally, as a decision about who will have access to social goods and
social power. T he extent to which nomos is a social contrivance is the
extent to which theodicy is an enquiry about social reality, social ben
efits, a n d social decisions about reward and punishm ent. Violation
o f nomos may be regarded as disobedience to God. It also threatens
social stability an d will n o t be tolerated extensively.
T he arg u m en t o f this essay, o n the ground o f M erton’s analysis,
is th at every theodic settlem ent (including its religious articulation)
is in som e sense the special pleading o f a vested interest. Indeed, it
cannot be otherwise because there are no statem ents about G od’s
justice th at are n o t filtered through a social reality and social voices
th at have a stake in such social reality. The point to be stressed is
th at m o re theoretical an d speculative treatm ents of theodicy have
18. Robert K. Merton, Social Theory and Social Structure (Glencoe, 111.: Free Press,
1957).
19. Ibid., 121-94. Cf. James L. Crenshaw, “The Problem o f Theodicy in Sirach:
On H um an Bondage,” in Theodicy in the Old Testament, 133-34.
20. Merton, Social Theory, 137-38.
21. Ibid., 134.
22. For a particular scriptural example, see Walter Brueggemann, “A Neglected
Sapiential Word Pair,” ZAW 89 (1977): 234-58.
acted as though the discussion can be conducted w ithout reference

to those life-realities. T here is no theodicy that appeals to divine
legitimacy th at is no t also an earthly arrangem ent to some extent
contrived to serve special interests. This p oint m ust be insisted on,
and, derivatively, scholarly consideration o f theodicy m ust recognize
the ways in which nomos is m ediated through such social reality and
social interest.
3. Most helpful for our purposes is the analysis o f Jo n Gunne-
m ann.23 Influenced by Max Weber, Peter Berger, an d Thom as Kuhn,
G unnem ann understands social revolution as a shift o f paradigm s
for theodicy, a different perception o f evil. Theodicy is a settlem ent
m ade in a society concerning how m uch evil and suffering is nec
essary, legitimate, and bearable. It concerns the relative assignm ent
o f suffering to different m em bers and groups in the community.
Theodicy is an agreem ent on the am ount of suffering to be b o rn e in
situations o f unequal power an d privilege in which some are happy
while others suffer. Theodicy as a crisis occurs when some—usually
the sufferers— no longer accept that reading o f evil, that assignm ent
of suffering, and insist that evil be perceived differently and suffering
be distributed differently. W hen evil is perceived in new ways, social
power m ust be distributed differently to redress the unacceptable
arrangem ents. T he odd reality is that a settlem ent may be long
standing an d only lately rejected, bu t the crisis is nonetheless acute
w hen the question is raised. Revolution, then, according to G unne
m ann, is n o t simply a seizure o f power b u t is a change in the rules
th rough which power and access are apportioned.
W hat is clear in the analyses o f Berger, M erton, and G unnem ann
is th at theodicy concerns real power in real social com m unities. Any
discussion o f theodicy that fails to consider this dim ension is likely
to be ideology in the worst sense of the word, th at is, a cover-up of
social reality. A catalogue o f dim ensions of theodicy th at includes
only the m oral, natural, and religious, and excludes the social, fails
to address the ways in which evil is no t a cosmic given b u t a social
contrivance. Interpretations o f Scripture that are idealistic, that is,
that read theology only in natural, m oral, and religious categories
w ithout reference to social, institutional reality, have missed the cru
cial point. They offer a theological exercise that is irrelevant to real
h u m an life, even if it is a great com fort to the benefactors o f present
23. Jon P. Gunnemann, The Moral Meaning of Revolution (New Haven: Yale Univ.
Press, 1979), 9-50.
disproportions. In the O ld Testament, the theodicy issue surfaces as

early as th e exodus event, which rejects the theodic settlem ent in the
Egyptian em pire and makes possible an alternative social arrange
m ent. Israel, in its norm ative tradition since the exodus, continues
to reflect precisely on the social dim ension of evil an d suffering.24
Moreover, Israel continues to believe that every theodic settlem ent is
a contrivance th at is o p en to change.28
Ill
T he insights o f social theory are no t unknown in the field o f O ld Tes
tam en t study. I n ote th ree studies that are well inform ed by attention
to social reality:
1. Klaus Koch26 has offered an im portant statem ent on theod
icy in his arg u m ent o f a deed-consequence system. T hat system
operates as a sphere o f destiny w ithout active intervention o f an
agent. U nfortunately, K och’s analysis does n o t pursue the socio
logical im plications o f his own insights. It is the case th at the
deed-consequence construct as a system of social rewards a n d p u n
ishm ents is n o t ordained in the cosmic ordering o f things b u t is a
social construction to m aintain certain disproportions, a fact Koch
does n o t take into account. It is when the system of advantage and
disadvantage is no longer regarded as legitim ate that a crisis in
theodicy occurs. Koch makes these statements:
24. At the heart of Israel’s credo tradition is not speculation but a cry against
unjust social power (cf. Exod. 2:23-25). It is that cry, which is at the center of Israel’s
discontent, that H erbert Schneidau (Sacred Discontent [Berkeley: Univ. o f California
Press, 1976]) properly calls “sacred.” O n the social power of “cry,” see the poignant
lines of Ernst Bloch, Atheism in Christianity (New York: H erder and Herder, 1972),
16-18. Bloch is concerned with a cry that is not heard, a conclusion Israel’s credo
does not accept.
25. For ancient Israel, all such injustice is open to change and must be addressed
to God, who is the guarantor b u t also the transformer of social order. T hat is why
the credo models shaped o u t o f such a change (the exodus) were wrought through
a cry to God. And that is why the credo as a paradigm of social possibility must
be taught to each new generation. Cf. Michael Fishbane, Text and Texture (New
York: Schocken, 1979), 79-83. The “core narrative” is a paradigm that must be in
each case related to historical specifics, but the paradigm itself insists that social
arrangements can be changed. O n that central claim, see Walter Harrelson, “Life,
Faith and the Emergence of Tradition,” in Tradition and Theology in the Old Testament,
ed. Douglas A. Knight (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977), 11-30.
26. Klaus Koch, “Is There a Doctrine of Retribution in the Old Testament?” in
Theodicy in the Old Testament, 57-87.
It is when skepticism gained the upper hand that there was a radical
reassessment o f the concept that there was a powerful sphere o f influence in
which the built-in consequences o f an action took effectF
In the later documents of the Old Testament, Qoheleth and Job show
us that the concept o f actions with built-in consequences was shaken to the
foundation.28
Koch’s statem ents can easily be related to the categories of social

analysis offered by Berger, M erton, an d G unnem ann. T he first quote
concerning skepticism m eans th at the entire system o f benefits is in
question. T he second means that the benefit system is no longer re
garded as a cosmic given but is seen as a construction, or, we may
say, as a social contrivance. O nce seen as a contrivance, its positivistic
legitimacy is ended, an d it is subject to criticism and revision.
2. Patrick D. Miller29 has exam ined the ways in which benefits,
that is, rewards an d punishm ents, function in prophetic literature.
First, his prim ary argum ent concerns the correspondence of sin and
judgm ent. Second, his work carries on an im portant dialogue with
Koch in which he identifies cases in which Koch has used the texts
to serve his hypothesis, bu t in ways that are not the m ost com pelling
reading. But it is M iller’s concluding statem ent that concerns us. H e
concludes:
The correlation of sin and punishment while effected by Yahweh is

not manifest in a capricious and irrational way unconnected to the
nexus of events, as if it were an “act of God” in thesense that in
surance companies use such a term, a boltof lightning from the sky
that suddenly destroys. There is no such trivialization o f the notion
of judgm ent in the passages studied. On the contrary, they reveal a
kind of synergism in which divine and human action are forged into
a single whole or the divine intention o f judgment is wrought out
through human agency.30
For o u r purposes the telling phrases are “the nexus o f events” and
“w rought o u t th rough hum an agency.” T hat is, benefits occur through
social processes, through control o f access, goods, an d power. Any
critique o f G od’s justice m ust be a critique o f the social agency
27. Ibid., 79; italics in the original.

28. Ibid., 82; italics in the original.
29. Patrick D. Miller, Sin and Judgment in the Prophets (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press,
1982).
30. Ibid., 138.
through which th at justice is m ade concrete. Theodicy is n o t an es

oteric speculation ab out God, not a supernaturalism , bu t concerns
the h an d lin g o f power through hum an agency that claims religious
legitimacy. W hat h ad b een taken as divinely ordered is at least in
p a rt seen to be historically contrived. Theos is the legitim ator of dike,
b u t the issues surface always about justice as experienced in the
historical process.
3. David N. Freedm an, in his sum m ary of the exilic period, con
cludes with a section entitled “T he Final Response: Second Isaiah.”31
H e states:
The simplest explanation of Second Isaiah’s theology is to say that

what everyone else thought was the question (Why do the innocent
suffer?) was in fact the answer to a larger question, How does history
work?32
T hat shift o f the question proposed by Freedm an is precisely cor

rect, b u t I believe F reedm an has n o t carried the shift far enough.
To ask how history works is n o t a theoretical question ab o u t God
but an im m ediate political question about social power. Thus, for
example, in Isaiah 46 the gods o f Babylon are criticized, bu t this is
jo in e d im m ediately in chapter 47 by a critique o f arrogant political
power. T he two can n ot be separated.33 T he key interpretative point
for o ur purposes is the decisive linkage of divine authority and social
power. W hile scholarly attention has been on the m atter o f divine au
thority, th e overriding question in the text itself, I propose, is the
issue o f social power. T he ways o f adm inistering social power are now
deeply criticized, an d there is no going back. T here is no appeal to
divine legitimacy th at can now nullify the criticism. T he conversa
tion that N orm an Gottwald has boldly m ounted concerns precisely
this connection betw een divine legitimacy and social power, which
cannot b e dismissed as Marxist. Israel’s critical theological tradition
since th e exodus is precisely a protest about an d inquiry into the
benefit systems o f society in which God is affirm ed to be present as
dispenser, legitim ator, a n d guarantor. My concern h ere is to identify
precisely what is at issue in the m atter o f theodicy. As soon as the
31. David N. Freedman, “Son of Man, Can these Bones Live?” Int 29 (1975):
185-86.
32. Ibid., 186.
33. On the powerful connection between the two, see the essays in The Idols of
Death and The God of Life, ed. Pablo Richard (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1983).
fact of social evil is acknowledged, it becomes clear that theodicy is

an inquiry into such arrangem ents that give excessive life to some at
the expense o f others. It takes no great im agination to see that th at
is how th e theodicy question is posed in o u r time. I subm it it is the
way Israel characteristically posed the question.
IV
To test this proposal we take up the two texts commonly cited as
m ost explicitly posing the question of theodicy (Jer. 12:1; Jo b 21:7).
1. In Jer. 12:1, the theodic question is articulated as follows:
Why does the way of the wicked prosper?

Why do all who are treacherous thrive?
T h e two pairs o f term s here yield a deed-consequence understand

ing: wicked (rasa')/p ro s p e r (salah), be treacherous (bdgad)/th riv e
(sala). T hree observations are in order. First, the linkage of “wicked”
an d “prosper” is indeed a structure o f act-consequence. T he issue is
raised by the poet because the consequence should n o t follow from
the deed. T he deed and the consequence contradict each other,
which shows that the system o f benefits has collapsed. T he case is
b ro u g h t before Yahweh because Yahweh is the guarantor that cer
tain deeds yield certain consequences, and certain consequences do
o r do n o t follow from certain deeds. T he question to Yahweh grows
o u t o f concrete experiences of social practice. It is n o t speculative.
Second, the decisive term “prosper” (salah) is o f special interest
to us.34 O n the one hand, the term is tightly tied to obedience in a
clear schem e o f deed and consequence. This is tru e in the sanctions
o f the Torah (Deut. 28:29; Num. 14:41; Josh. 1:8). It is used with
reference to the reform ing kings by the C hronicler (2 C hron. 14:6;
26:5; 31:21; 32:30). O n the o th er hand, the term also refers to phys
ical, m aterial, social well-being, with an unm istakably eudaem onistic
connotation (cf. Gen. 24:21, 40, 42; 39:3, 23; Isa. 48:15; 53:10; 54:17).
Those who salah are those who benefit from the best rewards o f the
social system. It is n o t thought that the blessings and well-being are
given like a bolt from the blue, bu t are given the way such m at
ters are always adm inistered, through the responsible an d reliable
34. O n the term slk, see Robert Davidson, The Courage to Doubt (London: SCM,
1983), 21-26.
function o f th e social system. T he term has no special religious con

notation b u t refers to prosperity according to society’s capacity and
criteria.
T hird, in the text itself (Jer. 12:1) salah is exposited by the terms
o f verse 2, “they take root, they grow, they bear fruit.” T here are
visible m easures so that one can see for whom the social system
functions. Elsewhere in Jerem iah this material-social dim ension is ev
ident: in 2:37, it m eans (negatively) political well-being; in 5:28, it is
linked with justice and welfare o f orphans; and in 22:30, it refers to
longevity o f the dynasty.
2. T h e second text com m only cited with reference to theodicy is
in Jo b 21:7:
Why do the wicked live,

reach old age, and grow mighty in power?
This surely is a challenge to God, as conventional discussions o f

theodicy have recognized. Verse 4 observes that this protest is no t
against 'addm (hum ankind) b u t against God, who presides over the
social system from which ’addm benefits. T he conclusion o f this unit
in verse 16 speaks o f prosperity {tdb) and observes that the wicked
possess prosperity. T he issue is the same as Jer. 12:1. B ut what is
interesting here is th a t the issue does n o t revolve aro u n d a theo
logical referent. Indeed God is n o t directly addressed anym ore than
'addm is. G od is addressed by im plication, b u t I subm it it is n o t a
theological statem ent bu t a critique of a social system of benefits for
which God is at best the invisible, unnam ed guarantor. T he accent is
com pletely on the social a n d econom ic rewards that ought n o t to be
b u t are because the system is skewed. T he problem thus is n o t some
speculative theological argum ent o r an existential anguish about an
intim ate relation; the problem is the distribution o f social goods.
A variety o f texts explicate J o b ’s concern for the social process as
an in strum ent o f G od’s injustice:
Their children are established in their presence,

and their offspring before their eyes.
Their houses are safe from fear,
and no rod of God is upon them.
Their bull breeds without fail;
their cow calves, and does not cast her calf.
They send forth their little ones like a flock,
and their children dance___
They spend their days in prosperity Ifob],

and in peace they go down to Sheol. (w. 8-13)
The restatem ent in verses 23-24 observes that the wicked go to their
graves com fortable, untroubled, confident, rewarded:
One dies in full prosperity [Vsm],

being wholly at ease and secure,
his body full of fat
and the marrow of his bones moist.
They never see recom pense (sillem) or destruction (cf. w. 19-20).

H ow o n e reads this text depends upon o n e’s interpretative pos
ture. T he conventional existentialist tendency of interpretation35 can
take this simply an d directly as a critique of G od alone. But if the so
ciological analysis of theodicy we have outlined has m erit, then it is
clear th at th e well-being of the children, houses, bulls, and cows of
the wicked is no t caused directly by God as though by edict, bu t that
the well-being takes place through the nexus o f social processes.36
Such houses are safe from fear n o t because some spirit hovers over
the house b u t because the agents o f finance, security, and protection
are favorably inclined. O n e’s bull breeds w ithout fail n o t simply be
cause o f G od’s kindness but because one has the best bulls and has
the m oney to secure the m ost probable successes.37
My p o in t then is not an exegetical bu t a herm eneutical one. O ur
reading o f Jo b (or any o f the theodic literature) depends on o u r
perspective, that is, our social location. It is odd that an existential
ist reading goes hand in glove with a kind o f supernaturalism that
simply overlooks all the functions o f social process. But if the text is
read with social realism and we ask how it is that the wicked are well
off, it is because the networks o f social process that govern access
35. An existentialist interpretation has been made most attractive through the
study of Samuel Terrien. See his Job: Poet of Existence (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill,
1957). It is noteworthy how this sort of interpretation tends to shy away from the
materialist issues of social justice.
36. See the negation of these same social elements in Psalm 109, also through
social processes. See my study of Psalm 109 as a statement about social processes,
“Psalm 109: Three Times ‘Steadfast Love,” ' V/W 5 (1985): 144-54.
37. James A. Michener (Iberia [New York: Random House, 1968]), in commenting
on the sociology o f bullfighting, concludes that if the Republicans had won the civil
war in Spain, bullfighting would have come to an end. Bullfighting requires the
luxury of enormous tracts of land, dependent on social monopoly. The point is not
without parallel to Jo b ’s observation.
and pow er are inclined an d arranged that way. T he theodic question

addressed to God becom es at the same time skepticism about a so
cial process th at is less an d less regarded as legitimate. T he God of
Israel (who is in som e ways still linked to the revolutionary m em ories
o f the exodus) is never a God apart from social processes bu t is one
who is m ediated, experienced, and practiced in those processes.38
My ju d g m e n t is th at the entire question of theodicy has b een mis
u n d erstood in our guild because in the nam e o f objectivity we have
devised ways o f reading an d thinking about the question th at screen
o u t the problem s that are m ost difficult for the “haves” o f society.
I d o n o t want to claim too m uch o r overstate the case, b u t I
suggest th at these two questions from Jer. 12:1 an d J o b 21:7 read
differently if read in the presence o f those who resent the wicked
because the wicked have com e to have a m onopoly on social goods
an d social access, on bulls th at breed w ithout fail, on houses th at are
safe, o n children who sing an d dance and rejoice, an d on land that
is too large while others are displaced.
V
O ne o th e r evidence for relating theodicy to social evil needs to be
considered. I have noticed how many times in Job the question of
land is present. This is noteworthy because o u r existentialist readings
o f theodicy do n o t m uch concern land. I propose that where land
is u n d e r debate, questions o f G od’s justice concern no t only God
b u t the processes through which land is governed, distributed, taxed,
m ortgaged, an d repossessed. In such contexts, God is the giver and
authority o f land.39 At least to some extent the poem o f Job asks
about land and so shapes theodicy around issues o f social evil.
1. T h e book o f Jo b in its present form is bound by two statem ents
concerning property:
Thou hast blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions [miqneh]
have increased in the land. (1:10)
38. Proverbial sayings that lie behind the tradition of Job make connections be
tween God and social process in the direction argued here. See, for example, Prov.
14:31; 17:5; 18:17.
39. Psalm 37 is a remarkable example of wisdom teaching preoccupied with how
to secure and hold land. See especially w. 9, 11, 22, 29, 34, with the wordplay on
“cut off” (karat) and “possess” (yaras). Such a perspective in wisdom supports the
claim that wisdom teaching does indeed reflect a class interest, on which see Robert
Gordis, Brian Kovacs, George Mendenhall, and Glendon E. Bryce.
And in all the land there were no women so fair as Job’s daugh
ters; and their father gave them inheritance \nah“la] among their
brothers. (42:15)
T he structure of the book as loss and restoration (which has often

b een noted) is here articulated precisely around the land question,
th at is, the question o f land loss an d land restoration. This move
m en t is reflected as well in the form ula sub sebit (42:10), which is
also a form ula of land restoration.40
2. T he poem between these prose units is, am ong o ther things,
an inquiry about land and the processes by which it is lost and
held. We may begin with two statem ents that seem to be conclusions
reflecting a consensus. In chapter 20, Zophar presents a massive
assertion on the fate of the wicked. T he wicked, says Zophar, are
excluded from the reward system o f society an d will receive no
blessings. T he conclusion in verse 29 is:
This is the wicked man’s portion from God,

the heritage decreed from him by God.41
T h e portio n does not refer to com m union with God (as in some
Psalms) b u t to land. Z ophar’s verdict concerns social, econom ic, po
litical nullification, so th at the possessions of the wicked are taken
from him (v. 28) .42 T he form-critical analysis of Claus W esterm ann
suggests th at one loses possessions n o t by violence bu t through the
agency o f law, court, and finance.43 It is striking that at the e n d of
th e cycle o f exchange with the friends, in 27:13 Jo b quotes Z ophar’s
verdict and agrees with him:
40. On the meaning of this formula as it relates particularly to land, see John M.
Bracke, “The Coherence and Theology of Jerem iah 30-31” (Ph.D. diss., Union
Theological Seminary, Richmond, 1983), 148-55.
41. Brevard Childs (Isaiah and the Assyrian Crisis, SBT 3 /2 [Naperville, 111.: Alec R.
Allenson, 1967], 128-36) has identified this formula as a “summary appraisal.”
Rhetorically, then, the statement functions to assert a consensus that sociologically
means a theodic settlement.
42. O n “portion,” see Gerhard von Rad, “ ‘Righteousness’ and ‘Life’ in the Cultic
Language of the Psalms,” in The Problem of the Hexateuch and Other Essays (New York:
McGraw Hill, 1966), 260-66; and Walther Zimmerli, Old Testament Theology in Outline
(Atlanta: John Knox, 1978), 98-99.
43. Claus Westermann, The Structure of the Book of Job (Philadelphia: Fortress,
1981). The extensive use of the lawsuit form draws the argum ent very close to
such public processes, even if the usage is only an imitation. The form itself carries
those nuances into the discussion.
This is the portion of a wicked man with God,

and ilit* heritage which oppressors receive from the Almighty.
The detailed exposition of Job in 27:14-23 speaks, am ong o ther

things, o f loss o f children, silver, house, and riches. In d eed the
inversion o f m aterials is such that
he may pile it up, but the just will wear it,

and the innocent will divide the silver.
3. We may consider w hat the three friends say ab o u t land.

Eliphaz, speaking o f the m an who is reproved by God, says:
You shall know also that your descendants shall be many,

and your offspring as the grass of the land. (5:25)
In a parenthetical com m ent, he says:
what the wise men have told

and their fathers have not hidden,
to whom alone the land was given. . . (15:18-19)
Verse 20 offers a contrast by speaking of the wicked m an who has

pain a n d who m ust w ander abroad for bread (v. 23) precisely be
cause h e has no land from which to receive bread. In verse 29,
Eliphaz speaks o f the wicked:
He will not be rich, and his wealth will not endure,

nor will he strike root in the land.
In 22:8, Eliphaz catalogues J o b ’s sins and says:
The one with power possessed the land,

and the favored man dwelt in it.
You sent widows away empty, therefore. . .
T h at is, Jo b is seen as o n e who deserves to lose the land because he

did n o t conduct his land possession according to the norm s o f his
society.44
Bildad asserts th at the land is not excessively troubled by the
anger o f Jo b (18:4), an d then he com m ents on the wicked:
44. Job of course counters this in his statement of innocence in 31:16-17.

His memory perishes from the land,

and he has no name in the street. (18:17)
This verdict apparendy m eans he has no descendants to in h erit the

land. C oncerning Zophar, we have already com m ented on 20:39 an d
his verdict.
Clearly all three friends have a theory about land possession: life
is organized so th at socially responsible people possess land. Clearly
God governs so. Clearly as well, the social apparatus is organized to
assure this. T h e destiny of the righteous and the wicked is n o t simply
a heavenly verdict bu t a social pracdce. T he verdict o f God and the
practice o f the com m unity hold together, and the debate is about
both, never about one w ithout the other. T he friends are the voice
of a particular theodic ideology, and they keep social practice an d
religious legitimacy in close connection.
4. J o b ’s response to this m ode o f social interpretation is clear.
We have already seen in 27:13 th at Jo b has the same ju d g m e n t to
make as his friends about the distribution and possession of land.
J o b ’s speech concerns social loss. H e can rem em ber w hen the system
worked. T he socially undesirable
are driven out from among men;

they shout after them as after a thief.
In the gullies of the torrents they must dwell,
in the holes of the earth and of the rocks.
Among the bushes they bray;
under the nettles they huddle together.
A senseless, a disreputable brood,
they have been whipped out of the land. (30:5-8)
T h at is as it should be. T he systems of society work so th at the socially

undesirable should n o t have a place, an d they do not.
But, o f course, that is retrospect. T he problem is th at J o b ’s pres
en t experience does no t correspond to the theodic ideology of his
friends. Most o f the land references in the m outh of Jo b conc
the failure of the deed-consequence system to function:
The land is given into the hand o f the wicked;

he covers the faces of its judges—
if it is not he, who then is it? (9:24)
He takes away understanding from the chiefs of the people of the land,
and makes them wander in a pathless waste. (12:24)
Thrtxluy in a Social Dimension 191
T he ir f r ir iu t· in 9:24 is im portant because it m entions judges, thus

know lrdging hum an agency in the wrong distribution. T he hum an
4K<*n<'y o f judges, closely allied with the inequitable God, is the
«uhjret in 24:2-4:
Men remove landmarks;

they seize flocks and pasture them.
They drive away the ass of the fatherless;
they take the widow’s ox for a pledge.
They thrust the poor off the road,
the poor of the land all hide themselves, (w. 2-4)
In this text God does n o t directly exercise a tim e of judgm ent.

R ather the established network of social practices favors the powerful
rich against the helpless poor. T he arena of conflict is land, displace
m ent, and the erosion o f old boundaries. God is enm eshed in these
practices th at destroy society, bu t G od’s action is intim ately linked to
the judicial processes (cf. v. 12). God is assaulted n o t for direct ac
tions b u t because o f the unfair, unreliable social practices an d agents
God sanctions.
We have already exam ined the initial question concerning theod
icy in J o b 21:7. In th at same unit, Job asks,
How often is it that the lamp of the wicked is put out?

That their calamity comes upon them?
That God distributes pains in his anger? (21:17)
T h e verse is o f interest because the term translated as “distribute” is

hdlaq, to apportion. It is precisely the question o f distribution that
concerns Job. His question expects a negative answer. Never is the
lamp o f the wicked p u t out. Never is their calamity u p o n them .
Never does God distribute pain in anger. Jo b wishes for God to dis
tribute calamity. B ut Jo b does n o t believe that God will ever do it.
Jo b n o longer trusts the social system of rewards and punishm ent.
Jo b accepts the fundam ental theodic premise o f the friends, but
h e observes th at the system has collapsed. Yet, at the same time, Jo b
continues to expect som ething from that system. In the great climac
tic statem ent o f innocence in chapter 3 1,45 we may observe at the
beginning an d at the e n d references to land as the m easure of the
45. O n the chapter, see Georg Fohrer, “The Righteous Man in Job 31,” in Essays
in Old Testament Ethics, ed. James L. Crenshaw and John T. Willis (New York: KTAV,
1974), 1-22.
function o f the m oral system o f benefits. Land, as a blessing from

God, is surely given through the social systems of law and finance.
Jo b 31:2, reinforced by verses 3-4, is a statem ent o f innocence a n d o f
trust in the conventional processes o f reward and punishm ent. Job
in this passage counters the shrill question of 21:7 and affirms the
conventional system o f reward and ownership:
What would be my portion [heleq] from God above,

and my inheritance [n a if la ] from the Almighty on high?
The use of heleq and nalfla is worth noting. T hough the reward is
given by God, it is clearly a material reward that is given though so
cial processes. Thus this assum ption and its counter in 21:7 reflect the
two theodicies of which Berger speaks. In 31:2-4, we h ear the voice
of those for whom the system produces happiness. In 21:7, we hear
the voice of those for whom the system does no t work and produces
misery.
At the end of chapter 31 (w. 38-40), the last conditional self
im precation concerns land, care for the land, ability to have land,
and the risk of what may come upon the land. J o b ’s statem ent o f
innocence is, of course, a theological statem ent concerning bless
ing from God, b u t it is also a sociological statem ent about a system
o f sanctions. It is no t simply a supernatural act o f God that some
have good land and others have p o o r land, that some have thorns
and briers and others have m yrde an d cypress (Isa. 55:13). This
statem ent (31:38-40) is clearly rooted in a conventional curse for
mula. T he curse, however, does n o t take place in a social vacuum
b u t th rough social process. T he entire chapter—b o u n d ed by the ref
erences to land in verses 2 and 38-40—assumes a ju st social system.
W hat is u n d e r discussion is n o t only the good intention of God b u t
also the reliability of the system of benefits. It is for that reason that the
language o f the court is used (w. 35-37): this is a statem ent about
the workings o f the system. Indeed, the inclination o f Yahweh is
not u n d e r review in this chapter, but only the court system that
adjudicates claims.
VI
As the poem o f Job ends, Job has his m aterial blessings restored an d
increased (42:10-13), with credit for the rehabilitation given to Yah
weh. If the question of theodicy is posed aro und the issue of theos,
then the conclusion of this literature asserts that the faithful God
ol'Job answers and intervenes to work justice. But if the question of
theodicy is posed aro u n d the issue o f dike, then one may say th at ju s
tice is d o n e in the realm of social process. Because Jo b has spoken
what is right (w. 7-8), he is given twice as m uch (v. 10).
T he way in which Jo b is given twice as m uch is im portant for
our them e. To be sure, Yahweh guides the process o f rehabilitation.
But it is o f crucial im portance for our argum ent that the m ode of
restoration is th ro ugh visible social channels:
Then came to him all of his brothers and sisters and all who had
known him before, and ate bread with him in the house; and they
showed him sympathy and comforted him for all the evil that the
Lord had brought upon him; and each of them gave him a piece of
money and a ring of gold (v. 11) ,46
Jo b is given his rew ard as a ju s t m an through the social process. In

deed this hum an, com m unal action is stated as a response to G od’s
evil. God may do evil, b u t redress is done through social process.
To be sure, this hu m an action is m atched by an d corresponds
to the divine blessing (v. 12). But the divine blessing cannot substi
tute for social process. It is the work of the hum an com m unity that
makes J o b ’s experience o f G od’s justice possible. Indeed, o n e may
believe it is freshly functioning social processes that perm it this re
habilitation. Such processes do not displace divine justice b u t are
the m eans th rough which it is practiced and experienced. T he fi
delity an d generosity o f G od and the equity o f the social system both
operate. In d eed they function together. J o b ’s vindication is unm istak
ably th ro u g h th e social system. O ur supernaturalist and existentialist
readings o f Jo b have n o t sufficiently recognized that it is the rehabil
itation o f the social process that is evidenced along with and as the
form o f G od’s equity. In d eed our presuppositions have caused us not
even to notice th at the rehabilitation happens through Job’s fellows.
In Jerem iah , to which we have also given attention with respect
to theodicy, the same form ula o f sub sebut (cf. Jo b 42:10) is used
for lan d restoration an d for resum ption o f a place in the social
functioning o f the community. T here is no doubt that this poetry
o f rehabilitation bears witness to the fidelity and generosity o f God
(chaps. 30-31, 33).
46. “All who had known him ” perhaps refers not only to the three friends but
also to that whole company in chap. 30 who treat him with disdain.
For o u r purposes, what is com pelling is the function o f reg

ularized social process through which Jerem iah receives the ju st
treatm ent for which he yearns. T he narrative is at pains to stress
th at the hope o f land is im plem ented through predictable an d
trustworthy social practice and social institution:
I signed the deed, sealed it, got witnesses, and weighed the money
on the scales. Then I took the sealed deed of purchase, containing
the terms and conditions, and the open copy; and I gave the deed
of purchase to Baruch the son of Neriah, son of Mahseiah, in the
presence of Hanamel my cousin, in the presence of the witnesses
who signed the deed of purchase and in the presence of all the Jews
who were sitting in the court of the guard. (32:10-12)
T he detailed prose narrative is striking and unexpected after the

rhapsodic poetry o f chapters 30-31. In those chapters o f consola
tion, the specific hope is hom ecom ing to the land. But th at glorious
prom ise from God is in this narrative account m ade concrete in
its specific description of the careful, detailed social practice that
accom panies the reception of land. As is well known, Jer. 32:1-15
is a prose account of a legal transaction whereby Jerem iah, the
righteous com plainer who seeks justice and vengeance, receives the
land to which he is entitled. T here is no d o u b t that this quite
personal episode is presented as a theological affirm ation about
the restoration of Israel in the land by God. T he m ode o f the
assertion, however, is that this rehabilitation in the land is done
precisely th rough social, contractual processes, through paym ent,
signed deed, secured witness, and careful m easure.47 G od’s hope for
justice is enacted through social processes. T he derivative prom ise of
verses 42-44 presents precisely social good as the way Israel will know
God’s justice.
T h e grand promise of verse 15 and the specific historical details
o f verses 10-12 are not in any tension. T heir juxtaposition only in
dicates th at in this tradition o f theodicy, the righting o f injustice is
do n e th ro u g h the structures and processes o f society that m ake ju s
tice possible. To hope in G od’s future justice requires engagem ent
47. On the historical basis for the narrative o f 32:1-15, Robert P. Carroll (Jeremiah:
A Commentary, OTL [Philadelphia: Westminster, 1986], 134) refuses to make a judg
ment. There seems no reason, in my opinion, to deny this narrative account to
the historical experience of Jeremiah, thus perm itting it to be a resolution o f the
issue raised in 12:1. O n the specificity of the legal process, see Gene M. Tucker,
"Witnesses and ‘Dates’ in Israelite Contracts,” CBQ 28 (1966): 42-45.
with such historical concreteness. It takes deeds and witnesses and

records to im plem ent the promises o f God in historical processes.
T he tradition acknowledges that in the end, the land prom ises
are n o t fulfilled through supernatural intrusion bu t through the
transform ations o f historical process.48
In both Jo b an d Jerem iah (the two places where the theodicy
question is m ost explicitly p osed), the resolution of the theodic crisis
is restoration th rough social processes that are again known as func
tioning and reliable: (1) Jo b 21:7 moves to 42:10-13 an d restoration
by th e community giving. (2) Jerem iah 12:1 moves to 32:1-15 an d re
habilitation by legal procedures. The attack on G od’s justice is resolved
th ro u g h rectified social process, the only rectification in which Israel
has an interest.
T h ree m ethodological conclusions are hinted at in this argu
ment:
1. O u r conventional readings of theodicy through speculative,
supernatural, o r existentialist lenses may be a misreading. It may be
th at theodic literature is finally m ore interested in dike than in theos.
2. To the extent th at we have settled for a m isreading through
w rong categories, o u r habitual approach may be reflective o f our
social location as scholars, for we tend to be well-placed within the
social system and therefore n o t inclined to let o u r theological reflec
tion spill over into social criticism. It may be our social location that
causes us to agree th at theodicy concerns moral, natural, and reli
gious evil, to the disregard o f social evil. I propose that putting the
question differently invites a different reading of the text.
3. This arg u m ent may suggest (as I think is hinted by Koch,
Miller, an d F reedm an) th at a m aterialist reading is required. T he
reality o f G od’s governance is through social processes and no t with
ou t them . This may m ake us m ore open to current exegesis that
connects religious m atters to issues concerning social power, social
access, an d social goods. T hat is, read in relation to the crises o f so
cial process, the biblical literature has a different, m ore radical claim
to make.
As noted above, Freedm an has tracked the change of the ques
tion o f thcodicy. T he question Why do the innocent suffer? is
transform ed into How does history work? T he answer that Israel
■IN. Micali 2:1-5, o f course, shows how the gift of land from God takes place
tlir<Mi|(lt <li»< iplincd and formal social processes. See especially Albrecht Alt, “Micha
V: 1-r>, (itt Anadtumos in Juda,” in Kleine Schriften zur Geschichte des Volkes Israel
(M unich: η.p., 1<>!K>). 3:373-81.
knew very well is that history works through social processes (in
J o b ’s case th rough brothers and sisters an d all who knew him an d
in Jerem ia h ’s case through witnesses and court officials). Those so
cial processes are either legitim ated or ju d g e d by God. They operate
either equitably or unjustly, either for the well-being o f the com
m unity o r for its destruction. T hat is how history works. Yahweh
is discerned in Israel, sometimes as the im petus o f the social pro
cess, som etimes as the norm , and som etimes as the agent for the
transform ation of the process.
10______________________
The Social Nature of the Biblical Text
for Preaching
T h e PREACHER stands midway in the process o f the biblical

text. T he process o f form ing, transm itting, and interpreting the bib
lical text is a creative task at its beginning, m idpoint, an d ending.
T he creative dim ension of the process m eans that the text an d its
m eanings are always being produced. They never simply exist: they
are n o t ju st “th ere”; rather, the com m unity is continually engaged in
a willful act o f production o f m eaning. T hat is what is m eant by “the
social n atu re” o f the text.1
The Textual Process

T he textual process has three identifiable points, each o f which is
creative, th at is, productive. First, it begins in the formation of the text,
that is, the way in which the text has reached its settled canonical
form. Historical-critical m ethods of study are concerned with the
ways in which the community, through editors, redactors, scribes,
and traditionists, has p u t the text together. W hatever view we have
o f th e creation o f the text, we know that hum an hands an d hearts
have b een at work in its form ation.
1. On the work of the community in generating the text, see Michel Clevenot,
Materialist Approaches to the Bible (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1985), esp. chaps. 12-15.
Leonardo Boff (Church, Charism and Power [New York; Crossroad, 1985], 110-15) has
seen the critical implications of this insight of production concerning the ideological
control that the interpreting community exercises over the text.
197
Second, the en d of the textual process is the reception and hear

ing o f the text th at are done by the congregation. We know th at such
listening is a com plex m atter because com m unication in general is
exceedingly complex, and reception o f the text is a specific m om ent
o f com m unication. No one can im agine any longer that the preach
ing o f th e text is heard by m em bers of the com m unity ju st as it is
spoken o r ju st as it is intended by the preacher. T he listening is done
th rough certain sensitivities that may distort, emphasize, enhance, or
censor, d ep en d ing on the particular situation of the listening com
munity. T he listening com m unity is engaged in a constructive act of
construal, o f choosing, discerning, and shaping the text through the
way the com m unity chooses to listen.2 T he text thus construed may
or may n o t be the text that is the one offered by the speaker. T hat
is, th e text h eard may be quite different from the one proclaim ed.
It is the th ird identifiable point, the midway process of interpretation,
that interests us in this essay. Interpretation is all the action between
form ation an d reception th at seeks to assert the authority an d sig
nificance of the text. This interpretative step includes the classical
creeds an d com m entaries, the long history o f theological reflection,
contem porary scholarship, an d contem porary church pro n o u n ce
m ents. Above all, it includes the interpretative work of the p reacher
in the serm on. It is in the serm on that the church has done its d e
cisive, faith-determ ining interpretation. T he serm on is n o t an act o f
rep o rtin g on an old text; it is an act o f m aking a new text visible
and available. This new text in part is the old text an d in p art is the
imaginative construction of the preacher that did n o t exist until the
m om ent o f utterance by the preacher.3 Like a conductor “re n d erin g ”
Beethoven so that that particular music exists only in that occasion,
2. O n the freedom exercised and the choices made in such construal, see
David H. Kelsey, The Uses of Scripture in Recent Theology (Philadelphia: Fortress,
1975). On a “canonical construal” of the Old Testament, see Brevard S. Childs,
Old Testament Theology in a Canonical Context (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986).
3. Michael Fishbane (Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel [Oxford: Clarendon,
1985]) has shown in a compelling way the dynamic relation between traditum and
traditio, that is, the tradition and the ongoing traditioning process. It is often the
case, clearly, that the traditio becomes the new traditum. See also his more suc
cinct statement of the matter, “Torah and Tradition,” in Tradition and Theology in
the Old Testament, ed. Douglas A. Knight (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977), 275-300.
In this latter work he comments: “Hereby the danger inherent in the dialectical
process between a divine Torah-revelation and a hum an exegetical Tradition has
been disclosed. Tradition has superseded the Torah-teaching and has become an
independent authority. Indeed, in this case, Tradition has replaced Torah itself”
(p. 294).
The Social Nature o f the Biblical Text for Preaching 199
so the p reach er renders a text so that it exists only in that particular

form in th at particular occasion o f speaking.4
T hese three dim ensions of the textual process—form ation, inter
pretation, reception— are all creative acts in which the text and its
m eaning are n o t only an offer m ade to the com m unity b u t also a
p ro d u ct generated in the community. Interpretation an d listening,
as well as form ation, are creative acts o f construal. This creative as
pect o f th e text is unavoidable an d should be welcomed as an arena
in which faith is received, discerned, and m ade pertinent. Some may
think such creative possibility in interpretation is an aberration to
be avoided. It can n ot be avoided. N or should it be avoided, because
it is the way in which G od’s word is alive am ong us. Interpretation
can an d m ust be creative an d imaginative if it is to be interpretation
and n o t simply reiteration. Listening is inevitably an imaginative act
o f response in which the listener does p art of the work of ren d erin g
the text.5
This entire creative process consists of two factors that are in ten
sion a n d m ake o u r topic both im portant and difficult. T he textual
process is at every p o in t an act of faith. In faithful interpretation, the
entire process is governed by the work o f G od’s Spirit o f truth. It is
this th at perm its in terpretation to be an act of faith. T he prom ise o f
faith is the conviction th at in its form ation, interpretation, and re
ception the text is a word o f life that makes a difference. No p a rt o f
this process is u n d ertak en on the pretense that this is objective or
n eutral o r a m atter o f indifference.
T hose who form ed the text did so because they knew the tradi
tions to be im p o rtant a n d they ju d g ed them to be true an d u rgent
for the ongoing generations of the community. T hat is the theologi
cal m eaning o f the canon. T he subsequent interpreter who received
the tex t has labored diligently over it, as does the contem porary in
terpreter, because faith requires interpretation. Interpreters in every
generation, even those who have exercised enorm ous freedom , have
in ten d ed th eir work as an effort in fidelity. Finally, those who re
ceive th e text, the assem bled com m unity of listeners, g ather in an
act o f faith. T he church gathers around the text because it takes the
4. In the “rendering” of the text, one “renders” God in a new way. On the
theme, see Dale Patrick, The Rendering of God (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981).
5. O n the methodological possibilities in “reader response,” see Wolfgang Iser,
The Act of Reading: A Theory of Aesthetic Response (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univ.
Press, 1978), and the collection of essays The Reader in the Text, ed. Susan R.
Sulieman and Inge Crosman (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton Univ. Press, 1980).
text seriously. It listens eagerly (and therefore imaginatively) to try

to h ear the nuance in the text that is G od’s live word now. Partici
pants at every point o f the textual process are unem barrassed about
the prem ise o f faith. All parts o f the textual process are undertaken
prim arily to ensure the powerful, authoritative presence o f the word
am ong m em bers o f the community.
It is also the case, however, that every p art o f the textual process
is an act of vested interest. Exegetical study is now learning this insight
from sociological criticism.6 T he textual process does n o t proceed
objectively o r neutrally b u t always intends to m ake a case in a certain
direction. Just as there is no “exegesis w ithout presuppositions,”7 so
there is no textual activity that is no t linked to a vested interest. T he
form ation o f the text itself has been an act o f vested interest. C ertain
pieces o f literature are selected, gathered, shaped, and juxtaposed
in different ways to argue certain points. We know, for example,
th at the early com m unity around Moses authorized certain texts that
served the interest o f liberation.8 T he exodus narrative is surely p u t
together by proponents o f a radical, liberating faith. In the time of
Solomon, other texts were celebrated because they legitim ated the
concentration of power in the m onarchy and served to enhance the
inequality o f the status quo.
In like m anner, the interpretative act is notorious for being an
act o f vested interest. T here is no doubt that “liberation com m u
nities” in the T hird World approach every text with an inclination
th at tilts interpretation in a specific direction. We are com ing to
see th at even what we regarded as the objective scholarship o f the
historical-critical m ethod has n o t been objective bu t has served cer
tain social interests and enhanced certain epistem ological biases.9
6. For brief introductions to this m ethod of study, see Robert R. Wilson, Soci
ological Approaches to the Old Testament (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984), and Norman
Gottwald, “Sociological Method in the Study of Ancient Israel,” in Encounter with the
Text, ed. Martin J. Buss (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979), 69-81.
7. See Rudolf Bultmann, “Is Exegesis without Presuppositions Possible?” in Ex
istence and Faith (Cleveland: World, 1960), 289-96. Given our current sociological
inclination, the formula has come to have different, and perhaps more radical,
implications than originally suggested by Bultmann.
8. This is a central argum ent of Norman Gottwald, The Tribes of Yahweh
(Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1979). See, for example, chap. 13 where he speaks of
substructure and superstructure and narratives as “objectifications of the tradition
superstructure.”
9. This point has been well argued by Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza, Bread Not
Stone (Boston: Beacon, 1984). For startling examples of tendentious interpretation,
see Robert Ericksen, Theologians under Hitler (New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1985).
The Social Nature o f the Biblical Text fo r Preaching 201
We are com ing to see th at what we thought was objective has in fact
b een the “class reading” o f male, Euro-American theology. Richard
R ohrbaugh has offered stunning and convincing evidence th at many
o f the great A m erican preachers of the last generation handled texts
so th at the sharp a n d disconcerting social dim ension th at questioned
o u r econom ic com m itm ents was ignored. As a result, the text was in
terp reted in o th er directions that probably were serious distortions.10
This was n o t in tentional distortion on the part of the preacher. It was
simply a function o f the fact that our faith is regularly em bodied in
a vested interest th at we ourselves are no t always able to discern.
Finally, listening to the text and its interpretation is an act of
vested interest. Over time we select the m ode and substance o f inter
p retatio n th at we w ant to hear. We select our interpretative tradition.
We read certain books, subscribe to certain journals, even jo in or
avoid certain churches in ord er to find a textual interpretation that
is co n g ru en t with o u r vested interests and that we can receive and
h ea r and to which we can respond.11
T he textual process o f form ation, interpretation, and reception is
therefore always a m ixture o f faith and vested interest. To study “the
social process” is to pay attention to that vexed com bination. T hat
the textual process is skewed by interest requires a herm eneutic o f
suspicion.12 T h at th e textual process is an act of serious faith permits
a h erm eneutic o f retrieval. Despite the identification o f these two
herm eneutics, the m atter remains com plicated and problem atic be
cause we can n o t practice one herm eneutic first and then the other.
We can n o t first sort out vested interest and then affirm faith, be
cause vested in terest and faith always come together and cannot be
so nicely distinguished. We m ust simply recognize the fact th at the
two always com e together, even in the midst o f our best efforts of
discernm ent an d criticism.
10. Richard L. Rohrbaugh, The Biblical Interpreter (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978).

11. On the neutralizing effect of much scholarship, see Jose Cardenas Pallares,
who has observed the power of “guild scholarship” to avoid the central interpretative
issues. He writes, “Today, Sacred Scripture is studied with the benevolent approval
of the pax imperialis; no exegetical activity disturbs the tranquility o f the ‘em pire’ for
a single moment. What biblical periodical has ever fallen under suspicion of being
subversive? Biblical specialists have curiously little to suffer from the Neros and
Domitians of our time” (A Poor Man Called. Jesus [Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1986], 2).
12. The notion of a herm eneutic of suspicion has been normatively presented
by Paul Ricoeur, Freud and Philosophy (New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1970). See the
programmatic use made o f it by David Tracy, The Analogical Imagination: Christian
Theology and the Culture of Pluralism (New York: Crossroad, 1981), 346-73 and passim.
T he creative act o f form ation-interpretation-reception produces a

text. As it produces a text, it forms an imaginative world in which the
com m unity o f the text may live. T h at production of a text is a will
ful, intentional act generated by faith and vested interest. T hat the
text is “produced” m eans a different text could have b een form ed,
in terp reted, o r received. This m eans that the produced text is never
in n o cent or disinterested. But it is this text, never innocent o r dis
interested, that we take as the norm ative text for o u r faith. T he text
th at has been produced and m ade canonical is the only one we have.
It is to that text we m ust obediently and critically attend.
W hen the com m unity has thus produced a text, it is the task
o f the com m unity to consume the text, that is, to take, use, heed,
respond to, and act upon the text. The entire process o f the text
th en is an act of production and consum ption whereby a new world
is chosen o r an old world is defended, or there is transform ation
o f old world to new world.13 T he purpose o f using the categories
o f production and consum ption is to suggest that the textual pro
cess, especially the interpretative act o f preaching, is never a benign,
innocent, o r straightforward act. Anyone who imagines that h e o r
she is a benign o r innocent preacher of the text is engaged in
self-deception.14 Preaching as interpretation is always a daring, dan
gerous act in which the interpreter, together with the receivers o f the
interpretation, is consum ing a text and producing a world.
T he world so produced is characteristically a world m ade possible
by faith, b u t it is a world m ediated through vested interest. Thus the
text never only says; it also does. W hat it does is to create an o th er
world o f perception, value, and power that perm its alternative acts.
G reat attention m ust be paid to vested interest and its im pact on
perception, value, and power because vested interest has an enor
m ous power to guide the textual process in certain directions. It
is this dangerous, inevitable dram a o f the text that is referred to
u n d e r the rubric “social nature.” As both m em ber and leader o f the
community, the preacher is necessarily involved in this dangerous,
13. On production and consumption in relation to texts, see Kuno Fussel, “The
Materialist Reading of the Bible,” in The Bible and Liberation: Political and Social
Hermeneutics, ed. Norman Gottwald (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1983), 134-46.
14. The preacher characteristically and by definition uses words in a performative
manner. Cf. J. L. Austin, How to Do Things with Words (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
Univ. Press, 1962). On the definitional impossibility o f a “neutral pulpit,” see Walter
Brueggemann, “On Modes of Truth,” Seventh Angel 12 (March 15, 1984): 17-24.
problem atic pro d u ction an d consum ption of texts through which

worlds are chosen a n d life is transform ed.
The Classic Tradition of Sociology

T he classic tradition o f sociology illum inates the lively shaping action
o f the com m unity u p o n the text.15 It is im portant to recognize that
sociology arose as a distinct discipline in response to a specific so
cial crisis. T h at is, sociology is no t simply the general study o f hum an
community, b u t from its beginning was a discipline preoccupied with
a particular set o f awarenesses and problem s.16 T he startling changes
in hu m an consciousness that came in the seventeenth, eighteenth,
an d n in eteen th centuries and that are associated with the E nlighten
m en t an d m odernity have m ade us aware that the world in which
we live is a social contrivance that carries with it im portant costs
a n d gains. Sociology is essentially a critical discipline th at has ex
posed th e deceptive notion that the social world is an absolute given
arrangem ent; it has accom plished this exposure by bringing to vis
ibility the ways in which society continually constructs itself. At the
outset, sociology as criticism was aim ed against traditional notions
o f the absolute givenness of social life that were legitim ated by re
ligious orthodoxy. These notions, as sociological study m ade clear,
also b ro u g h t with them the legitimacy of an absolutist econom ic and
political orthodoxy.17
Sociology was therefore initially addressed to the mystification of
a religion th at claim ed an d pretended the world was a given. At the
sam e time, however, sociology tended to be blind and inattentive to
a scientific orthodoxy that posited a new social given, this time ob
jective, rational, neutral, an d technological—all the things we have
com e to label as positivistic.18 Critical sociology em erged to deal in
tentionally with th e naive positivism o f m uch social science; it has
15. C. Wright Mills ( The Sociological Imagination [New York: Oxford Univ. Press,
1959]) exhibits the categories of discernment that have been generated and
nurtured by sociology.
16. See Robert A. Nisbit, The Sociological Tradition (New York: Basic Books, 1966),
for a survey of the characteristic themes of classical sociology.
17. This is, of course, the focus of Marx’s critique o f religion. It is im portant
that this critique be taken in a specific context and not as a general statement. For
a positive sense of Marx’s critique of religion, see Jose Miranda, Marx against the
Marxists (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1980).
18. See Robert N. Bellah, “Biblical Religion and Social Science in the Modern
World,” NICM Journal for Jews and Christians in Higher Education 6 (1982): 8-22.
becom e clear that the new “objective” world is as confused as the old
religious world and as incapable of seeing the workings of its own
ideology.19 Critical sociology can help us see that the vested interests
an d ideological defenses o f “scientific objectivity” are as danger6us
and dishonest as the old absolutes of religion.
This shift from the old world o f religious tradition and con
vention to the new world o f technical control is a them e that has
preoccupied the classical tradition o f sociology. This them e has been
articulated in various forms. We may m ention its appearance in the
three progenitors o f the classical sociological tradition.
1. Karl Marx addresses the social alienation caused by capital
ism and the role o f religion in legitim ating social structures th at are
exploitative and dehum anizing.20 M arx’s great insights are that eco
nom ic arrangem ents are decisive for all social relationships and that
religion functions primarily to legitim ate econom ic arrangem ents.
Clearly M arx was preoccupied with the shift in econom ic relations
that tore the econom ic dim ension away from the general fabric o f
social life.21 He saw that this shift was deeply destructive of the possi
bility of hum an community. T he em ergence of alienation as a central
p ro d uct o f the m odern world is at the center of M arx’s analysis. T he
textual tradition entrusted to the preacher has as a task the discern
m en t of that alienation and the consideration o f alternatives to it.
T he preacher m ust pay attention to the ways in which the text and
its interpretation participate in the process o f alienation.
2. Max W eber sought to provide an alternative to Marx that did
n o t identify econom ics as the cause of everything.22 W eber paid
particular attention to the new forms o f social control and adm in
istration and the em erging power of bureaucracy. It would be a
19. See Alvin Gouldner, The Coming Crisis of Western Sociology (New York: Basic
Books, 1970).
20. The writings of Marx are complex and not easily accessible. The best access
point I know is the introduction by David McLelland, The Thought of Karl Marx (New
York: Macmillan, 1971). On alienation in Marx in relation to religious questions, see
Arend van Leeuwen, Critique of Heaven (New York: Scribner’s, 1972); idem, Critique
of Earth (New York: Scribner’s, 1974); and Nicholas Lash, A Matter of Hope (Notre
Dame, Ind.: Univ. of Notre Dame Press, 1982). See also Rene Coste, Marxist Analysis
and Christian Faith (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1985).
21. On the emergence of “laws of the marketplace,” which are regarded as de
tached from social pressures and values, see Karl Polanyi, The Great Transformation
(Boston: Beacon, 1957).
22. Max Weber’s works are scattered, but a useful sourcebook is From Max Weber:
Essays in Sociology, ed. Η. H. Gerth and C. Wright Mills (New York: Oxford Univ.
Press, 1946). For an accessible introduction to Weber, see Frank Parkin, Max Weber
(London: Tavistock, 1982).
mistake, however, to in terp ret W eber (against Marx) as a friend of

m odernity. Like Marx, W eber saw the heavy toll th at the structures
an d values o f m odernity would continue to assess against the pos
sibility o f hum anness. T he em ergence o f new forms o f rationality
preoccupied Weber. T he em ergence of destructive forms o f ratio
nality is also a struggle in the Bible, where covenantal m odes of
rationality are regularly offered against the tem ptations o f natural
ism an d nationalism . In our present social situation, the connections
R obert Bellah has m ade concerning m anagerial rationality offer a
suggestive critical insight for the preaching office.23
3. In a m ore conservative m ode, Emile D urkheim was interested
in the req u irem en t o f social cohesion for the survival o f society.24
In his classic study o f suicide, D urkheim observed w hat happens in
societies w here the fabric of value and cohesion is exhausted and
persons m ust live in a context of normlessness.25 D urkheim ’s critique
can cut two ways. O n the one hand, ours is a society that lives at the
edge o f norm lessness; on the o th er hand, we react to normlessness
with a heavyhanded em phasis on conformity. T he crisis o f norm less
ness an d conform ity in o u r culture sounds strangely rem iniscent of
the Mosaic crisis ab o u t freedom and obedience and the problem atic
o f the law as Paul understood it. T he preacher is cast in a social role
as a voice o f norm ativeness, in a society bereft of norms.
T here are great differences am ong these three spokespersons for
social possibility an d pathology, bu t they all focus on the fact that
societies have ways in which to articulate and distort certain kinds o f
tru th th at m ake h u m an life possible or problem atic. Social structure,
order, an d value are n o t objective givens. But they also are n o t sim
ply connections th at can be willfully and artificially wrought. They
are, rather, the slow, steady work of form ation, creation, and trans
form ation by which a com m unity orders its life of perception, value,
an d power.26
23. See Robert N. Bellah et al., Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment
in American Life (Berkeley: Univ. of California Press, 1985), 44-51.
24. Robert K. Merton (Social Theory and Social Structure [New York: Free Press,
1957], chaps. 4 and 5) has articulated well Durkheim’s attentiveness to the crisis of
normlessness.
25. Emile Durkheim, Suicide: A Study in Sociology (New York: Free Press, 1951).
More generally on Durkheim, see Kenneth Thompson, Emile Durkheim (London:
Tavistock, 1982).
26. For a general critical survey of more recent sociological thought, see
Robert W. Friedrichs, A Sociology of Sociology (New York: Free Press, 1970).
Interpretation as Social Construction

T he act of interpretation takes seriously b o th the old treasured m em
ory and the new dem and of the situation. Interpretation seeks tcf
m ediate between tradition an d situation. O n the one hand, interpre
tation is always responsive to the situation, that is, com m enting on the
new social realities th at are already established. O n the o th er hand,
in terpretation is always assertive, saying som ething genuinely new and
challenging the com m unity to rethink and reperceive the newly es
tablished reality in light o f the tradition. In m odes of b o th response
an d assertion, interpretation is an imaginative act th at articulates re
ality in a new way impossible until the m om ent o f speech. It is the
speech that creates the possibility.
Sociology shows us th at society is constantly reconstructing itself.
While great attention therefore needs to be paid to the m anipulation
o f power and the m anagem ent o f econom ic and political forces, we
know th at the prim ary m ode by which a com m unity reconstitutes
itself is by its interpretation, by its reflection on ancient m em ory
and tradition, and by its recasting o f that m em ory and tradition in
new ways resonant with the new situation.27 All com m unities are al
ways engaged in the process o f interpretation. This is w hat ideology,
propaganda, mass m edia, and civil religion are about. They are re
sponses and assertions, m ore or less creative, that seek to m ediate a
newness juxtaposed between tradition and situation.
In o rd er to arrive at a b etter understanding o f interpretation as a
social act o f reconstruction, several dim ensions o f critical exposition
are peculiarly im portant.
1. Interpretation is unavoidably a com m unal activity. T he whole
com m unity is involved in the process. Interpretation m ust take place
if the com m unity is to live and continue. Interpretation inevitably
does happen because it is a m ain activity o f the community. Soci
ology has helped us see that com m unities are always engaged in
interpretative acts o f reconstitution and reconstruction. T hat act
o f in terpretation is characteristically a m ixture o f faith an d vested
interest.
With the coming o f the E nlightenm ent and the rise o f modernity,
m any have failed to understand the inevitability o f interpretation.
T he fascination with so-called objectivity led to the m istaken no
tion th at reality did n o t need to be interpreted. As reality did no t
27. See Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, 1 and passim.

n eed to be in terp reted, it was mistakenly concluded that the biblical

text could be read in a straightforward m anner w ithout interpreta
tion. This is also the m istaken notion of those who w ant the U.S.
Suprem e C ourt to be “strict constructionists,” that is, n o t to en
gage in in terpretation. T he kind o f interpretation th at denies it is
in terp retatio n is in d eed interpretation o f the m ost dangerous kind
because it attem pts to establish itself as unavailable for criticism.
2. T he interpretative act o f social reconstitution is w hat the bib
lical text itself is all about. T hat is, the text is no t simply a factual
rep o rtin g ab o u t w hat happened. In each of its statem ents it is an
act o f interpretative m ediation whereby ancient Israel an d the early
chu rch seek to reconstitute the com m unity in the face o f a new dan
ger o r crisis.28 In an cient Israel, the new situation is characteristically
the new concentration o f power and knowledge in the m onarchy or
th e loss o f m onarchal power and knowledge in the exile.29 In the
New Testam ent, the characteristic new situation is the interface be
tween Jewish and gentile Christians and the derivative problem s of
ethics an d organization. In each case, the new situation requires a
total recasting o f the m em ory in order to sustain the identity o f the
community.
T he texts are n o t only response, however, They are also bold as
sertions in the face o f the new situation. For example, in the Old
Testam ent the Yahwistic theologians do n o t simply conform to the
new social reality b u t make a strong case that in the new situation
Israel m ust u n d erstan d itself as the bearer of a blessing.30 In the New
Testam ent, for exam ple, Luke-Acts offers bold suggestions about how
the church m ust u n d erstand itself and order its faith. T hat the O ld
an d New Testam ent texts are both responsive and assertive m eans
28. Narrative is essentially this act of recasting and interpreting the memory to
m eet a new crisis. Unfortunately, narrative theology has been frequently presented
as a relief from Enlightenm ent modes of historicity, without attention to the dy
namic, positive act of reconstitution. On the power and significance of story, see
James Barr, “Story and History in Biblical Theology,” in The Scope and Authority of
the Bible (London: SCM, 1980), 1-17; and Tracy, Analogical Imagination, 275-81. On
the cruciality of narrative, see Fred B. Craddock, The Gospels (Nashville: Abingdon,
1981): “A writer has in the sources available the sayings and the events for a narra
tive about Jesus Christ. A church has needs to be addressed. The intersection, of the
two is called a Gospel, a literary work of immense courage and freedom” (p. 27).
29. Gerhard von Rad ( Old Testament Theology [New York: Harper and Row, 1962],
1:36-85) has shown how these two crises are pivotal for Israel’s interpretative action.
30. See Hans Walter Wolff, “The Kerygma of the Yahwist,” in The Vitality of Old
Testament Traditions, by Walter Brueggemann and Hans Walter Wolff (Adanta: John
Knox, 1975), 41-66.
that they are deeply imaginative. They proclaim a social reality that
did n o t exist until that m om ent o f articulation. Moreover, because
the text is deeply imaginative, it is probable th at each such request
ing o f social reality is a m ixture o f faith and vested interest. Thus the
J writer is concerned to m aintain a hum an vision against a m onar
chal enterprise of self-aggrandizement. Luke seems to have been
concerned lest the early church becom e a sect aligned against the
em pire. T he com m unity over time has ju d g ed the vested interests of
the texts (for example, J and Luke) to be faithful vehicles for faith
and n o t acts of distortion. As a result, these specific texts have been
ju d g ed authoritative an d designated as canonical.
In the Pentateuch, the docum entary hypothesis o f JEDP has been
m uch m isunderstood an d m aligned. It is an attem pt to characterize
the ongoing interpretative act of m ediation that was underway in an
cient Israel.31 T he J m aterial, according to the dom inant hypothesis,
is an attem pt to m ediate the old m em ory in the affluent situation o f
Solomon. Similarly, the P tradition is an attem pt to m ediate the old
m em ory in the despairing situation of exile.32 These two m om ents,
u n ited m onarchy and exile, require fresh interpretative acts or the
old tradition will have been in vain. In the cases o f both J an d P, one
can detect th at this interpretative act is indeed a response to a social
crisis, an assertion in the face o f the crisis, and is a rem arkable act
of im agination. It takes very little insight to see th at in each case the
m ediation is a m ixture o f faith and vested interest.
In like m anner, the Synoptic Gospels are m ediations o f the old
m em ory of the early church.33 T he Gospel o f Mark faces the chal
lenge of Rom an imperialism; M atthew takes up the question of the
relationship between Christians and Jews, o r perhaps Jesus an d the
Jewish tradition; and Luke struggles with the gospel in a gentile
world. These statem ents are clearly no t theological absolutes (or we
would n o t have these three variants), n o r are they factual descrip
tions of what happened, bu t they are m ediations that m ake available
a new world in which the com m unity may live joyously an d faithfully.
3. In the creative, imaginative act o f construction o f reality, the
interpreters, those who process the text, are dangerously engaged in
31. See more generally Brueggemann and Wolff, The Vitality of Old Testament
Traditions.
32. On the exile as a situation requiring and permitting bold interpretation, see
Ralph W. Klein, Israel in Exile (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979).
33. O n the canonical process and its significance in the New Testament, see James
D. G. Dunn, “Levels of Canonical Authority," HBT 4 (1982): 13-60.
two ways.34 O n the one hand, they are so engaged because they in
evitably m ake responsive, assertive m ediations in the m idst of their
own m ixture of faith an d interest. Interpreters are never interest
free b u t always present reality in partisan ways and, indeed, cannot
do otherwise. O n the o th er hand, in the act of interpretation they
also have th eir own w orld rem ade. They do n o t stand outside this
process b u t are being self-interpreted in the very act of biblical in
terpretation. In this act o f m ediation, herm eneutics then makes a
new world possible. In herm eneutics as m ediation, we thus bring
the “process o f the text,” which includes form ation, interpretation,
and reception, to g ether with the sociology o f world m aking through
which the com m unity reconstructs itself.
T he key herm eneutical event in contem porary interpretation is
the event o f preaching. T he preacher either intentionally o r unin
tentionally is convening a new community. This recognition will help
us see why p reaching is such a crucial event n o t only in the life of
the church b u t also in o u r society. We m ust in terp ret to live. T here is
alm ost no o th er voice left that is honest, available, and open to crit
icism an d th at can do the interpretation on which society depends.
Most o f the o th er acts o f interpretation that are going on in our
m idst are cryptic an d therefore no t honest, no t available, an d not
o p en to criticism. T he preaching m om ent is a public event in which
society reflects on what an d who it will be, given the m em ory o f this
church and given a postm odern situation in society.35
4. In the h andling o f the text by the preacher as in terp reter and
by th e congregation as receiver, the herm eneutical work o f world-
constitution is going on. T he interpretative work is done through
the p re ach e r’s m ixture o f faith and interest while the congregation
is listening an d responding in its m ixture o f faith and interest. All
parties to this act o f interpretation need to understand that the text
34. For a formidable introduction to the issues, see Anthony C. Thiselton, The
Two Horizons (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1980). See also Richard E. Palmer, Herme
neutics: Interpretation Theory in Schleiermacher, Dilthey, Heidegger, and Gadamer (Evanston,
111.: Northwestern Univ. Press, 1969). Unfortunately both Thiselton and Palmer are
confined to the tradition o f Heidegger. This tradition needs to be carefully criti
cized by a political herm eneutic rooted in Marx, as suggested by Ernst Bloch and
the Frankfurt School. A more balanced view that takes into account the liberation
trajectory is offered by David Tracy, Analogical Imagination, chap. 5 and passim.
35. O n the shape of religious problems and possibilities in a postmodern context,
see William Beardslee, “Christ in the Post-Modern Age,” in The Post-Modern Condition:
A Report on Knowledge, ed. Jean-Frangois Lyotard (Minneapolis: Univ. of Minnesota
Press, 1984); and Mark C. Taylor, Erring: A Post Modem A-Theology (Chicago: Univ. of
Chicago Press, 1984).
is n o t a contextless absolute o r a historical description b u t is itself a

responsive, assertive, imaginative act th at stands as a proposal o f real
ity to the community. As the preacher and the congregation handle
the text, the text becomes a new act that makes available one m edi
ation o f reality. T hat new m ediation o f reality is characteristically an
act o f fidelity, an act o f inventiveness, and an act in which vested in
terest operates. Moreover, the preacher and the congregation do this
in th e m idst o f many o th er acts of m ediation in which they also par
ticipate, as they attend to civil religion, propaganda, ideology, and
mass media. They are incessantly involved in a com plex o f various
interpretative, constructive acts, while claim ing the interpretative act
authorized by the Bible to be the norm ative one.
The Congregation and the Crisis of Modernity

T he congregation that engages in interpretation (and with the in
terpretation embraces a certain refraction o f the text) is no t a
contextless, undifferentiated entity. T he congregation, as a com m u
nity in crisis, gathers to decide one m ore time about its identity and
its vocation. T he people gathered have been bom barded since the
last gathering by o ther voices o f interpretation th at also w ant to of
fer an identity and a vocation. In what follows, I am focusing broadly
on th e typical m ainline N orth Am erican congregation, either Prot
estant o r Catholic. I assume such a congregation because th at is
the context in which I characteristically do my interpretation. Cer
tainly o th er congregational settings could be assumed, and I do not
im agine that this one is norm ative or even preferable.
A different statem ent m ight be m ade in a different context, such
as in post-Christian W estern Europe, in a totalitarian state, o r in op
pressive El Salvador, b u t o u r congregation is n o t yet post-Christian, is
n o t in a totalitarian context, and is no t faced with direct oppression.
This congregation is a gathering o f people who have b een largely
enveloped in the claims o f modernity. It is a com m unity with a m em
ory an d with a present reality. In the m idst o f this m em ory an d this
reality, the act of interpretation is undertaken one m ore time.
T he m em ory is the m em ory about God and G od’s people, about
the sum m ons o f ancient Israel and the baptism o f the early church,
ab out Jesus and the people o f Jesus from his tim e until o u r time.
T hat m em ory is about births given to barren women, bread given to
desperate peasants, shepherds given to scattered sheep, forgiveness
given to those im m obilized by guilt. It is about deep inversions and

strange power for daring obedience. This m em ory and the text that
conveys this m em ory are the source and subject of o u r preaching.
But the m em ory aro u n d which the congregational gathering
takes place is also som ewhat distorted. In my own work I have stud
ied th e m em ories o f David to show how those m em ories have been
variously cast a n d how they have been articulated to accom m odate
various social settings a n d social possibilities.36 T he m em ory may be
enm eshed in a nostalgic longing for norm alcy and “the good old
days” when life was sim ple an d agrarian, settled, and well ordered.
T h at nostalgia is all intertw ined with evangelical memory, so th at the
nostalgia has a vague religious feeling about it. T here is a n eed to
sort o u t the norm ative m em ory from this o th er vague yearning.
T h e presen t situation o f the congregation needs careful atten
tion. It is usually a situation o f considerable affluence (even if some
p resen t are n o t affluent). T he affluent ones are the ones who are
co m p eten t an d know how to generate incom e and move through
the chairs to the seats o f power. But the affluence and com petence
we treasure so m uch are m atched by a profound fear—th at the dol
lar will collapse, th at the bom b will explode, that we will be overrun
by im m igrants. T h e affluence-com petence factor invites us to “stand
tall” a n d be secure; the fear syndrom e underm ines o u r confidence,
and we live o u r days in an inarticulate uneasiness. This interface of
affluence-com petence an d fear distorts public issues. T he m atters of
com passion an d “justice for all” th at are em bedded in o u r public
conscience have becom e shriveled. O u r fear drives us to selfishness,
greed, and vengeance. A long with public failure, we find an erosion
o f o u r personal sense o f life, a restlessness that generates anxiety that
drives us to greed an d finally to despair that things w on’t really work
out. O u r actual experience o f our com m on life is no t rem ote from
the alienation o f Marx, the technical rationality o f Weber, an d the
norm lessness o f D urkheim .
T h ere are many things to celebrate in this new world o f com
peten ce an d technical security. It boggles the m ind to think how
different we are from o u r grandparents and how m uch b etter off
we are. But we are dimly aware that this new m ode o f life we value so
m uch has caused us to jettiso n m uch that we previously valued. It is
odd th at the old festivals o f solidarity wane, yet there is a persistent
h u n g er for such occasions o f solidarity. Old patterns o f familial and
36. Walter Brueggemann, David’s Truth (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985).

liturgical gatherings are less and less com pelling in o u r society. O ur

young people ask about roles and careers, b u t vocation seems like an
obsolete idea. We surprise ourselves w hen we entertain brutality as a
policy option in the world, and vengeance now seems acceptable if
aim ed at the right people. We have becom e people we did n o t in
tend to becom e, and we are no t fully convinced that this is who we
want to be. Given o u r perception o f the world, however, th at is who
we n eed to be if we are to “succeed” according to the norm s we have
em braced.
Such a com m unity gathers for the act of interpretation. Even if
we have never heard o f the word “m odernity,” we sense in inartic
ulate ways that we em body m uch that is “m o d ern .” M uch has been
lost to us, even if m uch is gained. We gather to see if we can hold
the gain and yet recover what is lost. We gather to see if the world
o f vocation and tradition, o f birth and bread, o f shepherds an d for
giveness can be m ediated to us in the m idst of our disproportionate
affluence and fear. We do no t want to discard the old memory, as
o u r m odern world wants to do, bu t we do no t want a flat reiteration
o f the old m em ory that pretends we are n o t affluent and n o t afraid.
We do not want simply a nostalgia that does no t touch any o f the
real problem s, the ethics of our affluence and the m oral dilem m a o f
o u r fear. We yearn for a responsive, assertive, imaginative act of in
terpretation that recasts the m em ory in bold ways that will transform
o u r situation.
O u r discussion thus far suggests a convergence o f four m ajor fac
tors in the act o f interpretation. These reflect, on the one hand, our
presen t general intellectual situation and, on the o th er hand, the
specific situation o f the church. I find it rem arkable that these four
factors, which are drawn from very different aspects o f contem po
rary th o ught and life, should so powerfully intersect in relation to
o u r interpretative responsibility.
1. The textual process itself is an act o f regular recasting that includes both
faith and vested interest.
2. The sociological tradition in its classic presentations concerns the problem

of alienation (M arx), the problematic of rationality (Weber), and the
emergence of normlessness (Durkheim). All of these conditions are
part of the modern world, and we know them all firsthand.
3. The task of interpretation is the task o f the community to mediate the

tradition in ways that construe a new world, that permit a new ethic
among us.
4. The congregation is gathered to see if the old memory can be articu

lated in ways that reconfigure our present social reality of affluence
and com petence, o f fear and brutality, of resdessness and despair.
T h e preaching m o m en t is a m om ent o f great complexity, great dan

ger, an d great possibility. Present in that m om ent are the textual
process, the sociological realities, the act o f interpretation, and the
waiting congregation. Such a m om ent requires a strategy through
which a new com m unity m ight be sum m oned to a fresh identity and
a bold vocation.
Options in Social Construction

T he p reach er in the act o f interpretation and proclam ation o f the
tex t is engaged in w orld making. I find it m ost helpful to appeal to
the phrase o f P eter Berger and Thom as Luckm ann, “the social con
struction o f reality.”37 T h e com m unity authorizes special persons to
h ead and oversee th e process o f social construction. In o u r context,
the m inister (usually ordained) is authorized to lead the com m unity
o f faith in its construction o f reality. Such an act is an ongoing pro
cess o f education and nurture, especially in liturgy.38 This liturgical
articulation is presented as objectively true. W hen it is also received
in this way, this liturgically presented world may be internalized by
m em bers o f the com m unity as “m ine.” Thus the process o f appropri
ation includes th e public action of the com m unity and the personal
internalization by the individual m em bers who participate in the
liturgy.
T h e second awareness from Berger and Luckm ann is that the
“life-world” so constructed is always underway and m ust be modified.
New data, fresh perspectives, new experiences, and changed circum
stances require recasting the life-world to keep it credible. If it is not
regularly recast, the “old world” becomes disengaged from experi
ence so that it m ust eith er live in protected, uncritical space (where
it will be irrelevant) o r be jettisoned as dead. It is the ongoing act
37. Peter L. Berger and Thomas Luckmann, The Social Construction of Reality (New
York: Doubleday, 1966).
38. O n constructive work in education, see Jack L. Seymour, Robert T. O ’Gorman,
and Charles R. Foster, The Church in the Education of the Public (Nashville: Abingdon,
1984), 134-56. More generally on the constructive work of imagination, see Paul W.
Pruyser, The Play of Imagination (Madison, Conn.: International Universities Press,
1983), chap. 4 and passim.
o f interpretation th at recasts the life-world to keep the text credible.

T he preacher is engaged with the biblical texts in both elem ents, to
sustain the act of appropriation and to engage in the ongoing recasting
to keep the text credible. **
This m eans th at the purpose o f interpretation and preaching is
to present a life-world that is credible, th at can be appropriated, and
o u t o f which the com m unity is authorized an d perm itted to live a dif
feren t kind o f life. As the text itself is a responsive, assertive, creative
act, so the interpretation o f the text is also a responsive, assertive,
creative act. T he purpose of the serm on is to provide a world in
which the congregation can live. Indeed, the preacher is intention
ally designated precisely to m ediate a world that comes out o f this
text th at endures through the generations. T hat world the preacher
m ediates is one possible world out of many that could be offered.
T he offer o f this world com petes with o th er offers m ade by capital
ism, by militarism, by psychology o f various kinds, by health clubs,
by autom obiles, by beers, an d so on. Moreover, it is a possible world
am ong m any that m ight be articulated ou t o f the Bible, so it makes
a difference if the text m ediated is a Mosaic o r a Solom onic text.
Scholarship has found it helpful to speak of a typology of inter
pretative postures. We may speak o f a prim ary decision, so that the
interpretative act is either transformative or stabilizing, in the ser
vice o f discontinuity o r in the service o f equilibrium .39 T he basis for
that m odel is rooted in the social history o f ancient Israel and is
evidenced textually in the Old Testam ent tension between the trans
formative vision o f Moses, which belonged to the earliest voice of
liberated Israel, and the stabilizing tendency o f royal theology, which
sought to build institutions an d establish a reliable social structure.40
W hen the texts are read sociologically, this interpretative issue of
transform ation/equilibrium is enorm ously helpful. This Old Testa
m en t paradigm (as N orm an Gottwald has show n)41 has im portant
parallels to a Marxist class analysis, to W eber’s construct o f charism a
39. Friedrichs (A Sociology of Sociology) shows how the tension of transformation

and equilibrium has operated in sociology. Concerning Old Testament study, see
Walter Brueggemann, “A Shape for Old Testament Theology, I: Structure Legiti
mation,” CBQ 47 (1985): 28-46; idem, “A Shape for Old Testament Theology, II:
Embrace of Pain,” CBQ 47 (1985): 395-415 (both are reprinted in Walter Brueg
gemann, Old Testament Theology: Essays in Structure, Theme, and Text [Minneapolis:
Fortress, 1992], chaps. 1 and 2).
40. See chap. 1, above.
41. See Gottwald (Tribes of Yahweh, chap. 50) on the interface between his m ethod
and the classical traditions of sociology. See my presentation o f the paradigm
The Social Nature o f the Biblical Text for Preaching 2Π
a n d bureaucracy, and, I should suggest, also to F erdinand Toennies's

typology o f Gemeinschaft an d Gesellschafl.42 T he text itself in the Old
Testam ent reflects this tension. T he radical vision of Mosaic faith is
in deep tension with the royal enterprise subsequently developed.
The tension exists between texts with different social locations.43
T h e act o f in terp retatio n can and inevitably m ust deal with the ways
in which the text destabilizes and transforms or the ways in which the
text stabilizes an d gives equilibrium . How the text is in terp reted by
th e p reach er an d how the text is received in the congregation may
d ep en d on the vested interest of both preacher an d congregation,
which may o r may n o t adhere to the position o f the text itself. Texts
may transform and stabilize. Sometimes the same text may function
eith er to transform or stabilize, depending on context, interest, and
in terpretation. Text a n d /o r interpretation offer a world o f transfor
m ation o r equilibrium th at enhances or dim inishes a particular view
o f social reality. It is in the nature o f the act o f interpretation and
therefore o f p reaching to participate in these world-making acts,
eith er knowingly o r unwittingly.
In w hat follows, I present a typology of texts through which var
ious texts will be in terpreted. It is, of course, the case th at the texts
themselves are never as clear and unam biguous as is the typology.
T h e typology is useful only to the extent that it helps us see specific
texts afresh; it should never be im posed on texts.
T he text can be an act of good faith because both transform a
tion an d stabilization are faithful acts of God and bo th m eet deep
hu m an yearnings, b u t the m ediation o f either comes through the
vested interest o f th e preacher. W hether the preacher will m ediate
a world o f transform ation or equilibrium depends on m any things,
including w hat the p reacher reads, with whom the p reacher eats, the
econom ic history o f the preacher, and m uch else.
T he texts will be received by the congregation as an act o f faith.
People do com e to church to hear and respond. T he reception o f a
m ediation o f eith er transform ation or equilibrium happens through
th e interpretative receptivity o f the congregation. W hat happens,
of the two trajectories in tension, Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination

42. Ferdinand Toennies, Community and Society, trans. C. P. Loomis (1887; reprint,
New York: H arper and Row, 1963).
43. Robert R. Wilson has pursued the same textual paradigm with a typology of
central and peripheral prophets. Following Wilson’s language, one may say there
are texts that are “central” and those that are “peripheral” (Prophecy and Society in
Ancient Israel [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1980]).
w hat the text can “do,” depends on the propensity o f the congre
gation. T h at will be determ ined by many factors, bu t they include
w here and how the congregation is socially situated; what travels
have been taken; w hat p art o f the world has been seen; how marfy
m em bers have experienced poverty, unem ploym ent, crim e, and all
sorts o f social disruption; or, conversely, the strength o f the social
equilibrium in the experience and horizon of the congregation. All
o f these factors im pinge in powerful, subtle, and com plex ways upon
the interchange o f text, preacher, and congregation. In the m idst of
the interchange, a new world may be m ediated.
In presenting the world o f the text to the congregation, the
p reacher has, according to this typology, fo u r possible strategies. T he
typology assumes that the text may be an offer o f transform ation o r
stability and that the congregation is likely to be in a situation of
transform ation or stability. T he available strategies in establishing an
interface between the text-world and the congregation are these:
1. To present “a world o f transform ation” to those who yearn and
h o p e for transform ation. This is done when oppressed o r m arginal
ized people are invited to hope for the basic changes of social reality
th at are given in the texts o f transform ation.
2. To present “a world o f equilibrium ” to those who wait and
yearn for transform ation. This is done w hen oppressed o r m arginal
ized people are invited to accept and participate in the present
regim e as their p ro p er duty and their only hope. The present order
is th en presented as the best chance for any change, b u t it will be
change within that o rd e r that is accepted as nonnegotiable.
S. To present “a world o f transform ation” to those who value the
status quo and do n o t want the world changed. This is w hen those
who benefit from present social arrangem ents are called, in the face
o f th at benefit, to subm it to change as the will and work o f God.
4. To present “a world of equilibrium ” to those who crave equi
librium and regard the present social world as the best o f all possible
worlds, a world decreed by God. This is done when religion becom es
a com fortable endorsem ent o f the status quo.44
Each of these strategies is possible, and each reflects a decision
ab out the thrust o f the biblical text and how that thrust is to be
related to the actual situation of the church.
44. The presentation of a religious world of equilibrium to those who crave equi
librium is what Marx referred to with his famous characterization of religion as “the
opiate of the people.”
Each o f these fo u r strategies is possible, and, on form al grounds,

each is biblical. It is equally clear that the gospel gives criteria to sort
o u t the various strategies and to see that all the possible strategies
are n o t equally legitim ate for genuine evangelical proclam ation. T he
p reach er is sum m oned by the gospel to present an imaginative word
th at lives “out beyond” an d challenges the taken-for-granted world
o f the congregation.
In presenting this typology, I am aware that the actual situation
o f any congregation is enorm ously complex. In every congregation
th ere are those who welcome change, those who resist change, and
those who are unsure. Moreover, there are various kinds o f changes,
each o f which needs to be critically assessed. In addition, various
preachers an d pastors are inclined either to welcome o r to resist
change, and th at helps shape interpretation and preaching. My dis
cussion intends n o t to deny o r disregard all o f that complexity, which
m ust be h o n o re d a n d taken seriously.
For purposes o f clarity, however, in what follows I have chosen
to deal only with th e third and fourth elem ents o f this typology. My
sense is th at these dim ensions of interpretation bear particularly on
th e typical N orth A m erican congregation. A church that does no t
w ant the world changed will be offered either a text-world o f trans
form ation th at calls the present into question (no. 3 above) o r a
text-world th at celebrates equilibrium (no. 4 above). To be sure,
th ere are times in such a congregation when equilibrium is legiti
m ate and a genuine offer o f the text, bu t for now we have posed the
question in an o th er way. T he preacher thus may appeal to texts that
offer eith er equilibrium o r transform ation and in doing so m ust pay
attention to th e possible hearing of the gospel that will occur in the
congregation if th e text is heard as an abrasion o r as an assurance.
T he im p o rtan t interpretative point is that the text should be kept
in conversation with what the congregation already knows and be
lieves. At times, the purpose o f interpretation is to evoke fresh faith
for a n o th er world from that which the com m unity already knows and
believes. In the typical N orth American situation, it is often the case
th at the text should be interpreted to make available an imaginative
world o u t beyond the one to which the congregation now clings.
M ore often this is so because such congregations tend to be ideo
logically trap p ed in a social world at odds with the gospel. But this
in terp retatio n that calls for newness may, nevertheless, appeal to the
d eep and serious faith latent in the church.
In a world o f war an d violence, for example, equilibrium is no t
objectively true b u t is in fact an imaginative act o f interpretation that

has been established and accepted as true. T he interpretative issue
is w hether to ally the gospel with that already accepted, m ediated
world o r to propose an alternative that may “ring true” b u t also ^ill
surely evoke conflict.
T he strategy o f the p reacher then is to use texts in ways th at legit
im ate the present perceived life-world o r to present a life-world that
puts people in crisis by offering a challenge to their present view
and posing an alternative. Both are needed, b u t different em phases
probably need to be m ade in various circumstances.
W hatever strategy is undertaken, it is m ost im portant that the
preacher—and hopefully the congregation—is aware th at good
preaching (which is an act of inventive world-construction) is funda
mentally opposed to two tendencies in o u r culture. It is opposed to
a false kind o f objectivity that assumes the world is a closed, fixed,
fated given. T hat assum ption of objectivity is a great tem ptation to
us, w hether the claim is given in the nam e o f religious orthodoxy
o r in the nam e o f technological certitude. An evangelical under
standing o f reality asserts instead that all of o u r presum ed givens are
provisional and open to newness, a newness that may be enacted in
the event of preaching.
T he o th er tendency to which good preaching is opposed is a kind
o f subjectivity that assumes we are free o r able to conjure up private
worlds that may exist in a dom esticated sphere w ithout accountabil
ity to o r im pingem ent from the larger public world. Such a powerful
deception am ong us seems to offer happiness, bu t it is essentially
abdication from the great public issues that shape our hum anness.
T he preaching task is to be critical and challenging in ways that
expose o u r present life-world as inadequate, unfaithful, and finally
flat. This is to be done, however, in ways that n eith er becom e ideo
logical n o r simply term inate the conversation. Preaching is aim ed
n o t simply at this or that ethical issue bu t seeks to cut u n d ern eath
particular issues to the unreasoned, unexam ined, and unrecognized
“structures of plausibility” th at are operative in the congregation.
Such preaching is also to offer reassurance about the coherence of
reality, but a reassurance th at is not a legitim ation o f present ar
rangem ents but an act o f hope about an o th er life-world available in
the gospel. T hat life-world could offer the joy for which we yearn,
which the present life-world cannot give. This offer of an o th er world
is the prim ary work o f the gospel, fo r the gospel is news o f an o th er
world. T he articulation of th at o th er world is unavoidably a critique
The Social N ature o f the Biblical Text fo r Preaching
o f an d challenge to every present world. This “o ther world" dial is

an n o u n ced in a n d m ediated by the gospel is no t other-worldly in the
sense th at it is in the rem ote future, in heaven, after death, or ‘'spiri
tual.” Rather, th e o th er world is now “at han d ” (Mark 1:15). It re in s
to the p resen t rule o f G od that calls us to a new obedience now uml
th at releases us from every o ther obedience in the here and now, for
th e sake o f G od’s sovereign rule.
Texts o f equilibrium are im portant to the form ation o f a new life-
world. T h e creation narrative-liturgy o f Gen. l:l-2:4a is such a text.
It asserts th at the world is ordered, is good, belongs to God, and
is therefore reliable. W hen, according to critical study, that text is
set in the exile as an affirm ation to Israelites and a polem ic against
Babylonian im perialism and Babylonian gods, the social function of
th at equilibrium emerges. T he Genesis text asserts that the world
belongs to God a n d therefore n o t to Babylon, no t to its gods or its
rulers. Moreover, G od rests and Israel is m andated to rest. T hat m an
date asserts th at Israelites in exile need n o t be endlessly anxious and
frantic to becom e secure or to please Babylon bu t can rest in G od’s
sure rule. Thus th e text offers a world o f well-ordered stability and
equilibrium , in which Israel is invited to live. T hat well-ordered sta
bility is n o t neutral, however, b u t is a counterequilibrium that invites
Israel to break with seductive Babylonian offers o f stability and equi
librium th at can n o t be true because the world does n o t belong to
Babylon. T he com m unity that lives within this text is given stability
b u t also is sum m oned to a freedom outside Babylonian definitions o f
reality. T h at is, by an act o f im agination, creation theology becomes
a w arrant for what the em pire would regard as civil disobedience.45
T he capacity o f exiled Israel to act freely depends on its acceptance
o f the world o f this text. T he text responds to exile, asserts against
Babylon, an d im agines an alternative world of faith in which life is
possible. T he congregation may be invited to sense what an uncom
m on act o f im agination this text is that dares to say that the world
belongs to Yahweh who is a God of rest and order, dares to say it
even to exiles whose life is disordered and restless.
Texts of transform ation are equally im portant for a new life-
world. T he healing-feeding narrative of Elijah in 1 Kings 17:8-24 is
such a text.46 It is a text o f disruption. It tells about this strange for
45. Fishbane (Biblical Interpretation, 322-26) has shown how Second Isaiah is a
reinterpretation o f Genesis 1 for quite specific purposes in a polemical situation.
46. On the text, see chap. 11, below.
m idable m an of inexplicable power who comes into the life o f a p oor

widow. H e deals with h e r poverty by giving h er food. H e deals with
death by raising h er son to life. And the widow, the narrator, an d
finally we perceive him as a b earer of the pow er for life. This t^Xt
evokes a question about this power, where it is available, an d on what
terms. T he narrative asserts that power for life is n o t given through
the royal regim e b u t by this uncredentialed outsider.
This story destabilizes. It shatters the poverty-stricken, death-
ridden world o f the widow. It breaks h er assum ptions a n d h er habits.
If we listen attentively to the story when it is well told, it will also
break our conventional assumptions, for it announces th at the world
is n o t the way we thought it was. T he critical effect o f the n arra
tive is to delegitim ate the king and his deathly rule and to invite us
to an o th er rule u n d e r the God o f life. But the story o f disruption
also turns ou t to be a story o f affirmation. It asserts th at power is
available, that life can be given, that food is offered.
Thus the story responds to the failure o f Ahab an d his gover
nance. It asserts an alternative reality against A hab’s world. By an
act o f im agination, a story o f feeding and a story o f healing have
been mobilized as vehicles for a different life-world. The narrative in
vites the listening com m unity into a new arena o f existence in which
G od’s power for life has enorm ous vitality for new possibility, even
though it is untam ed and unadm inistered an d we cannot harness
an d m anage it on o u r terms.
Every text proposes a life-world that may counter ours. Texts o f
equilibrium are needed to give people a sense o f order, bu t such
texts as Gen. l:l-2:4a turn ou t to be invitations to transform ation.
Texts o f transform ation are needed to give people hope that there
is possibility outside present circumstances. But such texts as 1 Kings
17:8-24 tu rn out to be invitations to a new equilibrium w rought only
by the gospel. Texts of both equilibrium and transform ation are
needed. Both cases require not only the capacity to respond and
assert bu t also the capacity for im agination in o rd er to let these
texts becom e truly effective. Characteristically they invite the listen
ing com m unity o u t beyond the presum ed world to a new world of
freedom , joy, and obedience.47
47. The original publication of this essay included a sermon on 1 Kings 8:1-13,
27-30, together with exegetical comments and postsermon reflections.
1 1 ___________________________
The Prophet as a
Destabilizing Presence
B o t h TRADITIONAL CONSERVATIVES an d conventional lib

erals m isunderstand the prophetic dim ension of Israel’s faith. T he
former, in my ju d g m en t, tend to make too m uch o f the predictive
elem ent, as though the prophets are forecasting, with particular ref
erence to Jesus. T he latter tend to understand the prophets primarily
in term s o f social action and righteous indignation. Both m isunder
standings have an elem ent o f truth. It is true, on the one hand, that
th e prophets do care about the future, and they do believe that in
th e future, God will bring the historical process to obedience. O n
the o th er han d , th e prophets do care intensely about the m oral
shape o f society, so they assault every social disorder. I have tried to
articulate an alternative understanding o f the prophets th at reflects
the cu rren t inclinations o f scholarship1 and that I hope is useful for
the practice o f pastoral ministry in our own context.
The Prophets
My im pression is that the m ost helpful study of the prophets ju st
now is an analysis o f the social systems o f ancient Israel th at “con
struct reality” in various ways. T hat is, the prophets are n o t isolated
1. For statements on the inclinations of scholarship, see the excellent books by

Joseph Blenkinsopp, A History of Prophecy in Israel (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1983);
and Klaus Koch, The Prophets: The Assyrian Age (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982).
221
individuals b u t can best be understood in term s o f the organization

o f society and the perform ance of certain social roles.2 A lthough the
im plications o f what I have to say apply to the prophets generally, I{
take as my text the Elijah narrative. I am prim arily concerned with
the ways in which this narrative reflects, serves, and challenges social
organization.
1. As the prophets understand it, society consists in an organiza
tion o f social power. This may refer variously to land, money, hardware,
technology.
2. The organization o f social power is derived from an d depen
d e n t on the management, control, and articulation of social symbols that,
in o u r day, may be understood as access to the media. In that day,
this process was largely m anaged and controlled by the tem ple com
munity, which was the center o f symbolic life. Thus, the priests held
enorm ous power, perhaps analogous to the power o f the m edia in
o u r context.
3. T he organization o f social power an d the adm inistration of
social symbols were intim ately linked together. Each reinforces and
legitimates the other. T he two together constitute a social system that
orders, defines, values, and legitimates all life. It seeks to contain and
m onopolize all social m eanings and all social possibilities. It inclines
to be effective at delivery of a “good life” for those who participate
in an d support the system. Such support is given through a variety of
modes: political conformity, econom ic solidarity, ritual commonality,
epistemological assent, m oral coherence. T he system works well for
all those who accept its definitions o f reality.
T he upshot of such a social achievem ent (which it is) is th at “the
system is the solution” for all social needs and hopes. Indeed, no th
ing of worth falls outside the system, so th at the social system comes
to be identified as being equivalent to reality. This is particularly evi
d e n t in creation theology, which speaks of “creation” b u t often seems
to refer to a certain social system that is assigned ontological status as
the em bodim ent o f what the creator intended.3 Both the m anagers
an d the benefactors o f the system tend to absolutize the system, to
2. An im portant book on the subject is Robert R. Wilson, Prophecy and Society in

Ancient Israel (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1980). Scholars are increasingly noticing that
as one talks about “organizations of society,” one may observe that a variety of things
can be “organized" in partisan ways. Note the suggestive titles by Bernhard Lang,
“The Social Organization of Peasant Poverty in Biblical Israel,” JSOT 24 (1982):
47-63, and Gary Alan Herion, “The Social Organization of Tradition in Monarchic
Judah” (Ph.D. diss., University of Michigan, 1982).
3. See Walter Brueggemann, “A Shape for Old Testament Theology, I: Struc-
The Prophet as a Destabilizing Presence 223
preclude alternative notions of reality. Indeed, alternative notions o f

reality constitute a threat, for they assert that this way o f organizing
social pow er an d social goods is no t an absolute given b u t only a
historical contrivance. T he goal o f the m anagers and benefactors is
to stabilize the system so that it is no t noticed th at it is a system, so
th at it seems it is the only reality, the only possible, thinkable reality.
A nd if no o th er social reality is thinkable o r possible, th e n criticism
o f this one tends to be precluded. Thus, m ost participants in and
benefactors o f th e system do n o t notice th at it is a m anaged, con
trived system to which there are alternatives. They notice only that
th ere is a reality to b e trusted, valued, and adhered to. T he result is
th at there is a kind o f positivism that treats the social organization o f
pow er an d symbols as an absolute given, “as it was in the beginning,
is now, an d ever shall be.” T hat system is deeply valued because it
com es to its ad h erents as though the only alternative to this system
is chaos, w hich is experienced practically as the loss of advantage.
Destabilizing Presence
T he p ro p h etic task in such a social world is to m aintain a destabiliz
ing presence, so th at the system is not equated with reality, so that
alternatives are thinkable, so that the absolute claims o f the system
can be criticized. Thus, the destabilizing effort o f the prophets takes
as its responsibility the attem pt to counter the powerful forces o f sta
bilization th at are at work am ong the participants an d benefactors
o f the social system.
O ne may identify a ground and an impetus for this vocation o f
destabilization. T he g round for such destabilization is n o t that the
p ro p h ets are simply “angry young m en,” filled with righteous indig
nation, who like to “go o ff’ on people. T he ground is that they have
an alternative p erception o f social reality that they insist is true an d
fo r which they want to create working space and allow for social
possibility to em erge. T hat alternative perception o f reality puts the
p resum ed world o f the reg n an t system in jeopardy. Such an alterna
tive percep tio n serves, by definition, to destabilize precisely w hen the
alternative is stated o r acted with clarity, so that the contrast is sharp.
T h e contrast may be betw een the rule of God who liberates and the
ture Legitimation,” CBQ 47 (1985): 28-46 (reprinted in Walter Brueggemann, Old

Testament Theology: Essays on Structure, Theme, and Text [Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992]).
rule o f idols that enslave, between the com ing reign of God that in
vades and the present regim e th at sustains, between the yearning for
justice an d the experience o f injusdce. But note well, the prophetic
is n o t understood primarily as denunciation o r rejection, unless it is *
clear th at there is a positive alternative available that, in fact, is true,
gives life, and really functions.
T he destabilization th at results from such a powerful contrast
may o r may n o t be overt political action. O n occasion, the prophets
did speak directly about policy issues (perhaps m ost noticeably, Isa
iah). But m ost often, the prophets issue a gesture o r word that
intends to play on the im agination of the community.4 T he prelim i
nary p o in t I want to m ake here is that prophecy is no t in any overt,
concrete sense political o r social action. It is ra th e r an assault on pub
lic imagination, aim ed at showing that the present presum ed world is
n o t absolute, but that a thinkable alternative can be im agined, char
acterized, and lived in. T he destabilization is, then, n o t revolutionary
overthrow, b u t it is m aking available an alternative im agination that
makes one aware that the presum ed world is im agined, n o t given.
Thus, the prophetic is an alternative to a positivism th at is incapable
o f alternative, uneasy with critique, and so inclined to conformity.
T he ground for such an alternative picture o f reality is the sov
ereign rule o f God. T he prophets, skilled as they are with word
pictures, relentlessly insist that the entire world m ust be im agined
differently because o f G od’s sovereignty.
Now it may seem that I have staked out a m odest claim for the
prophetic, that I have given away m ost of the great ideas for which
“p rophetic ministry” is em braced. My response is that first we need
to look at what the poets of Israel do, and then we n eed to look
at w hat is going on in our society. T he truth is th at because o f the
enorm ous fear in o u r social context, o u r governm ent an d its allies
have constructed for us a fanciful world o f fear, threat, security, and
well-being that has little contact with the data at hand. B ut because
we are m anagers and benefactors of the system, we find it easy and
n atural to accept this im agined world as real.
So the ground for prophetic destabilization is the alternative
tru th about the rule o f God th at gives the lie to our presum ed
worlds. T he im m ediate impetus for m uch o f the prophetic is the
visible and daily presence o f powerless and disenfranchised people.
4. I have explored some o f the implications of this in The Prophetic Imagination

The Prophet as a Destabilizing Presence 22 5
R obert Wilson, am ong others, has explored how this factor generates
voices o f destabilization. The socially critical point is that the social
system th at claims to be the solution is, in fact, a solution for some
at the expense o f others. As the system empowers and secures some,
it renders others powerless and marginalizes them . T he ideological
claim o f th e system is th at it cares for all and provides for all. So the
p resident can assert th at a m an losing his jo b in South Succotash is
“n o t news.” Or, th e p resident’s aide can say that h e knows o f no real
data concerning hungry children. T he system n o t only creates such
d isproportion, b u t th en it also creates a set o f lenses so th at we look
an d genuinely do n o t see (Isa. 6:9-10).
Israel’s sense of the historical process is that the voices of the
excluded can n o t be silenced. They can be adm inistered for a long
time, b u t they will n o t be silenced. They can be adm inistered for a
long time, b u t they will n o t be finally nullified. They will cry out. And
w hen they cry out, they constitute an attack on the system and in fact
a delegitim ation, for they assert th at the system is n o t working, is n o t
giving life, is n o t keeping its promises.
T h e pro p h ets o f the Old Testam ent discern a peculiar linkage
betw een th e tru th o f G od’s rule and the voice of the marginal. The
fo rm er gives the long-term ground; the latter gives the im m ediate im
petus. T h at gro u n d o f G od’s sure rule an d the im petus o f a voice o f
m arginality constitute the alternative world o f the prophets. W hen
this is m obilized against the dom inant im agination, it makes a power
ful alternative. T he prophets intend that the participants in the
d o m in an t system should h ear enough to transform the system. But
th eir characteristic experience is that assault on im agination drives
system people only d ee p er into their closed im agination.5 T he help
lessness o f the p ro phets is th at they cannot penetrate this dom inant
im agination when it is finally hardened. T hen the question is sim
ply w h ether th at closed im agination can finally fend off the truth of
God and th e cry o f neighbor. In every particular circum stance, this
question is always quite open and yet to be decided.
5. A. Vanlier H unter (Seek the Lord [Baltimore: St. Mary’s Seminary and Uni
versity, 1982]) has dem onstrated that consistently the prophets do not appeal for
repentance. What appears to be such an appeal is characteristically reference to an
earlier appeal that has been rejected. The old appeal for repentance regularly leads
to a conclusion of judgm ent. In the present form of the prophetic text, it is the
speech of judgm ent that overrides every possibility of serious repentance.
The Elijah Narrative

Now with that general background, we may consider three episodes
from the Elijah narrative. T he Elijah narrative is a rem arkable piece
in 1 Kings (17-21), with accom panying pieces on Micaiah (1 Kings
22) and Elisha (2 Kings 1-10). These narratives form a distinct cor
pus in the literature of 1 and 2 Kings, clearly contrasted both to
the usual royal form ula and to the D euteronom istic editing, for
there is alm ost no such m arking on these texts. It is com m only
presum ed, as I do here, that these narratives are older than their
royal-historiographic context.6 It is likely that they were preserved
an d treasured in som ething o f a folk culture and reflect such a com
m unity o f storytelling. But I should also insist th at the stories in their
very character are no t simply for entertainm ent but in fact perform
an im portant critical function. T hat is, the rath er primitive quality
o f the narrative n o t only reflects a socially primitive community. It
also reflects a socially m arginal com m unity that has k ept its distance
from the reason, language, and epistemology o f the dom inant cul
ture. It has, I suggest, fashioned a reason, a language m ode, and an
epistemology resonant with its social, political, and econom ic situa
tion. These narratives, in their very m ode, enact marginality. They
perform an im portant social function, to state an alternative reality
apart from the dom inant reality. T hat social function is no t created
by placing these narratives in the context o f the book of Kings but
was the point of the narratives in their very first telling. T he n arra
tives are told, treasured, and practiced precisely in this com m unity
th at wants to keep its freedom from the cultural perceptions o f the
royal system.
Now in saying this, I am urging that we read these texts with a
kind o f social responsiveness n o t ho n o red by the historical-critical
m ethods. Ask n o t what these texts m ean, or even w hat they say, as
though one may arrive at a conclusion and then summarize. Rather,
ask what these texts do, in their inception and each time in their
6. Among the im portant studies o f the Elijah narratives are the following:
L. Bronner, The Stories of Elijah and Elisha, Pretoria Oriental Series 6 (Leiden:
Brill, 1968); Georg Fohrer, Elia, ATANT 53 (Zurich: Zwingli, 1968); Odil H. Steck,
Llberlieferung und Zeitgeschichte im. der Elia-Erzahlungen, WMANT 26 (Neukirchen-Vluyn:
Neukirchener Verlag, 1968); and R. S. Wallace, Elijah and Elisha (London: Oliver
and Boyd, 1957). Two books that are not so critically disciplined but that are im
portant for the sort o f argum ent made here are Jacques Ellul, The Politics of God and
the Politics of Man (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1972), and Davie Napier, Word of God,
Word of Earth (New York: United Church Press, 1976).
retelling. I argue that they propose to us an alternative world in

which to live. They invite us to try it and for the m om ent to with
draw o u r intense allegiance to the world defined by the system. T he
stories have as th eir function to loosen our tight com m itm ents to the
life-world o f o u r vested interests and for a m om ent to perceive the
world differently.
T he use o f these stories by the D euteronom istic presentation o f
1 an d 2 Kings is com plex. I have drawn the conclusion th at the Deu
teronom istic editors were no t fully contained in the royal world but
m o u n t a massive criticism against it.7 O ne g round for that massive
criticism is precisely these stories that hold ou t an alternative. Thus,
even the D euteronom istic Historian may have understood that these
narratives function to unm ask and debunk the royal system. It may
be for th at reason that they occupy such a p ro m in en t place in the
historical account.
O n e o f the interesting questions for scholarship today is that
these are p ro p h etic texts.8 O ur usual way is to take the personal
ity o f th e p ro p h e t as an exam ple o f what we are to do. So, in the
case o f Elijah, we consider how, in our situation, we may act like
th at pro p h et. T h ere may be som ething in that approach. T he prob
lem th at scholars now detect is that it is an appeal o f the exam ple
o f a person w hen in fact what we have is the m odel o f a text. Cur
re n t scholarship wants to argue th at our role, insofar as these texts
are concerned, is n o t th at we should replicate the person of Elijah
b u t th at we should handle the text so that it can have its say in the
community.
T he faith o f the church is no t vested in the person o f Elyah.
But it is staked very m uch on the claim o f the text. So one will
w ant to keep in m ind that our tradition does no t sum m on us to be
p ro p h ets b u t to let the prophetic text have its continued say am ong
us. To let this text have its continued say is to let it be a continuing
voice o f destabilization in a tightly ordered system, for that was its
prim ary an d original function. This leads m e to a consideration of
three episodes in three texts that characterize three dim ensions of
p ro p h etic destabilization.
7. See my expository comments in I Kings (Atlanta: Jo h n Knox, 1982) and II

Kings (Atlanta: John Knox, 1982).
8. T he most im portant impetus in this direction comes from canonical criticism,
especially the work o f Brevard Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture
(Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979), but it also reflects the increasing importance of
literary theory for Old Testament study.
Transformative Gestures of Solidarity

T he first text, as a m odel of prophetic destabilization, is in 1 Kings
17:9-24. T he narrative falls into two parts, verses 9-16 and 17-24. It is‘·
in troduced in a striking way with two significant elements:
1. T h e w o rd o f th e L o rd cam e to him ,
2. “A rise, g o to Z a re p h a th , w hich b e lo n g s to S id o n , a n d dw ell th ere .

B eh o ld , I have c o m m a n d e d a w idow th e re to fe e d y o u .”
Notice how abrupt and unaccom m odating is the directive. T he nar

rato r has no interest in accom m odating the listening community, in
providing context or continuity. It is blurted ou t in all its powerful
discontinuity. T he text is destabilizing in its form because it offers
a clean break. T he initiative o f the story holds two things in ju x ta
position. T he entire action is by the word. It is n o t explained b u t is
u n d e r com pulsion. T here is agency within the narrative th at is not
attributable to the prophet. T he word, however it is to be explained
phenom enologically, is theologically presented as destabilizing. It
breaks and it disorders life.
T he second elem ent is curious next to this awesome word. Elijah
is sent outside, outside his people, outside his norm al traffic pattern,
outside the system. T he word notices w hat lies outside the system. Eli
ja h is sent to the widow. H e is sent there to be fed by the widow. H e is
driven outside norm al support systems. H e is n o t sent there with re
sources for her. He is sent there to receive, to be given life precisely
by this o ne whom society has defined as having no life-resources. It is
n o t said that this is a testing o f Elijah. But clearly, what the sovereign
word o f Yahweh does is to drive the p ro p h e t ou t beyond everything
conventional and safe, perhaps to push him to “faith alone.”
T he widow, by definition, is poor. “Widow” is a legal category for
those w ithout social power. She has no representative in the village
council, in the m arket, in the court. She is a genuine nobody, one
whom the system is quite skillful in discounting an d nullifying. Yet
Elijah is to be fed by her. T he story is rem em bered explicitly in Luke
4:26, where Jesus talks about the reach o f G od beyond the social sys
tem. T he text seems to be strangely echoed in Jo h n 4, where Jesus
receives water from the unacceptable, disreputable wom an at the
well.
So why tell the story? Well, likely it was told am ong widows
an d people like that. They did not regard themselves as w ithout
life-resources. T he system thought so, bu t they knew better. Such

com m unities at the m argin do have strange ways in which to give life.
By being sent there, Elijah is in an act o f disengagem ent from the
d o m in an t su p p o rt system. The story functions to assert, both in the
com m unity o f th e m arginal and against the system, that the system
does n o t have a m onopoly on life. Elijah is sent to find life precisely
outside th e system.
This juxtaposition o f word and widow is im portant for the pro
phetic. It is echoed in Isa. 57:15:
F o r th u s says th e h ig h a n d lofty O n e
w ho in h a b its eternity, w hose n a m e is Holy:
I dw ell in th e h ig h a n d holy place,
a n d also w ith h im w ho is o f a c o n trite a n d h u m b le spirit,
to revive th e sp irit o f th e h u m b le,
a n d to revive th e h e a rt o f th e c o n trite.
T he God o f th e w ord dwells on high. This God speaks an d it is com

m anded. B ut this sam e one sojourns with the widow an d all those
outside the system. T he word does not leave one at rest in a safe
system b u t drives one outside to the o th er place where God dwells.
So Elijah goes (v. 10). H e is im mediately obedient to the desta
bilizing word. We n eed to learn to read the text in term s o f systems
analysis. T he im perative o f Yahweh and the response o f Elijah are a
d irect co u n ter to the worldview of the dom inant system. This woman
an d all like h e r have been nullified. They do n o t exist. They are
nonpersons, invisible, w ithout rights and w ithout power. T he social
system does n o t notice o r reckon with her. Probably King Ahab and
his advisers h ad a governm ent m em o floating aro u n d showing that
th ere really were no destitute widows. But the word noticed. (If there
is a sound o f lau g hter lurking behind these words, it is because it is
there!)
In this act o f the com m anding word and the responding prophet,
official reality is countered. These two together, Lord an d prophet,
declare official reality to be a lie. T he woman does exist. T here really
are widows. A nd in an o d d way, they have social power th at the
regim e can n o t nullify. They can be a source of life.
So Elijah goes to her. She is gathering sticks (or picking greens)
o r whatever it is th at m arginal people do to stay alive on m arginal
land. A nd Elijah says, “Fetch m e a little water” (cf. Jo h n 4:7). It is an
incredible act o f solidarity and certainly not do-good liberalism, for
he undertakes no action on h er behalf. He is p resen t to h e r at the

p o in t o f h er possibility, which officialdom had denied her. T hen he
ups the asking: “Give m e bread.” She pleads u tter poverty. She had
no bread, only a handful o f meal, a little oil, and no prospect o f a n y ‘
m ore. She knows she is to die. T he system has fixed h e r fate in that
way. Now read it as a systematically destabilizing narrative. It is an
assertion that this is social reality in Israel. T here really are people
like this. They really are going to die. H er poverty is no t because of
h e r wickedness. T here is no h in t o f that. Rather, it is because the so
cial system has m arginalized h er and failed to provide a life-support
system. Obviously then, as now, life-goods are given in adequate sup
ply only to the com petent, the productive, the well connected. She
is n o n e o f these. So the gas has been tu rn ed off in h e r house. She
shares what she has. But it is precious little.
Now we have seen that Elijah, in obedience to the word, has
m ade a striking gesture o f solidarity. H e has com e to be with her.
H e submits him self to h er circum stance. H er poverty is n o t glori
fied, b u t it is entered into as real. He quests in h er circum stance to
find a source for life. But his solidarity with h er is m ore than a ges
ture o f sympathy. It is a transformative gesture. His transformative
act is in this speech: “Do n o t fear, use the little you have.” T he litde,
in th e act o f using it, is transform ed and redescribed. In verse 14,
the litde is described according to the prom ise of God: “T he ja r of
m eal shall n o t be spent, and the cruse o f oil shall n o t fail.” And verse
15 ends tersely, “She went and did as Elijah said; an d s h e . . . ate for
many days.”
Now there is som ething mysterious, odd, primitive, an d inscru
table here. It may be only a w onder tale th at only sim plem inded
people can tell. T he story explains nothing. And n eith er shall I. The
outcom e is that the life-world o f the widow is utterly changed. W hat
h ad been a world o f death becom es a season o f life. Characteristi
cally, such narratives cannot be explained. They can only b e told and
heard, decided on, and perhaps believed. It is no t the person of Eli
ja h th at is prophetic for us. It is the narrative. It is the narrative that
asserts that the world is no t closed and the system is n o t absolute.
We recognize, of course, th at this story has parallels to the feed
ing miracles o f Jesus. T h at does n o t explain anything either. But the
stories bear witness to the same subversive reality. T he p ro p h e t is one
who has the power, the authority, and the freedom to com m it acts of
life in a world that has been defined by death. W hen th e p ro p h e t
calls the woman to “fear not,” he wrenches h er o u t o f the world of
fear, fear th at was a p ro d u c t of h er marginality. W hat is she afraid

of? Well, of death. B ut also of being despised, of being em ptied of
pow er and dignity, o f m arauding soldiers and foreclosing lawyers and
snooping social workers and loan sharks. She is set in a social world
o f terror. She is w ithout friend, w ithout advocate, utterly exposed,
an d at the m ercy o f social agents whom she cannot understand.
In the m iddle o f all this, there is holy power at work in Elijah.
B ut let us n o t spiritualize. W hat Elijah does is to break the death
grip o f the d o m in ant system. He acts against the social m onopoly of
those who control the m eans o f production. The king is supposed to
control b read and oil. Energy m ust be properly adm inistered. With
the king, it was all routine. H e was the only source. But he had failed.
T h at is what the whole narrative presumes, already with the d rought
in 17:1. T he king could n o t cope with the energy crisis. T he narrative
destabilizes because it asserts that the official forms o f power no t
only are dysfunctional b u t in fact also bring death. Life will have to
be sought an d fo u nd elsewhere, outside the system that has failed. So
a transform ative gesture o f solidarity turns ou t to be destabilizing. It
declares th at the d om inant definition of reality is null an d void. The
king cannot give life. T here are, however, sources o f life that the king
does n o t adm inister. T hose have been retained by God alone. Every
tim e this narrative is rightly told and faithfully h eard it reenacts and
replicates this nullification o f the social system. O ne can tell that
it con tin u ed to have such a power and attractiveness because Jesus
uses it in Luke 4 and assumes that his listeners will catch the point.
In Luke 4, Jesus is also seen as a destabilizing agent who renders the
known world null an d void. It is no w onder that they tried to stone
him , because he enacted the destruction o f their known world.
So a practical digression. Every community, every family, every
congregation, every person has arranged a settlem ent o f power and
weakness. We know who has social power in a family.9 We know in
o rdering o u r lives which sorts of things are ho n o red an d credited.
We learn to com pensate an d adjust so that we “lead from strength.”
We live in those patterns so long that they appear absolute. T he p ro
phetic action is to speak a “fear n o t” at the point o f weakness. W hen
th at “fear n o t” is sounded, one begins to notice new sources o f life
w here n o n e was noticed, new vitality that had been declared null
and void. We can now notice on a clear day that some forms o f so
9. See the discerning analysis of R. D. Laing, The Politics of the Family and Other
Essays (New York: Pantheon, 1971).
cial power we had trusted are in fact deeply dysfunctional. My point

is th at prophetic ministry is n o t lim ited to public policy and social
action. It belongs to the liturgy an d to pastoral care. It consists in
finding life at the weak, discounted points o f existence. W hen Yife
is spotted there, the presum ed power arrangem ents are threatened
an d destabilized because the m onopoly is broken. T he narrative in
vites us into a crisis in which old power arrangem ents are failed
and new ones are being h o n o red and found functional. A nd it is
w rought by a “fear not” spoken at the m om ent o f helplessness, a
speech-promise th at opens an alternative world.
Well, Elijah should have left then. H e would have been ahead.
But he did no t get away in time. Soon the m other com es with h er
final loss. Now she has lost n o t m eal or oil, bu t h er only son, prob
ably h e r only reason to scratch for life from day to day. She blames
the prophet. Maybe you are good at giving m eal and oil, she says.
But you m ust also be the one who is a child-killer. It is odd reason
ing. Perhaps the m other is hysterical. O r perhaps she senses what
a destabilizing force he is and does n o t like it that close to hom e.
Anyway, the agenda is now no t hunger. It is death, as it always finally
is with the marginal. T he p ro p h et is p u t in a situation o f death to
see if he can work life. Indeed, the entire narrative sets him against
d eath and challenges his power. T he question is, W ho has the power
o f life? Those who have the forms o f power do n o t have the power
for life. King Ahab never raised anyone from the dead!
Elijah does n o t flinch. H e takes the body of the boy. He seems to
engage in some kind of physical gesture, perhaps artificial respiration.
But what he finally does is pray. In the first scene, he addressed the
woman, “Do no t fear.” Now he does no t address the woman. Now he
addresses God, the God who m ust be addressed in seasons o f death.
In verse 20, he cries out in anguish to God. H e accuses God, even as
the m other has accused him. In verse 21, he petitions G od to let this
child have life. H e prays to God against the coldness o f d eath because
h e does n o t believe that d eath is the last word. Notice how u nencum
b ered an d unarm ed is this prophet. He has no resource, only prayer.
Only the capacity to invoke the God o f life in a season o f death.
T he narrative ends by having the prayer answered. God hears.
T he child lives. T he wom an trusts. This narrative, then, is an episode
o f rehabilitation,10 which is the counterside o f destabilization. T he
10. Erhard Gerstenberger {Der bittende Mensch: Bittritual und Klagelied des Einzel-
men im Alten Testament [Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1980], 107-69) has
prophet engages n o t simply in an act o f solidarity. He is no t only

Willing to be there in this season of death. H e transform s. H e has
power an d authority to change circum stance because he trusts ut
terly the sovereign rule o f Yahweh against the power o f death. Now I
do n o t want to overinterpret, but let m e suggest this way o f reading
the text. Perhaps th e story concerns the question, W ho has power for
life? T he conventional answer that all o f us give alm ost automatically
and certainly uncritically is, “T he system.” T hat is w hat the system
claims, an d th at is w hat it exists for. But, o f course, this widow has
no access to that. T h e system is no t for her. She receives no life from
the royal apparatus o f the legal establishm ent o r the tem ple m achin
ery. So h e r crisis is to see if there are form s o f life available that
fall outside adm inistered forms. T he narrative makes it unavoidable.
The power for life is loose in the world. It is n o t contained by the
king, who can cause no rain. But o ther kinds o f folks, especially this
pro p het, have access to power for life.
T h at is how pastoring may be prophetic: to assert, to act on, and
to live o u t th e assurance that the power for life is worked by God
in o u r m idst an d will not be contained by o u r vested interests. T he
power for life is n o t controlled and contained in the norm al, of
ficial channels. T he m onopoly is broken. T he m edical com m unity
does n o t control healing. T he bureaucratic church does n o t govern
grace. T he agents o f arms do not really preside over the possibilities
o f peace. T he world is m uch m ore open than that to the invasion of
G od’s life-giving power, granted to the unqualified.
O ne can recognize the echo of this story in Jesus’ handling o f the
d au g h ter o f Jairus (M ark 5:22-24, 35-43). O f course, where Jesus is,
th e pow er for life is loosened. It will no t be denied o r m onopolized.
Every society has agents who im agine that they control and can dis
pense the pow er o f life and that such a m onopoly lends stability. This
pro p h etic tale is destabilizing because the power for life turns up in
o d d and unex p ected places. Indeed, that is what the resurrection of
Jesus is about. It concerns the shattering o f the m onopolies around
which life is organized an d dispensed. So the early church can say
th at God raised u p Jesus because it was n o t possible that the bind
ings of d eath should hold him (Acts 2:24). We need to learn to read
these life-surprising narratives with m uch m ore systemic awareness.
argued that Israel had ways in which to conduct “liturgies of rehabilitation,” even
though these escape our rationality of modernity. Perhaps the work o f Elijah here
is in the context and according to the accepted form of such an enterprise.
They b ear witness to the power for life at work in those undeserving
places where we could n o t choose to adm inister life. Elijah seems to
bear in his person the power fo r life that is always destabilizing in a
world th at has all things channeled in controlling ways. So the theo-‘
logical assertion is th at G od’s power for life comes. T he sociological
statem ent is that the ones accustom ed to adm inistering life-goods do
n o t control this. T hat evokes hostility because the m arginal, when
enlivened, pose a social threat to those who benefit excessively from
the present arrangem ent.
The Audacious Clarification of Sovereignty

T h e second episode is b etter known to us, the contest at M ount
Carm el (1 Kings 18-19). Now Elijah is n o t dealing with the poor.
Now h e is face-to-face with the regim e, the king, the priests, the
prophets, the professionals, the credentialed types. The crisis is a
practical one that, on the face o f it, does no t seem to be theologi
cal. T he problem is the drought. T he d ro u g h t hangs over the entire
Elijah cycle, announcing that the royal enterprise is in ep t an d dys
functional. So the issue is, How do we get rain? W ho has the capacity
to m ake rain? Or, if you like, Is the governm ent capable o f handling
th e energy crisis? (The lack o f rain, after all, m eans failed energy.) So
th ere is an acute anxiety about rain because th at now becom es the
issue o f life and death. Likely, the polls revealed that 62 percen t of
the people regarded the th reat of the d rought to be the overriding
public problem . It is somewhat analogous to the problem o f secu
rity in our time. N ot too long ago, at least 62 percent o f the people
indicated th at the nuclear th reat was the prim ary public issue. We
have great debates about how to get security, who has the capacity to
make us secure, and w hether the governm ent is capable o f handling
the matter.
We know how the narrative advances. It becom es a contest. Elijah
is at his m ost audacious. H e is so utterly convinced o f the truth o f his
cause, o f his God, th at he dares to mock royal religion, to m ake fun
of the sponsors, agents, and benefactors o f the dom inant system. H e
goes to extrem e m easures to set them up, all the m ore to hum iliate
them . For Elijah, for the narrator, and for the listening community,
the outcom e is never in doubt; it is only dramatically suspended. The
outcom e is sure.
Elijah begins by m ocking their incapacity. H e m eans to articulate
th at the system cannot deliver and cannot keep its promises. The
king o f the system, the priests and the prophets o f the system, and fi
nally the gods o f the system cannot deliver (see the parallel startling
conclusion on the Egyptian technicians in Exod. 8:18). T he system
can n o t deliver, cannot keep its promises. T hen he makes his own
task as difficult as possible by pouring water on the fire before his
prayers.
W hat the n arrato r has Elijah do is to see that the question o f rain
a n d energy is in fact a theological question o f sovereignty. T he ques
tion ab out the system is, Can the gods of the system give life? Is there an
alternative source o f life? Now the urging I make is that prophetic
faith m ust be theologically intentional and explicit, knowing th at the
God-question is b o th open and urgent. T hat does n o t fit o u r stereo
types o f the prophetic. But it is so. Conservatives tend to regard the
G od-question as settled an d capable of reduction to a few formulas.
Liberals ten d to regard the God-question as trivial and unim portant.
Elijah rejects b oth the liberal trivialization and the conservative re-
ductionism because h e believes that theology is im portant. To be
sure, Elijah is n o t a systematic theologian spinning o u t theoretical
tomes. But h e is doing theology. H e believes that in the thick o f so
cial conflict, th e God-question is crucial because everything follows
from it. My sense is th at any o f us who would be prophetic m ust take
on ourselves th e task o f hard-nosed, intellectually disciplined theo
logical work, because finally the real issues concern the question of
sovereignty.
T he p o ig n an t center o f this episode is Elijah’s question in 18:21:
“How long will you go lim ping with two different opinions? If the
L ord is God, follow him; bu t if Baal, then follow him .” Prophetic
faith holds for an e ith e r /o r at the base of life. W hat is at issue here
is n o t simply a theological label, as though the simple nam e o f God
m atters. But we have ra th e r a discussion about the relation between
the processes o f life an d the source of life. Canaanite religion, Baalism,
a n d in d eed every civil religion, argues and presum es th at the pro
cesses o f life contain an d are identical with the source o f life. Being
able to m anage the process gives one control over the source. Now
w hat this m eans practically is that the establishm ent—political, reli
gious, o r scientific— has access to the processes and can secure its
own existence by m astering the processes. Baalism is a religion that
believes th at the mystery o f life has now been p u t at o u r disposal and
th at we have life on the terms we m ight like.
In the ancient world, when the tem ple was thought to be the
seat o f life, the priests were regarded as controllers o f the sources of

life. They were characteristically in the service o f the king. Indeed,
the history of the church reads in like m anner with its tight control
o f sacram ents as the access p oint o f life, security, and well-being. In4'
Jesus’ time, the torah was tho u g h t to be the source o f life, and so
argum ents about the torah becam e discussions on how to secure life
o n o n e’s own terms. In the m odern world, the seduction o f scientism
an d technology is th at we have the capacity finally to adm inister life
o n o u r own terms. T he arms race was a spin-off of that, for arms
are an attem pt to have our technology secure us. Every attem pt at
containing life, including some forms o f process theology, runs the
risk o f this confusion o f source an d process.
Against all that, the hard-nosed Yahwism o f Elyah makes a rad
ical distinction between source an d process. T he processes of rain,
energy, and life may be discernible. But the source is hidden, inac
cessible, and inscrutable. Rain will no t be gotten by m anipulation b u t
only by reference to the holy sovereign God, who is jealous. T here
fore, all the techniques o f religion, ritual, piety, morality, dogma,
science, economics, whatever, are finally in vain. Because G od will
n o t yield to that. God has G od’s own person. God is n o t simply
o u r own policy interests expressed in exaggerated form. G od is an
identifiable, known person, known in the liberating m em ory o f the
exodus. This God will give gifts, the gifts o f life, b u t always on G od’s
inscrutable term s that mock the pretensions an d the m echanism s of
the regime.
So the center of this p rophetic act may be found in 1 Kings 18:36-
37, where Elijah again resorts to prayer: “O Lord, God o f Abraham ,
Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day that thou art God in Israel,
an d th at I am thy servant, and that I have done all these things at
thy word. Answer me, O Lord, answer me, that this people may know
th at thou, O Lord, a rt God, an d th at th o u hast tu rn ed their hearts
back.” As in the case o f the dead child, the critical act is prayer, yield
ing, subm itting, acknowledging. T he result is a response (v. 38) that
leads to praise and confession (v. 39). Finally, it is n o t technique,
b u t petition. It is n o t m anagem ent, b u t trustful asking th at matters.
O u t o f it emerges the awareness that God is n o t available an d useful.
T he God of this p ro p h e t has no utilitarian value and cannot be har
nessed into schemes for rain, for energy, for life, for security.11 Now
11. See the striking statement of Ellul, “Meditation of Inutility,” in Politics of God,
190-99. Ellul’s analysis concerns the inutility of hum an effort, but the implied coun-
this prayer should n o t be trivialized. It is n o t an act o f “spirituality.”

It is referring to life outside the system. It is driving the life-question
back b eh in d the processes to the source that is inaccessible. In such
prayer, Elijah redescribes the world for him self and his contem po
raries, an d h e enacts a claim for sovereignty th at m eans to refute
every false claim to sovereignty.
So p ro p h etic faith has a stake in articulating the otherness, aw
fulness, holiness, sovereignty, and jealousy o f God, to keep final
m eanings at som e remove from m anagem ent practice an d techni
cal capacity. Indeed, it is God at some remove who perm its critical
reflection a n d th e reception of an alternative. N ote well that the
p ro p h e t is an alien in the world o f his contem poraries, for h e fails
to live inside th eir rationality. Indeed, were he to concede their ra
tionality, his capacity to pray an d have power for life would surely be
lost.
P rophetic faith resists the tem ptation to reduce God to a tech
nique. God does n o t belong in any phrases th at are concerned with
“how to.” In the ancient world, God is treated as though God were
a technique for rain. In the m odern world, God is treated as a
technique for keeping families together, for keeping middle-class
morality functioning, for m aintaining the well-being o f the Western
alliance, for m aintaining the free-m arket system, for the soothing of
a troubled psyche, an d so on. Elijah’s assault on Baalism is to assert
th at th ere is n o essential or reliable linkage between the sovereign
God an d any technique for securing our existence o r o u r well-being.
T h e push o f p rophetic faith is always to force a decision. The
decision to be faced is n o t always immediately evident because the
decision m ost often seems to concern som ething o th er than theol
ogy. P rophetic faith is concerned to redefine the relation betw een
heaven an d earth, betw een God and creation, to insist th at God is
n o t an echo o f creation o r a client bu t is in fact a free agent about
whom a decision m ust be made.
It is w orth thinking about technique and usability in o u r time.
T he pastor has access to many places in o u r com m on life where
the tru th o f things is reduced to technique—about money, about
relationships, ab o u t sexuality. In the world of technique, there
is this audacious clarification of sovereignty. Life-issues are about
sovereignty. T h e question concerns what is finally real, to which
terpart that resonates with Ellul’s analysis is the inutility of God for every human
agenda.
everything else m ust be referred. And that, in this age of relativism,

is so difficult because we prefer to think that there is no overriding
reality, b u t only a series o f little realities th at we choose and like and
fashion for ourselves. Sovereignty in any language—inclusive o r ex
clusive— is so difficult for us because we are dealing with a reality
who has no analogy anywhere in our experience.
To articulate this holy one as really true is audacious because
it flies in the face o f so m uch obvious pragm atism and utilitarian
ism. O ne m ust speak against the presum ed data, for all the data are
against this. But the data m ust be transform ed to fit the claim. So Eli
ja h ’s prayer returns to the roots. It goes back to the old tradition of
Abraham , Isaac, and Jacob. The God addressed is the one who has
always violated pragm atic reason. This God violated pragm atic rea
son in giving a birth to barren Sarah,12 in freeing the slaves. Quite
clearly, Elijah believes that this violation o f technique and pragm atic
reason is necessary to resolve the energy crisis.
Is it n o t clear that such an audacious clarification o f G od’s sover
eignty is destabilizing? You see, this theology is serious stuff. We have
treated theology as a leisure-time activity. B ut this theology serves
to delegitim ate the m ain claims o f the royal system. T he exposure
o f Baalism as gods who cannot give life is equivalent to nullifying
the political, cultural authority of the regim e. Prophetic theology
concerns the unm asking o f the idols th at keep the system function
ing. Prophetic ministry has these exposures to make. T here are false
claim ants to power who m ust be delegitim ated in order th at the true
God can have a say. So again I m ake the point: prophetic ministry
destabilizes to perm it a newness that m ust be thoughtful and dis
ciplined, a hard intellectual effort. T he evidence that such an act is
destabilizing is the resolve o f Jezebel against Elijah: “So may the gods
do to me, and m ore also, if I do n o t make your life as the life o f one
o f them by this time tom orrow ” (19:2). W ho asserts the sovereignty
o f Yahweh asserts that processes do no t give access to source. W ho as
serts sovereignty clashes with all the pseudosovereigns. But the reality
o f Yahweh’s sovereignty has persuasion. It perm itted people to make
a life-receiving decision in 18:29. It did not, o f course, persuade the
regim e, as indeed it hardly ever does.
12. See my essay “ ‘Impossibility’ and Epistemology in the Faith Tradition of

Abraham and Sarah (Gen. 18:1-15),” ZAW 94 (1982): 615-34.
The Prophet as a Destabilizing Presence 23 9
Unseemly Interventions
in Presumed Power Arrangements
T he th ird dim ension o f Elijah’s prophetic presence is in the well-
known story o f N aboth’s vineyard (1 Kings 21). T he narrative falls
into two oddly related parts. In the first part, verses 1-16, the key
actors are N aboth, Ahab, and Jezebel. Elijah is now here m endoned.
It is possible to have narratives in Israel in which prophets are not
present. B ut according to this tradition, when that happens, dim en
sions o f hum aneness disappear. The triangular interaction of the
landowner, the king, and the queen is not to be read as a personal
struggle ab out greed. We shall understand the narrative m ore faith
fully if we see th at it is about the clash o f land-tenure systems. N aboth
em bodies an d is faithful to a system that is governed by patrimony,
which assures him the inalienable rights, privileges, an d responsibil
ities o f his family inheritance. This vineyard could n o t be w ithout
N aboth belonging to it. N aboth could no t be w ithout this land. T hat
close and inalienable land linkage is likely reflected in the jubilee
practice (Leviticus 25), a social, institutional guarantee that this con
nection o f land an d family is indispensable for the functioning of
society. It is less directly also a statem ent about the materiality o f the
hu m an process. H um an persons are intended to have land and tu rf
as well as th e social pow er that goes with them . W hen hum an per
sons lack land an d social power, their persons are by th at m uch
dim inished.
Conversely, Jezebel em bodies a different land system, called
p reb en d al.13 We may in this context take that as a conventional
C anaanite land system, perhaps specifically related to Tyre, from
whence she came. This view sees land as a tradable commodity. But
finally land is in the right o f the king. T here are no safeguards
against the rapacious social policy o f the strong against the weak.
Obviously, the linkage o f land and person is not inalienable, bu t a
historical accident. All safeguards o f egalitarianism are lost. Social
pow er is distributed as one can seize it. This view offers a sharp
contrast in econom ic theory to the view held by N aboth. Perhaps
it finally offers a contrasting reading o f hum an reality at the base
in which som e are entitled to social power over others, especially a
m onarch over th e o th er landowners.
13. Robert B. Coote (Amos among the Prophets [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981), 24-
45) has well summarized the data from a sociological perspective.
So the issue o f the story is this: W ho is entitled to what kind o f so

cial power in the form of land? Jezebel’s ruthless and cunning action
against N aboth shows th at the release o f rapacious possibility leaves
n o n e safe. Ahab is a pitiful figure in the m iddle. H e is n o t an agent
b u t only a passive recipient. H e knows b etter than does his queen
ab out the rights of patrim ony and how sacred they are in Israel. But
h e has neither the will to act on his own, n o r the will to safeguard
th e practice of patrimony, n o r the will to curb Jezebel.
So the story works out its course. It ends with N aboth dead for
having resisted the unbridled will of the throne. A nd the last state
m en t is closure, in verse 15: “Arise, take possession o f the vineyard
o f N aboth th ejezreelite, which h e refused to give you for money; for
N aboth is n o t alive, bu t dead.” T h en the n arrato r concludes laconi
cally, “As soon as Ahab heard that N aboth was dead, Ahab arose to go
down to the vineyard o f N aboth th ejez ree lite, to take possession o f
it.” E nd o f story—it ends in death. Too many stories end th at way, in
death, usurpation, confiscation. T he narrative ending in d eath tells
n o t only about a clash o f land systems b u t also about how it turns
out. It is always death for the weaker at the hands o f the stronger.
T he narrative describes a set o f power relations that have stability
and legitimacy. All parties assum ed that the narrative was over and
th at it h ad ended on royal terms. It seems to be over for Naboth.
Ahab and Jezebel also think it is over. T he narrative seems ended.
T he land seems claimed. History seems closed. Everything seems so.
B ut Elijah is so unseemly. In fact, ju st as the narrative seems to
end, this unseemly one starts the narrative underway again. Now in
the second part o f the narrative (w. 17-29), things begin abruptly
in a way that the royal partners did no t suspect and could no t
resist: “T hen the word o f the Lord came to Elijah the Tishbite,
saying, ‘Arise, go down to m eet A hab.’ ” T he word from Yahweh is
quite explicit. It commissions Elijah to speak an entire lawsuit form,
com plete with indictm ent and sentence. W here there is a prophet,
history can continue. W here there is a prophet, the narrative can
continue, although now the narrative takes on a conflictual tone.
U ntil verse 17, everything had been m anaged and covered over in
seem ing harmony. Now the same m atters are unclosed, disclosed,
an d shown to be in deadly dispute.
Until this m om ent in the narrative, the presum ed power arrange
m ents had all been in favor o f the royal couple. Nobody raised
serious questions—until the word, until the prophet. Elijah’s speech,
which is unseemly, if n o t treasonable, does n o t for a m om ent accept
The Prophet as a Destabilizing Presence
those power schemes. Elijah considers them illicit and in lac I al
ready nullified. T he indictm ent puts it this way: “Thus says the I xml,
‘Have you killed, an d also taken possession?’ ” (v. 19). T he question
is rhetorical, th e answer clear. This is followed by the sentence: “In
th e place w here dogs licked up the blood o f N aboth shall dogs lick
your own blood” (v. 19). T he lawsuit is dum ped right into the m iddle
o f the narrative, even as the lawsuit is dum ped inescapably into the
m iddle o f life. T he abrasiveness of the lawsuit disturbs the presum ed
power arrangem ents. T he prem ise of royal power is that there is no
voice o r agent bold en ough to posit a lawsuit. Indeed, the speech of
Elijah is only a rhetorical act. He seems to have no p ro p e r authority
to m ake such a claim. B ut it turns ou t immediately to b e a rhetorical
act with im m ense destabilizing power. Its power is that, on the face
o f it, it is true. No party in the narrative seems to d o u b t its validity.
Jezebel is kept silent an d invisible by the narrator. Ahab is moved to
repentance. T he tru th o f the lawsuit is so simple, yet so urgent. It
asserts th at Yahweh, n o t Jezebel, no t Ahab, n o t Baal, n o r the gods
o f Tyre, in fact, orders life. If Yahweh orders life, then in Israel this
always refers o ne back to torah. T he lawsuit asserts th at power m ust
answer to covenantal rule. Specifically, there are in the torah prohibi
tions of a nonnegotiable kind against m urder and against usurpation
(coveting). T he pow er o f the state is not absolute. The power o f the
pow erful is n o t excessively regarded. T he dom inant system may have
pow er to fashion its own world. But that fashioned world is always
relative, always u n d e r scrutiny, always in jeopardy.
Power now, in the second part o f the narrative, is deployed differ
ently. It is n o t simply th ro n e against Naboth. Now Yahweh intrudes
as the key pow er ag ent in the narrative. W here Yahweh enters, the
pow er of th e others seems irrelevant. T he calculus is all shifted.
N aboth has n o ally who will save his life; it is too late fo r that. N aboth
a n d his folk now have an avenger who will see th at the blood o f
N aboth is h o n o red in retaliation (cf. Gen. 9:6).
Regimes th at absolutize their power tend to freeze the histori
cal process an d o rd e r life absolutely. T here power o f a social kind
seems tran scen d en t a n d beyond challenge. But power relations, so
the p ro p h e t insists, are never as clean and sim ple as we imagine.
T he p rophetic task is to reopen the power question, to ask, Who
needs to have a say in this m atter? This applies no t only to the great
public issues. I suggest that there is no pastoral en co u n ter in which
the redefinition o f pow er relations is no t an open problem . We are
so caught u p in o u r presuppositions that we fail to notice. B ut in so
many ways, Elijah gives a paradigm that asserts that the cry o f the
“bruised reed” and the “dimly burning wick” (Isa. 42:3) is never si
lenced, even as the cry of Abel from the ground is never silenced
(Gen. 4:10), precisely because such folk have an advocate who will
n o t quit. Elijah brings to speech the presence o f th at powerful,
relendess advocate who will n o t let such deathliness go unanswered.
T he narrative then moves to an exposition o f the lawsuit, which is
som ewhat cryptic. But in verses 20-24, Elijah makes it plain, harshly
plain. T he lawsuit m eans the end o f the dynasty, an ignoble end. T he
w onder may be that A hab is still enough in touch with the tradition
th at he can rep en t (v. 27). But the repentance does n o t override the
ju d g m en t. It only delays the m atter one generation. T he ju d g m en t
is sure against such a false set of power relations.
Implications for Pastoral Ministry

Now Elijah is not the whole o f the prophetic tradition. But for our
context h e offers some rem arkable pointers fo r a pastoral ministry
th at is prophetic. I have focused on three narratives th at suggest
three characteristic prophetic agendas:
1. Transformative gestures of solidarity, in which Elijah brings life to
a m arginal widow, in a season o f death.
2. Audacious clarification of sovereignty, in which Elijah mocks the
theological claims of the established power and perm its a time of
obedience to the true God.
3. Unseemly intervention in presumed power relations, in which Elijah,
by his powerful speech, shatters the closed power system an d opens
life to the relentless holiness o f God.
T hro u ghout this process o f study I have asked myself, How was
Elijah able to do this? W here did he get the courage, the freedom ,
the stam ina, and the authority to enact such a ministry? We know
th at in 19:4-18 he was in a deep depression because his great efforts
seem ed to make no difference, except to make him an exposed out
cast. I do n o t minimize the problem , b u t I state it squarely so that we
understand the “m ap” of prophetic ministry and are n o t surprised
th at it leads here. If I have rightly discerned the categories, this m in
istry o f destabilization brings hostility as part o f the territory. And I
have suggested that all three o f these acts are acts of destabilization.
I have a m odest observation on the resources that are available
to Elijah. At the outset o f this narrative (17:3-6), in Yahweh’s first
The Prophet as a Destabilizing Presence
address to him , he is given this initial com m and: “D epart from hero
an d tu rn eastward, an d hide yourself by the brook C herith, that is
east o f the Jo rd an . You shall drink from the brook, an d I have com
m an d ed th e ravens to feed you th ere” (w. 3-4). And the ravens did as
com m anded. At the outset, Elijah is com m anded to the wilderness,
to th e same place w here J o h n the Baptist and, later, Paul went, to a
place n o t unlike the setdng for the tem ptations o f Jesus.
So I suggest this: from the beginning, Elijah is com m anded to dis
engage from royal definitions of reality. H e is no t to think the thoughts
o f the royal establishm ent. He is not to eat their food, hope their
hopes, fear th eir fears. H e is no t to share their perceptions o r par
ticipate in th eir rationality. H e is to be one who lives in a different
social rationality th at is defined by the power and purpose o f Yah
weh. Elijah’s freedom and authority stem from the fact that he did
n o t perceive the world through royal categories. H e owed no such
allegiance an d h ad no fear of conflict because he h ad arrived at
a different percep tion o f truth. Surely, the key issue is withdrawal
from th at rationality. B ut the beginning point is economic: a differ
e n t food supply (cf. Daniel 1; Mark 8:15). T he key factor is not
to be b eh o ld en economically, for then if one is not cared for and
fed by the royal system, one may m ore likely be free o f the control
ling p erception o f reality. I suggest that for all o f us in o u r affluent
society who yearn for the freedom and authority to be prophetic,
we will find different m odes of living only insofar as we disengage,
intellectually a n d economically. After all, that disengagem ent from
royal definitions o f reality is what Jesus called for in sum m oning
disciples an d in proclaim ing the kingdom . And it is what we claim
is at issue in baptism when we renounce loyalty to the rulers o f
this age.
Finally, I m ust m ake explicit what I have im plied about pastoral
care. I know well th at “frontal” prophetic ministry o f a stereotypical
kind is n o t o u r agenda. Maybe it should be, b u t it is not. I hope that
w hat I have said relates to pastoral care broadly conceived in all its
dim ensions. So let m e say it two ways.
First, I argue th at the agenda o f Elijah is the agenda o f all seri
ous pastoral ministry, which includes, bu t is not lim ited to, pastoral
counseling. M uch pastoral ministry has been preoccupied, in my
ju d g m en t too singularly, with psychological matters. But there is now
a move away from th at in the field. The urging I make is th at these
th ree issues o f solidarity with the marginal, clarity about sovereignty,
an d renewed power relations belong to a biblical understanding of
health. Any pastoral care that shrinks from these m atters is likely to
be rom antic, trivial, and irrelevant to the real health issues facing us.
O ne can ask about marginality in o n e ’s own person (cf. the use
m ade o f such an analogy in 1 Cor. 12:14-25). O ne can pursue power
relations in m arriage or in any o ther social unit. O ne can reflect on
sovereignty in any part o f o n e ’s personal or interpersonal life. These
are n o t alien categories. But they are categories o f concern th at have
b een neglected by modernity. And yet they will n o t go away, because
they are the real issues. W hat m atters is that the claim o f covenant
with the Holy God gives us a different agenda from self-help an d ad
ju stm e n t theories o f well-being. My sense is th at in U.S. society we
have adopted m odels o f psychological health th at will finally destroy
us. T here is in this a discernm ent o f hum an reality th at gives us pe
culiar access to the real issues and, I dare say, peculiar resources for
responses that are genuinely healing and restorative.
Second, the m odes in which this textual m aterial may be helpful
are many and varied. I do n o t suggest that one ought (or can) stand
up and announce prophetic lawsuits. Indeed, I have insisted from
the beginning that our work is n o t to replicate Elijah but to let these
texts have their full say. My hunch is this: if we get clear on w hat the
real issues are—marginality, sovereignty, power relations—we will be
gin to see many ways in which these issues can be pursued. Pastoral
care requires enorm ous intentionality, so that in every circum stance
o f preaching, liturgy, public prayer, wherever, the real hum an issues
are raised.
T he dichotom y of prophetic an d pastoral is a m isunderstanding
o f both. I can think o f no one in o u r tradition who is m ore in
tensely engaged in pastoral care than Elijah. H e practices it with
the widow by being present in h er need. H e practices it with the
false prophets by exposing their fraud and perm itting a faithful con
fession. H e practices it with the king by telling the truth. And in
each case, as Yahweh’s sovereignty is celebrated, the power fo r life is
present—even to Ahab. The unleashing o f the power for life in this
world b en t on death depends on pastoral work that is rigorous and
prophetic work that is passionate. But such pastoral-prophetic work
requires being fed by ravens, no t at the king’s table.
12
The Social Significance of Solomon
as a Patron of Wisdom
T h e RELATIONSHIP between Solom on and wisdom is m uch

disputed in recen t scholarly discussion. A part o f the dispute con
cerns the categories in which to consider the relation o f Solom on to
wisdom. It makes a great deal of difference if the question is treated
in term s o f literary, historical, or sociocultural categories.
The Problematic of Historical Evidence

T he literary evidence for Solom on as a patron o f wisdom is no t
extensive, n o r is it difficult to identify. First, the literary evidence
concerns texts em bedded in the “history o f Solom on” as it is por
trayed in the D euteronom istic account of 1 Kings 3-11. Four texts
are im portant: (1) 1 Kings 3:3-14, Solom on’s inaugural dream and
prayer in which Solom on prays for wisdom to govern; (2) 1 Kings
3:16-28, a narrative in which Solom on is reported to exercise wisdom
in the execution o f royal justice; (3) 1 Kings 4:29-34 (MT 5:9-14),
in which Solom on is credited with the production o f encyclopedic
proverbs; an d (4) 1 Kings 10:1-13, concerning the visit o f the Q ueen
o f S heba in which Solom on’s wisdom is closely related to his power
an d w ealth.1
1. The grouping of wisdom, power, and riches is reflected in Jer. 9:23-24 (MT
w. 22-23). O n the significance of this text, see my essay “The Epistemological Crisis
of Israel’s Two Histories (Jer. 9:22-23),” in Israelite Wisdom, ed. Jo h n G. Gammie
245
A literary analysis of these texts requires close attention to the

question o f genre. It is immediately clear that we are dealing with
narratives that reflect com m on narrative tendencies and strategies,
so th at the events reported are to be regarded as stereotypical,
m arked by literary convention, with evidence o f legendary or fic
tional developm ent o r both. Thus, for example, the first narrative
belongs to the genre o f inaugural dream ;2 the second is a standard
an d recurring exam ple o f juridical cunning; an d the fourth is filled
with propagandistic com parisons between com peting royal figures.
It may well be that none of these narratives will carry the w eight ex
pected o f a factual historical rep o rt on a concrete event. In any case,
whatever happened historically is cast in a narrative form th at makes
factuality precarious.
R. B. Y. Scott (closely followed by Jam es L. Crenshaw) has con
cluded that these texts provide no substantive basis fo r linking
Solom on historically to the enterprise o f wisdom.3 Moreover, each o f
these texts likely serves an interest o th er than the assertion o f a sapi
ential function, that is, the legitimacy and success o f the monarchy.
In short, they are rendered imaginatively and function intentionally
as propaganda. Indeed if the propagandistic elem ent were absent,
they would fail in their function. Such intentionally overstated ma
terial provides poor evidence fo r factuality. Finally, because these
narratives bear some marks o f D euteronom istic influence, they are
likely later and no t to be regarded as historically reliable.
T he second cluster of evidence is found in three superscriptions
in the book o f Proverbs that apparently introduce distinct collec
tions o f proverbs (Prov. 1:1; 10:1; 25:1). T he first o f these may be
regarded as a late designation by the fram ers o f the book o f Proverbs
as canonical literature.4 T he second is perhaps a late designation
for an earlier, precanonical collection. T he third, Scott believes,
bears witness to the time and activity o f Hezekiah, b u t n o t the time
(Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1978), 85-105 (reprinted in Walter Brueggemann,

Old Testament Theology: Essays on Structure, Theme, and Text [Minneapolis: Fortress,
1992]).
2. On this text, see Helen A. Kenik, Design for Kingship, SBLDS 69 (Chico, Calif.:
Scholars Press, 1983).
3. R. B. Y. Scott, “Solomon and the Beginnings of Wisdom in Israel,” VTSup 3
(1955): 262-79 (reprinted in Studies in Ancient Israelite Wisdom, ed. James L. Cren
shaw [New York: KTAV, 1976], 84-101). James L. Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom
(Atlanta: John Knox, 1981), 42-54.
4. See Brevard S. Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture (Philadel
phia: Fortress, 1979), 551-52.
The Social Significance o f Solomon as a Patron of Wisdom 247
o f Solom on. In any case, these three superscriptions provide no

basis for historical ju d g m en t, im portant as they are for canonical
u nderstanding.
T hird, I m ention in passing that in the canonical presentation,
Ecclesiastes an d the Song o f Solomon are credited to Solom on.5
However, no critical scholar takes such connotations as evidence of
authorship. W hile these connections to Solom on may be im portant
for canonical in ten tio n and interpretation, they provide no clue to
tenth-century historical realities. Subsequent postcanonical tradition
an d legend add to this ongoing later tendency to assign sapien
tial m atters to Solom on, but none o f these adds to the data for a
historical ju d g m en t.
Thus th e literary evidence is o f a fanciful kind, surely m arked
by legendary tendencies, useful for canonical consideration, bu t out
o f which n o certain historical ju d g m en t can be m ade. T he direct
textual evidence for my topic is precarious an d is ju d g e d by some
scholars as nonexistent.
Solomon as a Social Mutation in Israel

However, to pose o u r question in such categories is itself open to
question. An ap proach that moves directly from literary analysis to
m atters o f facticity proceeds on too narrow a basis because it as
sum es a sim ple correlation between literary evidence an d historical
ju d g m en t. If this topic m ust be treated on that basis, there is little
g ro u n d for discussion. It is, however, methodologically inadequate
to p roceed on th e basis of a simple correlation between literary evi
dence an d historical ju d g m en t. T herefore, one m ust no t so quickly
accept the negative ju d g m e n t o f Scott and Crenshaw, bu t m ust at
ten d to m ore th an literary analysis o f isolated texts and historical
conclusions based on th at literary analysis. T he text never happens
in a vacuum, so that, as best one can, one m ust attend to the so
cial processes an d transactions that were operative and likely decisive
in th e form ation an d transmission o f the text. It is m ore helpful to
view this as a sociopolitical problem rather than as simply a literary-
historical one. In d eed my topic invites such a sociocultural approach
5. See the comments of Childs (Introduction) on Ecclesiastes (p. 584) and on the
Song of Songs (pp. 573-75). Childs characteristically urges a move from historical
to canonical questions. It will be clear in the end that my argum ent is congruent
with that of Childs.
because o f the word “p atro n ” in the title, which opens up a vari

ety o f questions concerning social power, social interest, ideology,
and intentionality. I am n o t h ere concerned with a historical ques
tion about w hether Solom on was a wisdom teacher, b u t with a m uch
larger question of the rationality and intellectual com m itm ents of
the world o f which Solom on is both sponsor an d benefactor. I shall
n o t arrive at historical precision, and that is n o t the n ature o f this
issue.6
I begin with the observation that the D euteronom ist (1 Kings
3-11), the form ulators o f the book o f Proverbs (and some o f the
an teced en t collections in the book), and the canonical shapers of
Ecclesiastes and the Song of Solom on appealed to some abiding
m em ory of the connection between Solom on and wisdom. While
th at m em ory may no t be very precise, may n o t be recoverable by
us in detail, an d may no t be available in factual terms, it seems plau
sible to assume that the connection between Solom on an d wisdom is
rem em bered and no t invented—rem em bered, to be sure, in a quite
im pressionistic and imprecise way. Even if the various texts to which
I have referred are later, the tradition refers back to som ething in
asserting an d assuming this connection.
I pose the question in this way: W hat is it that the tradition-
ists rem em bered about the Solomonic enterprise?7 (O ne can never
be certain about historicality, an d the question may alternatively be
asked: W hat did they postulate about the Solom onic enterprise? But
because I take the traditioning process with seriousness and as hav
ing integrity, I pose the question in terms o f remembering rather
than postulating.) It seems plausible, given the evidence at hand,
to suggest th at the traditionist rem em bered with som ething like as
tonishm ent and perhaps with some dismay that Solom on represents
and em bodies an im portant novum in the history o f Israel—a novum
anticipated by David b u t visible, consolidated, and legitim ated only
6. I shall argue that the canonical reading in the end has it right. The argument,
however, is not based on historical precision but on an understanding of the social
dynamics related to Solomon. The canon makes the judgm ent that the role of
Solomon understood sociologically is in fact who he is for the Israelite tradition
and for generating its sapiential dimension.
7. “Solomonic enterprise” is a carefully chosen phrase. “Solomonic” refers to a
large cultural movement and not simply the person of the king. To call it an “enter
prise” means that what happened around Solomon is an identifiable “project” that
has some social intentionality and is a deliberate departure from the pre-Solomonic
world of Israel’s faith.
with Solom on. T h at is, Solom on is n o t simply a historical person bu t

som ething o f a sociocultural m utation in Israel.8
T he no tio n o f a Solom onic novum has been, in a general and
n o t very precise way, characterized by G erhard von Rad as an “en
lig h ten m en t.”9 By the term “enlightenm ent,” von Rad refers to a
shifted intellectual presupposition about the world, a freshly artic
u lated structure o f hum an plausibility. This proposal by von Rad has
b een criticized an d largely dismissed by Crenshaw on two grounds.10
First, the wisdom texts are largely legendary, if no t fictional. Second,
the move from “sacral” to “secular” understandings cannot be sus
tain ed by m eans of a simple contrast before and after Solomon. I
have no in ten tio n o f defending von R ad’s hypothesis, except as an
im p o rtan t step to o u r present sociological understandings o f the
question before us. C oncerning Crenshaw’s first critique, the leg
endary character o f the texts in itself is n o t im portant because the
arg um en t needs to b e based on m uch broader sociopolitical and
econom ic grounds than simply by reference to a few texts. Second,
it is n o t necessary to draw a clear line between secular a n d sacral
in o rd e r to consider a decisive shift in rationality. It is surely the
case th at “en lig h ten m en t” in retrospect is an unfortunate term to
use, for it inevitably invites a parallel to the m odern E uropean En
lightenm ent, and th at obviously is not what happened in Solom on’s
time.
I would insist, however, that what von Rad has grasped, albeit
inchoately (and what Crenshaw has neglected), are the modifica
tions in public life, political power, social organization, ideology, and
technology an d its m anagem ent that accom panied, perm itted, and
req u ired a shift in intellectual perspective. W hat von Rad sensed in
8. See Frank M. Cross, Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic (Cambridge, Mass.: Har
vard Univ. Press, 1973), 237-41, and more extensively Gosta W. Ahlstrom, Royal
Administration and National Religion in Ancient Palestine (Leiden: Brill, 1982). By using
the terms novum and “m utation” I am referring to an intra-Israelite development,
that is, that Solomon decisively changed the character o f Israel. Notice that Norman
Gottwald ( The Tribes of Yahweh [Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1979], 489-90 and passim)
treats Israel as a novum and a mutation in the world of Canaan. I am vising the terms
in the opposite sense within Israel, but my point is in agreement with Gottwald.
9. Gerhard von Rad, The Problem of the Hexateuch and Other Essays (New York:
McGraw-Hill, 1966), 69-74, 202-4; idem, Old Testament Theology (New York: Harper
and Row, 1962), 1:48-56.
10. Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom, 52-54; idem, “Prolegomenon,” in Studies in
Ancient Israelite Wisdom, 16-20; idem, Gerhard von Rad (Waco, Tex.: Word, 1978), 42-
52; and idem, review of Wisdom in Israel, by Gerhard von Rad, RSR 2 (April 1976):
6 - 12 .
term s o f a general cultural perspective we now can pursue m ore con

fidently in light o f m ore recent social analysis. T hat social analysis
was n o t available to von Rad, bu t it is clearly crucial for my gen
eral topic. Thus my m ethodological insistence is that the question of'
Solom onic wisdom m ust be explored in term s of a broadly based so
cial transform ation, and n o t on narrow literary or historical-critical
grounds.
New Forms of Power/New Modes of Knowledge

A sociocultural approach to my question will n o t yield historical
precision, b u t it will yield social probability. O ne im portant develop
m en t in Old Testam ent studies since the enlightenm ent hypothesis
o f von Rad and the negative conclusion o f Scott concerns the aware
ness th at intellectual (and therefore literary) phenom ena in ancient
Israel are closely linked to sociopolitical, economic, and technical
changes in a social organization of th at community. O r to p u t it
m ore succinctly, economics and epistemology are closely related to
each o th er and decisively influence each other.
N orm an Gottwald has offered the m ost form idable com prehen
sive hypothesis for understanding the social world in which the
Solom onic establishm ent em erged.11 H e has proposed th at ancient
Israel in the prem onarchal period, that is, from Moses to Samuel,
is a radical departure from the conventional state (city-state) m odes
o f organization best known and mostly practiced in Canaan. Israel
“withdrew” from th at m ode of social organization and organized
itself in an alternative way as a covenantal-egalitarian social exper
im ent.12 N ot only was Israel a theological oddity, authorized as it
was by Yahweh—an odd God in the ancient world—bu t Israel was
also a sociological oddity in a culture characteristically organized in
bureaucratic, hierarchical, and therefore exploitative ways. Because
conventional orderings of society tend to control an d adm inister
11. Gottwald, Tribes of Yahweh; and idem, “Early Israel and the Canaanite Socio-
Economic System,” in Palestine in Transition, ed. David N. Freedman and David Frank
Graf (Sheffield: Almond, 1983), 25-37.
12. The term “withdraw” was used in the initial hypothesis of George Mendenhall,
“The Hebrew Conquest of Palestine,” BA 25 (1962) : 66 (reprinted in The Biblical Ar
chaeologist Reader [Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970], 3:107). See also Gottwald,
Tribes of Yahweh, 85, 326, 408, 469; and Marvin L. Chaney, “Ancient Palestinian Peas
ant Movements and the Formation of Premonarchic Israel,” in Palestine in Transition,
49. The term and the social proposal behind it are crucial for understanding the
social significance of Solomon.
The Social Significance of Solomon as a Patron of Wisdom 251
conventional m odes o f knowledge,13 this new social reality relies on

an alternative epistemology, on “revelation” in the form of torah,
th at is, directly given guidance about the orderings o f com m unal
life. Early Israel thus had no recourse to conventional m odes of
discernm ent; th at is, it functioned w ithout conventional m odes of
bureaucratic wisdom. Israel’s radical m ode o f knowledge (revelation
at Sinai) is appro p riate to the radical substance of guidance, which
is an ethos o f egalitarianism rooted in the exclusive authorization
o f Yahweh. T he radical m ode and the radical substance are appro
priate to Israel’s peculiar character and self-understanding, which
m ade Israel an essentially alien com m unity in its Canaanite context.
Its m odes o f knowledge are congruent with its m odes of power and
its social visions.
T he em ergence o f the monarchy, culm inating in Solom on, is no t
to b e viewed—as is conventional—simply as a defensive organiza
tional posture to resist the Philistines. Rather, it is reflective o f a
changed social position th at h ad econom ic an d military roots and
that req u ired intellectual, religious legitimation. Frank S. Frick, in
form ed by Frank C rusem ann, suggests that the changes are related
to social organization and technology.14 Thus the direction o f so
cial developm ent in an cient Israel is from a segm entary society to
a chiefdom . T h e earlier, socially primitive com m unity is segm ented
into equal units o f power, goods, and leadership, with no central au
thority an d with no pow er positions th at could dom inate others. In
such a society, in which there are accom m odations and associations,
th ere is no m andatory accountability. This m eans there may be end
less splintering in to m o re social units (fission) with lesser o r greater
autonom y, all equal to each o th er in authority.
13. See Glendon E. Bryce, A Legacy of Wisdom (Lewisburg, Pa.: Bucknell Univ.
Press, 1979). It is im portant and characteristic that in the plague cycle of Exodus
5-11, the power of Egypt is mediated through the wise men of Egypt, the ones
who know the techniques to manage imperial power. The alternatives of Moses and
Aaron vis-a-vis the imperial wise men are telling for the epistemological crisis of
the exodus. On alternative modes of power, see Aaron Wildavsky, The Nursing Father
(Tuscaloosa: Univ. o f Alabama Press, 1984).
14. Frank S. Frick, The Formation of the State of Ancient Israel (Sheffield: Al
m ond, 1985). Frank Crusemann, Der Widerstand gegan das Konigtum, WMANT 49
(Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1978). See also Eckart Otto, “Gibt es
Zusammenhange zwischen Bevolkerungswachstum, Staatsbildung und Kulturent-
wicklung im eisenzeidichen Israel?” in Regulation, Manipulation und Explosion der
Bevolkerungsdichte, ed. O. Kraus (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1986), 73-
87. J. W. Rogerson (“Was Early Israel a Segmentary Society?” JSOT 36 [1986]: 17-26)
rejects the hypothesis that early Israel was a segmentary society.
In ancient Israel the segm entary society, especially u n d e r the

im petus o f David, was transform ed into a chiefdom , which is the be
ginning of centralized authority, the assertion o f d om inant power
supported by military success, an d therefore the accum ulation of
an econom ic surplus that began to move toward m onopoly. T he
introduction of central power and econom ic surplus entails the sys
tem atic introduction o f social inequality, in which the chief—the one
who wields the newly form ed power—redistributes wealth, power,
an d access, and therefore develops a network o f supporting alliances
am ong the powerful and the privileged.15
While a chief can discourage bu t cannot halt splintering move
m ents of independence, th at splintered independence is completely
overcom e when the chiefdom eventuates in a state in which there is
a strongly centralized authority preem pting all o th er authority and
adm inistering the econom ic arrangem ent that is now on its way to
becom ing a monopoly.
While these sociological m odes o f analysis cannot be applied to
ancient Israel with precision, there is a gathering consensus am ong
scholars that Israel em erged from a segm entary society to a chiefdom
and finally to a state u n d er Solomon. This sociological paradigm
is co n gruent with the characterization o f Solom on’s governance
th at seems clear in the texts: a social arrangem ent characterized by
advanced technology, highly developed social organization, and bu
reaucratic ordering o f governm ental power.16 For those who stood at
the cen ter o f this arrangem ent, there was a high standard o f living,
a high degree of political security, and a situation of social leisure.
T h at picture of political, econom ic, and technical change seems
reasonably secure. T he question then is: W hat happened to Israel’s
intellectual life in the m idst of this social transform ation?17 Two de
velopm ents are claim ed in the text that are congruent with the social
transform ation, and that therefore we take as historically probable.
First, such a social enterprise, which significantly departed from the
old Israelite social com m itm ents, needed religious justification and
legitimacy. Religiously this required the construction o f a tem ple
15. See Frick, The Formation of the State in Ancient Israel, 78-86, and Edward
Neufeld, “The Emergence of a Royal-Urban Society in Ancient Israel,” HUCA
31 (1960): 31-53. See the summary of Norman Gottwald, The Hebrew Bible: A
Socio-Literary Introduction (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985), 323-25.
16. See Ahlstrom, Royal Administration and National Religion; and T. N. D. Mettinger,
Solomonic State Officials (Lund: Gleerup, 1971).
17. See E. W. Heaton, Solomon’s New Men (London: Thames and Judson, 1974).
an d the articulation o f cultic practices linking the political apparatus

closely to th e purposes of G od.18 While one cannot be precise, it is
plausible th at the practice o f divine en th ro n em en t begins very early
in the Solom onic liturgy, for the en th ro n em en t of Yahweh surely
carries with it the legitimacy o f Solom on and the dynasty.19
T he religious m achinery of tem ple and cult n eeded theological,
intellectual counterparts, an d this is given in “a theology o f pres
ence,” whereby the G od o f the covenantal-liberation tradition takes
u p (p erm an en t) residence in Jerusalem in the tem ple and becom es
p atro n , ally, a n d g u arantor o f the dynasty.20 This theological adjust
m en t articulates a radically changed definition o f Yahweh, from a
transform ative agent to a guarantor. This theological transform ation
is co n g ru en t with a n d congenial to the sociological transform ation
o f th e com m unity from egalitarian to bureaucratic-hierarchical, in
which the econom ic issues have changed from survival to monopoly,
in which the power questions no longer concern m arginality but
control an d dom ination.
Second, in the context o f the theological transform ation (in the
in terest o f legitimacy) and the sociological transform ation (in the
in terest o f political control and econom ic affluence), the question
o f wisdom u n d e r royal patronage can be freshly considered. H ere
one is n o t d ep e n d en t simply on a few texts that seem easily disposed
o f by genre analysis, fo r one may inquire into sociological probabil
ity. W hat is the likely intellectual climate o f the new social situation?
W hat was perm itted a n d required by the new circumstance? To con
centrate on sacral/secular distinctions as von Rad (and consequendy
Crenshaw) has do n e is n o t as helpful as focusing on political dom
ination and econom ic surplus, a focus that requires an d perm its
18. See Moshe Weinfeld, “Zion and Jerusalem as Religious and Political Capi
tal: Ideology and Utopia,” in The Poet and the Historian, ed. Richard Elliott Friedman
(Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1983), 75-115. On pp. 87-88, Weinfeld writes, “The es
tablishment of the Israelite monarchy thus entailed revolutionary innovation, which
in turn required religious legitimation, especially in regards to the concept of
dynasty.”
19. Thus, Sigmund Mowinckel and A. R Johnson are surely right (against Her
m ann Gunkel and H ansjoachim Kraus) in their argum ent that the enthronem ent
liturgy was used very early and served a legitimating function for the Jerusalem
establishment. On the ideological function of that liturgy, see my Israel’s Praise:
Doxology against Idolatry and Ideology (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988).
20. O n the temple theology of presence, see Samuel Terrien, The Elusive Pres
ence (New York: H arper and Row, 1978), 186-213, and T. N. D. Mettinger, The
Dethronement of Sabaoth: Studies in the Shem and Kabod Theologies (Lund: Gleerup,
1982).
fresh intellectual perspectives. T he division o f labor th at accom pa

nied a bureaucratically ordered com m unity clearly required priests
for religious legitimacy and m ost probably required scribes, sages,
and wisdom teachers who functioned as the intellectual brain trust
for policy form ation, as ideologues for social justification, and as
pedagogues for the young who m ust inherit the m onopoly.21
Knowledge for Emancipation and Domination

I suggest three social functions perform ed by such an intelligentsia
in the practice o f an epistemology congruent with Solom on’s new
polidcal dom ination an d econom ic surplus.
1. T here is am ple evidence that Solom on’s am bition was to cre
ate an intellectual clim ate imitative of, and n o doubt in touch with
and competitive with, the sapiential activity o f o th er state regimes,
especially Egypt. Thus it is n o t accidental that 1 Kings 4:30-31 (MT
5:10-11) m entions wisdom practices outside Israel. Surely these prac
tices were seen, in the purview of Israel’s sapiential establishm ent,
both as m odels and as com petitors. It was this intellectual enterprise
th at em ancipated Israel from the categories o f Israel’s “tribal,” “peas
ant,” an d “sectarian” m odes o f knowledge in o rd er to share in m ore
universalizing and perhaps m ore speculative intellectual activity. Thus
accom m odation to the international practice o f wisdom no t only was
culturally ambitious in “being like p h arao h ” (cf. 1 Sam. 8:5-20) but
also may have been emancipatory, the kind o f intellectual em ancipa
tion need ed for a new state eager to operate effectively, legitimately,
and prestigiously as a state.22 Christa Bauer-Kayatz has argued that the
wisdom collection o f Proverbs 1-9 is very early and closely parallels
Egyptian materials in style, substance, and assum ption.23
21. O n the emergence of such an intelligentsia, see R. N. Whybray, The Intellectual

Tradition in the Old Testament, BZAW 15 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1974); and S. Yeiven,
“Social, Religious, and Culture Trends in Jerusalem under the Davidic Dynasty,”
VT 3 (1953): 149-65, esp. 156. See also Brian W. Kovacs, “Is There a Class-Ethic in
Proverbs?” in Essays in Old Testament Ethics, ed. James L. Crenshaw and Jo h n T. Willis
(New York: KTAV, 1974), 173-89; and Mettinger, Solomonic State Officials, 140-57. On
the priesthood in the monarchy, see Cross, Canaanite Myth, 195-215, and Ahlstrom,
Royal Administration and National Religion, 44-74.
22. The legendary account o f 1 Kings 10:1-13 surely reflects a self-awareness about
compedng with and being superior to other states. This much is clear even if the
account is not taken as historically reliable, which it likely is not.
23. See Christa Bauer-Kayatz, Studien zu Proverbien 1-9, WMANT 22 (Neukirchen-
Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1966).
2. T he intellectual operation of wisdom, one may im agine, was

bo th congenial to an d necessary for such a state. A lbrecht Alt has
suggested th at the notice o f 1 Kings 4:33 (MT 5:13) is evidence of
a kind o f cataloging activity about “natural m atters.”24 It is n o t at all
necessary to suggest th at such wisdom is “secular” (as opposed to
sacral) in o rd e r to u nderstand why the royal enterprise would want
the cataloging o f data. It is now readily agreed that wisdom is “cre
ation theology,” which m eans n o t only that it is a study o f creation
(“n a tu re ”) b u t also th at in this context it is a disciplined marveling
at the o rdering o f the world by God.25 T hat is, these teachers can be
grateful to th e creator, astonished at the delicate and resilient ord er
o f th e world, b u t nonetheless deeply curious about how this order
works. A m azem ent is n o t contradictory to disciplined investigation.
Such an enterprise may be congenial to the new state because
politically and economically, the whole world becom es “available”
for study and use as it has n o t been in Israel heretofore. It has not
b een available because questions o f survival limit scope and energy
for investigation and because the limited technology o f the m arginal
excludes m uch o f the world from o n e ’s horizon. T here may well
have been, in this new cultural setting, a fresh kind o f energy and
eagerness to explore, know, and control everything available.26 Intel
lectual possibility o f a new kind m ust have been widely recognized,
em braced, an d pursued. In such a context, there may have been a
passion to know in disciplined ways whatever could be known.
B ut such an enterprise need be n o t only congenial b u t also
necessary to the new state regime. Crenshaw suggests that such
an en lig h ten m en t project m ight be incom patible with Solom on’s
24. Albrecht Alt, “Solomonic Wisdom,” in Studies in Ancient Israelite Wisdom, 102-
12. While this classifying of “nature” seems like an objective, scientific project, it
is necessary to recognize that such an enterprise had im portant social significance
for ordering. A wedge must not be driven between social ordering and “natural”
ordering. Both aspects of ordering move in a conservative social direction.
25. See Walther Zimmerli, “The Place and Limit of the Wisdom in the Framework
of the Old Testament Theology,” in Studies in Ancient Israelite Wisdom, 314-26; idem,
Old Testament Theology in Outline (Atlanta: John Knox, 1978), 155-66; idem, The Old
Testament and the World (Adanta: John Knox, 1976), 43-52; and Gerhard von Rad,
Wisdom in Israel (Nashville: Abingdon, 1972), 74-96 and passim.
26. Regarding such energy and eagerness, m odern analogies may be found in the
sixteenth-century drive in Western Europe for reconnaissance of the “New World”
and in the drive of John F. Kennedy in the 1960s to put “a man on the m oon.” Both
these cases represent the drive of genuine exploration, but both have an obviously
political-economic motivation, one ending in colonialism, the other ending in a new
dimension of military competition.
tyranny, oppression, and greed.27 O n the contrary, such investigation

that establishes predictability leads to control, an d such control is
n o t incom patible with the fresh assertion o f hum an centrality. Such
new knowledge is indeed new power. This n eed n o t m ean such in4'
vestigations were undertaken for directly ideological reasons. In our
own context, scientists and technologists who work at research and
developm ent either for governm ent or for big business need no t
be directly com m itted to the use (and misuse) o f their findings;
they may indeed be those who are genuinely attuned to the wonder,
coherence, predictability, symmetry, and finally inscrutability o f the
world th at is the subject of such sapiential investigation. O ne will n o t
appreciate the use (and abuse) of such wisdom to the regim e unless
o ne first notices the em ancipatory power o f wonder, astonishm ent,
and knowledge that such an enterprise m ight unleash.
3. Having noted the dim ensions o f state am bitions an d scientific
wonder, it is reasonable to m atch that positive, em ancipatory factor
with a critical com m ent about the ideological function o f wisdom.
Wisdom proceeds on the assum ption that life-experience—hum an
life, life in the created order—is a “studiable system.” T h at studiable
system has constancy and durability, experienced as regularity and
predictability.28 T hat is, the proverbs observe and characterize what
is continually the same. The constancy and durability o f the studia
ble system are, for those adhering to the royal enterprise, m atched
by the systemic durability and constancy o f the political o rd er and
the econom ic arrangem ent. Indeed, the political-economic o rd er
is experienced, in such a systemic perception, as p art o f the as
sum ed ord er that is no t questioned or criticized and outside o f which
questions are not raised.29
It is widely held that wisdom, even clan wisdom, represents the
interests and perceptions o f a landed, established class.30 T he m odes
27. Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom, 53.

28. On the theological significance of that ordering of the world, see Η. H.
Schmid, Gerechtigkeit als Weltordnung (Tubingen: Mohr, 1968); and idem, “Creation,
Righteousness, and Salvation: ‘Creation Theology’ as the Broad Horizon of Biblical
Theology,” in Creation in the Old Testament, ed. Bernhard W. Anderson (Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1984), 102-17.
29. Ernest W. Nicholson (God and His People [Oxford: Clarendon, 1986], 193-210)
has understood well the dangerous potential of creation theology when it becomes
state ideology. He sees clearly that covenant faith in Israel is a frontal criticism of
such state ideology sometimes expressed as creation theology.
30. See Robert Gordis, “The Social Background of Wisdom Literature,” in Poets,
Prophets, and Sages (Bloomington: Indiana Univ. Press, 1971), 160-197; and Kovacs,
“Is There a Class-Ethic in Proverbs?”
The Social Significance o f Solomon as a Patron o f Wisdom 25 7
o f knowledge operating in wisdom instruction tend to be conser

vative an d conserving because they seek for reliable and recurring
patterns o f acceptable behavior. The conserving m odes thus tend to
buttress the status quo as an order that is to be m aintained and not
disrupted. W isdom in the clan is a study about how to m aintain and
n o t disrupt the present social arrangem ent. Thus proverbial wisdom
in any family o r clan tends to assume the legitimacy an d durability of
p resen t pow er arrangem ents. Knowledge tends n o t to push outside
such interests a n d such awarenesses.
How m uch m ore is this likely to be the case in a royal court set
ting where political interests are m uch m ore visible an d intentional
an d w here the entire enterprise depends on the power, access, and
the m eans o f the royal budget! Thus it is plausible to suppose that
wisdom teachers in the court, wittingly o r unwittingly, are com m it
ted to th e royal arrangem ent as the prism for wisdom and indeed
fo r reality. Given that prism, the wisdom teachers inevitably perform
an ideological function o f establishing this present political and so
cial o rd e r as an abiding given beyond the flux o f historical choice
an d process.31
T hus it is entirely possible that the sages in the service o f Solo
m on may have exercised at times both em ancipatory and ideological
functions, on the o n e hand channeling the energies o f the regim e in
bold an d exploratory directions, on the o ther h an d justifying present
arrangem ents. While these functions are in tension, they are n o t m u
tually exclusive. It is cogent to im agine such court functionaries as
b eing willing to cooperate with the regim e (perhaps ou t o f convic
tion, perhaps not) in ord er to have a chance for leisure, reflection,
an d exploration.
If such a sociological enterprise is plausible, I now retu rn to two
observations ab out the Solom onic texts on wisdom. First, this analysis
o f sociological an d epistemological developm ent helps us to under
stand why the sapiential texts are so carefully placed an d carefully
controlled by the D euteronom ist in 1 Kings 3-11. In light o f the so
cial revolution o f 1 Kings 11-12 in which the Solom onic achievem ent
abruptly collapses, it is clear that the ideological thrust o f sapien
tial rationality was uncritical, oppressive, and therefore unacceptable
to m uch o f the populace. It may well be that the D euteronom ist
31. See Kovacs, “Is There a Class-Ethic in Proverbs?”; and George E. Mendenhall,
“The Shady Side of Wisdom: The Date and Purpose of Genesis 3,” in A Light unto
My Path, ed. Howard N. Bream, R. D. Heim, and Casey A. Moore (Philadelphia:
Temple Univ. Press, 1974), 319-34.
un d ersto o d the tension between ideologically p ro n e sages a n d the

uncom prom ising social claims o f the torah. As a result, Solom onic
wisdom is characterized by the D euteronom ist in ironic ways to show
th at it did n o t work. But that Solomonic wisdom did no t work either
historically o r covenantally/theologically is no w arrant for conclud
ing th at the regim e was n o t com m itted to such wisdom. Indeed, it
may be an argum ent th at the regim e was indeed com m itted to such
an ideological self-deception that b rought its own ruin.32
Second, if this sociocultural analysis is cogent, one may better
und erstan d the claim of the canon about Solom on an d wisdom. T he
canon is n o t interested in historical concreteness bu t in the m em ory
th at it was Solomon, for better or for worse, who op en ed Israel’s
way for such an intellectual enterprise. T hat in fact is what Solo
m on did for Israel. Solom on m ade the larger world “available” for
Israel. Canonically then it is sensible to juxtapose the Song o f Sol
om on an d Ecclesiastes as derivative articulations o f the two poles
o f Solom onic wisdom. C rusem ann has carefully probed the way in
which this text reflects an d serves class interests th at value social
stability.33 In the interest o f m aintaining the status quo, the text
avoids criticism o f an oppressive social o rd er an d characteristically
supports established order. The em ancipatory side o f wisdom is re
flected in the em brace o f creation in the Song o f Solom on; the
ideological dim ension is articulated in Ecclesiastes. Thus I suggest
a connection between the sociological-epistemological probability of
Solom on and the canonical m em ory that continued to receive fresh
articulation.34
32. It is instructive that Barbara W. Tuchman ( The March of Folly [New York:
Ballantine, 1984], 8-11) cites the crisis of Israel at the death of Solomon as an early
example of “the march of folly.” The chapter heading under which she discusses
that crisis is “Pursuit o f Policy contrary to Self-interest.”
33. See the discerning socioeconomic analysis of Ecclesiastes by Frank Criise-
mann, “The Unchangeable World: The Crisis of Wisdom in Koheleth,” in God of
the Lowly, ed. Willy Schottroff and Wolfgang Stegemann (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis,
1984), 57-77.
34. O n the cruciality of the canonical memory, I am helped by the wonderful
phrase of Alan M. Cooper in “The Life and Times of King David according to the
Book of Psalms,” in The Poet and the Historian, ed. Richard E. Friedman (Chico,
Calif.: Scholars Press, 1983), 125: “a productive interpretive strategy.” Cooper is
writing about another canonical shaping of the material, but it applies here as well.
T hat is, to credit Solomon with sponsoring wisdom is not a historical judgm ent
but an interpretative strategy already used in the texts themselves—and now to be
used by us. I have argued that this canonical strategy is grounded in sociological
possibility, but that it goes well beyond that initial sociological function.
The Social Significance o f Solomon as a Patron of Wisdom
Wisdom as Theology and as Ideology

Finally, I consider the social function of such sages in a context like·
th at o f Solom on. It is evident that the concern o f the sages is tlu·
h id d en b u t discernible orderliness of G od’s creation, an orderliness
th at is experienced in term s o f the limits of power, the contours
o f responsibility, and the shapes o f freedom .35 T hat o rd er concerns
ethical realities,56 b u t it also concerns the use and misuse o f power,
a n d therefore it addresses questions of legitim ate power. T he ju x ta
position o f ethical reality an d legitim ate power causes the wisdom
teacher to reflect on deeds and consequences, that is, on justice,
righteousness, an d equity, on the kinds o f behavior (and policies)
th at are politically perm issible and that are tolerable to the non-
negotiable perim eters o f created order.37 Because the questions of
wisdom concern behavior and policy, it is appropriate th at the sages
have been regularly characterized as “pragm atic” and “utilitarian.”
O f course they were!
This sustained ethical reflection, which h ad all sorts o f policy
im plications, is, in a word, concerned with theodicy.38 T he later
sapiential m aterials, especially Job and Ecclesiastes, are, o f course,
co ncerned with the “theodic crisis,” with the awareness th at the old
expectations a n d assum ptions o f Israel were no longer adequate. A
theodic crisis occurs w hen the dom inant social values, presupposi
tions, and policies no longer function meaningfully an d claim assent,
no lo n g er are credited by public opinion as having foundational
authority.
Solom on’s tim e was n o t a time when dom inant assum ptions were
inadequate o r w hen values seem ed meaningless. In Solom on’s time,
everything seem ed to work. T he creation functioned as did the social
system. People in the royal apparatus could discern to some extent
how it fu n ctioned a n d could readily observe th at it functioned well
“for us.” Thus th ere is no theodic crisis. But behind every theodic cri
35. See Bryce (A Legacy of Wisdom, 139-62) for a shrewd analysis of Proverbs 25,
in which wisdom is hidden and found out, and hidden.
36. See the references in n. 28, above. Schmid has seen that such ordering as
the wise discerned not only is “natural” but always has social, political, and moral
dimensions. Thus even the encyclopedic wisdom of Solomon’s sages is related both
to morality and to political power.
37. See Klaus Koch, “Is There a Doctrine of Retribution in the Old Testament?”
in Theodicy in the Old Testament, ed. James L. Crenshaw, IRT 4 (Philadelphia: Fortress,
1983), 57-87.
38. On theodicy, see the collection of essays edited by James L. Crenshaw, Theodicy
in the Old Testament.
sis th ere is a “theodic setdem ent”— a long-standing consensus about

how life works, how society functions, how a system of benefits is allo
cated, w hat suffering m ust be tolerably and inescapably borne, and
by whom it m ust be borne.39 T he theodic setdem ent th at decides
who m ust “rightly” suffer is characteristically a setdem ent authorized
and im posed by those on top o f the heap, who benefit from the
p resen t social arrangem ent, so that the system can be legitim ated as
good, wise, and right. For those who benefit, it is very difficult to no
tice th at the theodic setdem ent may be for som eone else a theodic
* * 40
crisis.
It is my suggestion th at long before the theodic crisis in later
wisdom, widely recognized today, the Solom onic enterprise o f wis
dom instituted a theodic settlem ent that was in fact a rationalization
for presen t systemic inequity and exploitation. People who enjoy the
fruits o f the present arrangem ent characteristically have their aware
nesses trim m ed to and shaped by those interests an d experiences. It
may be th at 1 Kings 4:20-28 (MT 4:20-5:8) articulates a naive, uncriti
cal theodic settlem ent in which Ju d ah and Israel “ate an d drank and
were happy” (4:20), in which everyone was secure “u n d e r his own
vine an d fig tree” (4:25 [MT 5:5]). Conversely, 1 Kings 11, with the
protest o f the p ro p h et (w. 29-39) and the action o f the revolution
aries (w. 14-22, 23-25, 26-28), and 1 Kings 12, with its h ard political
resistance (v. 4), articulate a theodic crisis that envisions and requires
a deep change in the rules o f society. If 1 Kings 4:20-28 (MT 4:20—
5:8) an d 1 Kings 11-12 stand juxtaposed as theodic setdem ent and
theodic crisis, then the sapiential references in 1 Kings 4:29-34 (MT
5:9-14) and 1 Kings 10:1-13 may be strategically placed to show both
how the epistemological settlem ent was m ade (1 Kings 4:29-34) and
how it was indeed linked to a disproportion o f power and wealth
(1 Kings 10:1-13).41 O ne needs to ask, then, n o t if this o r that text is
39. Such theodic settlements, which appeal to “natural law” to keep people in
their “right place,” are characteristically conservative. Thus in the m odern world the
“right place” of blacks and women is that they should properly bear disproportion
ate cost for social order. A blatant case of such a theodic settlement in the church
concerns the denial of ordination to women, which is essentially a denial of access
to power.
40. Peter L. Berger (The Sacred Canopy [Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1967], 59)
observes: “[T]here may be two discrete theodicies established in the society—a
theodicy of suffering for one group and a theodicy of happiness for the other.”
Obviously a society that has two such theodicies will be in endless and relentless
conflict.
41. It is clear that in this episode concerning Solomon and the Queen o f Sheba,
wisdom now has no distinctive function or importance but belongs to the properties
historically accurate b u t what these texts intend to tell us about “re

m em bered Solom on” in relation to Israel’s persistent and recurring
question o f theodicy.42
Conclusion
It is sociologically probable th at Solomon was a patron o f a wisdom that
was at once em ancipatory and ideological. Only such a conclusion
can explain th e canonical memory of Solom on, both as the one who
em braced creation with joy (the Song of S olom on), an d as the one
who knew despair ab o u t the failure of the system o f creation (Ec
clesiastes).43 As I have suggested above, Solom on is rem em bered as
a p atro n o f a self-serving theodic settlem ent that perm itted power,
wealth, and wisdom in disproportionate m easure. Thus, he was a
p atro n o f a theopolitical enterprise that did have em ancipatory di
m ensions b u t th at in the en d was also ideological.44 For Solom on
was a p atro n for the justification o f a self-serving system that benefit-
ted th e p atro n a n d those who enjoyed his patronage. Royally form ed
knowledge inevitably serves royally valued interests.45 But for all the
of royal prestige. By being contextualized by power and riches, wisdom has been
trivialized. The same contextualization of wisdom is evident in the triad of Jer. 9:23-
24. Wisdom is then rather like “intelligence" in a superpower, so that knowledge
simply serves economic policy and military strategy. That is, it is now instrumental
for power and riches.
42. In Israel wisdom and therefore theodicy are never far removed from social
reality. See chap. 9, below.
43. Following Cooper (“The Life and Times of King David”), I see in the Song
of Solomon and Ecclesiastes productive interpretative strategies o f the canon. To
reduce these strategies to questions of historical precision would be to ignore what
happens in the canonical process.
44. On the power of such an ideological function, see the quotation from
Frangois Chatelet in H enri Mottu, “Jeremiah vs. Hananiah: Ideology and Truth in
the Old Testament Prophecy,” in The Bible and Liberation, ed. Norman Gottwald
(Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1983), 239: “An ideology is a cultural formation (implicit)
or a cultural production (explicit) that expresses the point of view of a social class
or caste; such a point of view concerns m an’s relations with nature, imagination,
the others, and himself. Ideology presents itself as having a universal validity; but in
reality it not only expresses a particular point of view, but also it tends to mask its
particularity by proposing compensations and imaginary or fleeting solutions.”
45. On the relation o f knowledge and interest, see Jurgen Habermas, Knowledge
and Human Interests (Boston: Beacon, 1971). In the m odern world o f the Enlight
enm ent, the interest of the dom inant class was perceived as objective. While we
must not press the analogy o f the Enlightenment, it is clear that the wisdom of the
royal court in Solomonic time was in the service of the royal interest and the urban
monopoly. W hen interest shapes wisdom, one may expect a “march of folly,” which
was the course and outcome of the Solomonic enterprise.
skill o f th at system, Solom on did n o t escape the “terro r o f auton

omy” in a regim e that had violated the old covenantal vision (cf.
Matt. 6:29). T he system designed to tam e an d contain anxiety en ded
(perhaps in 922 b .c .e ., perhaps in 587) in cosdy public alienation.
Rethinking Church Models
through Scripture
T O POSE AFRESH the question o f models o f the church is itself

an im p o rtan t matter. T he question suggests a self-critical awareness
th at we are practitioners o f a m odel that may no t be the only o r best
one an d th at o th er m odels o f the church are indeed thinkable. Such
a self-critical acknow ledgm ent is a necessary awareness if we are to
do any “rechoosing” o f o u r notion o f the church.
For this them e, we have before us the influential work o f Avery
Dulles, Models o f the Church, which is a thoughtful reflection on the
them e from a m ore systematic perspective; and Paul M inear’s Images
of the Church in the New Testament has provided a shrewd sum m ary of
m odels o f the church in the New Testam ent.1 These works by Dulles
and M inear have com e from their sustained involvement in ecu
m enism , Dulles in a series o f bilateral conversations and M inear in
his work on the Faith an d O rd er Commission. U ndoubtedly the m ost
influential grid o f m odels is that o f H. R ichard N iebuhr in Christ
and Culture.2 T h at presentation in my judgm ent, however, has been
severely distorted by its many users. N iebuhr’s work is a historical
study th at reflects on the way in which the church, in many different
times an d circum stances, has had to posture its life in various and
different ways. In com m on usage, however, N iebuhr’s typology has
1. Avery Dulles, Models of the Church (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1974); Paul S.
Minear, Images of the Church in the New Testament (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1960).
2. H. Richard Niebuhr, Christ and Culture (New York: H arper and Brothers,
1951).
b een taken as norm ative and has been dehistoricized. T he result is

th at being less historically critical than N iebuhr himself, we are all
agreed th at “Christ transform ing culture” is everywhere and always
the norm ative m ode o f the life o f the church. This am ounts to a re-
ductionism that fails to note that b o th in the Bible and in the history
of the church, many o th er m odels and postures have been deem ed
n o t only necessary bu t required.
T here is no single o r norm ative m odel o f church life. It is dan
gerous and distorting for the church to op t for an absolutist m odel
th at it insists upon in every circum stance. Moreover, we are m ore
p ro n e to engage in such reductionism if we do n o t keep alive a
conversation concerning com peting and conflicting models. O r to
p u t it positively, m odels o f the church m ust n o t be dictated by cul
tural reality, bu t they m ust be voiced and practiced in ways th at take
careful account o f the particular time and circum stance into which
G od’s people are called. Every m odel of the church m ust be critically
contextual.
Posing the question about m odels in this way at this time requires
us to think about Christ and culture, to think about the place where
God has p u t us, and to think about an appropriate m odeling for
o u r time and circumstance. It is my intention and hope that my
exploration in the O ld Testam ent will suggest larger lines o f reflec
tion and o ther characterizations of the church far beyond the O ld
Testament.
I
In the center o f the O ld Testament, in the center literarily, histori
cally, an d theologically, is the Jerusalem establishm ent o f m onarchy
and dynasty. It is the royal m ode o f Israel from David in 1000 b . c .e .
to 587 b .c .e . that gives us the core m odel for the people o f God in
the O ld Testament. This m odel dom inates o u r thinking even as it
dom inates the text itself. It is this phase o f Israel’s life that provides
the core of the time line around which we organize all o f o u r think
ing ab out the O ld Testament. T he test o f that reality for m e as an
Old Testam ent teacher is that people regularly say, “Well, o f course,
the O ld Testam ent m odel of faith an d culture does n o t apply to us,
because Israel is both state and church.” T hat statem ent can refer
only to the m onarchal period, bu t it is tho u g h t to be the m odel. In
fact th at convergence o f state and church holds true for only a small
Rethinking Church Models through Scripture 2 65
p a rt o f the O ld Testament, but it is the part that we take for granted

an d the p art th at dom inates our interpretative im agination.
My thesis concerning this season in the life of ancient Israel is
th at as this m odel dom inates o u r reading o f the O ld Testament,
it has served well the interests o f an established, culturally legitimated
church.5 I will identify four features o f that m odel for the people
o f God:
1. T h ere were visible, legitim ated, acceptable, stable, and well-
financed religious structures with recognized, funded leadership.
T h at is, th e tem ple and its priesthood played a legitim ated role in
th e ord erin g o f civil im agination. The role o f the stable tem ple for
this m odel o f church can hardly be overaccented.
2. T h ere was civic leadership in the role of the kings that was
a t least publicly com m itted to the same theological discernm ent as
was the stable religious structure o f the tem ple. Indeed, the tem ple
fu n ctioned as the “royal chapel.” To be sure, the kings o f Jerusalem
were n o t so zealous to enact that theological discernm ent in con
crete ways, except for Hezekiah and Josiah; b u t they were at least
pledged to it, so th at a critical, two-way conversation was formally
possible. It did n o t seem odd for the priest to be in the palace, and
it did n o t seem o d d th at the king should respond seriously to the
finding o f a tem ple scroll (cf. 2 Kings 22).
3. T here arose in this m odel o f the people o f God an intelli
gentsia th at was in p a rt civic bureaucracy and in p art the lobby of
h ig h er education. T he sapiential tradition, the sages o f the book of
Proverbs who perm eate and pervade the literature o f the O ld Testa
m ent, likely were influential in establishm ent thought in this period.
This intellectual opinion accepted the formal presuppositions of
tem ple religion. T h at is, the rule o f Yahweh and the m oral coher
ence o f the world were assumptions o f this com m unity o f reflection.
This intelligentsia, however, exercised considerable freedom and
im agination that drifted toward (a) autonom ous reason and (b) sup
p o rt o f state ideology.4 T h at is, established religion served well the
3. It is not remote from my argum ent that an analogue exists between the royal-
temple establishment in ancient Israel and the Constantinian establishment of the
church. Thus the “end o f the Constantinian period” in the church is congenial to
my argument.
4. For one possible rendering of the social function of the sages, see George
M endenhall, “The Shady Side of Wisdom: The Date and Purpose of Genesis 3,”
in A Light unto My Path, ed. Howard N. Bream, R. D. Heim, and Casey A. Moore
(Philadelphia: Temple Univ. Press, 1974), 319-34.
stabilization o f power and knowledge for some at the expense of

others.5
4. Exactly coterm inal with stable tem ple leadership (priesthood)
an d with civic governm ent th at accepted the presuppositions o f tem
ple religion (king and sages) was the witness o f the prophets, who
regularly voice a m ore passionate, m ore radical, and “p u re r” vision
o f Israelite faith. It may indeed give us pause that the career of the
prophets lasts only during the monarchy. T hat is, this voice o f pas
sion is viable only in a social circum stance w here established powers
are in principle com m itted to the same conversation.
This pattern of stable religious institution, sympathetic civic lead
ership, secularizing intelligentsia, an d passionate prophecy all come
to us as a cultural package. (I dare suggest that this is, mutatis mutan
dis, the governing m odel of m odern, established Christianity in the
West.) As is well known, this entire m odel in ancient Israel was swept
away in a cultural and geopolitical upheaval. Moreover, the reason
given for its being swept away is that the m odel had defaulted in
its God-given vocation an d was no longer acceptable to God.6 Ob
viously, I focus on this crisis because I believe we are in a m om ent
o f like cultural and geopolitical upheaval that undoes us personally
and institutionally. T hat upheaval in our own tim e is jarrin g a n d dis
placing and may be why we now reflect on alternative “m odels.” It
is w orth noting that the collapse and failure o f this m odel in 587
b . c . e . generated in ancient Israel enorm ous pluralism and vitality, as
the com m unity quested about for new and viable m odels o f life and
faith.
II
Happily, the temple-royal-prophetic m odel o f the people o f God is
n o t the only m odel evident in the O ld Testament. T hat m ode was fit
ting an d appropriate for a time o f stable, established power. Israel as
the people o f God in the Old Testament, however, is n o t normatively
a body o f established power. Indeed, one can argue th at such power
as the Davidic m onarchy had was a b rief (four h u n d re d years) and
5. See J. David Pleins, “Poverty in the Social World of the Wise,”JSOT 37 (1987):
61-78.
6. This argum ent is made with greatest clarity and passion in the traditions of
Jerem iah and Ezekiel.
Rethinking Church Models through Scripture 267
passing episode, n o t to be replicated ever again in the life o f this

people o f God.
Thus my second p o in t is that Israel, p rior to the time o f David,
did very well with a n o th er m odel o f its life. If Moses is dated to 1250
b . c . e ., th en we may say that for the period from Moses to David,
1250-1000, Israel o rd ered its life and its faith very differently. Five
characteristics may be identified for this model:
1. T he life an d faith o f Israel were n u rtu red an d shaped by the
exodus liturgy, which confessed that God called for m oral, urgent,
concrete disengagem ent from the power structures and perceptual
patterns o f the day (in this case pharaoh, b u t later the Canaanite
city-states), in o rd e r to be an alternative community. T hat liturgy
regularly battled for the im agination of the com m unity that was
vulnerable to seduction by the dom inant social reality and often
succum bed. (Thus the perennial attraction o f going back to the
fleshpots o f Egypt.) T here is no way to soften or accom m odate the
sharp break th at stands at the h eart of Israel’s self-identity that m ust
always be “ren erv ed ” for new situations o f dom estication. T he com
m unity understands itself, so the liturgy attests, to be a com m unity
b irth ed in a radical a n d costly break.
2. T he m eeting at Sinai and the endless process of reinterpre
tation o f to rah constitute an enterprise whereby Israel continues to
think an d reth in k and rearticulate its faith and practice in light o f its
liberation. T h at practice required endless adjudication am ong con
flicting opinions. If we take Leviticus to be m ore or less conservative
an d D euteronom y to be m ore o r less radical, then the ongoing ten
sion betw een Leviticus and D euteronom y already sets the guidelines
an d perim eters for policy adjudication that is still required o f us.7
This co n tin u ed to rah interpretation exhibits the church seeking to
discern the m ind a n d h ea rt o f God. It is agreed only th at this com
m unity (a) is shaped in som ething like a holy covenant, (b) is a
com m unity liberated by God for new life in the world, an d (c) re
fuses the sustenance o f pharaoh. All else rem ained an d rem ains to
be decided.
3. Early Israel from 1250 to 1000 had none of the features out
lined above for th e p erio d o f the establishment. It h ad no stable
institutions; it h ad no sympathetic, stable civic leadership; it had no
7. Such a juxtaposition o f Leviticus and Deuteronomy is shrewdly rendered by

Fernando Belo, A Materialist Reading of the Gospel of Mark (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis,
1981), 1-86 and passim.
secularizing intelligentsia; and it h ad no prophetic voice. Im agine Is

rael w ithout tem ple, w ithout king, w ithout sages, w ithout prophets!
T h at is how it was. Early Israel had m uch m ore m odest m eans and
modes. Indeed, Israel in this period had to m ake up everything as
it went along. It was a com m unity that had to improvise. Its daring,
risky improvisation can, on the one hand, be seen as an enorm ous
borrow ing from the culture around it. O n the o th er hand, this was a
process o f deep transform ation o f what was borrowed, transform ed
according to its central passion for liberation an d for covenant.
4. Unlike Israel in the m onarchal period, Israel in this early
p erio d was n o t unified, or we may say, was n o t rigorously “connec-
tional.” It was, as the sociologists say, a segm ented com m unity o f
extended family units and tribes. These units h ad no central author
ity o r treasury, n o r were they blood units. They were com m unities
b o u n d by a com m on com m itm ent to Israel’s central story and its
distinctive social passion. It is fair to say that the story o f liberation
and covenant was inordinately im portant but becam e m uch less im
p o rtan t in the period of establishm ent w hen the tem ple m ade the
story less palpable and less urgent. In the early period, lacking vis
ible props, the comm unity depended on the story being regularly
h eard and told.8
5. T he com m unity o f early Israel was socioeconomically m ar
ginal. Its central m etaphor is either the “wilderness” o r the occupa
tion o f m arginal land that no one else wanted. In the “wilderness,”
the com m unity lived by bread from heaven and water from rock,
w ithout guaranteed o r m anaged resources. In its m arginal land, it
d ep en d ed in its times of threat on the move o f the Spirit to give
energy, courage, and power sufficient for the crisis. This was a com
m unity th at lacked the capacity (or perhaps the will) for m ore stable
resources, b u t m anaged by a different posture o f faith and witness.
I suggest then th at in the m ost radical way possible, Israel
was in d eed “a new church start.” A new church start here m eans
the planting of an alternative com m unity am ong people who were
ready fo r risk and who shunned established social relations because
such resources and patterns inevitably led to dom estication an d to
bondage. It is a new church start that specialized in neighbor priori
ties an d had at its center the powerful voices o f Moses an d Joshua
8. George Lindbeck (“The Church,” in Keeping the Faith: Essays to Mark the Cente
nary of Lux Mundi, ed. Geoffrey Wainwright [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1988], 179—208)
has argued that “storied community” is the primary identifying mark of Christian
ecclesiology.
Rethinking Church Models through Scripture
an d Samuel, whose m ain work is voicing and revoicing and voic

ing again the liturgy o f liberation and the covenant of reshaping
com m unal life, power, and vision.
It may give us pause that the tem ple m odel grew increasingly im
p atien t with the voice o f Moses, whose leadership was kept in endless
jeo p ard y an d u n d e r abrasive challenge. It is likely that the narrative
o f the G olden Calf (Exodus 32), w herein Moses rebukes Aaron, is a
partisan assault m ade by the “new church start” m odel against the
established chu rch m odel that is too busy generating structure and
icon.
Ill
At th e o th er e n d o f the O ld Testament, we may identify yet an o th er

m odel for the com m unity o f faith. T he tem ple m odel cam e to an
ab ru p t end in 587 b .C.e . To be sure, there was a second tem ple built
after 520 b .c .e ., b u t it never came to exercise a dom inant place in
the community, n o r to capture the im agination o f subsequent in
terpreters. Clearly with the events of 587, the symbiotic relation of
king an d p ro p h e t collapsed. This new circum stance began in exile
u n d e r the Babylonians and then continued u n d er the patronage o f
the Persians an d finally faced the com ing o f Hellenization. It is worth
n o ting that, characteristically, Christians know very little about this
period, pay little attention to it, and care little for it. Very likely this
lack o f in terest reflects o u r stereotypes of “postexilic Judaism ,” which
go back at least to the caricatures o f Julius W ellhausen. T hat is, our
systemic neglect reflects the anti-Semitic tendency o f o u r interpreta
tive categories. T h ere is at the present time great attention to this
perio d am ong scholars that requires us to move well beyond our
dismissive stereotypes. R ecent scholarship suggests that there was a
greatly variegated practice o f Judaism bespeaking pluralism in this
period. It was a pluralism th at was theologically serious, with enor
m ous im agination in its practice o f faith and vitality in its literary
inventiveness.
My suggestion is th at this exilic/postexilic period after the col
lapse o f the tem ple hegem ony is one to which we m ust pay consid
erable attention fo r it may, mutatis mutandis, be echoed in o u r own
tim e an d circum stance. Five facets o f this m odel may be noted:
1. T he com m unity o f faith had to live in a context where it ex
ercised little influence over public policy. It is debatable to what
extent the im perial overlords exercised benign neglect so long as

they received tax payments an d to what extent they were hostile in
an attem pt to nullify the scandalous particularity o f the Jews. The
stereotype we have is th at the Babylonians were hostile and the Per
sians were benign, bu t that may be an ideological construct pu t
together by those ind en tu red to the Persians’ governm ent. In any
case, after one considers the dram a o f Elijah versus Ahab, Amos ver
sus Amaziah, and Jerem iah versus Zedekiah, one notices th at there
is no such confrontation m odel now available. T he reason is, I sub
mit, th at there is no o n e on the side o f power interested in such
a confrontation, for this com m unity o f faith h ad becom e politically
innocuous and irrelevant.
2. T he tem ptations to cultural syncretism and the disappearance
of a distinct identity were acute, particularly in the Hellenistic pe
riod. T he M accabean period offers us an exam ple o f Jewish boys who
were em barrassed about their circumcision an d who tried to “pass.”
In the m onarchal period, while there was indeed syncretism, there
was no danger o f losing an Israelite identity because public institu
tions supported that identity, and one could afford to be indolent
about it. In contrast, in the exilic/postexilic period, because such
institutions were lacking and because the pattern o f social payouts
ten d ed to invite people away from this com m unity of peculiar iden
tity an d passion, the deliberate m aintenance o f a distinctive identity
required great intentionality.
3. In the face of political irrelevance an d social syncretism, a
m ain task o f the com m unity was to work very h ard and intentionally
at its cultural-linguistic infrastructure.9 Daniel L. Smith has called
th at work the developm ent of strategies and m echanism s for survival
because the th reat was in fact the disappearance o f the com m unity
o f faith into a universalizing culture that was partly hostile to any
particularity an d th at was partly indifferent.10 Am ong these strategies
for survival, three seem crucial for o u r reflection.
This community, in the face o f sociopolitical marginality, worked
at the recovery of m em ory and rootage and connectedness. T he
prim ary evidence of this in the Old Testam ent is the extended ge
9. I deliberately use the phrasing o f George A. Lindbeck, The Nature of Doctrine:

Religion and Theology in a Postliberal Age (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1984). I believe
that the categories of Lindbeck’s argum ent greatly illuminate the practice o f ancient
Israel when it lacked cultural institutions of support.
10. Daniel L. Smith, The Religion of the Landless: The Social Context of the Babylonian
Exile (Bloomington, Ind.: Meyer-Stone, 1989).
nealogies, m ost o f which were articulated in this later period. The

purpose o f genealogy is to connect the threatened present genera
tion with th e horizon o f reference points from the past. T hat is, a
studied recovery o f th e past intends to com bat the “now generation"
an d the disease o f autonom y and individualism that imagines that
we live in a historical vacuum.
4. A second strategy for survival in a com m unity a t the brink of
despair is th e intense practice o f hope. The rhetoric o f the com m u
nity filled its im agination with the quite concrete prom ises o f God.
In its extrem e form , this rhetoric of hope issues in apocalyptic. In
o u r study o f apocalyptic, there is m uch for us to learn about the
sociology o f o u r knowledge. W hen the church is safe an d settled
an d allied with the status quo, it is im patient with apocalyptic. In
deed, m ost critical scholarship has dismissed apocalyptic as “bizarre.”
A m ong the com m unities o f the m arginal, however, who find the
presen t laden with hopelessness, apocalyptic is a rhetorical act of
power. T hus this literature and this rhetoric belong rightly on the
lips o f the “world weary” who see this rhetoric as critically subver
sive o f every status quo. It is telling how that apocalyptic rhetoric in
o u r culture appeals to apparently well-off people who are beset by
despair.
I believe this is im p o rtan t because satiated young people in the
U nited States (including some of our own children) mostly do no t
know that som ething else is yet prom ised by God. T hat future is not
to be w rought by o u r busy, educated hands, bu t by the faithfulness
o f God. T h e com m unity at the m argin, when it functions at all, is a
com m unity o f intense, trustful waiting.
5. T he th ird strategy o f survival worth noting is that the postexilic
com m unity becam e an intensely textual community. It was busy for
m ulating th e text: so it is widely believed that the period around
the exile is precisely the period o f canonization, the m aking o f nor
mative literature. It was also busy interpreting the text. This is the
perio d o f th e em ergence o f the synagogue, which is the place o f the
text; the form ation o f the Beth Midrash, “the house of study”; and
eventually, the appearance o f the rabbis, who are teachers o f the tra
dition. Textual study was focused on the imaginative construal o f a
norm ative text. This imaginative construal of the text th at so charac
terizes Judaism did n o t drive toward theological settlem ent o r m oral
consensus b u t believed th at the act o f construal o f this text itself is a
quintessential Jewish act. Such an act in the midst of marginality did
n o t n eed a controlled outcom e.
W ith a high and passionate view of Scripture, we m ust n o t miss

th e p o in t concerning social power. T he p o in t of sustained tex
tual study is no t objective erudition, inform ation, o r conclusion.
T he p o in t is rather to en ter into and engage with a tradition o f
speech, reflection, discernm ent, an d im agination th at will prevail
over the textual constraints of Persian power and Hellenistic hos
tility. A textless Jew is no Jew at all, sure to be co-opted and sure to
disappear into the woodwork. And my sense is th at a textless church
is increasingly no church at all.
T he New Yorker, of all places, has suggested th at the U nited States
has h ad the Cold War as its organizing story.11 T hat story has now
failed, and our civil community, says the New Yorker, is essentially
“storyless.” So it has always been: the story offered by the dom inant
em pire turns out to be no story at all. These besieged Jews knew that.
They knew n o t only that to keep their young they had to engage the
text on its own terms. They also dared to im agine that their partic
ular text was the voice o f God am ong them , and the voice o f a true
story th at would persist in the face o f em pire and cultural hegemony.
This com m unity developed a deep and vibrant confidence in its text,
which is what the process of canonization is all about.
Thus it is my conclusion that circum stance required a shift from
a temple-royal-prophetic com m unity to a textual com m unity that
struggled with the text in all its truth and in all its dangerous
subversiveness, continually witnessing to an o th er m ode o f reality.
IV
I have suggested three m odels that are intensely reflective o f social
crisis an d historical circumstance: (1) prem onarchal m odel as “new
chu rch start”; (2) m onarchal m odel as tem ple community; (3) post-
exilic m odel as a textual community. It is readily clear th at the
early prem onarchal and the late postm onarchal have m ore in com
m on, an d both are easily contrasted with the security and stability of
the m onarchal m odel. Finally, then, we may reflect on the dialectic
relation of early and late m odels that had so m uch in com m on.
T h ere is no doubt, on the one hand, that the late com m unity
w ent back to the early community. T hat is, it in fact ju m p e d over the
m onarchal period to find resources in the early sources th at could
11. “Notes and Comments,” The New Yorker (May 21, 1990): 27-28.
sustain it. It did n o t find in the period o f the establishm ent what it
n eed ed a n d was driven back to m ore primitive an d less stable m od
els. This is poignantly evident in Ezra, the founder o f Judaism , who
is the second Moses an d who replicated the first Moses.
O n the o th er hand, an d m uch m ore delicately, the late com m u
nity n o t only used the early m aterials bu t also in tru d ed u p o n those
materials, p reem p ted an d reshaped the early traditions for its own
use. In the docum entary hypothesis concerning the Pentateuch, the
Priestly tradition represents a later recasting o f early tradition. T hat
is, th e late m aterial is n o t all in the late p art o f the Bible, b u t some
o f th e later m aterial is cast as early material. The Priestly tradition
is conventionally d ated to the sixth o r fifth century, eith er exilic or
early postexilic. So w hen we read the pre-David texts, if we pay at
tention, m any o f those texts are postexilic and show n o t only the
needs b u t also the faith o f the later community. Four quick examples
dem onstrate late m aterial cast as early material:
1. Genesis l:l-2:4a, on the creation, is a Priestly statem ent that
culm inates in Sabbath as a sacram ent. It is in the late period that
Sabbath em erges as a m ark o f Jewishness, when the Jews in an alien
environm ent had to assert that Jews (and others) were n o t cogs in
any im perial m achine, b u t creatures m ade in G od’s image, destined
for dignity. Thus the late liturgy responded to a social situation of
despair by generating a sacram ent of dignity and liberation.
2. Genesis 17, in which A braham circumcises his offspring, is a
Priestly docum ent, asserting in the late period th at the com m unity
m ust have a visible discipline o f identity. Circumcision, albeit sexist,
is a visible m ark whereby insiders can be distinguished from out
siders, so th at m em bers o f the com m unity know who was m arked
by G o d ’s prom ise an d who stood u n d er G od’s com m andm ent. Cir
cum cision em erged in the postexilic period as a decisive m ark of
Jewishness. Such a text in such a com m unity invites a rethinking
o f the m arking o f baptism in a society that is either hostile or
neglectful.
3. Exodus 16, the story o f m anna in the wilderness, contains
Priestly elem ents. T he wilderness becomes, in such a story, a cipher
for exile, so th at the exiles, m arginated faithful people, live by the
gifts o f God a n d n o t by their m anaged surplus. It is striking th at the
text warns against surplus, the kind o f surplus that m ade the tem
ple possible. Moreover, the text relentlessly culm inates in Sabbath,
the occasion w hen an abundance of food is given (see Isa. 55:1-3;
Daniel 1).
4. Exodus 26 is a design for the tabernacle in a Priestly tradition.

W hile the m odel for the tabernacle no do u b t reflects the tem ple,
the in ten t o f the text is to perm it God mobility, capability o f being
on th e way with G od’s displaced people. This is a G od who has a
portable shrine and who will travel..
T he p oint o f this linkage o f late and early is to suggest that in do
ing textual work (which becam e a prim ary activity o f the m arginated
com m unity), the late com m unity m ust recast what the early com m u
nity h ad do ne for the sake o f its own crisis. This m eans th at after the
establishm ent, as before the establishm ent, this was essentially a new
church start. Postexilic Judaism is a vibrant act o f new generativity,
n o t enslaved to its oldest m em ories and no t im m obilized by its re
cent m em ory o f establishm ent power. Ezra is the great “new church
start” leader. A new church start m eans reform ulating the faith in
radical ways in the midst o f a com m unity that has to begin again. For
Ezra as for Moses, new church starts do no t aim at strategies for suc
cess b u t at strategies for survival o f an alternative community. W hat
m ust survive is not simply the physical community: what m ust also
survive is an alternative com m unity with an alternative m em ory and
an alternative social perception rooted in a peculiar text, identified
by a peculiar genealogy, and signed by peculiar sacraments, a com
m unity o f peculiar people n o t excessively beholden to the em pire
and n o t lusting after dom estication into the em pire.
V
W hether this grid is p ertin en t to o u r present rethinking partly de
pends on the cogency o f the analysis offered o f these traditions.
It also depends partly on a ju d g m en t about w hether we are in a
time when o u r alliance with the dom inant culture is being broken,
w hether the power of the tem ple is broken, w hether the em pire is
indifferent or hostile, w hether the prophets lack a p artn er in con
frontation. This argum ent receives support from three sources at
least:
1. The collapse o f m odernity is a crucial them e in m uch contem
porary social analysis.12 We have to face that o u r dom inant m odels
12. I have found most helpful Stephen Toulmin, CosmopoUs: The Hidden Agenda
of Modernity (New York: Free Press, 1990), but there is a growing literature on the
subject.
o f church have been fashioned for m odernity and dep en d on its

presuppositions, presuppositions that no longer prevail.
2. It is clear th at conventional kinds of theological speech are
n o longer accepted as “public speech.” T hat is, civic leadership is
n o t in any serious way any longer formally com m itted to established
church rhetoric, so th at appeals from o u r tradition are less and less
significant politically.
5. Many o f o u r young (particularly the young o f good liberals
b u t n o t only the children o f liberals) have only the vaguest idea of
w hat we in ten d in o u r faith.
A move from, temple to text, a move I have stated in the boldest
form , requires a reconsideration o f our social location, o f the re
sources on which we can and m ust count and the work we have
to do ab out th e infrastructure that has largely collapsed. While we
may find wilderness-exile m odels less congenial, there is no biblical
evidence th at the God o f the Bible cringes at the prospect o f this
com m unity being one o f wilderness and exile. Indeed this God re
sisted the tem ple in any case (cf. 2 Sam. 7:4-7). In the end, it is
God an d n o t the Babylonians who term inated the tem ple project.
In the face o f th at possible eventuality in o u r own time an d circum
stance, th e ways for the survival o f an alternative im agination in an
alternative com m unity call for new strategies.13
13. See my suggestions in “Disciplines of Readiness,” Occasional Paper no. 1

(Louisville: Theology and Worship Unit, Presbyterian Church [U.S.A.], 1988).
14_______________________
Reflections on Biblical Understandings
of Property
B i b l ic a l FAITH is a peculiar ph en o m en o n in the history o f

world culture. In every phase o f life it seeks to ardculate an alter
native to com m only accepted presuppositions a n d widely practiced
usages. In every phase o f life that alternative is at least strange and
perhaps peculiar; sometimes it is scandalous if n o t absurd. It is the
destiny o f G od’s faithful people in each time and place to explore
the alternatives and find ways o f living them out. O n any given topic,
the biblical m aterial provides a plurality o f alternatives. Am ong them
we may discern some fresh possibilities an d resources for o u r life of
faith.
T he Bible, o f course, is primarily concerned with secular, worldly
m atters as the place where the purposes and power o f God will be
discerned. O f these none is m ore u rg en t o r problem atic than the is
sue o f property, how it is secured an d legitim ated, how it is kept or
lost, to w hat ends it may be used an d enjoyed. T he p ro m in en t m odel
for property in the ancient world and in o u r own time we may desig
nate as “ro y al/u rb an .” This view affirm ed th at “haves” are entitled to
have, w hether the haves are the king, the nobles, the wealthy land
owners, or the m anagers o f legitim ated bureaucracy. Possession gives
legitimacy, and it is legitim ate to so construct social values and social
p rocedures as well as law so that haves may have and legitimately
seek m ore. T he right of the have-nots—citizens, peasants, slaves, all
the powerless ones—is nil. They are entitled to nothing an d m ust
276
Reflections on Biblical Understandings o f Property 277
rely u p o n a generosity and charity upon which they have no claim.

So far as the organization of society is concerned, they do no t really
exist. They lie outside the decision-making process an d are, in fact,
nonparticipants in the history o f the community. T here is nothing
exceptional ab out such a view; it occurs both in the world around
the Bible an d in the narrative o f the Bible itself.
T he Bible articulates an alternative view o f property th at is n o t ex
clusive to the Bible b u t receives its m ost com pelling statem ent there.
It may be designated “covenantal/prophetic.” It holds that the haves
a n d the have-nots are b o u n d in com m unity to each other, th at viable
life depends u p o n the legitim ate respect, care, and m aintenance of
th e have-nots an d u p o n restraint o f the haves so th at the needs and
rights o f the disadvantaged take priority over the yearnings o f the
advantaged. Thus the stress is upon respect and restraint precisely in
those areas of public life where the distribution o f power makes re
spect an d restraint unenforceable. Such a view o f social organization
regards property as resource for the com m on good, as vehicle for
th e viability o f a whole society, as the arena for the developm ent of
public responsibility an d public compassion. In this view, the rights
o f the haves are defined in relation to the rights o f the have-nots.
It is im m ediately evident that the categories for the discussion have
b een significantly changed. No longer is there talk about possession
an d power to control, b u t now there is talk of respect an d restraint,
o f responsibility an d compassion.
T he theological legitim ation for such an unconventional, even
radical view of property is expressed in the com m itm ent of Yahweh,
th e God o f the Bible, as being deeply and primarily directed toward
those w ithout property. T he exodus provides the central m odel for a
redefinition o f property w hen God intervenes o n behalf o f the slaves
against th e establishm ent o f Egypt, on behalf o f those w ithout prop
erty at the expense o f the property owners. Thus the central shaping
o f the question locates the issue precisely at the m eeting place be
tween these two groups. T he dynamic o f this view o f property is
th at in th at m eeting there is intervention and inversion. T he m odel
o f Yahweh on b eh alf o f the powerless against the possessors clearly
m eans to assert th at unbridled an d oppressive power is n o t free to
assemble for itself all the possessions it is able to amass. This under
standing o f society an d the public handling o f property is derived
from the biblical view o f God. Psalm 82 presents one clear an d prim
itive assessment o f the character o f Yahweh in contrast to th at o f the
o th er gods. Yahweh indicts the o th er gods:
Give justice to the weak and the fatherless;

maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute.
Rescue the weak and the needy;
deliver them from the hand of the wicked.
B ut they do no t do that, an d so Yahweh pronounces sentence on the

o th er gods:
You are gods,

sons of the Most High, all of you;
nevertheless, you shall die like men,
and fall like any prince. (Ps. 82:3-4, 6-7)
Yahweh is presented precisely as the one engaged for the well-being

o f those w ithout power to secure their own well-being. And the o th er
gods, who are insensitive and unresponsive to this crunch in social
relationships, are denied their claim to be gods.
This view o f property already anticipated in the exodus event and
ro o ted in the very character o f Yahweh envisions a time when history
will be transform ed, when ownership will be called into question and
redistribution will be based n o t on power bu t on the intrusive pur
pose o f Yahweh for justice and equity. Property is subordinated to
a holy vision o f well-being and freedom . Such a view radically calls
into question the present arrangem ent o f property and looks to its
yielding to a covenantal alternative. Thus even in the m outh o f the
Virgin are these statem ents about property:
He has shown strength with his arm,

he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts,
he has put down the mighty from their thrones,
and exalted those of low degree;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent empty away. (Luke 1:51-53)
T hese two views, royal/urban and covenantal/prophetic, are per

sistently in conflict. T he Bible is never able to resolve them in any
en d u rin g way, and the issue m ust always be faced again. H ere we may
note several occasions when these alternative understandings stand
in sharp tension, even as they do in our time.
In the narrative o f 1 Kings 21, King Ahab an d his Phoenician
queen, Jezebel, em body one view o f property. It is their assum ption
th at royal prerogative legitimates their need for, their lust for, and
th eir capacity to take what others have. They act in ways that are
perfectly legal an d legitim ate on the ground o f royal legitimacy. This
view o f property cannot be separated from an ideology about order
an d governance an d the claim of the royal power to be the only
b arrier against social chaos. It is this pretension to be the guardian
o f life th at legitim ates such policy on property.
N aboth, a small landowner, em bodies an alternative view o f
property. W hile this view o f land may be described simply as tribal-
peasant, it clearly is also a different understanding o f value in
community. This, then, is n o t only a contest between powers and
wills, b u t also a conflict between alternative definitions o f social com
munity. A hab believes that property is to be bought and sold and
trad ed an d bargained. T he process of transm itting property is one
over which powerful hum an persons and agents have full power
an d freedom . T he royal establishm ent lives by such procedures, and
surely the u rb an m entality authorizes such a view.1 In each case a
royal figure acts in his o r h e r power and legitimacy and regards p ro p
erty as a com m odity that can be transm itted between agents who
have pow er to do it.
Conversely, N aboth uses a quite different term , describing the
lands as “in h eritan ce.” T he land is n o t a com m odity b u t a birthright.
It may n o t be exchanged because it is irrevocable. It has a history
th at links it to a person an d that person’s family. No am ount of
power or royal authority can negate those historical roots an d con
nections. W hile Ahab believes that persons, especially royal persons,
can own an d possess an d even seize land, N aboth holds to the no
tion, primitive by contrast, that persons have rootage in an d belong
to th e land. A nd those connections cannot be ignored o r betrayed
for rapacious centers o f power. O f course, this en counter may sim
ply be a conflict betw een royal and tribal orderings o f life. But
the presence o f Elijah, p ro p h e t o f Yahweh, in the story indicates
th at fundam ental covenantal issues are at stake as well as protec
tion of tribal ways. A view o f property that legitimates confiscation
an d authorizes acts o f pow er against the helpless is n o t only doubt
ful politics; it violates Yahweh’s purposes for a p ro p e r com m unity
o rd ered after the m an n er o f the exodus transaction. A nd finally it
brings death.
1. See other royal/urban examples in the purchases by Abraham (Genesis 23),

by David (2 Samuel 24), and by Omri, Ahab’s father (1 Kings 16); see Siegfried
H errm ann, A History of Israel in Old Testament Times (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975),
206, 235, 242.
This narrative is placed in the m iddle o f a long history o f kings

an d prophets. Apparently written out o f primitive memory, it was
used in the exile to reflect on why land is lost. T he placem ent of
the story suggests that land and property are lost and death comes
when th e covenantal notion o f property is violated and roy al/u rb an
values are instituted th at fail to respect the ways in which people
in h erit an d depend upon inherited land and property. T he royal/
urb an way appears in this narrative to be a th reat n o t ju s t to the
rights o f a helpless landholder b u t to the entire community. Thus
the very assum ption that appears legitim ate also appears to be a
th reat endangering the com m unity over which it m eans to preside.
A second presentation of the same conflict occurs in th e post-
exilic com m unity of Jerusalem . N ehem iah sought to reconstruct
Jerusalem as a society in which covenantal norm s would apply in
every phase o f life. T he dem ands of torah are regarded as com
pelling. But even in such an intentional community, destructive
m odels of property do surface. It was within the community, n o t per
verted by any Phoenician princess, bu t am ong the m em bers o f the
covenanting community, that trouble came. Even in that community,
inequality happened because of legitim ated forms of confiscation.
T h ree accusatory statem ents o f deprivation and destitution are m ade
by N ehem iah’s contem poraries against their rapacious fellows:
Some said, “We are many; let us get grain that we may eat and live.”
[They are in danger of death and look to the bare necessities— cf.
Gen. 42:20.]
Some said, “We are mortgaging our fields, our vineyards, and our
houses to get grain because of the famine.”
[There was presumably nothing illegal in such a process; it is
simply the doubtful legal right of some to claim the property of
others.]
Some said, “We have borrowed money for the king’s task on our fields
and our vineyards.” (Neh. 5:2-5)
Even in the intentional com m unity o f Jerusalem , unjust gain by

those who controlled the m achinery o f governm ent was denying
som e th eir personhood, their rightful place in community, an d their
inheritance. It was a perfectly legal bu t destructive way to adm inis
ter property. And the result is that am ong covenanted people (“our
flesh is as the flesh o f o u r covenant fellows”), som e are seizing what
belongs to others a n d denying them what is rightly theirs, no t be

cause of private acts o f greed b u t because of rapacious organization
o f social institutions. It is never claim ed by N ehem iah th at these rep
rehensible acts are illegal b u t only that they deny the vision o f society
to which Ju d a h is com m itted. T he arrangem ent in Jerusalem leads to
o ne o f th e harshest an d m ost pointed understatem ents o f the Bible:
It is not in our power to help it;

other men have our fields and our vineyards. (Neh. 5:5)
T he ro y al/u rb an arrangem ent may be legal b u t it makes people

powerless. It denies them their place in the com m unity and their
place in history. Such a view of property reduces some to slavery,
an d they have no effective m eans of protest or redress.
Against th at stands N ehem iah, bearer of an alternative tradition.
H e is n o t exacdy a p ro p h e t and is often regarded as a ra th e r narrow
sectarian. B ut h ere h e boldly and authoritatively articulates a cove
nantal no tio n o f property that sees it no t as a com m odity available
to th e strong b u t as an inalienable gift o f personhood th at m ust be
m aintained in the face o f exploitative institutions. Property is an ex
tension a n d em bodim ent of personal identity and personal power,
an d it m ust be protected. H e firmly condem ns the conventional way
o f distributing property:
1. H e describes the act: ‘You are exacting interest, each from his
b ro th e r”— th at is, from a fellow m em ber o f the covenant com m unity
(v. 7).
2. H e identifies the wrong: “We, as far as we are able, have
b o u g h t back o u r Jewish b reth ren who have been sold to the nations;
b u t you even sell your b reth ren that they may be sold to us”— that
is, you are acting as though the exodus had never hap p en ed am ong
us (v. 8; cf. Deut. 24:7).
3. H e asserts a covenantal alternative: ‘You are doing w hat is n o t
good”— th at is, what is against covenant, which will violate com m unal
solidarity (v. 9).
4. H e initiates a program of rehabilitation and restoration of
com m unity: “R eturn to them this very day their fields, their vine
yards, th eir olive orchards, and their houses, and the h u n d re d th of
money, grain, wine, a n d oil which you have been exacting o f them ”
(v. 11).
N eh em iah ’s intervention transform ed a com m unity from a de
structive interaction between propertied and propertyless people to
a way o f solidarity. T he narrative does no t depict an isolated inci

dent, though presumably it does rep o rt an actual event. But it also
preserves a m odel of how society can be ordered and how it may
be disordered. Remarkably, the narrative ends with an agreem ent to
covenant and a bold call for the power of God against those who
practice an alternative view o f property:
So may God shake out everyone from house and from property who
does not perform this promise. Thus may they be shaken out and
emptied. And all the assembly said, “Amen,” and praised the Lord.
(v. 13; nrsv )
T he term “shake” is used to describe G od’s action against the

oppressive Egyptians (Exod. 14:27; Ps. 136:15). Yahweh sets them
in th e sea for their resistance to Yahweh’s purposes, which include
the well-being o f the L ord’s people. A biblical view o f property can
n o t disregard this conviction that God shakes up those arrangem ents
th at do n o t h onor G od’s will for community.
N either in the case o f Ahab n o r in the case o f N ehem iah’s con
tem poraries is there any sign o f corruption, illegality, or private
scheming. T he legitimacy o f property as a dim ension o f person-
h o o d is n o t perverted by personal m eanness b u t by public policy
th at serves self-interest against the com m on good and against the
well-being o f those w ithout power to protect themselves.
T he Bible is no t ideological about property. It does no t affirm
o r resist capitalist or com m unist schemes. It rath er urges a quite al
ternative reading o f hum an com m unity that can only be described
as covenantal. Property m ust be m anaged, valued, and distributed
so th at every person of the com m unity is ho n o red and so th at the
well-being o f each is intim ately tied to that of the others. This view
o f property is n o t allied to a primitive tribalism against m ore so
phisticated urban life, bu t it does observe that the tem ptations of
concentration o f urban power when com bined with claims o f reli
gious sanction can indeed destroy hum an freedom and equity, and
on seemingly legitimate grounds.
In Luke 12:13-21, Jesus is confronted with an u rg en t question of
property division. The very notion o f dividing the inheritance smacks
o f a ro y al/u rb an view that regards the inheritance as a negotiable
commodity. Jesus refuses to resolve the issue bu t explores the poten
tial for life and death in the handling o f property. H e observes that
u n b o u n d ed self-seeking brings death. His teaching radically articu
Reflections on Biblical Understandings of Property 2S1
lates the h ard issue o f richness toward self and richness toward God.
W hile the links are n o t explicit, it may be that the m odels we have
suggested, ro y al/u rb an and covenantal/prophetic, find im portant
corollaries in the two forms o f richness stated here. In the com m en
tary Luke has placed after the teaching (w. 22-31; cf. Matt. 6:25-33 on
the sam e teaching in an o th er context), there is a noteworthy ju x tap o
sition o f ideas. T he narrative has been about covetousness, about a way
o f life th at seeks to gain m ore and m ore w ithout limit, apparently for
the m ere accum ulation o f it all, o r at least in the vain hope o f securing
o n e ’s existence against every eventuality. In verses 22 and 25 o f the
teaching, Jesus places n ext to covetousness the problem o f anxiety,
the resdess awareness th at m ore and m ore is n o t enough, the harsh
recognition th at such a pursuit o f property can never yield either
in n er security o r social security. And the com m entary is addressed to
those o f “litde faith” who view life as a problem in self-securing and
who are blind to the well-being that is given by the provision o f God.
It is n o t clear if the teaching is addressed to those who have or do no t
have, b u t it is surely addressed to those who believe that m ore effort
an d m ore energy an d m ore accum uladon can somehow do m ore
for o u r well-being an d jo y than can the graciousness o f God. Such
an enterprise seems surer and m ore controllable and apparendy will
bring the life-giving resources u n d er o u r m anagem ent.
T h e com m entary in verses 22-31 creates an interesting intersec
tion o f coveting, anxiety, and little faith. The Gospel, surely inform ed
by a co v en an tal/p ro p h etic view o f property, has discerned th at cov
eting, driven by a lack o f trust, never leads to enough b u t always to
the endless unsatisfied n eed for m ore. The Gospel protests against
a notion o f property th at regards it never as a trust o r as a gift but
as a source o f security o f which we never have enough. As in other
things, Jesus urged in his teaching and in his ministry the power of
em ptiness, th e richness o f poverty, the security o f living w ithout anx
iety. A nd his faithful com m unity is left to w onder about public policy
th at yields only anxiety an d never security.
We are baptized into an o th er view o f property that is surely
covenantal. Paul expressed it inescapably:
Not that I complain of want; for I have learned in whatever state

I am to be content. I know how to be abased, and I know how to
abound; in any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of
facing plenty and hunger, abundance and want. I can do all things in
him who strengthens me. (Phil. 4:11-13)
T he Bible, o f course, does n o t address problem s o f m odern

econom ic theory. But the m odels we have located suggest a sharp cri
tique o f (1) statism that disregards the precious treasure o f personal
rootage and (2) untram m eled individualism that secures individuals
at th e expense o f the community. For the Bible the issues concern
finally n o t a view o f property but the problem o f private an d pub
lic well-being and the possibilities for securing our existence. M artin
H engel has articulated this in his statem ent: “T he crisis o f property
also proves to be the crisis o f m an, his selfish desire to assert himself,
his struggle for power and his mercilessness.” T he invitation o f the
gospel is to o rd er our com m on life so that property may be a life-
giving resource, when it is purged o f its dem onic power over us.2
Isaiah provides a rem arkable and strange notion o f property and
security:
Those who walk righteously and speak uprightly,

who despise the gain of oppression,
who wave away a bribe instead of accepting it,
who stop their ears from hearing of bloodshed,
and shut their eyes from looking upon evil, they will dwell on the
heights;
their refuge will be the fortresses of rocks;
their food will be supplied, their water assured.
(Isa. 33:15-16; nrsv )
T h at’s b read quite in contrast to the leaven o f the Pharisees (Mark

8:15) !3
2. Martin Hengel, Property and Riches in the Early Church (Philadelphia: Fortress,
1975), 86, 88.
3. For discussion of the topic, see especially Hengel, Property and Riches. Herr
mann (A History of Israel) has identified the purchase of lanci as a peculiarly
Canaanite practice. George Mendenhall has in several places contrasted the prop
erty model of Yahwistic tribalism and an urban/m onarchal model patterned after
the Canaanites. This was first articulated in “The Hebrew Conquest of Palestine,”
BA 25 (1962): 66-87. For a fuller discussion, see George Mendenhall, The Tenth
Generation (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univ. Press, 1973), and even more pointedly,
idem, “The Monarchy,” Int 29 (1975): 155—70. The contrast between these valu
ing systems is even more fully explicated by Norman Gottwald, The Tribes o f Yahweh
(Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1979). On the issue o f economic presupposition in Scrip
ture interpretation, see Jose Miranda, Marx and the Bible (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis,
1974).
15________________
Revelation and Violence:
A Study in Contextualization
T h e CONVICTION th at Scripture is revelatory literature is con

stant and abiding am ong the com m unities o f Jews an d Christians
th at g ather aro u n d the Book.1 But that conviction, constant and
abiding as it is, is problem atic and open to a variety o f alternative
an d often contradictory o r am biguous m eanings.2 Clearly th at con
viction is ap p ro p riated differently in various contexts an d various
cultural settings.3 C u rren t attention to herm eneutics convinces many
o f us th at th ere is no single, sure m eaning for any text. T he revela
tory power o f the text is discerned and given precisely through the
action o f in terp retatio n that is always concrete, never universal, al
ways contextualized, never “above the fray,” always filtered through
vested interest, never in disinterested purity.4
1. David Tracy (The Analogical Imagination [New York: Crossword, 1981], chaps.
3-7) has usefully interpreted this conviction in terms o f the Bible as a “classic.”
2. See David H. Kelsey, The Uses of Scripture in Recent Theolom (Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1975).
3. Jo n Sobrino (The True Church and the Poor [Maryknoll, N.Y: Orbis, 1984],
10-21) has shown how “the Enlightenm ent” as a context of interpretation can be
handled in two very different ways, depending on whether one organizes the matter
around Kant or Marx. Obviously Kant and Marx were interested in very different
notions of what may be enlightened, and the implications for interpretation lead in
very different directions. This difference is illustrative of the interpretative options
more generally available.
4. Jurgen Habermas (Knowledge and Human Interests [Boston: Beacon, 1971]) has
shown how all knowledge is related to matters of interest and that any imagined
objectivity is likely to be an exercise in self-deception. On such presumed objectivity,
see Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza, Bread Not Stone (Boston: Beacon, 1984).
285
If th at is true for the interpretative end o f the process th at re

ceives the text, we may entertain the notion that it is also true for the
interpretative end o f the process that forms, shapes, and offers the
text. T h at is, n o t only in its hearing, but also in its speaking, the text
makes its disclosure in ways that are concrete, contextualized, and
filtered th rough vested interest. W hile this leaves open the charge of
relativism, it is in fact only a candid acknow ledgm ent o f the central
conviction around which historical-critical studies have revolved for
two h u n d re d years. Historical-critical studies have insisted th at a text
can be understood only in context. Historical-critical study holds that
historical context is necessary to hearing the text. But o u r objectivist
ideology has uncritically insisted that knowledge o f historical context
o f a text would let us be objective interpreters w ithout recognizing
that from its very inception, the textual process is n o t and cannot be
objective.5
Historical-critical study thus gives us access to a certain in terp re
tative act that generates the text, b u t that original interpretative act is
no t objective. This acknow ledgm ent o f the form ation o f the text as a
constructive event is a recognition o f what we know about ourselves,
that we are no t only m eaning receivers bu t also m eaning makers. We
n o t only accept m eanings offered b u t construct m eanings we advo
cate.6 T he receiving, constructing act o f interpretation changes both
us and the text. This suggests that Scripture as revelation is never
simply a final disclosure bu t is an ongoing act o f disclosing th at will
never let the disclosure be closed. T he disclosing process is an open
interaction with choices exercised in every step o f interpretation
from form ation to reception.
I
T he em ergence of two m ore or less new m ethods o f Scripture in
terpretation is im portant for the relation between revelation and
interpretation. In this essay I want to consider both o f these m ethods
in relation to the revelatory character o f the text.
5. See the helpful statement by Donal Dorr, Spirituality and Justice (Maryknoll,
N.Y.: Orbis, 1984), 43-51.
6. On the hum an person (and derivatively the human community) as a construc
tor of meanings, see Robert Kegan, The Evolving Self (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
Univ. Press, 1982), and Roy Schafer, Language and Insight (New Haven: Yale Univ.
Press, 1978).
Revelation and Violence: A Study in Contextualization 2X7
T he first o f these m ethods is sociological.7 It has becom e appar

en t that m uch historical-critical study has focused on the question
o f facticity to so large an extent that it has bracketed ou t questions
o f social process, social interest, and social possibility. A num ber of
studies have m ade use o f tools of social analysis to ask about the
social in ten tio n and social function o f a text in relation to the com
m unity an d the situation upon which the text im pinges.8 Am ong the
m ore im p o rtan t o f these studies are N orm an Gottwald’s on the early
period, R obert R. W ilson’s on the prophets, and Paul D. H anson’s on
the later period.9 A program m atic form ula for such an enterprise is
th at it is a “m aterialist” reading,10 a phrase Gottwald would accept for
his work, b u t perhaps Wilson and H anson would not. A “m aterialist
reading” suggests th at the text cannot be separated from the social
processes o u t o f which it em erged. The text also is a product o f the
community. T he com m unity that generates the text is engaged in
production o f the text, and the com m unity that reads it is engaged
in consum ption o f the text, so that the text needs to be discussed
according to processes o f production and consum ption.11 In what
follows, I will want to consider a materialist reading o f a text as an
attem p t to ap p ropriate its revelatory claim. T he text as p roduct for
consum ption suggests the operation o f intentionality and interest in
the shaping o f the text.
T he second m ethod that will be useful for us is literary analysis.
Literary analysis seeks to take the text on its own term s as an of
fer o f m eaning, as an exercise in creative im agination to construct
a world that does n o t exist apart from the literary act o f the text.12
7. See the summary statem ent o f Robert R. Wilson, Sociological Approaches to the
Old Testament (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984).
8. A helpful example of how sociological analysis may shape exegetical interpre
tation is offered in God of the Lowly, ed. Willy Schottroff and Wolfgang Stegemann
(Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1984).
9. Norman Gottwald, The Tribes of Yahweh (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1979);
Robert R. Wilson, Prophecy and Society in Ancient Israel (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979);
Paul D. Hanson, The Dawn of Apocalyptic (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975).
10. See Kuno Fussel, “The Materialist Reading of the Bible,” in The Bible and
Liberation, ed. Norman Gottwald (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1983), 134-46, and more
generally, Michel Clevenot, Materialist Approaches to the Bible (Maryknoll, N.Y: Orbis,
1985).
11. Leonard Boff ( Church: Charisma and Power [New York: Crossroad, 1985], 110—
15) has applied these categories to the sacramental life of the church, even as Fussel
has applied them to the character of the text.
12. For a critical assessment of this interpretative view as it pertains to biblical
interpretation, see John Barton, Reading the Old Testament: Method in Biblical Study
(Philadelphia: Westminster, 1984).
T he nuances o f the text are no t simply imaginative literary moves but

are acts o f world m aking that create and evoke an alternative world
available only through this text. The authoritative voices in such
a m eth o d are Paul Ricoeur and Amos Wilder.13 In O ld Testam ent
studies, am ong the m ore effective efforts at analyses o f literature as
“m aking worlds” are those o f David Gunn, David Clines, and Phyllis
Trible.14
This literary approach seeks to receive the world offered in the
text, even if that world is distant from and incongruent with o u r own.
Thus the text is not a rep o rt on a world “ou t th ere” b u t is an offer
o f an o th er world that is evoked in an d precisely by the text. T he text
“reveals” a world that would no t be disclosed apart from this text.
This view suggests that the alternative to the world o f this text is no t
an objective world “out th ere” bu t is an o th er “evoked world”15 from
an o th er text, albeit a text that may be invisible and unrecognized by
us. We are always choosing between texts, and the interpretative act
is to see the ways in which the world disclosed in this text is a com
pelling, “sense-making” world.16 Literary analysis assumes th at the
text is n o t a one-dim ensional statem ent bu t is an offer of a world
th at has an interiority, in which the text is n o t a m onolithic voice bu t
is a conversation ou t o f which comes a new world.
W hen one puts the sociological and literary m ethods together
in a com m on interpretative act,17 it is clear th at the voices in the
text may speak and be heard and in terp reted in various ways. Some
13. Paul Ricoeur’s work is scattered in many places, but see especially Interpre
tation Theory (Fort Worth: Texas Christian Univ. Press, 1976); idem, The Conflict of
Interpretations (Evanston, 111.: Northwestern Univ. Press, 1974); idem, The Philosophy of
Paul Ricoeur, ed. Charles E. Reagan and David Steward (Boston: Beacon, 1978); and
Semeia 4 (1975). For a most helpful introduction to Amos Wilder’s view o f literature
as world making, see Wilder, “Story and Story-World,” Int 37 (1983): 353-64.
14. David M. Gunn, The Fate of King Saul, JSOTSup 14 (Sheffield: Univ. of
Sheffield Press, 1980); idem, The Story of King David, JSOTSup 6 (Sheffield: Univ. of
Sheffield Press, 1978). See especially David J. A. Clines, I, He, We and They, JSOTSup
1 (Sheffield: Univ. of Sheffield Press, 1978). Phyllis Trible, God and the Rhetoric of
Sexuality (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978); idem, Texts of Terror (Philadelphia: Fortress,
1984).
15. Milton L. Myers (The Soul of a Modem Economic Man [Chicago: Univ. of Chi
cago Press, 1983]) has shown how the work of Hobbes is “the text" for Adam Smith,
which in turn has become the text for the capitalist world, even if unacknowledged.
16. On the active power of “sense making” as the production of sense, see David
Jobling, The Sense of Biblical Narrative, JSOTSup 7 (Sheffield: Univ. of Sheffield Press,
1978), especially 1-3; and Walter Brueggemann, “As the Text ‘Makes Sense,’” The
Christian Ministry 14 (November 1983): 7-10.
17. See my attempt at such a methodological interface in David’s Truth (Philadel
phia: Fortress, 1985).
Revelation and Violence: A Study in Contextualization 289
voices may be shrill an d dom ineering; some may be willingly quiet;

some may be silenced and defeated. It is, nonetheless, the entire
conversation in the text that discloses an alternative world for us.
This Scripture as revelation is not a flat, obvious offer o f a conclusion
b u t is an ongoing conversation that evokes, invites, and offers. It is
the process o f the text itself, in which each interpretative generation
participates, th at is the truth of revelation. Such an interaction is not
a contextless activity, b u t the context is kept open and freshly avail
able, d ep en d in g on the social com m itm ents of the in terp reter and
the sense-making conversations heard in the act o f interpretation. In
this strange interpretative process, we dare to claim and confess that
G od’s fresh w ord an d new truth are m ediated and m ade available
to us.
II
To pursue this m atter o f “revelation in context,” I will address an
exceedingly h ard text in the Old Testament, Joshua 11. T he reason
for taking u p this text is to deal with the often asked an d trouble
som e question, W hat shall we do with all the violence and bloody
war th at are carried o u t in the Old Testam ent in the nam e o f Yah
weh?18 T he question reflects a sense that these texts of violence are at
least an em barrassm ent, are morally repulsive, and are theologically
problem atic in the Bible n o t because they are violent b u t because
this is violence eith er in the nam e o f or at the hand of Yahweh.
T h e question we shall consider is: How are these texts o f violence
to be u n d ersto o d as revelation? W hat is it that is disclosed an d how
shall this disclosure be received as serious, authoritative, and binding
as th e only rule for life and faith? We shall consider the revelatory
question in two dim ensions. The first is revelation within the text.
W hat has drawn m e to Jo sh u a 11 is the awareness that within the text
as such very little, surprisingly little, is direcdy assigned to Yahweh as
18. O n the general question, see Patrick D. Miller Jr., “God the Warrior,” Int
19 (1965): 39—46; Paul D. Hanson, “War and Peace in the Hebrew Bible,” Int 38
(1984): 341-62; Diane Bergant, “Peace in a Universe of Order,” in Biblical and Theo
logical Reflections on “The Challenge of Peace,” ed. John T. Pawlikowski and Donald
Senior (Wilmington, Del.: Michael Glazier, 1984), 17-30; H. Eberhard von Waldow,
“The Concept of War in the Old Testament,” HBT 6 (1984): 27-48. The journals
in which the H anson and von Waldow articles appear have entire issues devoted to
the subject of war and peace in the Bible. See also Robert M. Good, “The Just War
in Ancient Israel,” JBL 104 (1985): 385-400.
revelation. So we ask how the characters in this text discerned G od’s

revelation. Second, we shall go on to ask about how the whole of the
text is taken as revelation, once the text is stabilized for us. It may well
be th at this distinction will be useful in understanding how this text
should be handled in faith com m unities that celebrate revelation but
flinch from violence linked to God. T he w arrant for violence within
the text may yield a very different disclosure when the text is taken
by us as a stable revelatory unit. In o u r text what Joshua and ancient
Israel took as revelation may provide a clue for our hearing the text
as revelatory. But the two may no t be identified or equated.
Ill
We may begin with a sum m ary o f som e standard critical observa
tions.19 T he first half o f the book o f Joshua, chapters 1-12, concerns
the conquest o f the land do n e by God, whereas chapters 13-22 con
cern the division o f the land done by Joshua. The book o f Joshua
is a theological account in which God acts directly as an agent in
th e narrative. W ithin chapters 1-12, the specific narrative accounts
concern:
Joshua 2 and 6: the conquest of Jericho;
Joshua 3 and 4; the crossing at Gilgal;
Joshua 5: the institution of circumcision;
Joshua 7 and 8:1-29: the crisis of Achan and Ai;
Joshua 8:30-35: the altar at Shechem;
Joshua 9: the subservience of the Gibeonites;
Joshua 10: the taking o f the south.
A lbrecht Alt has suggested that these narratives conclude with ae-
tiological formulas that show they were originally teaching tales to
justify present phenom ena. H e has observed that these aetiological
narratives tend to be located in a narrow geographical range with
p articular reference to the tribal area o f B enjam in.20
19. For a summary of the critical discussion, see Brevard S. Childs, Introduction to
the Old Testament as Scripture (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979), 241-44.
20. Cf. Albrecht Alt, “Josua,” in Werden und IVesen des Alten Testaments, ed. F. Stum-
m er and J. Hempel, BZAW 66 (Berlin: Topelmann, 1936) (reprinted in Kleine
Schriflen zur Geschichte des Volkes Israel [Munich: Beck, 1953], 1:176-92).
Revelation an d Violence: A Study in Contextualization 29 J
Jo sh u a 1, 11:16-23, an d 12 are m ore general statem ents that make

m ore sweeping claims. It seems apparent that chapters 1 and 12
are placed as a theological envelope for the m ore specific accounts.
C h ap ter 11 tends to move toward a com prehensive sum m ary (w. 16-
23) b u t focuses on the specific m atter of Hazor, the great city of the
n o rth (w. 1-15).21 T hus it has affinities with the generalizations of
12 b u t also balances the southern account o f 10 with this n o rth ern
re p o rt on Hazor.22 To the extent that this chapter generalizes, it may
also reflect D euteronom ic stylization.
W ithin ch apter 11, we may present an overview o f the following
elem ents:
1. In verses 1-5, the king of H azor takes the initiative in mobiliz
ing m any o th er kings to resist Israel. It is im portant that in this case it
is n o t Israel who is the aggressor.23 T he inventory o f m obilized kings
m ust be a generalized an d stylized list. It includes kings o f the north,
kings o f th e south, an d nations that characteristically occur in the
stereotypical D euteronom ic list o f seven nations (Deut. 7:1; 20:17).
T hus the list is n o t to be taken as historically literal. W hat interests
us ab out th e list is th at it reflects the power o f city-states, arm ed
with “many horses a n d chariots.” Following the general analysis of
Gottwald,24 the city-states are to be understood as m onopolies of
socioeconom ic, political power m anaged in hierarchal and oppres
sive ways. “Horses a n d chariots” reflect the strength an d m onopoly
o f arm s th at are necessary and available for the m aintenance o f the
econom ic an d political m onopoly.25
21. We will consider both parts of the chapter in order to attend to the dynamics
of the text. In critical analysis, the first part of the chapter is a specific narrative,
whereas the latter part is a general theological summary. Literarily the two parts
serve very different functions.
22. See Robert G. Boling and G. Ernest Wright (Joshua, AB 6 [Garden City,
N.Y.: Doubleday, 1982], 303-14) for the notion of a two-stage presentation of the
conquest. See the general discussion of Martin Noth, The Deuteronomistic History,
JSOTSup 15 (Sheffield: Univ. of Sheffield Press, 1981), 36-41.
23. See Boling and Wright, Joshua, 303.
24. Norman Gottwald, The Tribes of Yahweh (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1979), 389-
419. See also George M endenhall, “The Hebrew Conquest of Palestine,” BA 3
(1970): 100-120.
25. See Gottwald, Tribes of Yahweh, 542-43. Boling and Wright (Joshua, 307) sug
gest only that chariots are “new-fangled,” and therefore Israel did not have them.
I suggest that such a chronological explanation misses the point of the theological
and sociological practice to which Israel is committed.
2. Verses 16-2026 are a sum m ary that roughly corresponds to the

sum m ary o f verses 1-5, where we have the list o f enem ies o f Israel.
H ere (in w. 16-20) we are told that Joshua defeated all o f them .
3. Verses 21-23 are concerned with a special observation about
the Anakim who were defeated, except in cities assigned to Philistia.
This section, according to M artin Noth, belongs to the D euteronom
istic H istorian. It makes a transition to the distribution o f land in
what follows, and it ends with the standard form ula about rest in the
land. Thus in verses 1-5 and 16-23 we have sweeping generalizations
th at fram e the chapter, which is built around an older story. T here
has been a great effort against Israel, but it, with the intervention of
Yahweh, has won, even against enorm ous odds.
4. In verses 6-9, we have the central narrative elem ent o f the text,
the com m and o f Yahweh (v. 6), the responsive action o f Joshua (w. 7-
8), and the concluding form ula that Joshua obeyed the com m and o f
Yahweh (v. 9). This unit is o f particular interest because verse 6 is
the only speech o f Yahweh in the entire chapter an d indeed the only
speech from anyone. All the rest is narrative. For o u r interest in rev
elation, we may expect th at this speech elem ent will be o f particular
im portance.
5. In verses 10-15, we have a battle rep o rt concerning the actual
conquest o f Hazor, whose king m ade the initial move toward war
in verse 1. These verses are of special interest, as R obert Polzin has
seen, because o f the settlem ent m ade on the traditional com m and
o f heremP
Thus ch apter 11 is fram ed by a general sum m ary (w. 1-5, 16-23).
T he latter p art o f the envelope may n o t all be o f a piece, b u t it is
all summary. Inside the framework are two m uch m ore specific state
m ents th at concern us, verses 6-9 on com m and and obedience, and
verses 10-15 on the destruction o f H azor and the problem o f herem.
Even though the chapter tends to be handled as a generalizing con
clusion, there is little here that is specifically Deuteronom istic. The
parts th at concern us stand largely free o f that influence, except
perhaps the form ula of obedience in verse 10.
26. Boling and Wright (Joshua, 316) consider this as belonging to the Deuter
onomistic Historian; Noth (Deuteronomistic History, 38) refers to a “compiler” and
assigns 20b to the Deuteronomistic Historian. For our purposes, such a refinement
of literary analysis is neither necessary nor useful.
27. Robert Polzin, Moses and theDeuteronomist (New York: Seabury Books), 123-26.
Revelation a n d Violence: A Study in Contextualization 291
IV
I h o p e it will be clear that I wish to deal with the sociology of the
m onarchal period seriously, even if no t directly. I understand m onar
chy in Israel, o r am ong its neighbors, to be a political concentration
o f power an d an econom ic m onopoly of wealth. W hen m onar
chy appears in Israel, it comes along with such concentration and
monopoly, though o f course there are im portant m odels available
fo r royal Israel p rio r to David and Solom on. Such concentrations
an d m onopolies have to be m aintained and therefore defended be
cause such m onopoly is n o t welcomed by everyone, especially those
who are disadvantaged by it and exploited for it. Interestingly, Gott
wald has suggested th at the form ation o f the m onarchy (so disputed
in 1 Samuel 7-15) is n o t simply defense against the Philistines, as
is a conventional view, b u t is the necessary and predictable political
co u n terp art o f a growing econom ic surplus and monopoly.28 T hat
is, the state did n o t g ather the surplus, bu t the accum ulated, dis
pro p o rtio n ate surplus necessitated the state in ord er to legitimate,
m aintain, an d p ro tec t a surplus that was already partly in hand.
In Jo sh u a 11, we have no Israelite monarchy. But we do have
m onarchies th at in this narrative are antagonistic to Israel. Following
th e m odel o f Gottwald, I regard “Israel” as an egalitarian, peasant
m ovem ent hostile to every concentration, surplus, an d monopoly.
Conversely it follows then that every such city-state as those listed
in verses 1-5 would regard Israel as a threat, for Israel practiced
a social alternative th at m ust be destroyed. Thus we can read the
m obilization o f the H azor king with sociological realism as a con
flict betw een com peting social systems.29 T he initiative o f the king of
H azor is preem ptive.
We may begin o u r textual analysis by noting the threefold refer
ence to “horses an d chariots” in this narrative. First, in verse 4, the
m ilitary m obilization o f city-states is routinely described as “horses
an d chariots.” Israel has none, for horses and chariots are tools of
states and em pires, necessary and paid for in o rd er to guard the
monopoly. T h at is a given in this ancient society.
28. Norman Gottwald, “Social History of the United Monarchy” (paper read to
the SBL seminar on “Sociology of the Monarchy,” December 20, 1983).
29. Boling and Wright (Joshua, 310) come close to such a conclusion when they
speak of “the royal families and ruling aristocracies” and then o f the “peasants.”
They have not, in my judgm ent, pursued far enough the implications of such a
social analysis.
In verse 6, “horses an d chariots” are m entioned a second time,

this time in a statem ent by Yahweh:
Do not be afraid of them, for tomorrow at this time I will give over all
of them, slain, to Israel; you shall hamstring their horses, and burn
their chariots with fire.
This is a remarkably interesting speech.30 First it is an assurance, “Do

n o t fear.” It is as though Yahweh recognizes how dangerous the situa
tion is for Israel— the military contest is a hopeless mismatch. It is an
uneven m atch because the city-states have advanced military technol
ogy, and Israel has no access to such technology. T he only counter
to military technology, according to the narrative, is the powerful
liberating voice of Yahweh. Second, as often following “Do n o t fear,”
th ere is a prom ise of a quite specific kind, introduced by ki (for):
“tom orrow I am giving them over to you slain.”31 Third, after the
prom ise and the assurance is the com m and, with the word order
inverted, form ing a chiasmus with the prom ise for accent:
Their horses you will hamstring,

their chariots you will burn in fire.
This speech (v. 6) is at the center o f o u r interest in revelation, for it is

G od’s only speech in this chapter. This speech, including assurance,
prom ise, and com m and, is addressed only to Joshua the leader, not
the troops as in Deut. 20:2-4. All o f the real action in this u n it is
to be do n e by Israelites, who are to sabotage an d immobilize the
im perial weapons o f war. Yahweh undertakes no direct action. We
should note that in this direct com m and, the only object o f violence
is horses and chariots, th at is, weapons. T here is nothing here about
b u rn in g cities, killing kings or people, or seizing war booty. Yahweh’s
is a very lean m andate that addresses the simple, m ost im portant
issue, the military threat o f m onarchal power against this alternative
com m unity lacking in military technology.
30. Edgar W. Conrad (“The ‘Fear N ot’ Oracles in Second Isaiah,” VT 34 [1984]:
129-52) has greatly contributed to our understanding of this genre of speech. See,
more extensively, Edgar W. Conrad, Fear Not Warrior, BJS 75 (Chico, Calif.: Scholars
Press, 1985). Conrad has shown how the formula may yield either an assurance or
a command. In o ur text, it yields both. Cf. 8-10.
31. On the function and power of the particle ki, see James Muilenburg, “The
Linguistic and Rhetorical Usages of the Particle kt in the Old Testament,” in Hearing
and Speaking the Word, ed. Thomas F. Best (Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1984),
208-33.
Revelation and Violence: A Study in Contextualization
We may w onder m ost about what exactly Yahweh p. oiniscs «> do.
After the assurance an d the rath er nonspecific participle (“1 am giv
ing”), Yahweh does nothing and m andates Israel to do the action.
In d eed Yahweh does n o t even prom ise to do anything beyond a gen
eral com m itm ent o f solidarity and legitim ation. T he action is left to
Jo sh u a and to Israel.
T he th ird reference to “horses and chariots” (v. 9) reports that
Jo sh u a did as com m anded and destroyed the military weapons of
the military city-states. Thus there are three references to horses and
chariots: (1) T he city-kings had them (v. 4); (2) Yahweh m andates
th eir destruction (v. 6); and (3) Joshua destroys them as com m anded
(v. 9).
T he first an d th ird references are factual and descriptive, before
an d after th e war. T he second, in the m outh o f Yahweh, is won-
drously unlike the o th er two. It is the speech o f Yahweh. H ere the
text is n o t historically descriptive b u t theologically evocative. T he
disclosure is th at Yahweh gave permission for Joshua and Israel to
act for their justice an d liberation against an oppressive adversary.
This revelatory word o f Yahweh, given directly w ithout conduit or
process, is only authorization for a liberating m ovem ent th at is sure
to be violent, but only violent against weapons. We do n o t know by
w hat m eans this word has been given and received, an d the narra
tive has no interest in that. T he best guess is that it was an oracle
to an officer, b u t th at is to speculate outside the narrative presen
tation. But we do know that the disclosure of perm it was taken
seriously, n o t do u b ted, regarded as valid, and acted upon. W hat is
revealed is th at Yahweh is allied with the m arginalized, oppressed
peasants against the m onopoly o f the city-state. It is n o t a sum m ons
to violence (though its practice m ight be construed so) b u t only a
p erm it32 th at Jo sh u a ’s com m unity is entitled to dream , hope, and
32. O n the psychology of granting and receiving permission, see Eric Berne ( What
Do You Say after You Say Hello1? [New York: Bantam, 1972], 123-25; and idem, Beyond
Games and Scripts [New York: Ballentine, 1976], 399) for a definition of the term
in the context of one theory of therapy. The “granting of permission” can be done
by one in authority to authorize another to act in freedom and courage against
old patterns of coercion and repression. John Quigley has helped me find these
references and has also helped me see the dangerous distortion of the notion in
popular usage with reference to ideological autonomy, which gives “permission” to
do what one wants. But free of this distortion, I suggest the notion illuminates
our passage and the revelatory speech of Yahweh. The Israelites, on any sociologi
cal analysis, were disadvantaged and oppressed. The “permit o f Yahweh” authorized
this community to act by “hamstringing and burning” for the sake of their own
social destiny. W ithout such “permission,” they would have continued in their op
im agine freedom and is entitled to act upon th at dream , hope, and

im agination.
Now o u r focal question is to ask, Would the God o f the Bible
make such a disclosure as a perm it for liberation th at entailed vi
olence against oppressive weapons and, by inference, against the
systems that sanction such weapons?
1. We are bound to say that such a revelatory word is congruent
with the fabric o f exodus faith, for Yahweh is there presented as a
force for justice and liberation against concentrations of oppressive
power. Yahweh’s com m itm ent is sum m arized in the slogan, “Let my
people go” (Exod. 5:1; 7:16; 8:1, 20; 9:1, 13; 10:3).
2. T he disclosure o f Yahweh is not intervention b u t authoriza
tion. T he claim o f the narrative here is exceedingly m odest. How
in d eed is liberation to happen in such a context? Israel, according
to this narrative, is no t the recipient o f a supernatural intervention.
If justice and freedom are to come, Yahweh’s way is through actual
historical agents who act on their own behalf. T hat is what the text
narrates. This rather obvious fact is o f exceeding im portance for the
general interpretative posture taken here.
3. T he authorization is o f Joshua, his leadership, and his strat
egy. No one else has access to the disclosure. No one else h eard the
disclosure. No one else knows what was said. Revelation is linked
to authorized com m unal authority, or, in o th er categories, the rev
elation is the property o f the agents who hold a m onopoly of
in terp retation.33
4. T he authorizing disclosure from God coheres with the dream s
and yearning o f this oppressed community, has credibility only in
th at community, and cannot be rem oved from that com m unity for a
m ore general statem ent. It was Israel’s long-standing and courageous
dream o f an alternative social organization rooted in the m em ory of
Moses th at is the m aterial and m ode out o f which revelation is articu
lated. O nce this com m unity has glimpsed the imaginative possibility
o f justice it had glimpsed in the exodus, it could n o t understand it
self unauthorized by G od’s disclosure. T he disclosure that authorizes
lives very close to the actual experience o f the community. T h at is,
pressed, marginalized condition. Such revelatory permission is a counterpart to the

“revolutionary impetus” of these narratives.
33. On the monopoly of interpretation and the power and the problems it yields,
see Frank Kermode, The Art of Telling (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univ. Press,
1983).
Revelation and Violence: A Study in Contextualization 297
revelation is n o t an act extrinsic to the social process but is an act

precisely em b ed d ed in the social community.34
Instead o f suggesting th at revelation comes down to intrude in
the community, I subm it th at this revelation rises up ou t o f the hurl
a n d the ho p e o f this community, so that the dream is understood as
certified from heaven; an d as that dream is certified from heaven, il
has enorm ous credibility in the life o f the com m unity on earth. The
d ream o f liberation an d justice has credibility theologically because
to deny it is to deny everything Israel knows about Yahweh, the Lord
o f the exodus. T he revelatory word has credibility sociologically be
cause th e certitude o f disclosure is no t simply religious certitude bu t
a m uch m ore em bedded, visceral, existential certitude that would
n o t be denied. Israel knows deep in its own h u rt and hope that this
perm it is G od’s tru th and G od’s will.
Revelation for this com m unity in the text is the convergence o f
the old m em ory o f liberation from the exodus,35 the peasant yearn
ing for liberation an d justice,36 and the form al speech rep o rted by
established leadership. All three elem ents are indispensable. The
disclosure can n o t be denied because passion for liberating justice
can n o t be d en ied Yahweh, who is known in the exodus tradition.
T he disclosure can n ot be denied because the future social possibility
is now unleashed in peasant im agination and will n o t be nulli
fied. T he disclosure cannot be denied because the authorization is
re p o rted on th e lips o f the authorized leader, Joshua, who is under
stood as fulfilling the function o f Moses. T he outcom e is that no
m onarchal “horses a n d chariots” are perm itted to stand in the way
o f such a prom ise from heaven o r such a possibility on earth. All
th ree elem ents, memory, yearning, and leadership, converge in this
perm it o f Yahweh.
T he revelatory speech o f Yahweh ends this way: “ [Y]ou will ham
string th eir horses, a n d b u rn their chariots with fire.” W hen God
34. O n the doing of theology that is embedded in local community experience,

see Robert J. Schreiter, Constructing Local Theologies (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1985).
35. There is of course a methodological problem with making old memory a part
of revelation: it leaves open the charge of infinite regress. When one finally reaches
the event behind which there is no old memory, that event is no doubt a theophany.
On the reality of older memory in the faith of Israel, see the proposal of Gottwald,
Tribes of Yahweh, 483-97 and passim.
36. Methodologically it is the peasant yearning that is the new and decisive in
gredient in our understanding. It is this yearning publicly expressed that evokes
the old memory in its powerful authority and mobilizes the present leadership also
accepted as authoritative.
speaks, we may expect som ething m ore respectable, som ething like,
“This is my beloved son,” or “three persons and one substance,” or
“grace alone, Scripture alone, Christ alone.” But h ere it is “ham string
th eir horses.”
In a classic essay, H. Richard N iebuhr has seen that revelation is
em bedded in community.37 Jo h n McKenzie has argued m ore specif
ically the same way.38 Both N iebuhr and McKenzie have seen that
revelation and inspiration arise as a certitude given and received
in a community. But it is characteristic of that generation o f schol
arship represented by N iebuhr and McKenzie that the notion of
com m unities o f revelation is understood w ithout adequate reference
to specific sociological circum stance.39 T hat is, if com m unities m e
diate revelation from God, surely different com m unities in different
circum stances will m ediate different disclosures. T he com m unity of
the king o f H azor m ust have m ediated G od’s in ten t for greater
arm ed security. But to the com m unity of Israel (understood as a
com m unity o f m arginality), which has given us this text we claim
as revelatory, what God discloses is a perm it o r authorization to de
mobilize such royal arms that are threats to hum an welfare and
specifically to the welfare o f this com m unity o f marginality. If rev
elation is m ediated through community, revelation will reflect the
tru th available to that com m unity in its life, memory, and experi
ence, and will tend therefore to be partisan disclosure. I subm it that
this com m unity o f oppressed peasants through which the winds o f
liberation blow could n o t m ediate any o th er revelation from God
an d could n o t doubt this disclosure. T he high God o f eternity dwells
with the lowly (Isa. 57:15-16). For that reason, the God o f these
tribes decrees ham stringing horses as one concrete practice o f truth.
T he tru th o f the disclosure is that it makes life possible for the
community.
37. H. Richard Niebuhr, The Meaning of Revelation (New York: Macmillan, 1962).
38. Jo h n L. McKenzie, “The Social Character of Inspiration,” CBQ 24 (1962):
115-24.
39. The general notion of Niebuhr and McKenzie is inadequate because they did
not reckon with the particularity of the community and therefore the particularity of
its revelation. Each community operates through a particular rationality. W hen the
socioeconomic particularity of a community is ignored, communities of marginality
are likely to be thought of as irrational, so that their claim to have revelation is
discredited. This dismissal of marginality as a habitat for revelation operates both
sociologically and psychologically. On the latter, see Brian W. Grant (Schizophrenia:
A Source of Social Insight [Philadelphia: Westminster, 1975]), who considers that the
insights of schizophrenics may be revelational, even if an odd rationality that people
with “horses and chariots” are likely to misunderstand and dismiss.
Except for Yahweh’s perm it and m andate in verse 6, all action

in th e narrative is left to Joshua and Israel. In their obcdicm v to
an d trust in Yahweh’s perm it, Joshua and Israel do everything that is
needed, while Yahweh does nothing. It is clear that Yahweh in fact
does n o t “act” in this narrative, except in the im portant sense that
the entire event occurs as Yahweh’s act.40 Yahweh m ade a prom ise in
verse 6: “I will give over.” In verse 8 that prom ise is kept: “And Yah
weh gave them into th e h an d o f Israel.” We are not told what Yahweh
did o r how it was done. Evidently Yahweh has authorized and legiti
m ated, and th at was enough. Even in verse 20, where the rhetoric is
escalated, Yahweh does n o t act in a concrete way. Thus I suggest that
revelation in this narrative is n o t self-disclosure of God, fo r nothing
new is shown o f God, but revelation is the gift o f authorization by
which Jo sh u a and Israel are legitim ated for their own acts o f libera
tion, which from the side of the king of H azor are perceived as acts
o f violence. W hat is “dis-closed” is that the world o f the city-kings is
n o t closed. It is th e purpose o f “horses and chariots” to close that
world and so to re n d e r the peasants hopeless and helpless.41 But the
world ostensibly controlled by oppressive city-kings is now dis-closed,
shown to be false, an d broken open to the joy o f Israel. T he reve
latory decree of Yahweh breaks the fixed world of city-kings. W hat
we label as violence o n Yahweh’s p art is a theological perm it that
sanctions a new social possibility.
T h at single, simple act o f authorization is, religiously speaking,
everything. It perm its Israel to act. T he m ain verbs of this chapter,
therefore, have Israel, n o t Yahweh, as subject: they fell u p o n them
(v. 7); they sm ote (w. 8, 10, 14, 17); and they utterly destroyed (w.
11, 12, 20, 21).
T h e word o f Yahweh, given only to Joshua, created new historical
and social possibilities fo r Israel, out of which Israel was able to act.
T he result is th e com plete transform ation o f the power situation of
the world o f Israel, a transform ation wrought by the direct an d active
intervention o f Israel, n o t of Yahweh.
This is n o t to m ake a liberal claim that “God has no hands
b u t ours.” Yahweh does the one thing needful. Yahweh legitimates
40. O n the problematic o f “act of God,” see Gordon D. Kaufman, “On the
Meaning of ‘Act of God,’” H TR 61 (1968): 175-201.
41. See my chapter, “Blessed Are the History-Makers,” in Hope Within History
(Atlanta: John Knox, 1987), 49-71. I have argued that “history making" depends
on vulnerability. Those who move from coercive strength are characteristically
“history-stoppers” because they want to stop the ongoing conversation about power.
self-assertion on the part o f the powerless. T he juxtaposition o f

G od’s power and hum an power needs to be nuanced very differendy
am ong those with horses and chariots. But this is n o t their text.
i
V
T he simple sequence o f statem ents on horses and chariots (w. 4, 6,
9) is unam biguous. Horses an d chariots are a th reat to th e social
experim ent that is Israel. Horses and chariots are unqualifiedly bad
and unalterably condem ned. They symbolize and em body oppres
sion. They function only to im pose harsh control on some by others.
They m ust be destroyed. Yahweh authorizes their destruction. Joshua
an d Israel act in obedience to Yahweh’s sovereign com m and and de
stroy them . Horses an d chariots, according to this narrative, have no
positive, useful purpose in the world o f ancient Israel, for they serve
only to m aintain the status quo in which some dom inate others. Is
rael as a liberated com m unity o f the exodus has no n eed for such
a m ode o f social power.42 Moreover, Yahweh is the sworn enem y o f
such m odes of power.
Israel’s sense of cattle, in this narrative an d generally, is very dif
ferent. Cattle are never instrum ents o f war o r oppression. They may
be a m easure o f affluence (Gen. 32:15; Jon. 4:11), bu t they only serve
as m eat and milk, for dom estic and com m unal well-being. Because
they are no t symbols o f dom ination and oppression as are horses
and chariots, a simple social analysis o f cattle is n o t adequate. In his
close reading o f Joshua 11, Polzin has discerned a certain playful
ambiguity in the narrative concerning cattle and their disposition,
an ambiguity that Israel does n o t have about horses and chariots 43
Because cattle are n o t sociologically unam biguous for Israel as are
horses and chariots, Israel’s sense of Yahweh’s will concerning cat
tle also is no t unam biguous. Horses are clearly for dom ination. But
cattle may be either seductive o r sustaining, an d so Yahweh’s will for
th eir treatm ent requires m ore careful, nuanced attention.
We have seen that verse 6 gives an unam biguous com m and on
horses and chariots. They are to be destroyed. C oncerning cattle and
42. It is interesting that horses are never listed in the stylized catalogues of bless
ings bestowed by God (cf. Job 42:12-16; Deut. 11:15; 28:4; Josh. 1:14; 2 Kings 3:17).
Whereas cattle belong in such a list, horses regularly are treated as an imposition
upon a community by an occupying force, not as a gift to be treasured in the
community. Horses are characteristically threats, not prizes or treasures.
43. Polzin, Moses, 113-24.
Revelation an d Violence: A Study in Contextualization 301
o th er spoil, however, the narrative departs from the com m and of

verse 6 in two contrasting directions.
1. A total a n d massive destruction is com m anded, a harsher de
struction th an th at authorized in verse 6: (a) Herem, the ban, is
practiced, “as Moses the servant o f the Lord had com m anded”
(v. 12). (b) Cattle are taken as spoil, but every m an is smote: “[A]s
th e Lord h ad com m anded Moses his servant, so Moses com m anded
Joshua, so Jo sh u a did; he left nothing u ndone o f all th at the Lord
h ad com m anded Moses” (v. 15). (c) Herem is practiced again: “It
was the L o rd ’s doing to h ard en their hearts that they should com e
against Israel in batde, in o rd e r that they should be utterly destroyed,
an d should receive n o mercy bu t be exterm inated, as the Lord com
m an d ed Moses” (v. 20). (d ) The whole land is seized: “So Joshua
took the whole land, according to all that the Lord had spoken to
M oses,... an d the land h ad rest” (v. 23).
Two things are striking about these statements. First, they are
n o t the direct speech o f Yahweh, in contrast to verse 6, b u t are at
tributed to Moses in a form er generation. Yahweh speaks direcdy
ab o u t horses a n d chariots b u t only indirecdy through Moses about
catde and spoil. T he com m and (and therefore the revelation) is
rem em b ered revelation:
As Moses had com m anded. . . (v. 12)
So Moses commanded Jo s h u a ... (v. 15)
Yahweh commanded Moses, (v. 20)
The Lord had spoken to Moses, (v. 23)
Because the revelation is an unspecified reference to older torah, the

com m unity o f necessity m ust interpret. Which old er torah teaching
is invoked is n o t self-evident, n o r exacdy how it applies to this situa
tion. This m eans th at with regard to catde and spoil, there is room
for speculation, maneuverability, and alternative decisions.
Second, these m andates, which are attributed to Yahweh through
the m em ory o f Moses, are exceedingly harsh, no t as disciplined,
specific, an d restrained as the com m and of verse 6:
to utterly d estro y ... (v. 12)
not to leave any that breathed. . . (v. 14)
utterly destroyed, no mercy, exterm inated. . . (v. 20)
take the whole lan d . . . (v. 23)
In each case an old textual w arrant (presumably Deut. 20:15-18) is

claim ed as authorization for the present destruction. T hat old tex-
tual w arrant is rem em bered and presented as uncom prom isingly

harsh.
2. But in Joshua 11, as Polzin has observed, the com m and regard
ing o th er spoil is also more lenient than the m andate regarding horses 4'
an d chariots. T he com m and o f verse 6 is harsh. But as the narrative
develops and horses an d chariots are to be destroyed, cattle may be
taken an d saved as booty (Josh. 11:14). It is curious that in the very
text th at urges that “nothing be left breathing,” cattle are exem pted.
T he enactm ent o f G od’s m andate is contextualized by Israel.
T he harsh rem em bered dem and of Moses and the perm it of
Moses to take spoil (cf. Deut. 20:14) both d ep art from verse 6, the
form er in a m ore dem anding direction, the latter in a m ore lenient
direction.
Both the harshness and the leniency are based on the old torah
m em ory o f Deuteronomy, in 20:10-14 and 20:15-18 respectively.
Based on the old torah memory, in the nam e o f Moses o u r n arra
tive practices both exterm ination and spoil, both radical rejection of
booty and econom ic prudence, both obedient destruction an d self-
serving confiscation. Both are w arranted by the torah teaching of
D euteronom y 20, a polarity Polzin has n o t allowed.
I take verse 6, Yahweh’s only direct speech in Jo sh u a 11, as the nor
mative revelation within the text. It m andates destruction o f a quite
specific kind in order to give liberated Israel room to exist. It sanc
tions n eith er m ore n o r less than this. In two ways the narrative around
verse 6 departs from this norm ative m andate. O n the one hand, in
verses 7-8 Israel did much more than is authorized: “Israel fe ll,...
sm o te,. .. p u rsu e d ,. .. sm o te,. .. until they left none rem aining.” They
killed people and destroyed cities, surely no t decreed by Yahweh in
verse 6. O n the other hand, one may say they did less, for they took
cattle as booty, also n o t authorized by verse 6. O ne m ight construe
verse 6 as a directive to immobilize anything held by the hostile
city-states, b u t that is n o t subsequently understood to include cattle.
T he narrative of Jo sh u a 11 thus may be sorted out at th ree levels:
1. Theologically, there is a distinction between what is to be ex
term inated and what is to be kept as spoil, even though the decree of
verse 6 authorizes n eith er spoil n o r exterm ination. Both exterm ina
tion and spoil are w arranted in the torah tradition o f D euteronom y
20, spoil in verses 10-14 and exterm ination in verses 15-17.44
44. On the criticism of this text, see Alexander Rofe, “The Laws o f Warfare in
the Book of Deuteronomy,” JSOT 32 (1985): 28-39.
2. Sociologically, there is a distinction between horses (and i liai

iots) and cattle (and o th er spoil). Horses and cattle sym boli/r very
different things a n d perform very different social functions. Horses
function to dom inate because they are a m eans of military power.
Cattle function to sustain by providing m eat and milk. Horses can
never provide sustenance. Cattle can never aid in oppression.
S. M ethodologically, there is a distinction between sociological
a n d literary analysis. O n the one hand, I have used only sociological
m ethods to ask w hat horse and chariot symbolize and w hat social
functions they perform an d why Yahweh wills their immobilization.
To ask a question o f the social symbolization and function o f horse
an d chariot leads to som ething like a “class reading” o f the matter,
for clearly horse and chariot are tools o f dom ination.
O n the o th er h an d (following Polzin), reference to catde and
spoil has evoked subde literary questions because we are able to see
how the tradition struggles with the tension o f spoil an d exterm i
nation, how cattle require a m ore subtle sorting ou t than does the
socially unam biguous reality o f horses. We are able to see that the
revelatory operation within the narrative is indeed subtle an d re
quires careful differentiations. Thus horses as tool and symbol of
d om ination p erm it a clear, unam biguous an n o uncem ent o f G od’s
will. Cattle, which may be a m eans o f seduction (Deut. 20:15-18) or
a m eans o f sustenance (Deut. 20:14-15), require a m ore delicate ar
ticulation o f G od’s will. It will no t do simply to ask about “all that
violence” because the situation o f the text is m uch m ore com pli
cated than that. T he w arrant for violence is grounded in verse 6.
O n e may im agine th at Israel took that limited, disciplined w arrant
o f Yahweh an d w ent well beyond its in ten t or substance in its action,
o u t o f rage an d oppression.45 T he action against the horses is based
o n a revelatory p erm it for liberation. The sanction for keeping cattle
looks to the future ju st com m unity that will replace the oppressive
city-states.
W hat we have, then, is revelation in context. T he popular way o f
p u ttin g the question is, Would the God o f the Bible m andate such
violence? But the question m ust be posed in context. O f the rem em
b ered revelation ro o ted in the m em ory of Moses, the answer is yes,
in the in terest o f Israel’s survival as a holy people (Deut. 7:6). O f
45. On the sociology and power of rage in situations of oppression, see Frank A.
Spina, “The Concept of Social Rage in the Old Testament and the Ancient Near
East” (Ph.D. diss., University of Michigan, 1977).
the im m ediate revelation, the answer is yes, as a m eans o f elimi

nating im plem ents of dom ination. But I do n o t want to evade our
governing question. Does God m andate violence? Properly contex-
tualized, this narrative answers yes, but o f a specific kind, tightly
circum scribed, in the interest o f a serious social experim ent, in the
interest o f ending dom ination. T he revelation is n o t really act, bu t
w arrant o r perm it. T he narrative requires us to conclude th at this
com m unity was utterly persuaded that the God of the tradition is
passionately against dom ination an d is passionately for an egalitarian
community.
It is futile to try to talk such a com m unity o f the oppressed out
o f such a theological conviction. Its certitude does n o t arise out of
religious rum ination b u t out o f the visceral sense o f pain and oppres
sion that is the stuff o f history. This com m unity o f Israel, however we
articulate its sociology o f marginality, knows deep in its bones that
God did n o t intend long-term subservience. Perhaps th at conviction
cam e by the bearers o f the news o f the exodus,46 b u t I suggest it
cam e in their particular context o f oppression. T he conviction of
G od’s disclosure is linked to th at context. Its actual im plem entation
o f exterm ination, ham stringing, and taking spoil is also given in the
m atrix o f social practice, n o t apart from it. Questions about violence
authorized by God m ust be kept very close to the visceral h u rt and
ho p e o f such com m unities o f marginality. It is rem arkable th at the
ju d g m e n t and certitude o f such a com m unity have been received by
us as canonical, bu t they have indeed been so received.
T h e m atter of revelation inside the narrative finally requires
com m ent on verse 20:
It was the Lord’s doing to harden their hearts that they should
com e against Israel in battle, in order that they should be utterly
destroyed, and should receive no mercy but be exterminated, as the
Lord commanded Moses.
T he second half of the verse is controlled by two uses o f lema 'an:
in order that they should come against Israel. . .

in order that they should be utterly destroyed. . .
46. Gottwald ( Tribes of Yahweh, 490-96) identifies the Levites as the revolutionary
cadre who carry this news of the liberation of Yahweh. Mendenhall, in more “real
istic” fashion, urged that the news of exodus was carried specifically by Joshua and
Caleb.
But the intriguing statem ent is, “It was the L o rd ’s doing to
h ard en th eir hearts.”47 W hat I find interesting about this statem ent
is th e question o f knowledge: How did Israel know this? How did
Israel decide Yahweh did it? T he statem ent does not claim Yahweh
was in th e b attle b u t only th a t Yahweh worked to convene the battle
so th at th ere would be a victory. This is a marvelously elusive theo
logical form ula to ju xtapose to the concreteness o f verse 6. God is
n o t im m ediately involved in any direct way, b u t Israel knows that
governance is finally in Yahweh’s hands as was the case in the rem em
b ered exodus (Exod. 4:21; 7:3; 9:12; 10:1). T he conclusion drawn in
verse 20 asserts the majestic, irresistible sovereignty o f Yahweh. But
th at grand claim of sovereignty finally rests on the concreteness of
verse 6. W ithout the concreteness o f verse 6, the claim o f verse 20 is
w ithout substance.
VI
Now we may tu rn to the second question of revelation, the disclo
sure given by th e narrative as narrative, no t to its own participants
b u t to us who now stand outside the narrative, take it as canoni
cal, an d h eed it as revelatory. A good test is to ask, W hat would we
know of the ways and character o f God if we had only this particular
ren dering, o r what would be lost if we did no t have this text?
I have proposed th at Yahweh’s com m and in verse 6 is theolog
ically norm ative. It is n o t as harsh as general exterm ination. It is
n o t as len ien t as taking spoil. This theologically norm ative disclosure
concerns Yahweh’s hostility to horses and chariots as m onarchal in
strum ents o f dom ination.48 These instrum ents o f dom ination (1) re
quire advanced technology, (2) require surplus wealth to finance
an d m aintain, an d (3) serve a political, econom ic m onopoly depen
d e n t on oppression a n d subservience. We have am ple evidence to
suggest the social function o f horses and chariots for kings. In the
inventory o f Solom on’s affluence and security, he is said to have
47. On the problematic o f this theological theme, see Gerhard von Rad, Old
Testament Theology (New York: H arper and Row, 1965), 2:151-55, and Brevard S.
Childs, The Book of Exodus (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1974), 170-75.
48. Boling and Wright (Joshua, 307) conclude: “Such military efficiency reflects
a feudal system in which the charioteers, or maryanu, belong to a class enjoying
special privileges and perform ing special services for the king.” Gottwald (Tribes
of Yahweh, 543) writes: “Hamstringing horses and burning chariots were defensive
measures against the hated and feared superior weaponry o f the enemy.”
forty thousands stalls of horses for his chariots and twelve thou
sand horsem en (1 Kings 4:26). In 10:26, it is reported, “Solom on
gathered together chariots and horsem en; he had fourteen h u n d re d
chariots and twelve thousand horsem en,” partly for trade, b u t mostly
for defense and intim idation.49 T he Bible characteristically associates
horses and chariots with royal power, which is regularly seen to be
oppressive (cf. Exod. 14:9, 23; Deut. 20:1; 2 Sam. 15:1; 1 Kings 18:5;
22:4; 2 Kings 3:7; 18:23; 23:11).
Yahweh’s hostility to horses and chariots bespeaks Yahweh’s hos
tility to the social system that requires, legitimates, an d depends
u p o n them . Israel, in its early period of tribal-peasant life, did n o t
have horses and chariots and greatly feared them . T he struggle
reflected in Joshua 11 is how this community, so vulnerable and help
less, can exist and function against the kings and their powerful tools
o f dom ination.
In light o f the inventory of the royal use o f horses an d chari
ots, we now consider an alternative set of texts—expressed in a very
different m ode—th at present a critical view o f horses an d chariots.
These narrative accounts are in a sense expository com m ents on the
sanction o f Josh. 11:6.
T he Bible is not content simply to describe the royal status quo
that seems beyond challenge. T he Bible also offers takes o f libera
tion th at show Israel challenging, countering, and overcom ing this
form idable royal power. T he narrative form lends itself to the artic
ulation o f an o th er kind o f power the royal world n eith er knows nor
credits.50 T he narrative m ode challenges royal rationality even as the
narrative substance challenges royal policy.
1. In 1 Kings 20, Israel is ranged against Syria in an uneven con
test. T he Syrians, a prototype o f military power, are sure o f their
strength:
And the servants of the king of Syria said to him, “Their gods are
gods of the hills, and so they were stronger than we; but let us
49. Cleady Solomon’s monarchy embodies much that repelled the Israel of Moses
and Joshua. See George Mendenhall, “The Monarchy,” Int 29 (1975): 155-70.
50. The different sociology o f these texts needs to be correlated with the differ
ent mode of literary expression in which it is reported. Thus the positive assertion
of royal power is characteristically reported in lists, inventories, and memos. By con
trast, the alternative power of Yahweh does not come articulated in such controlled
modes of expression, but in narratives of a playful kind that allow for surprise
and inscrutability. The modes of power are matched to ways of speech and to the
different epistemologies and rationalities practiced by the speech forms.
Revelation an d Violence: A Study in Contextualization
fight against them in the plain, and surely we shall be stronger lli.m
they.. . . [MJuster an army like the army that you have lost, horse lor
horse, and chariot for chariot; then we will fight against them in the
plain, and surely we shall be stronger than they.” (20:23-25)
T he Israelites, in their own narrative presentation, are helpless by

contrast:
The people of Israel encamped before them like two little flocks of
goats, but the Syrians filled the country, (v. 27)
T he narrative m akes the disproportion o f royal power clear. T hat in

tu rn makes the victory o f Yahweh all the m ore dramatic:
Because the Syrians have said, “The Lord is a god of the hills but he is
not a god of the valleys,” therefore I will give all this great multitude
into your hand, and you shall know that I am the Lord. (v. 28)
T he episode concludes with a great victory. Israel’s God and Israel’s

narrators are u n d au n ted by the odds of royal horses and chariots.
They are u n d au n ted because there is an o th er power that over
whelms an d overrides the royal establishm ent and gives victory to
these seemingly helpless peasants. Notice that at the crucial p oint o f
th e narrative w here we would want specificity, we are told nothing.51
At the p o in t w here we would like to know how Yahweh defeated the
Syrian horses an d chariots, the narrative is opaque. We are n o t told.
It is en ough to receive the surprising news that is against the data. It
is en ough to know th at Yahweh trium phs over the Syrian gods, and
therefore Israel trium phs over Syria, and therefore faith trium phs
over horses an d chariots.
2. A second narrative that offers a critique o f horses and chari
ots again concerns Syria, Israel, and Elisha (2 Kings 6:15-19). Syria
discerns th at Elisha is the m ain threat and sends “horses an d char
iots an d a great arm y” to seize him (2 Kings 6:14). Israel’s p ro p h et
is in great dan g er an d seemingly defenseless. But the narrative fo
cuses on the faith o f Elisha and the power of Yahweh. First, Elisha
issues a form al assurance: “Fear not, for those who are with us are
51. The formula “I will give” is characteristically the way of victory, as we have
seen it also in Josh. 11:6. On the formula, see the comment of Gerhard von Rad,
Der Heilige Krieg im alten Israel (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1958), 7.
The phrase promises everything but tells nothing.
m ore than those who are with them ” (v. 16).52 Second, Elisha prays
th at frightened Israel, em bodied in his servant, may see (v. 17). And
third, in answer to the prayer, Yahweh causes the young m an to see,
“A nd behold, the m ountain was full o f horses and chariots o f fire
ro u n d about Elisha” (v. 17). Again the narrative is elliptical ju st at
the place where we would like to know m ore. It is enough fo r our
purposes, however, to see that through the prophetic person, the
power o f prayer, and the courage o f faith, Yahweh’s powerful sover
eignty is present in horses and chariots that effectively co u n ter the
Syrians (v. 17).
3. In a different episode of this same extended narrative, the
m otif o f Yahweh’s defeat o f horses and chariots recurs (2 Kings 7:3-
8). F our lepers enter the camp o f the Syrians, b u t the Syrians had
all fled. Persons as socially irrelevant as lepers can safely e n te r the
Syrian stronghold.
T he narrative explanation for the flight o f the Syrians is this:
For the Lord had made the army o f the Syrians hear the sound of
chariots, and of horses, the sound of a great army, so that they said
to one another, “Behold, the king o f Israel has hired against us the
kings of the Hittites and the kings of Egypt to come upon us.” So
they fled away in the twilight and forsook their tents, their horses,
and their asses, leaving the camp as it was, and fled for their lives.
(2 Kings 7:6-7)
T he narrative continues, saying th at the lepers seized spoil o f silver,

gold, and clothing (v. 8) .5S Again a victory is inscrutably won by Yah
weh against the great odds o f the military power o f a foreign state.
T he m ode o f the victory is comic, whimsical, o r hidden. But it is de
cisive. T he Israelites had n o t hired allies as Syria suspected (v. 6).
Israel did n o t need allies o ther than Yahweh. T he n arrato r u n d er
stands this perfectly, but the m arching Syrians have no access to the
reality evoked by this narrative. T he narrative thus delegitim ates the
rationality o f Syrian royal power.
T h e outcom e of all three narratives in 1 Kings 20, 2 Kings 6,
an d 2 Kings 7 is that Yahweh is shown to be stronger than the mili
tary state and is its sworn enemy on behalf o f Yahweh’s own people.
52. The formula is the same as in Josh. 11:6.

53. The seizure of spoil from the strong ones now defeated by Yahweh is parallel
to Joshua 11.
G eneration after generation, the strange turn of the exodus is reen

acted with new characters, bu t each time on behalf o f helpless Israel.
T he narratives do n o t tell us all we would like to know about the
course o f the battles. But they tell us all Israel needs to know about
Yahweh, which is th at Yahweh is faithful, sovereign, and will not be
m ocked. T he m ode o f the power o f Yahweh is prophetic speech. The
p ro p h ets mobilize th at power against the state. T he states may have
asked cynically, “How many legions does Elisha have?” But against
such cynicism toward Yahweh, the narrative answers, “E nough.” It
is n o t royal horses a n d chariots b u t the power o f Yahweh that ulti
m ately shapes th e outcom e o f the historical process. Clearly we are
dealing h ere with a very different rationality, a rationality th at re
fuses to accom m odate royal reason. The narratives have no great
attraction to violence, b u t they also are no t em barrassed by what is
necessary for survival and well-being.
4. In one o th er narrative we note the cynicism o f the Assyrians
who m ock Israelite weakness by an offer o f two thousand horses if
Israel has riders to m ount, which obviously Israel does n o t (2 Kings
18:24). T h e im perial speaker taunts Israel for dep en d in g on Egyp
tian horses and chariots. But the taunt is defeated, for Yahweh takes
th e challenge an d overcom es the Assyrian threat.
In all these liberation narratives, royal m onopoly o f power is
countered. It is co u n tered by the prophetic oracle th at discloses u n
seen an d unrecognized horses and chariots (2 Kings 6:16-17). It is
cou n tered in 2 Kings 7:6 by the sound o f horses and chariots, created
by Yahweh. It is co untered in 1 Kings 20:28 when Yahweh hands over
th e Syrians. It is countered by the powerful angel o f Yahweh (2 Kings
19:35). In all these texts, the narrative reveals Yahweh’s power that
inscrutably an d effectively counters hostile, oppressive royal power.
T he narrative shows Syrian horses and chariots no t to be as powerful
as was assumed. Israel and the Syrians are perm itted to see what they
h ad n o t seen. A nd fo r us, the narrative asserts the reality o f Yahweh
in m odes for which we are n o t prepared.
In o ur consideration of revelation and violence, we have ju x ta
posed two contrasting kinds of material. O n the one hand, we have
m en tio n ed ra th e r flat, descriptive accounts o f royal power (Exod.
14:9, 23; Deut. 20:1; 2 Sam. 15:1; 1 Kings 18:5; 22:4; 2 Kings 3:7;
18:23; 23:11). These texts read like official m em os an d sound in
th eir re n d erin g like the cool, detached reasoning o f technique, as
perhaps in the congressional testimony of a secretary o f defense
in which everything is obvious, acceptable, reasonable, taken for
gran ted and no t to be questioned. Such a m ode o f evidence is

hardly revelatory, for it discloses nothing. It only states once again
the already known.
By contrast the narratives we have considered disclose what was
n o t known. The narrative o f 1 Kings 20:26-30 shows Israel, which
seem ed to be “like two little flocks of goats,” to be pow ered by Yah
w eh’s response to the m ocking and therefore available for a victory.
In 2 Kings 6:16-17, reality is evoked by a prophetic oracle o f “fear
n o t,” which ends in an unexpected vision o f horses an d chariots o f
Yahweh, who seem ed to have none. In 2 Kings 7:6, it is the very
sound o f horses and chariots that frightened the Syrians. In 2 Kings
19:35, an angel o f Yahweh repels the im perial army. All four stories
offer a different m ode o f presentation, a different epistemology, and
a different universe o f discourse. This is narrative art that invites to
bold, imaginative faith a com m unity that is short on royal technique.
But this com m unity is n o t w ithout its own peculiar rationality that
believes that the world is ordered, governed, and powered by an au
thority to which kings do not have access and over which they cannot
prevail.
T he narratives reveal that faithful im agination is m ore power
ful th an dom inating technique. T he narratives offer a convergence
of: (a) narrative primitivism, which is obligated to explain nothing;
(b) sociological marginality, which cannot rely on hum an resources;
(c) epistemological naivete, which refuses royal m odes o f certitude;
and (d ) theological am azem ent, which is innocent and desperate
enough to believe, and is n o t disappointed.
These factors together in the four narratives o f 1 Kings 20:26-30;
2 Kings 6:16-17; 2 Kings 7:6; and 2 Kings 18:19— 19:37 are indeed
revelatory. They disclose what had n o t been seen. They m ake known
what had n o t been known. And when this alternative is known and
seen, the sure, m anaged world o f royal technique and certitude is
stunningly dism antled. T he rulers o f this age are marvelously pu t to
flight. Israel’s life is ren d ered in these narratives in an alternative
rationality that has power, substance, and reality, all rooted in and
derived from this subversive disclosure o f Yahweh.
Yahweh’s inscrutable com petence against royal horses an d chari
ots is echoed in the odd prayer and teaching o f Jesus:
“I thank thee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid
den these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them
to babes; yea, Father, for such was thy gracious will___”
Then turning to the disciples he said privately, “BUssed a ir the

eyes which see what you see! For I tell you that many prophets and
kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear
what you hear, and did not hear it.” (Luke 10:21-24)54
W hat is h id d en from the kings is disclosed to the prophets in Israel.

They see an d know a n o th er kind o f power.
We have, first, observed texts that, in a descriptive way, docum ent
the inventory of royal chariots. These texts we take eith er as actual,
factual reports o r as polem ics against royal power. Second, we have
observed texts th at tell tales o f alternative forms o f power that tri
u m p h over royal instrum ents of dom ination. The contrast between
the descriptions o f royal dom ination and narratives o f alternative
form s o f pow er reflects Israel’s alternative reading o f the historical
process. T h e m ode o f expression that contrasts flat description and
imaginative narrative corresponds to the m odes o f power th at may
be discerned in the historical process. In ancient Israel, the imag
inative narrative is characteristically stronger than the descriptive
m em o. T he narrative m ore nearly articulates the decisive direction
of the historical process. T hat is, the m ode of discourse correlates
with ways o f reality an d m odes o f power. How Israel speaks is related
to w hat Israel trusts in and hopes for.55
T h at contrast between descriptive inventory and imaginative nar
rative leads to a w arning that Israel should n o t im itate o r be seduced
by such royal m odes o f power (cf. Deut. l7:14-20)56 o r royal m odes
o f com m unication.57 If Israel imitates the nations o r is seduced by
th eir power o r th eir gods, Israel will also becom e an agent o f dom
ination.58 Israel knows it is no t to em ulate royal m odes of power,
54. On the peculiar character of this saying, see M. Jack Suggs, Wisdom, Christology
and Law in St. Matthew’s Gospel (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Univ. Press, 1970).
55. Gail O ’Day (“Irony and the Johannine Theology of Revelation” [Ph.D. diss.,
Emory University, 1983]) has shown that the Wie (how) of presentation is as
im portant as Dass (that) and Was (what) for understanding this literature as
revelatory.
56. The basis of herem is not that Israel should not possess, but that Israel should
not be seduced. I am not sure if Polzin has recognized this difference.
57. O n the seduction o f royal modes of communication, the substantive issues are
the loss of narrative, embarrassment over storytelling, and the recasting of reality
into technical modes of communication. On this general seduction and its social
outcome, see Hans Frei, The Eclipse of Biblical Narrative (New Haven: Yale Univ.
Press, 1974).
58. The seductive economics of Solomon goes along with the changed modes of
communication. It is telling that we have no narratives of Solomon in the sense that
we have them about David. O ne may say that Solomon got horses and chariots and
knowledge, o r language. Israel also knows that alternative m odes of

power, knowledge, and language are available th at perm it freedom
an d justice.
VII
O u r study has considered in turn, (1) descriptive inventories o f royal
dom ination through horses and chariots; (2) imaginative narratives
o f alternative power concerning Yahweh’s power against horses and
chariots; and (3) prohibition against im itation and seduction by such
horses and chariots.
Israel developed an im portant and sustained theological tradition
th at affirm ed that the power o f Yahweh is stronger than the royal
power o f horses and chariots. In all parts o f the biblical tradition, it
is affirm ed that the power of Yahweh will defeat oppressive kings who
have horses and chariots. T he “power o f Yahweh” is n o t exposited in
detail. Obviously the power o f Yahweh belongs to a very different,
nonroyal rationality, b u t the tradition does n o t doubt that the power
is effective in actual, concrete historical interactions.59
T he m otif o f Yahweh’s trium ph over horses and chariots may
be found in three kinds o f texts that range over the entire Old
Testam ent literature.
1. Prophetic texts assert the liberating power o f God over against
royal dom ination:
(a) I will have pity o n th e h o u se o f J u d a h , a n d I will d eliv er th e m by th e

L o rd th e ir G od; I will n o t d eliv er th e m by bow, n o r by sw ord, n o r by
war, n o r by horses, n o r by h o rse m e n . (H os. I :? ) 60
(b) W oe to th o se w ho g o dow n to E gypt fo r h elp ,

w ho rely o n horses,
w ho tru st in ch ario ts b e cau se th ey a re m any
a n d in h o rse m e n becau se they a re very stro n g ,
lost narrative. I suggest we will not understand what is at issue in our present society
of militarism until we see the connection between modes o f power and modes of
speech.
59. On the power of Yahweh articulated as “the hand o f Yahweh,” see Patrick D.
Miller Jr. a n d j. J. M. Roberts, The Hand of the Lord (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Univ.
Press, 1977).
60. O n this verse, see Hans Walter Wolff, Hosea, Hermeneia (Philadelphia:
Fortress, 1974), 20-21,
but do not look to the Holy One of Israel

or consult the Lord!
(Isa. 31:1; cf. v. 3 and 30:15-16)61
(c) And in that day, says the Lord,

I will cut off your horses from among you
and will destroy your chariots.
(Mic. 5 :1 0 )62
T he text o f Micah goes on to speak o f destroying cities, sorceries,

and images and th en states:
And in anger and wrath I will execute vengeance

upon the nations that did not obey.
(Mic. 5:15)
(d) Thus says the Lord,

who makes a way in the sea,
a path in the mighty waters,
who brings forth chariot and horse,
army and warrior;
they lie down, they cannot rise,
they are extinguished, quenched like a wick.
(Isa. 43:16-17)
This reference alludes to the exodus and is followed by the rem ark
able assertion, “Behold, I am doing a new thing”— that is, Yahweh
is crushing th e horses and chariots of Babylon and so perm itting
exiled Israel to go hom e.
( e) This is the word o f the Lord to Zerubbabel: Not by might, nor by

power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts. (Zech. 4:6)
To be sure, in this well-known text, horses and chariots are no t

m entioned, b u t I consider this statem ent to be an extension o f the
61. O n the issue of faith in Isaiah, see von Rad, Old Testament Theology, 2:158-69.
An investigation of the term batah (trust) in the tradition of Isaiah would be worth
pursuing.
62. One can understand the polemic of the Micah tradition if one accepts the
sociological analysis of Wolff that Micah is the voice of the small rural landowner
always resistant to imperial impingement. See Hans Walter Wolff, “Micah the More-
shite—The Prophet and his Background,” in Israelite Wisdom, ed. John G. Gammie,
(Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1978), 77-84. Delbert Hillers (Micah, Hermeneia
[Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984], 72-74) interprets Micah’s oracle as a renunciation of
all that destroys Israel’s true identity.
same trajectory. Yahweh’s opposition to royal, military power is in

this text couched in apocalyptic language. But the claim o f Yah
w eh’s governance is the same. Prophetic faith sets the inscrutable
power of Yahweh over against the pretensions o f state power. T h is'
paradigm atic antithesis is acted ou t already in the exodus narrative.63
2. In the Psalms, the m otif o f horses and chariots is articulated:
(a) Some boast of chariots, some of horses,

but we boast in the name of the Lord our God.
(Ps. 20:7)
In this royal psalm, the contrast between conventional royal power

and the power o f Yahweh is total. T he verb “boast” h ere is a ren
dering o f zdkar64 and so should no t be overinterpreted. But the
conventional rendering “boast” suggests a proxim ity to Jer. 9:22-25
(which in turn is quoted in 1 Cor. 1 :3 1 ) .65
(b) A king is not saved by his great army;

a warrior is not delivered by his great strength.
The war horse is a vain hope for victory,
and by its great strength it cannot save. (Ps. 33:16-17)
(c) At thy rebuke, O God of Jacob,

both rider and horse lay stunned.
But thou, terrible art thou! (Ps. 76:6-7)
( d ) His delight is not in the strength of the horse,

nor is his pleasure in the legs of a man;
but the Lord takes pleasure66 in those who fear him,
in those who hope in his steadfast love. (Ps. 147:10-11)
3. T he question o f what constitutes power also appears in

Proverbs:
63. The contrast between the power of Yahweh and the pretensions of state power
is nicely drawn in 1 Sam. 17:45 and the encompassing narrative. See my discussion
in David’s Truth, in that I have drawn attention to the epistemology of the tribe that
is articulated to claim a zone of freedom against a hostile state.
64. The use of the term zdkar here is peculiar. Its conventional rendering as
“boast” is surely correct, but perhaps it also linked the present doxology to concrete
memories of the triumphs of Yahweh in the past, which were won against great
odds. It is the memory that permits the doxology.
65. The verb in Jer. 9:22-23 is hithallel. On the text from Jeremiah, see Walter
Brueggemann, “The Epistemological Crisis of Israel’s Two Histories (Jer. 9:22-23),”
in Israelite Wisdom, 85-105 (reprinted in Old Testament Theology: Essays in Structure,
Theme, and Text [Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992], 270-95).
66. The verb hapas used here is the same as in Jer. 9:23.
Revelation a n d Violence: A Study in Contextualization 315
No wisdom, no understanding, no counsel,

can avail against the Lord.
The horse is made ready for the day of battle,
but victory belongs to the Lord. (Prov. 21:30-31)
G erhard von Rad has identified this text along with five others
th at articulate the hidden, inscrutable ways o f Yahweh’s governance
th at challenge all hu m an self-security, w hether by way o f knowledge,
power, planning, o r ingenuity.67
In all these texts, prophetic assertions (Hos. 1:7; Isa. 31:1; 43:15-
17; Mic. 5:10; Zech. 4:6), psalmic doxologies (Pss. 20:7; 33:16-17;
76:6-7; 147:10-11), and sapiential discernm ent (Prov. 21:30-31), we
have elo q u en t an d unproblem atic theological statem ents. In the
texts, the difficult issue o f Yahweh’s involvement in violence is not
visible. Yet all these texts are rooted in and derived from the m uch
m ore primitive statem ent o f Josh. 11:6: “[H ]am string the horses, and
b u rn th e chariots.” T he other, m ore removed, statem ents depend
o n the concreteness o f such a warrant. Yahweh’s sovereignty over
horses an d chariots is m ade visible in that concrete action Yahweh
authorizes.
VIII
T h e theological outcom e o f Joshua 11 concerns the will an d ca
pacity of Yahweh to overturn the present historical arrangem ents
o f society th at are ju d g e d to be inequitable and against the pur
poses o f Yahweh. Yahweh is here revealed as the true governor of
the historical-political process, arm ed alternatives notwithstanding.
At the beginning o f the narrative, Israel is assaulted by superior force
(v. 1). But by w ord (v. 6) and by inscrutable, hidden intervention
(v. 20), Israel receives its inheritance and rest according to G od’s
prom ise (v. 23). Yahweh is disclosed as a God who keeps promises
within th e historical arena. T he narrative is a tale o f a transform a
tion from dom ination to inheritance wrought by Yahweh’s sovereign
will th ro u g h Israel’s bold obedience.
Two texts may be cited that marvelously articulate this strange
narrative faith th at creates social possibility against a new might.
First, at th e decisive pause in the land narrative, this en counter takes
67. Gerhard von Rad, Old Testament Theology (New York: H arper and Row, 1962),
1:438-41; idem, Wisdom in Israel (Nashville: Abingdon, 1972), 97-110.
place. T he tribes o f Ephraim and Manasseh articulate their weakness

in th e face o f Canaanite chariots:
The hill country is not enough for us; yet all the Canaanites who
dwell in the plain have chariots of iron, both those in Bethshean and
its villages and those in the Valley o f Jezreel. (Josh. 17:16)
Joshua, m an of faith, responds with an assurance:
Then Joshua said to the house of Joseph, to Ephraim and Manasseh,

‘You are a numerous people, and have great power; you shall not
have one lot only, but the hill country shall be yours, for though it
is a forest, you shall clear it and possess it to its farthest borders; you
shall drive out the Canaanites, though they have chariots o f iron, and
though they are strong.” (w. 17-18)
It is this sum m ons to faith that makes the difference. T he voice o f

hope is the great equalizer in the historical process.
Second, at the deathbed scene o f Elisha (who had considerable
experience against horses and chariots), K ingjoash grieves because
he knows that without this prophetic voice o f hope he is hopeless
an d helpless. T he king laments:
My father, my father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!

(2 Kings 13:14; cf. 2:12)
T he king acknowledges that the prophetic figure of Elisha is Israel’s

m ode o f power in the world, the only resource this com m unity has
in a world o f harsh power.
I conclude with four comments:
1. T he fundam ental claim o f Joshua 11 is that Yahweh is dis
closed as a God who will invert the historical process and give land
to the landless. T hat claim, so far as the tradition is concerned, is be
yond dispute. The com m and against horses and chariots looks back
to the defeat of pharaoh in Exod. 14:6-7, 23 (cf. Exod. 15:1, 21)
and o f Sisera (Judg. 4:3, 7, 13-16)®® and forward to the defeat of
Babylon (Isa. 43:16-21), all texts concerning horses and chariots and
68. Gottwald has established a model o f interpretation that takes Moses and
Joshua together. He has treated the Egyptian empire and the Canaanite city-state
as continuous and as metaphors of oppression. In Josh. 4:23, it is evident that the
cultic tradition labored to establish the same equation.
im perial power. T he troublesom e part is that Yahweh’s tra n slo m m ^

governance takes place in such concrete, hum an ways as ham string
ing a n d burning. Everything hinges on this w arrant for action; the
faithful act o f obedience, so featured in Joshua 11, is response to
the perm it o f Yahweh. In Biblical faith the great gift o f deliverance
com es in historical concreteness.
2. For th e people in the text, we ask, Is this really revelation? Does
God say such things as in Josh. 11:6? W hen the perm it o f Yahweh
is em b ed d ed in this com m unity o f marginality, when revelation is
taken as the com m unity’s sense of its future with God, this is indeed
a disclosure, for it m ust be so if this com m unity is to have a genuine
historical future. N one in the com m unity doubted eith er th at God
willed such a fu tu re o r th at the future came at great risk.
S. If revelation is to be always em bedded in context, then we m ust
see if this narrative o f Jo sh u a is disclosure from God for com m unities
o f m arginality in o u r own time that face the great odds o f horses and
chariots. T h e affirm ation o f T hird W orld com m unities o f faith is that
G od’s great prom ise o f land and justice is indeed linked to concrete
hu m an acts against horses and chariots. As in ancient peasant Israel,
n o n e can persuade such com m unities o f faith and hope that the God
o f justice an d freedom withholds such a permit.
4. In o u r own cultural context, however, we m ust read the nar
rative as disclosure “from the o ther side” within com m unities of
dom ination. We are m ore fully em bedded in com m unities o f horses
and chariots, m ore fully com m itted to dom ination. T he narrative
and its trajectory, as I have traced it, suggest that such com m uni
ties o f dom ination have no w arrant for arms and control and that
this God in inscrutable ways is aligned against the horses and char
iots, working th ro ugh hardness of heart, until the whole enterprise
collapses. T he powerful lineage o f pharaoh, Sisera, an d N ebuchad
nezzar never learns in time. But the text persists and is always offered
again. It is a disclosure o f hope to those em bedded in reliance on
horses and chariots, a w arning that all such arms cannot secure
against G od’s force for life. This partisan, contextualized disclosure
does n o t regard ham stringing and burning as unacceptable violence.
Rather, the disclosure is aim ed against dom ination by the Canaan-
ites. It is m ad d en ing that at the crucial places, the text m um bles
ab out how the power o f Yahweh could work against such hardware
and such technique. But the text, where it m umbles, m um bles be
cause the pow er o f the Spirit cannot be articulated in the rationality
o f th e kings. Indeed, perhaps what is finally disclosed is that the
power o f God, the rush o f the Spirit toward liberation, will never
be articulated in the rationality o f dom ination.
From th at awareness it is n o t a very large step to claim that
the foolishness of God is wiser than humanity, and the weakness of

God is stronger than humanity. (1 Cor. 1:25)
T h at insight is already celebrated in Joshua 11, where these land-

desperate people watched while the powerful city-kings were un d o n e
by the com m and, perm it, and w arrant o f Yahweh. T he rhetoric of
such a narrative is no t congenial to us in o u r royal rationality. It is
precisely em ancipation from that royal rationality, however, th at lets
an o th er m ode of speech re n d er an o th er m ode o f life, w rought by a
very different kind o f power.
Credits
Perm ission is gratefully acknowledged for republication o f the fol

lowing chapters o f this book:
C hapter 1: Journal of Biblical Literature 98 (1979).
C hapter 2: The Christian Century 97 (1980). Copyright © 1980 Chris
tian C entury Foundation.
C hapter 3: Covenanting for Peace and Justice. Geneva: W orld Alliance
o f R eform ed C hurches, 1989.
C hapter 4: Die Botschafi and die Boten: Festschrift fu r Hans Walter
Wolff zum 70 Geburtstag. Edited by Jorg Jerem ias and L othar Perlitt.
Neukirchen-Vluyn: N eukirchener Verlag, 1981.
C h ap ter 5: The Catholic Biblical (Quarterly 43 (1981).
C hapter 6: Journal of Biblical Literature 110 (1991).
C hapter 7: Schopfung und Befmung: Fur Claus Westermann zum 80 Ge
burtstag. Edited by R ainer Albertz, Friedem ann W. Golka, an d Jiirgen
Kegler. Stuttgart: Calwer Verlag, 1989.
C hapter 8: Journal of the American Academy of Religion 45B (1977
S u p p lem en t).
C hapter 9: Journal Jor the Study of the Old Testament 33 (1985).
320 Credits
C hapter 10: Preaching as a Social Act. Edited by Art Van Seters.

Nashville: Abingdon Press. Copyright © 1988 by A rt Van Seters.
C hapter 11: The Pastor as Prophet. Edited by Earl E. Shelp and
Ronald H. Sunderland. New York: The Pilgrim Press, 1985. 4?-’ 7
C hapter 12: The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East. Edited by
Jo h n G. Gammie and Leo G. Perdue. W inona Lake, Ind.: Eisen-
brauns, 1990.
C hapter 13: Theology Today 48 (1991): 128-38.
C hapter 14: International Review of Missions 64 (1975).
C hapter 15: Revelation and Violence: A Study in Contextualization (Pere
M arquette Lecture, 1986). Milwaukee: M arquette University Press,
1986.
Index of Scripture References
OLD TESTAMENT 3:7-9 83

3:8 85 n. 43
GENESIS 4:21 305
1 170, 219 n. 45 5-11 59
1:1—2:4a 219-20, 273 5:1 296
1:27-28 171 7:3 305
3 67, 257 n. 31, 265 n. 4 7:16 296
4:10 83, 241 8:1 296
6:1-4 29 n. 49 8:20 296
9:6 241 9:1 296
9:8-17 69 9:12 305
14 24 9:13 296
17 273 10:1 305
18:1-15 238 n. 12 10:3 296
18:20 83 10:29 87
23 279 n. 1 11:7 59
24:21 184 11:8 87
24:40 184 12:38 44
32:15 300 14:6-7 316
38:7 76, 76 n. 20 14:9 306, 309
38:10 76, 76 n. 20 14:10-15 83
39:3 184 14:10-13 85
39:23 184 14:14 59
42:20 280 14:23 306, 309, 316
47:13-26 59 14:25 59
14:27 282
EXODUS 15:1-18 55, 56, 59
1-15 59 15:1-3 169
1 59 15:1 55, 316
2:23-25 85, 181 n. 24 15:4 55
2:23-24 58 15:11-12 55
2:23 83 15:11 54
2:24-25 44 15:17 55
3-4 59 15:21 316
3:1-14 59 15:25 83
321
32 2 Index of Scripture References
EXODUS /continued) 20:1 306, 309

16 273 20:2-4 294
16:3 86 20:10-14 302
17:4-6 86 20:14-15 303
19:4 170 20:14 302
22:22 83 20:15-18 301-3
26 274 20:17 291
32 78 n. 26, 269 22:24 83
32:5 81 22:27 83
32:10 77, 81 n. 35 23:15-16 61
32:11 77 23:19-20 64
32:13 81 n. 35 24:7 281
32:19 81 n. 35 24:10-13 61
32:22 77 24:14-15 61
34:6-7 120 25:1-3 61
LEVITICUS 26:7 83
10:19 76 28:4 300 n. 42
25:42 28:26 96 n. 14
88 n. 49
26:5 101 28:29 184
26:6 96 28:30 96 n. 13
30:1-10 31
NUMBF.RS 30:11-14 63, 82
11:1 77 32 16 n. 10, 74 n. 10
11:4 44 32:11-12 179
11:10 77 32:18 179
11:11-12 169-70 32:30 78
11:33 77 32:39 74 n. 10
12:9 77
12:13-14 86 JOSHUA
14:2-4 86 1-12 290
14:41 184 1 291
20:16 83 1:8 184
23:27 76 1:14 300 n. 42
24:1 76 2 290
25:3 77 3 290
32:5 76 n. 19 4 290
32:10 77 4:23 316 n. 68
32:12 76 n. 19 5 290
32:13 76, 77 6 290
7 290
DEUTERONOMY 8:1-29 290
4:5-8 82, 157 8:30-35 290
4:29-31 31 9 290
7:1 291 10 290
7:6-11 157 11 289, 291-312, 315-18
7:6 303 11:1-15 291-302
11:15 300 n. 42 11:6 305-6, 307 n.51,
12-25 60 308 n. 52, 317
16:1-18 63 11:16-23 291-92, 301-2
17:8-13 61 11:20 304-5
17:14-20 61, 311 12 291
18:9-22 61 13-22 290
19:1-10 61 24:7 83
Index of Scripture References 121
jrrn r.F S 8:20 22. m

2:11-13 75 9:16 *5
2:11 75 10:6 Ή)
2:14 77 10:10 <H>
2:16-17 83 11:6 W
2:16 84 12 26
2:17 75 n. 16 12:9 78
2:20 77 12:17 76
3:2 75 15:19 76
3:6-7 75 16:13 90
3:7 75, 78 n. 27 17:45 314 n. 63
3:8 77 18:10 90
3:9 83, 84 2 SAMUEL
3:10 90 28, 135
7
3:12 75, 77, 78 31
7:11-16
3:15 83, 84 11:27 76
4:1-2 78 12:7 124
4:1 75 12:9 76
4:2 77 13:19 83
4:3 83, 316 15:1 306
4:7 78 n. 27, 316 16:14 145
4:13-16 316 20:1 26
6:1 75, 77, 78 24 279 n. 1
6:6-7 83 24:1 77
6:7-10 79
6:8b-10 74 1 KINGS
6:10 75 2:5-9 81
6:34 90 2:5-6 81
8:33-35 75 n. 16 2:7 81
9:23 90 2:8-9 81
10:6-7 75 2:26-27 24
10:6 75 3-11 245, 248, 257
10:7 77 3:3-14 245
10:10-15 84 3:3 109
10:10-14 79, 83 3:14 109
10:10-12 84 3:16-28 245
10:10 83 4 68, 101
10:llb-14 74 4:7-19 102 n. 20
10:12 83 4:20—5:8 99, 102-6, 109, 260
10:14 83 4:20-28 68, 98, 99, 102-6,
10:15 83 109, 260
11:29 90 4:20-22 99
12:12 85 4:20 100
13:25 90 4:21 99, 101
14:6 90 4:22-25 99
15:14 90 4:24 68, 101
4:25 68, 92, 101, 103-4
1 SAMUEL 4:26-28 99, 101
7-15 293 4:26 101, 306
7:4-7 275 4:29-34 245, 260
8 26 4:30-31 254
8:5-20 254 4:33 255
8:5 22, 157 5:1 99, 101
8:18 84 5:2-8 99
3 24 Index of Scripture References
1 KINGS (continued) 6:14 307

5:4 101 6:15-19 307-8
5:5 92, 101 6:16-17 309-10
5:6 101 6:27-28 85
5:7-8 101 7:3-8 308
5:9-14 245, 260 7:6 309-10
5:10-11 254 13:14 316
5:13 100, 255 17:7-41 30
8:1-13 220 n. 47 17:8 157
8:27 26 18:19— 19:37 310
8:46-53 31, 113, 120-21 18:23 306, 309
8:49-50 120 18:24 309
8:50 125 18:31 106 n. 23
9:6 109 19:35 309-10
9:22 100 22-23 82
10:1-13 245, 254 n. 22, 260 22 265
10:26 306 23:11 306, 309
11-12 68, 101, 257, 260 24:1-7 28
11:1 109 25:27-30 30
11:5 109
11:10 109 2 CHRONICLES
26 14:6 184
12
12:16 26, 104 26:5 184
30 n. 52 30:6-9 113 n. 4
13
30:9 120
16 279 n. 1
226 31:21 184
17-21
231 32:20-22 85
17:1
32:30 184
17:3-6 242-43
36:15-21 113, 113 n. 5, 121-23
17:8-24 219-20, 228-34
36:17 125
17:9-16 228
36:22-23 122
17:17-24 228
18-19 234-38 NF.HEMTAH
18:5 306, 309 5 65
18:21 157, 235 5:1-13 64
18:29 238 5:1-5 64
18:36-37 236 5:1 83
19:2 238 5:2-5 280-81
19:4-18 242 5:3 64
20 306-8 5:4 64
20:26-30 310 5:6-8 64
20:28 309 5:7 281
21 27, 37, 239-42, 278 5:8 281
21:1-16 239 5:9-13 64
21:17-29 240 5:9 281
21:17-19 27 5:10-11 64
22 226 5:11 281
22:4 306, 309 5:12-13 64
5:13 282
2 KINGS 9:27-28 85
1-10 226 9:27 85
2:12 316
3:7 306, 309 F.STHF.R
3:17 300 n. 42 4:11 83
Index o f Scripture References 325
JOB 22:22 85 n. 42
1:10 187 33:16-17 314-15
5:6-16 75 n. 12 34:7 84
5:25 189 34:18 83, 85
8:4-7 75 n. 12 37 187 n. 39
9:13-23 87 76:6-7 314-15
9:24 190 77:2 83
11:6 75 n. 12 82 44, 56, 58, 277
11:13-20 75 n. 12 82:3-4 56, 278
12:24 190 82:6-7 278
15:18-19 189 88:2 83, 85
15:23 189 106:46 121
15:29 189 107:6 85 n. 44
18:4 189 107:13 85
18:17 190 107:19 85
19:7 84 107:28 85 n. 44
20 188 109 186
20:28 188 110 24 n. 38
20:29 188 136:15 282
20:39 190 142:2 83
21:4 185 142:6 83
21:7 184-85, 187, 191-92, 195 145:19 85 n. 44
21:8-13 186 147:10-11 314-15
21:17 191 PROVERBS
21:19-20 186 1-9 254
21:23-24 186 1:1 246
22:8 189 8:32-36 144
24:2-4 191 10:1 246
24:12 191 14:31 63, 187
27:13 188, 190 17:5 63, 187
27:14-23 189 18:17 187
30 87, 193 n. 46 21:13 83
30:5-8 190 21:30-31 315
31 191, 191 n. 45 25:1 246
31:2 192
31:3-4 192 TSATAH
31:16-17 189 n. 44 2:1-2 108
31:35-37 192 2:2-4 92, 93 n. 7, 108
31:38-40 192 2:5 109
35:9-12 84 5:7 83
42:7-8 193 5:20-23 87
42:10-13 192, 195 5:24-25 77
42:10 188, 193 6:9-10 225
42:11 193 7:1—9:7 27, 37
42:12-16 300 7:8 28
42:12 193 9:2-7 28
42:15 188 9:6 28
13-14 113 n. 4
P S AT M S 14:1 125 n. 19
9:12 83 14:31 83
9:13-15 85 15:4 83
20:7 314-15 17:2 96 n. 14
22:2 85 n. 42 19:20 85
22:6 83, 85 30:15-16 313
326 Index o f Scripture References
TSAIAH /rnntinupH) 55:1-3 134-46, 273

31:1 313-15 55:7 125 n. 19
31:3 313 55:13 192
33:15-16 284 56-66 134
36:16 106 n. 23 57:13 a t'
37:22-29 120 n. 13 57:15-16 298
40-55 113, 134-35 57:15 55, 229
40:1-11 171-72 59:1 130
40:1-2 118 60-62 37
40:18 54 60:10 125 n. 19
40:27 130 61:1-4 52
41:1-5 138 65:2 96 n. 13
41:21-29 138 65:17-25 66, 67
42:2 83 65:21-22 58, 67
42:3 242 65:24 67
42:6-7 51
43:15-17 315 JEREMIAH
43:16-21 316 1-25 118
43:16-17 313 1:10 91
43:18-19 90 2:37 185
43:18 37 3:19 164
44-47 122 5:17 106 n. 23
44:7 54 5:28 185
46 52, 55, 56, 183 6:22-24 116-17
46:2 55 6:23 125
46:4 55 7:13 96 n. 14
46:5 55 9:22-23 245 n. 1, 314,
46:6 55 314 nn. 65-66
46:7 84, 85
9:23-24 66, 245 n. 1
46:11 55
11:11-12 84, 85
47 52, 118, 121, 183
47:5-7 12:1 184-85, 194-95
113, 118-20
12:15 125 n. 19
47:6 125
47:10 22:13-27 49
130
47:25 22:13-19 28, 37
120
48:15 184 22:15-16 66
49:6 51 22-.30 185
49:13-15 125 n. 19, 172 25:8-11 116, 118
50 122 25:12-14 116, 116 n. 10
50:2 130 26-52 116 n. 10
51:1 37 27-28 116 n. 10
52:13—53:12 52 27:2 116 n. 10
53:2-3 52 27:5-7 116, 118
53:3 45 29 116 n. 10, 144 n. 21
53:10 184 29:28 96 n. 13
53:11-12 52 30-31 188 n. 40, 193-94
54:7-10 125 30:10 96 n. 14
54:9-17 69 30:18 125 n. 19
54:13 69 31:1-4 53
54:14 69 31:20 125
54:15-17 69 31:31-34 53, 65, 67
54:17 184 31:31 47
55 7 31:33 48
55:1-5 34 n. 71 31:34 48, 49
Index o f Scripture References 327
32:1-15 194-95, 194 n. 47 DANIEL

32:10-12 194 1-11 141 n. IV
32:15 194 1-6 14 3-44
32:42-44 194 1 7, 134-46, 243, 27)
33 193 1:5-9 113 n.4
33:26 125 4:19-27 113, 123-25
34 64, 65 4:22 125
34:8-22 62 4:27 125-26
34:8-10 62 4:31 127
34:11-16 62 4:34-37 125
34:13-14 62 4:34-35 124
34:14-16 62 4:36 125
34:15 63 7 123
34:16 63
34:17-22 63 HOSEA
34:20-23 63 1:7 312, 315
35 63 2 168
42 117 2:8 54
42:9-17 113-15, 117 2:12 106 n. 23
42:12 121, 125 2:14 45, 106 n. 23
46:27 96 n. 14 2:16-20 168
48:4 83 2:16 169
48:34 83 2:18-20 53
49:19 124 2:19-20 45
50 118 4:14-15 13 n. 1
50:41-43 7:14 83
113, 115-18
50:44-46 8:1-6 78
117
50:44 124, 127 n. 22 8:2 78
8:4 77
50:46 83
8:5 77, 78
51:54 83
11 166 n. 39
T-AMF.NTTATTONS 11:8-9 168
1:2 130 11:8 45
1:17 130 11:9 45
1:21 130
JOEL
3:8 84
1:12 106 n. 23
3:22-24 31, 34 n. 71, 125 n. 19
2:22 106 n. 23
3:31-33 31, 125 n. 19
3:8 78
5:20-22 127 4:8 78
EZEKIEL AMOS
30:12 78 1:11 113 n.5
34:11-16 68 5:7 87
34:23-24 68 87
5:10-12
34:25-31 68, 69 5:11 96 n. 13
34:26-27 68 5:13 52
34:27 68 7:10-17 27, 37
34:28 68, 96 n. 14 9:14 58, 96 n. 13
37:24-28 69
37:24 69 MICAH
37:27 69 2:1-5 96 n. 14, 97, 195 n. 48
39:26 96 n. 14 3:1-3 97
40-48 25 n. 42 3:4 84, 97 n. 15
44 37 3:9-12 93
328
MICAH (continued) ---------------

4 101
4:1-5 68 n. 17, 92, 93,
100, 104-9
4:1-4 92 n. 5, 101-4
4:1-2 95
4:1 93, 94
4:2-4 95
4:2 93, 94, 98, 109
4:3 96, 109
4:4 92, 93 n. 7, 94, 96,
101 , 102
4:5 93 n. 7, 94, 94 n. 9,
109
5:10 313, 315
5:15 313
7:19 125 n. 19
JONAH --------------------------------
3:7-8 84
4:11 300 n. 42
HABAKKUK -------------------------
1:2 84, 85
3:2 125 n. 19
ZEPHANIAH -------------------------
3:13 96 n. 14
HAGGAI ------------------------------
2:19 106 n. 23
ZECHARIAH ________________
1:12 125 n. 19
1:16 125 n. 19
3:10 106 n. 23
4:6 313, 315
10:6 125
APOCRYPHA
1 MACCABEES ----------------------
14:4-15 106
14:8 107
14:9 107
14:12 106
Index of Scripture References
NEW TESTAMENT
MATTHEW
5:17-20 66
6:24 89
6:25-33 283
6:29 262
16:12 66
23:37 172
MARK
1:14-15 89
5:22-24 233
5:35-43 233
8:15 89, 243, 284
10:42-44 50
TTTKF
1:51-53 278
4:18-19 52
4:26 228
7:18-22 57
7:22-23 44
10:21-24 311
12:13-21 282
12:22-31 283
15:2 47
22:20 53
JO H N
1:48-50 106 n. 23
4 228
4:7 229
ACTS
2:24 233
3:6 55
ROMANS
14:1-23 49
1 CORINTHIANS
1:25 318
1:31 314
11:25 53
12:14-25 2 44
13:2 49
PHUJPPIANS
4:11-13 283
1 PFTFR
2:9-10 44
1 JOHN
4:20-21 49

A Social Reading of The Old Testament

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OTHER FORTRESS PRESS BOOKS

The Land: Place as Gift, Promise, and Challenge

FORTRESS PRESS MINNEAPOLIS

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Manufactured in the U.SA. AF 1-2734

K N O W N PRIMARILY as an Old Testam ent theologian, and

to b o th er Brueggem ann very m uch. But our reading o f the presen­

o f contem porary society in any form al sense, bu t he has his ear to

m ost instances, as far as the substance o f B rueggem ann’s argum ent

2. See Brueggemann, “Futures in Old Testament Theology,” in Old Testament

un d ercu ttin g prevailing ideologies and practices while at the same

4. On Brueggemann’s consistent focus on particular texts, see my introduction

Scripture, the cry to God o f the oppressed or suffering victim an d

texts to see if such free interpretation cannot also tu rn ou t to make

I t HAS LONG BEEN RECOGNIZED that there are two circles of

1. On the extensive literature, see Leonhard Rost, “Sinaibund und Davidsbund,”

Tension and, in some ways, conflict between the traditions can

Koester, attention to trajectories is at best imprecise and does no t

7. George Mendenhall, “The Hebrew Conquest of Palestine,” BA 25 (1962): 66-

tion.”8 O ppressed people with an alternative vision of social order

8. Mendenhall, “The Hebrew Conquest,” 119.

rael’s egalitarian m ovem ent as a m ore radical step. Thus, Israel is

for u n derstanding Israel. But that conceptualization has in scholarly

engaged in the history o f Israel and who was im pacted by Israel’s

theological vision and sociological organization. A totalitarian, hi­

Marx th at the ultim ate criticism is the criticism o f heaven, which

form stress continuity with an d propose fidelity to the tradition o f

freedom o f God, and the notion o f presence was precarious. Now

37. Cross, Canaanite Myth, 195-215.

41. See Anderson, Creation versus Chaos.

to have been peculiarly open to an d vulnerable to the transform ing

an d “holy” (qados). Thus, it is no t quite so clear that his position

see Odil H. Steck, “Theological Streams of Tradition,” in Tradition and Theology in

Special note should be taken o f Josiah, who occupied a crucial

texts now generally regarded as later additions (Deut. 4:29-31; 30:1-

“the hum an condition.” T here is no do ubt th at Jo b protests the

No to such inversions o f the Deuteronomic ethic of election.” T here is, to be sure,

sion is inherently socially conservative. T here is not within ι)ι<· icitii n

an earlier essay,67 B ernhard A nderson showed the extent to which

67. Bernhard W. Anderson, “Exodus Typology in Second Isaiah,” in Israel’s Pro­

fo rm ulated in this perio d to m eet the situation of dislocation.72

A. imperial Zadok: the royal history P: “I will be Zadokite

Isa. 7:1—9:7: “Behold, I

B. revolt of Abiathar: prophetic D: ‘You Levitical

be traced th ro u g h the various periods in each o f the strands, thus

75. Steck (“Theological Streams of Tradition”) has pursued a parallel investigation

A. The Royal Trajectory B. The Liberation Trajectory

(2) speaks a language of fertility (2) speaks a language of war and

(3) preferred mode of perception is (3) preferred mode of perception is

(5) tends to be socially conserving with (5) tends to be socially revolution­

Moreover, we may suggest, again in quite schematic fashion, com ­

77. It is, of course, presumptuous to speak of an emerging paradigm. The defi­

n o t u n related to this paradigm . C oncerning the early period, Gott­

80. Most evident in his utilization of the “Asiatic mode of production.”

an d cannot be changed to history understood the same way, how­

I t IS A BIT IRONIC th at increased attention is being paid to the

A God Who Embraces

g°ry “god.” Making a theoretical case that this God is unique is no t

heaven. And while th at disclosure moves through the long m em ory

I will allure her to the wilderness [and begin again];

This anguished p o e t affirms th at there is a new beginning possi­

He was despised and rejected by men and women,

This G od bears n o n e o f the marks o f a god. This God has given up

to b o th er Brueggem ann very m uch. But our reading o f the presen

theological vision and sociological organization. A totalitarian, hi

67. Bernhard W. Anderson, “Exodus Typology in Second Isaiah,” in Israel’s Pro

(5) tends to be socially conserving with (5) tends to be socially revolution

Moreover, we may suggest, again in quite schematic fashion, com

77. It is, of course, presumptuous to speak of an emerging paradigm. The defi

n o t u n related to this paradigm . C oncerning the early period, Gott

an d cannot be changed to history understood the same way, how

This anguished p o e t affirms th at there is a new beginning possi

acterized in relational, political categories and not in the con

the theological revolution articulated in Psalm 82, where Yahweh as

In verses 20-25, Yahweh has declared war against Judah. T he viola

T he covenant is em bodied in the act of liberating slaves. Viola

distinct parts.11 Certainly by the tim e of the D euteronom istic His

3. It is likely that our form ula in the book o f Judges is nei

th e en tire fo rm u la su m m o n s Israel to shift fro m o n e life-world to an

O n the face o f it, we are given a com prehensive picture o f an af