Book Reviews

Joseph R. Dodson and Mattie Mae Motl, Conquerors Not Captives: Reframing Romans 7 for the Christian Life

Dodson, Joseph R. and Mattie Mae Motl. Conquerors Not Captives: Reframing Romans 7 for the Christian Life. Lexham Press, 2024. xxi+175 pp.; Pb.; $16.99. Link to Lexham Press

Joseph R. Dodson is Craig L. Blomberg Endowed Chair of New Testament at Denver Seminary and an associate pastor at New Denver Church. He wrote this book with his daughter, Mattie Mae Motl, a graduate of Denver Seminary and a pastoral resident at Denver Community Church. This is a short, focused study of Romans 7:14–25, primarily on the identity of the wretched person in verse 24. There are many possible interpretations of this passage, and the verses usually occupy several pages in any Roman commentary. C. E. B. Cranfield’s ICC Commentary, for example, has a list of seven possible interpretations.  Unfortunately, one interpretation consistently comes up in popular preaching: the wretched man is Paul talking about his own struggle in the Christian life.Romans 7According to Dodson, this view is impossible based on reading the rest of Paul’s letters. In Romans, Paul argues that the Holy Spirit enables believers to overcome sin. Romans 8:27 seems clear: believers are “more than conquerors in Christ.” Any interpretation that understands the wretched man as referring to Paul himself clashes with the context of Romans 7:24. Dodson considers this view a “blunt and clumsy popular view that leads believers to think that they are impotent before sin and powerless to do good” (xviii). To read Romans 7:24 this way is a “flip it surrender to sin,” which sounds like Emily Dickinson: “The heart wants what it wants, or else it doesn’t care” (7). Unfortunately, this will lead to a learned helplessness in the Christian life. “A person persuaded she will always be defeated by sin likely will be. People rarely win battles they have are convinced they have already lost” (127). This “learned helplessness” completely ignores Romans 6 and Romans 8.

Dodson divides the possible interpretations of Romans 7:24 into two broad categories: the wretched man is not Paul (chapter 1), or the wretched man is Paul (chapter 2). He observes that Augustine, Luther, and Calvin thought that the wretched man somehow refers to Paul’s life. This does not mean that the wretched cry implies Paul was giving into sin or doing evil things. Chapter 8 covers several minority views on the identity of the wretched man (some of which are categories of Dodson’s broad categories).

To support the academic consensus view on Romans 7:24 that Paul is not talking about his own personal experience, Dodson walks through the context of Romans 5–8 (chapter 3), concluding that the context of Romans 6 and Romans 8 does not give any evidence. A believer is still enslaved to sin. He then provides an exegetical commentary on Romans 7:14–25 (chapter 4) and other relevant passages (chapter 5).

Chapters 6–7 deal with eight objections to the view that the wretched man is not Paul or referring to the Christian’s ongoing struggle with sin or their inevitable defeat by sin. The biggest problem is that Paul used “I” in this passage. Why did he use that pronoun if he was not talking about himself? Richard Longenecker, Dodson argues that there is a difference between the autobiographical I and the gnomic I. For example, in 1 Corinthians 13, Paul says, “If I speak…”. This is an example of a gnomic I since Paul is not specifically referring to himself (82). In Romans 7, Paul speaks about anyone living without God, not necessarily himself.

One of the more difficult objections to the wretched man not referring to Paul himself is the question, “What about my own experience?” Many Christians feel guilty because they do not live a moral life that they know they should. Every Christian struggles with sin in their life. Isn’t this what Paul is talking about in Romans 7:24? Dodson considers this objection, reading one’s own baggage into the text. Proper understanding of Romans 7:24 requires that we not imagine that Paul has had the same sort of experience that we have. To a certain extent, this is exactly why Augustine and Martin Luther thought the wretched man was the apostle Paul: they were reading their own struggle with sin into Paul’s statement.

Conclusion. Conquerors, Not Captives is a stimulating study of one particular issue in the book of Romans. But this is not an academic book for the sake of academics; Dodson has a pastoral heart, which frequently comes through in this book. Over dealing with an academic issue, Dodson wrote the book in a style that will be accessible to people who want to dig deeper into this important topic. Pastors should read this book carefully before preaching on Romans 7:24.

Addendum: I just ran across this article, which might interest some readers: Wong, Matthew. “A Defense of the ‘Mature Autobiographical Believer’ Interpretation Of The ‘Wretched Man’ In Romans 7:24 .” Journal of Dispensational Theology 26.72–73 (2022).

NB: I appreciate Lexham Press’s generous offer of a review copy of this book, but this did not influence my thoughts about the work.

Gary A. Anderson, That I May Dwell Among Them: Incarnation and Atonement in the Tabernacle Narrative

Anderson, Gary A. That I May Dwell Among Them: Incarnation and Atonement in the Tabernacle Narrative. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2023. xvi+254 pp. Hb; $35.99.  Link to Eerdmans

Gary Anderson in Hesburgh Professor of Catholic Thought at the University of Notre Dame. His previous books include Sin: A History (Yale University Press, 2010) and Charity: The Place of the Poor in the Biblical Tradition (Yale University Press, 2013). Like his The Genesis of Perfection: Adam and Eve in Jewish and Christian Imagination (WJKP, 2001), That I May Dwell Among Them carefully examines a theme from the Old Testament that is related to later Christian theology. Rather than start with incarnation and atonement in the New Testament and then “salvage” the Tabernacle narrative, Anderson starts with the Old Testament text. He develops what the Tabernacle narrative says about God dwelling with his people and providing atonement before he moves forward to the New Testament and Christian theology. Throughout the book, Anderson is guided by Brevard Child’s canonical method, which enables him to see connections between Leviticus and the creation story (see, for example, the citation of Childs on page 161).

Tabernacle Narrative

The Tabernacle narrative is tedious, repetitive, and difficult for many Christian readers to read. Aside from popular studies that overuse (and abuse) typology, most Christian readers ignore this section of Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers. Anderson suggests this is unfortunate, especially since the gospel of John uses tabernacle language (Exodus 25) to describe the “word became flesh.” The purpose of the Word becoming flesh is to reveal God’s glory, a consistent theme with Exodus 40:34–35. Anderson’s book argues the Tabernacle revealed God’s glory and presence to Israel. The Tabernacle Narrative is a large section of the Pentateuch: Exodus is devoted to the building of the Tabernacle, Leviticus 1-10 to the service of the Tabernacle, and Numbers 1-10 to how the Tabernacle guided Israel to Canaan.

A chapter briefly overviewing the reception of the Tabernacle narrative Christian Bible sets the agenda for the book. On the theological level, how do we better understand the person of Jesus in the light of the Tabernacle? How can the sacrificial system shed light on Jesus’s sacrifice? He returns to these themes in the book’s final two chapters (on incarnation and atonement). To make these theological observations, Anderson provides a detailed study of the Tabernacle Narrative.

The second chapter is devoted to the inauguration of the Tabernacle. Anderson connects creation and the Garden of Eden to the Tabernacle, as is common in biblical theology today. However, he observes a similar “pattern of sevens” in the creation and Tabernacle Narrative. God speaks to create in Exodus 25–39. God speaks to Moses to do seven things leading up to the erection of the Tabernacle (Exodus 40). This pattern of sevens is seen again in the ordination of the priests (Leviticus 8). Exodus is focused on the structure of the Tabernacle, while Leviticus is focused on its altar and service. For this reason, Anderson suggests the temple Tabernacle narrative has two climaxes. In Exodus, the furniture and other implements are front and center. Leviticus describes the altar and the sacrifices.

Chapters 3 and 4 (Seeing God and Serving God) describe the divine presence in Numbers 4, and the tamid sacrifices in Exodus 29. Anderson carefully studies the Levitical families who cared for the tabernacle and its furniture. The Ark of the Covenant is the main sign of God’s presence, that God “really dwells in the Tabernacle” (59). Looking at the sacred things in the Tabernacle is similar to some aspects of seeing God. Although Anderson does not mention it, it is possible that the description of the Tabernacle in Exodus is a form of ekphrasis (a literary genre describing a static image, usually a piece of art). Both chapters include the Second Temple period reception of the Tabernacle Narrative. The theme of “seeing” is found in Jewish coinage from the Bar Kokhba Revolt depicting the temple (65–66). He introduces the tamid sacrifice by describing a carpet mosaic from a synagogue at Sepphoris depicting Aaron’s first sacrifice. In addition, he includes references to the Tabernacle and temple in the Dead Sea scrolls in Rabbinic literature. Anderson includes examples from post-biblical sources in both cases because they “build upon a foundation that is deeply biblical” (67).

Chapters 5 and 6 discuss the theophany in Leviticus 9. All four sons of Aaron commit errors, but Moses reprimands only two of them. Anderson sees a connection with creation theology here. He argues a “textual chasm” exists between Leviticus 8-9. Leviticus 8 lays out the offering details, and then Leviticus 9 begins the liturgical process (114). The priests begin to act on their own, but they immediately suffer their “first accident” (117). Leviticus 10 describes Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron who offered “strange fire” before the Lord, and fire came from the Lord and consumed them (Lev 10:1–2). There is no consensus on what exactly they did wrong. Anderson observes that this is much like Cain and Abel. As soon as creation is finished, there is a sacrifice, and God rejects a sacrifice.

Chapters 7 and 8 discuss the priestly narrative in the larger canonical setting. First, Anderson discusses the golden calf incident (Exodus 32). The golden calf story is likely from a different source and was inserted at this point for theological reasons. By venerating the golden calf, the people spurn the type of sanctuary described in the previous chapters of Exodus and its worship. Although Anderson does not state this, this is like Jeroboam, who rejected Solomon’s Temple and returned to worship of the golden calf (1 Kings 12:25-33). Anderson has a long citation from Karl Barth, which mentions Jeroboam (158), but his main interest is connecting this story to Genesis and original sin. The second larger canonical connection Anderson draws is to Genesis 22 in the binding of Isaac. He points out several potential allusions to Isaac’s binding in Moses’s intercession prayers, especially Exodus 32. Moses’s prayers always look back to the “unilateral and unconditional offer on God’s part to Abraham” (164). Using the Aramaic Levi document, Anderson grounds the tamid in the story of the binding of Isaac. He also references rabbinic literature and the mosaic at Sepphoris as other examples of Second Temple (and later) connections between the tamid and the binding of Isaac.

Conclusion. Anderson’s That I May Dwell Among Them is a rich study of the Tabernacle Narrative. By drawing canonical connections back to Genesis, he demonstrates the original creation story shapes this somewhat obscure material. By drawing canonical connections forward to the New Testament, he makes reasonable application of the Tabernacle narrative to theological issues such as incarnation and atonement.

 

NB: Thanks to Eerdmans for kindly providing me with a review copy of this book. This did not influence my thoughts regarding the work.

 

D. Clint Burnett, Paul and Imperial Divine Honors: Christ, Caesar, and the Gospel

Burnett, D. Clint. Paul and Imperial Divine Honors: Christ, Caesar, and the Gospel. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2024. xxvii+332 pp. Hb; $49.99.  Link to Eerdmans

In his Studying the New Testament through Inscriptions (Hendrickson Academic, 2020, reviewed here), Burnett hoped that “one day more New Testament students who use inscriptions in their interpretation of his documents and the historical reconstructions of early Christianity” (p. 165). Paul and Imperial Divine Honors is his first step toward reaching that goal.

Divine Honors

Burnett describes an inscription from Gythium (modern Gytheio) in his nineteen-page introduction to the book. The inscription is the sacred law of Gythium and includes the fullest known portrait of an imperial festival ever discovered. This was an eight-day festival honoring five Julio-Claudians (Augustus, Tiberius, Augustus’s wife Livia, and two of Tiberius’s sons). The festival also honored a Roman general and two local benefactors. The festival included sacred process sessions and sacrifices on each day devoted to the various dedicatees. This is a grant of divine honors to certain Roman rulers by an individual city. Although this illustrates what an imperial festival may have looked like, Burnett is clear: this inscription does not describe every imperial festival, nor can it be used to describe the granting of imperial honors in every Roman city.

Burnett must define what he means by “divine honors” clearly. He avoids using the phrase “imperial cult” because it implies that there was some centralized form of worship. Instead, he focuses his attention on individual local grants of divine honors. To define these divine honors, he proposes studying the material culture in Philippi, Thessalonica, and Corinth to demonstrate how each city gave divine honors differently. In doing so, Burnett demonstrates that there is no evidence that terms like kurios and soter were used as imperial titles, nor was euangelion in these inscriptions when Paul wrote his letters. But this does not mean Burnett is “an apologist in favor of imperial divine honors” (238). He wants to reconstruct early Christianity as accurately as possible. The divine honors granted by these cities are still arrogant and blasphemous, but it goes beyond the evidence to include kurios and soter among those honors.

This challenges the assumption among many New Testament scholars that when Paul uses language like kurios and soter he does so subversively, using “anti-imperial rhetoric.” Scholars as early as Deissmann (and more recently, N. T. Wright) assume all Divine imperial honors are the same. If a divine honor (such as kurios in Pergamum, referring to Trajan, for example) is found elsewhere, it is often assumed to apply in other Roman cities, such as Philippi or Corinth. In his commentary on Romans and Paul and the Faithfulness of God, Wright states that kurios and euangelion echo imperial rhetoric. Wright suggests, “Caesar is guilty of giving himself divine.” Burnette points out that the earliest evidence for this comes from A.D. 67 in Greece, after Paul’s death. Aside from Caligula, there was no Julio-Claudian demand for divine honors, and several specifically declined those honors when offered while they were still alive. This includes Nero, who did not want to divine honors while he lived. Burnett concludes, “Most Julio-Claudians tried to curb such honors for themselves from communities under their dominion while they were still alive” (233). Therefore, Cesar was never guilty of giving himself divine honors. With respect to the title kurios as a divine honor, Burnett concludes “There is no evidence that the city [of Thessalonica] hailed any Julio-Claudian, dead or alive, by that epithet, even though Thessalonica called Julius Caesar, Augustus, and Claudius gods after their deaths, and Livia a goddess during her lifetime” (147).

Burnett aims to create a localized, contextual profile of divine honors, using inscriptions, coins, archaeology, and literary sources when available. Each chapter briefly sketches how New Testament scholars describe imperial honors in their commentaries. For example, Karl Donfried considers inscriptions and other evidence to argue that some terms Paul uses have a political connotation. This includes words like basileia (βασιλεία, kingdom; 2:12), parousia (παρουσία, coming, 4:15), and apantēsis (ἀπάντησις , meeting; 4:17). Burnett is used that this generalizing approach to divine honors is inadequate and problematic. Evidence from first-century Thessalonica does not support the idea that parousia and apantēsis are technical terms for a royal imperial visit (109).

For Philippi, Thessalonica, and Corinth, Burnett catalogs the divine honors granted by the local government for each of the Julio-Claudians. This includes inscriptions, coins, and archaeology (usually statues portraying the emperor as a god). Each chapter includes a list of imperial cult officials known from inscriptions and the location of the imperial divine honors (when known). Following this data, he suggests how the imperial divine honors surveyed in the chapter shed light on Paul’s letter to that city. Terms like kurios, parousia, and apantēsis were not used in imperial honors, and euangelion was not a technical imperial term. Nevertheless, he suggests that a study of divine honors indicates that Christians were mistreated by their non-Christian counterparts for more complex reasons than a “Christ-versus-Caesar paradigm (148). 1 Thessalonians 1:6-9 states that Christians faced “much affliction” because they have turned away from idols and were eagerly awaiting the return of the Lord.

Burnett knows that these conclusions differ from those of other Pauline interpreters who see Paul using subversive, anti-imperial rhetoric in Romans 13. However, this does not mean Paul was pro-empire. How could Paul, who clearly abhors any sort of idolatry, ask Christians in Rome to submit to those who celebrate imperial divine honors? For Burnett, the answer lies in Paul’s apocalyptic theology (236). This Jewish perspective is most clearly presented in Daniel. In Daniel 6, for example, the emperor demands a divine honor: to receive prayer from the entire Empire. Daniel refuses, and he faces execution in the lion’s den. Burnett makes a startling observation: “Nowhere in the story does Daniel accuse Darius of blasphemy because he desired divine honors for himself” (237).  Daniel was able to maintain his devotion to the god of Israel, all the while serving an empire that demanded divine honors for itself. How is this possible? For Paul, the Empire is under the cosmic power of sin. Like Daniel, Paul considers the rulers of this age to have already been defeated. Although Burnett does not mention 3 Maccabees or 4 Maccabees, these apocryphal books also illustrate similar attitudes toward blasphemous rulers.

The book includes a fifty-four-page appendix of inscriptions mentioned in the book, including the Greek and Latin transcriptions and English translations. Burnett provides provenance and date with the source in the inscription collections. This is extremely helpful for scholars looking to read the evidence directly. The book is richly illustrated with black-and-white photographs of coins, inscriptions, and other archaeological evidence.

Conclusion. Burnett certainly achieves his goal of providing a database of inscriptions for three Greek cities that are important for interpreting Paul’s letters to Philippi, Thessalonians, and Corinth. His challenge to popular writing on Paul’s relationship with the Roman Empire should convince most to abandon generalizing comments about imperial divine honors or the imperial cult. This correction is helpful. However, he has limited his study to Julio-Claudians from the years that Paul wrote. His conclusions may look different for later divine honors in another location, such as Asia Minor, rather than Greece. However, his point is clear: evidence from the late century Ephesus or Pergamum should not be used to interpret Philippians, Thessalonians, or Corinthians.

Burnett blogs on inscriptions and the New Testament. Follow @DClintBurnett1.

NB: Thanks to Eerdmans for kindly providing me with a review copy of this book. This did not influence my thoughts regarding the work.

Richard E. Averbeck, The Old Testament Law for the Life of the Church

Averbeck, Richard E.  The Old Testament Law for the Life of the Church: Reading the Torah in the Light of Christ. Downers Grove, Ill.: IVP Academic, 2022. xvii+382 pp.; Pb.; $40.00 Link to IVP Academic

As emeritus professor of Old Testament and Semitic languages at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, Richard Averbeck approaches the issue of the Old Testament Law from the perspective of an Old Testament scholar who is also interested in spiritual formation and how the Old Testament informs Christian worship. In addition, Averbeck is interested in the Jewish Messianic movement (an appendix in this book explains this connection).

Averbeck Old Testament Law

In this monograph, Averbeck deals with the contentious issue of how Christianity relates to the practice of Old Testament Law. He suggests that a common misconception of the law is that the Christian is “free from the law” (Rom 7:6, Gal 5:13). Averbeck says that although this is true, it does not mean Christians are to pay no attention to the Law. Christians are free from condemnation under the law (Rom 8:1), but just a few verses earlier in Romans, Paul states that the law is holy, righteous, and good (Rom 7:12–14). The believer is obligated to fulfill the righteous standards of the law, which Averbeck suggests can be fully done through the ministry of the Holy Spirit.

Averbeck has three theses that guide the book. First, the law is good. He demonstrates that in both the Old and New Testaments, the law is always described as good, holy, and righteous, and it applies to the lives of God’s people in the Old Testament and two Christians today. Second, the law is weak, especially compared to the power of the Holy Spirit. The power of the Holy Spirit enables the Christian to live the Christian life, not the Law. Third, the law is a unified whole. He does not think that there are separate “kinds of laws.” The artificial division of the law into civil, ceremonial, or moral law needs to be abandoned since the Law can be separated into these categories. The law is always understood as the whole law. This means that the whole law was and is still good, profitable for the Christian, and applies to the life of Christians today (21).

The book is divided into three parts. In part one, Covenant and Context, Averbeck introduces the concept of redemptive covenants and focuses on renewing the mosaic covenant at several points (Exodus 24:1–11, Deut 26:16–17; Joshua 24; 1 Samuel 12). He suggests the Last Supper is “essentially a covenant oath and covenant meal” (53). Communion looks back on what Jesus did on the cross but also looks forward to fulfilling the obligations of the new covenant. Communion is, therefore, a covenant renewal ritual.

Redemptive covenants are not conditional or unconditional. This idea needs to be abandoned (57). Redemption covenants are based on promises and ongoing obligations. Each covenant functions under the umbrella of the previous covenant. Averbeck outlines his four covenants: Abrahamic, Mosaic, Davidic, and the New Covenant (58). Although Averbeck does not express it this way, the previous covenants are progressively narrowing. The Abrahamic Covenant is narrowed in the Mosaic Covenant, which is further narrowed in the Davidic Covenant. (Attentive readers, major echoes of a kind of progressive dispensationalism in this section, although this is not explicit in the book.) He points out that nothing in the previous covenants is eliminated; nothing from the previous covenant is “set aside.” Instead, the Mosaic Covenant expands and extends the Abrahamic covenant. “Essentially, the ‘law of Christ’ is how Jesus mediates the Old Testament law to us in the New Covenant in Christ” (77). The Old Testament law is now written on our hearts, the activity of the Holy Spirit. This is the nature of the new covenant community of faith.

In part two, he covers Old Testament law in context. These chapters aim to describe the purpose of the Mosaic Law, especially the sacrificial system. This includes a mini-commentary on the Ten Commandments and several detailed chapters on various aspects of Law, emphasizing how these aspects of the law can be applied to the New Covenant Christian community. In discussing the sacrifices and Leviticus, Averbeck observes that the Priestly conception embraces all of creation (cleanliness, food laws). Israel’s relationship with creation is that they are a nation with God dwelling in their midst. All the purification rituals force Israel to remember God’s visible, physical presence in their midst (221). Because God was present in the Old Testament in a physical and real way, he demanded physical purity from his people. This explains much of the purity code in Leviticus. But it is clear in the New Testament that food laws or other purity laws no longer bind (Gentile) believers. But that does not mean the Christian can be impure! Averbeck understands purity in a spiritual sense in the new covenant community of the New Testament. Sometimes, this reads like Averbeck argues for a spiritualized reading of the Law.

Part three begins with two chapters on the law in Jesus’s ministry and within the early church (Acts and Epistles). Averbeck traces the shift in scholarly reading of Jesus after the New Perspective on Paul was applied to the gospels. Scholars stopped reading Jesus through the lens of Paul (229). Jesus has three main goals in Matthew 5:17–48. First, he did not come to undermine the law. Two2, the way the Pharisees were teaching the law did not produce righteousness. Third, Jesus declared his own reading of the law, and his authority is a teacher of the law 241. As an example, Averbeck cites Jesus’s teaching on the Sabbath. “Jesus was not denying the importance of the Sabbath, and, in fact, he did not violate it. But neither did he bow to the casuistry that the Pharisees added to its regulation” (250). With the inauguration of the church in Acts, he sees both discontinuity and continuity with the law in the new covenant redemptive community as the church shifted from Jewish to a mix of Jews and Gentiles (254).

Initially, Jewish Christians saw themselves as a movement within Judaism. Regulations that separated Israel from the Gentile nations could not continue in a mixed Jew-Gentile church (269). But there is no less interest in holiness and purity in the church than in ancient Israel (220). “The covenant kingdom in the New Testament is a continuation of this kingdom with Jewish roots, but it is now largely made up of Gentiles (274).

The book’s final two chapters describe how the moa functions in the new covenant, the gentile church. He reminds his readers of his three theses. What the Law was powerless to do, the Holy Spirit can. Now that the law is written on the heart, the power of the Holy Spirit enables believers to be holy. Holiness was always the goal in the Old Testament Law. God wanted a transformation of the heart, often referred to as “circumcision of the heart” (Lev 26:40-41; Jer 4:4).

Nevertheless, Paul certainly states that Gentile Christians are not under the law (Gal 3:21). Paul compares the law to a tutor. The time of the tutor is over, so believers in Christ are no longer “under the curse of the law” (Gal 3:13).  For Averbeck, this does not mean ignoring the Mosaic Law as useless for the church. The Christian should understand the weakness of the law, in contrast to the power of the Holy Spirit, to live life in the new covenant. This tracks well with Romans 6-8 and other Pauline texts, which demand holiness for those who are in Christ.

Conclusion. Compared to classic Protestant approaches to the Law, Averbeck charts a different course. Rather than take some parts of the Laws as “fulfilled” in Christ and no longer applicable and others as still valid, he argues the whole Law is good, holy, and righteous and still of great importance for the church today. Paying attention to the Old Testament will guide a new covenant believer today as they seek to live a life of holiness. Although some readers will not agree with his application of the Law as a guide for holiness, this book challenges Christians to take the Old Testament seriously, even though most would rather ignore it as “for the Old Testament Jews and not us.”

 

NB: I appreciate IVP Academic’s generous offer of a review copy of this book, but this did not influence my thoughts about the work.

Stephen D. Campbell, et al., A New Song: Biblical Hebrew Poetry as Jewish and Christian Scripture

Campbell, Stephen D., Richard G. Rohlfing, Jr., and Richard S. Briggs, eds. A New Song: Biblical Hebrew Poetry as Jewish and Christian Scripture. Studies in Scripture and Biblical Theology. Bellingham, Wash.: Lexham Press, 2023. xxiii+279 pp.; Pb.; $26.99. Link to Lexham Press

This volume in the Studies in Scripture and Biblical Theology series collects papers presented at a conference hosted by Upshaw College in Durham in 2019. The conference included scholars from the Academy and various communities of faith. The essays are not limited to the Psalms; these essays discuss poetry found in Genesis 49, the Song of the Sea, Hannah’s prayer, Isaiah, and more. In fact, the authors included in this volume are intentionally diverse, including a wide range of religious and cultural perspectives. Christian and Jewish scholars are included, and the collection includes a response from the Irish poet Micheal O’Siadhail.

Biblical Hebrew Poetry

The first part of the book collects nine essays on biblical Hebrew Poetry as Jewish and Christian Scripture. John Goldingay’s essay “On Reading Genesis 49: How Hebrew Poetry Communicates Then and Now” ranges wide in the Hebrew Bible to engage with poetical devices and to discuss their effect rather than trying to resolve them. This essay introduces Hebrew poetry, explaining how the genre uses figures of speech.

C. T. R. Hayward discusses the Song of the Sea (Exodus 15) in Jewish and Christian Liturgical Tradition. Beginning with the Septuagint as the earliest interpretation of the Song, Hayward traces how the Song was used in Judaism (Philo) and early Christianity (Eusebius). The Mishnah reports that rabbi Akiba said the Song was recited like the shema. His essay also tracks the use of the Son in the Psalter. The Song became a part of the Paschal celebration in the Church.

David G. Firth discusses the Interface of Poetics and Ethics in an Embedded Poem in Hannah’s Prayer (1 Samuel 2:1–10). For Firth, this poem embedded in narrative is the hermeneutical key for the books of Samuel. The prayer makes the ethics of the books Samuel’s clear. In the song, David is introduced as the king who is brought from a lowly position to a position of power. Because he does not humble himself, the Lord humbles and brings him down. Only after David humbles himself after his great sin will the Lord exalt him again.

Ellen F. Davis examines three lament Psalms (38, 42-43; “Bending the Silence: Reading Psalms through the Arts”). In doing so, she explores the theological aesthetics of lament, comparing these psalms to John Donne, contemporary poet Gregory Orr, and lament has demonstrated in contemporary dance.

Bible translator June F. Dickie offers a reader-response approach to the transition of the Psalms. Rather than a discussion of translation methods, she draws comparisons to the psalms and Zulu youth music, laments from people suffering from aids, and a creative performance artist.

Benjamin D. Sommer discusses the contentious debate surrounding the structure of Hebrew poetry and biblical parallelism as the key to understanding poetry. He examines Psalms 27 and 114 to show how this might shape the reading of Assam. Drawing comparisons to modern poetry, he suggests that the cyclical nature of poetry is more important than stanzas, verses, etc.

Rabbi Shai Held wrestles with Psalm 88, a paradigmatic lament psalm. Held takes a different approach than most and argues that this psalm is even darker than most readers realize. The Psalmist thinks God has forsaken him. A lament, Held suggests, is “suffering given the dignity of language” (154).

Katie M. Heffelfinger uses Isaiah 45:9–25 to show that biblical prophetic poetry conveys truth through encounter, emotion, and ambiguity. Applied to Isaiah, she teases out the prophet’s emotions in an intense poetic voice. This approach to poetry contributes significantly to faith communities and various cultural contexts by engaging our imaginative capacity to confront our world.

Yisca Zimran suggests a dynamic-synchronic reading of Hosea generates insights for the modern reader. The article argues that keeping an eye on the “Assyria-Egypt motif” provides a cohesive reading of the individual units found in Hosea. This place is God’s relationship with humanity in a broader context.

Part two of the collection is a single essay by Richard G. Rohlfing Jr. (Contemporary Poetry in Dialogue), and part three contains three responses from poets and pastors. Several examples of contemporary poetry are set in comparison to the biblical psalms. The responses to the essays provide a challenging perspective for those accustomed to reading academic papers on Hebrew poetry. Susan Gillingham tracks the idea of a “new song” in the Psalms and suggests the idea of a new song has a poignant relevance for a post-COVID-19 world. Micheal O’Siadhail offers a response from the perspective of a poet. Methodist pastor Jason Byassee offers a final reflection on the “New Song” Conference.

Conclusion. This book is not an introduction to biblical poetry, although, in some ways, it can serve in that role. The academic essays cover the nuances of biblical poetry in the Psalms and prophets. Still, most of the essays are interested in drawing out implications from biblical poetry to contemporary situations in the church. The conference organizers should be applauded for assembling an intentionally diverse collection of contributors.  What is unique about this collection is the intentional juxtaposition of biblical poetry and contemporary poetry. Although this might not appeal to all readers, the result is challenging for anyone who wants to apply biblical poetry to the contemporary church.

NB: I appreciate Lexham Press’s generous offer of a review copy of this book, but this did not influence my thoughts about the work.

 

 

Published on April 5, 2024 on Reading Ac