Vanhoozer - Theological Interpretation of the Old Testament

Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 2008. – 336 p.

ISBN-10:‎ 9780801036248

ISBN-13:‎ 978-0801036248

 

Theological Interpretation of the Old Testament and its companion Theological Interpretation of the New Testament attempt to provide models for proceeding toward a more constructive engagement with Scripture. While the authors are not working from a single methodological template, three premises undergird the approaches represented herein.

 

The theological interpretation of the Bible is not the exclusive property of biblical scholars but the joint responsibility of all the theological disciplines and of the whole people of God, a peculiar fruit of the communion of the saints. It was Gerhard Ebeling who once declared that church history is essentially the history of biblical interpretation. To the extent that this is so, the present crisis in biblical interpretation—the confusion not only over what the Bible means but also over how to read it—is also a crisis for the church. The study of church history can itself be a theological discipline insofar as it helps the present church to learn from previous ways of interpreting Scripture. Indeed, one reason for the increased interest in theological interpretation of the Bible is the recent rehabilitation of the reputation of the church fathers as profound exegetes. Some have even touted “the superiority of pre-critical exegesis” (Steinmetz).

 

Is biblical studies a theological discipline? By and large, the resounding answer, at least in the setting of the modern university, has been Nein! Modern biblical scholars insist that biblical studies must be autonomous in order to be critical (Barr). Yet some degree of involvement with theology seems to be inevitable, for three reasons. First, biblical scholars must have recourse to theology in order to make sense of the Bible’s main subject matter, God (Jeanrond). Readings that remain on the historical, literary, or sociological levels cannot ultimately do justice to what the texts are actually about. Second, biblical studies needs theology (especially the latter’s analysis of contemporary culture) in order to be aware of the aims, intentions, and presuppositions that readers invariably bring to the biblical text (Wright). Third, biblical studies needs theology in order to provide a sufficient reason for the academy’s continued engagement with the biblical text. Only the assumption that these texts say something of unique importance can ultimately justify the depth of the exegete’s engagement (Levenson).

 

A word about biblical theology is in order, for on the surface this discipline seems a likely candidate to mediate the divide between biblical studies and theology. However, some (e.g., Barr; Fowl) see biblical theology as one more symptom of modern biblical scholarship’s assumption that it is possible neutrally and objectively to describe the religious beliefs of the biblical writers. The results of this study—“what it meant” to them, back then—are of more antiquarian than ecclesial interest and are offered to the academy, not the church. Yet others (e.g., Watson; Rosner) view biblical theology as an activity that is practically identical with the theological interpretation of the Bible in its concern for hearing the word of God in the church today.

 

If exegesis without presuppositions is impossible, and if some of these presuppositions concern the nature and activity of God, then it would appear to go without saying that biblical interpretation is always/already theological. One’s view of God, for instance, will influence which biblical statements about God one considers literal and which statements one takes as figurative. The inevitability of employing theological categories, however, does not automatically license a wholesale appropriation of any one theological system. Nevertheless, readers with a theological interest, whether in the academy or the church, will at least seek to go further than describing what others have said or thought about God. Theological interpreters want to know, on the basis of Scripture and in light of contemporary concerns, what we should say and think about God.

 

Finally, practical theology takes part in biblical interpretation when it inquires into how the people of God should respond to the biblical texts. The way in which the church witnesses, through its language and life, is perhaps the most important form of theological interpretation of the Bible.

 

The theological interpretation of the Bible is characterized by a governing interest in God, the word and works of God, and by a governing intention to engage in what we might call “theological criticism.” Can theological interpretation be “critical,” and if so, in what sense? Historical and literary criticism we know, but with regard to theological criticism, we may be tempted to ask, “Who are you?”

 

A theological interpretation of the Bible is more likely to be critical of readers than of biblical authors or biblical texts. It is not that text criticism and other forms of criticism have no role; it is rather a matter of the ultimate aim of reading. Those who seek to interpret Scripture theologically want to hear the word of God in Scripture and hence to be transformed by the renewing of their minds (Rom. 12:2). In this respect, it is important to note that God must not be an “afterthought” in biblical interpretation. God is not simply a function of a certain community’s interpretative interest; instead, God is prior to both the community and the biblical texts themselves. A properly theological criticism will therefore seek to do justice to the priority of the living and active triune God. One way to do so is to guard against idols: images of God manufactured by the interpretative communities.

 

We believe that the principal interest of the Bible’s authors, of the text itself, and of the original community of readers was theological: reading the Scriptures therefore meant coming to hear God’s word and to know God better. Our aim therefore is not to impose yet another agenda or ideology onto the Bible, but rather to recover the Bible’s original governing interest. On this view, biblical interpretation takes the form of a confession or acknowledgment of the work and word of God in and through Scripture.

 

* * *

 

Samuel

 

BRIAN E. KELLY

 

Samuel was originally one book that was divided into two when the Hebrew text was translated into Greek, to accommodate the work to the length of scrolls typically used in classical antiquity. The books of Samuel are concerned primarily with the establishment of the monarchy in Israel under Saul, followed by the rise and reign of David. The prophet Samuel oversees the introduction of the monarchy, as kingmaker to both Saul and David. Through the actions of these three, the order of Israel’s life and faith is fundamentally changed, with reverberations felt throughout the rest of the Bible.

 

Highlights in the History of Interpretation

A dominant approach of patristic and medieval exegesis was to seek out the “spiritual” senses of Scripture as a strategy for reading the OT as a prophetic Christian book. These methods entailed imaginative typological and eschatological interpretations of the text. Thus, David’s career and rejection, then subsequent elevation as king in Jerusalem, were seen as prefiguring Christ, who was crucified, then enthroned in glory in heaven.

 

Reformation exegesis was much more restrained in any typological comparisons it drew between David and Christ. The Reformers essentially affirmed the Antiochene approach to Scripture, insisting that “the literal sense is the spiritual sense.” Thus, in Calvin’s Sermons on 2 Samuel the moral and theological meaning of the text is deduced primarily from historical exegesis and close attention to the literary context. For Calvin, of course, the OT’s witness was to Christ, and the NT authoritatively interpreted the OT. David’s kingdom and God’s promises to him had their proper meaning within that context and anticipated their fulfillment in Christ’s kingdom.

 

Much scholarly work in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries concentrated on literary source-critical approaches as a way of dealing with perceived tensions and doublets in the text. Thus, Wellhausen (1871) argued that an early promonarchic stratum (1 Sam. 9:1–10:16; chs. 11, 13–14) had been combined with a postexilic, antimonarchic stratum (1 Sam. 8; 10:17–27; chs. 12, 15) to produce a hybrid text of conflicting attitudes. The view that the present text has arisen from numerous expansions and elaborations of earlier sources has remained influential up to recent years (see, e.g., McCarter’s commentary).

 

Rost (1926) strongly advocated the view that older, originally separate documents had been combined to produce the present work. Rost identified 1 Sam. 4:1b–7:1 + 2 Sam. 6 as an independent “Ark Narrative,” 1 Sam. 16:14–2 Sam. 5 as an original “History of David’s Rise,” and 2 Sam. 9–20 + 1 Kings 1–2 as a “court history” (the “Succession Narrative” [SN]) detailing how Solomon became king. This last work Rost considered to be one of the world’s earliest examples of eyewitness historiography.

 

Noth’s (1943) hypothesis of a “Deuteronomistic History” (DH) understood 1–2 Samuel to be part of a continuous narrative (Deuteronomy– 2 Kings) composed by a single exilic writer using traditional materials. The extent of pre- and postexilic redactions of DH and additions thereto (and even the existence of such a work) remains a hotly debated subject. In Noth’s view, the underlying documents of 1–2 Samuel were incorporated into DH with comparatively little redaction. Noth held that 2 Sam. 21–24 was an “appendix” of miscellaneous Davidic materials added to the narrative after DH was divided into separate books.

 

Rost’s basic identification of documents is still broadly accepted, although the precise boundaries, dating, genre, and theme of these postulated documents (especially SN) are now much more disputed. Gunn, for example, defines SN as a novella rather than historiography. Keys rejects the inclusion of 1–2 Kings in the narrative on grounds of style and content, and holds that the real theme of 2 Sam. 9–20 is not succession but David’s sin and punishment. Complementary observations are made by Stoebe (2 Sam. 9–20 shows that despite David’s failings, the kingship perdured under God’s hand) and Provan (the narrative unmasks pretensions to “wisdom” that are not rooted in God and the divine Torah).

 

Gunn’s work signaled a turn from a concern with source criticism and historiography to final-form literary approaches concentrating on the poetics and ideology of the book. Brueggemann’s postliberal commentary follows this approach in focusing on the imaginative force and rhetoric of the presentation, and the relationship between religious faith and political power. More adventurous is Jobling’s postmodern handling of 1 Samuel, which presents an eclectic set of subversive readings engaged with contemporary issues (including class, polity, gender, ethnicity).

 

Recent writing in a more conservative vein argues against the older documentary theories (that differing outlooks in the text arose from the untidy growth and conflation of various traditions over time), holding instead that 1–2 Samuel should be read as a complex, intentional unity with a coherent theological message.

 

Long’s study of Saul’s reign rejects Wellhausen’s thesis of conflicting pro- and antimonarchic documents underlying 1 Sam. 8–15 by distinguishing the narrator’s voice from that of the characters (some of whom express anti-Saul rather than antimonarchic views). Following Halpern and Edelman, Long argues next that the complex account(s) of Saul’s election as king is comprehensible and not confused, once we grasp the different stages involved in king-making in the ancient world. Finally, Saul’s rejection as king makes sense as well, when we adopt the appropriate reading strategy for deducing the author’s intent. Saul’s rejection arises from his unwillingness to submit to the new authority structure of the theocracy, whereby the king must obey the word of the Lord mediated through God’s prophet (cf. 1 Sam. 12:13–15, 24–25).

 

On the structural level, Klement concentrates on the ending (2 Sam. 21–24), arguing that it is no “appendix” or miscellany but a carefully composed conclusion to the work as a whole. The conclusion provides the key to the grand, chiastic structure of the book and its basic theological message. Klement identifies other structural patterns throughout the book as evidence of a sophisticated and intentional artistic design.

 

The advantage of these recent approaches is that they support a final-form reading of the text that is not arbitrary but takes seriously the original literary integrity of the Samuel scroll. (In contrast, it must be remembered that DH is a scholarly postulate without any manuscript basis.) This allows the message of 1–2 Samuel to be heard on its own terms, and not just as an episode within a larger narrative.

 

Message of 1–2 Samuel

The two major themes of the work are monarchy and Yahweh’s word. The offices of king and prophet (along with the priesthood in its oracular activity) exist by God’s election and call (1 Sam. 2:28; 3:4; 10:24; 13:14; 2 Sam. 6:21; 7:8) for the protection and rule of his people.

 

On monarchy, Klement identifies the message at the center of the chiasm of 2 Sam. 21–24 (and thus the summative message of the book) as an affirmation of Yahweh’s covenant with David as an institution for Israel’s good. David utters the two poems in this section (2 Sam. 22:2–51; 23:1–7), which celebrate Yahweh’s “everlasting covenant” and “steadfast love to David and his descendants forever.” At its outset this work shows Israel to be afflicted both by the corrupt priesthood in Shiloh and the oppression of the Philistines. Yahweh acts to reverse the unhappy state of his people, first by answering Hannah’s prayer for a son. The birth of Samuel, the faithful prophet and kingmaker, sets in train the course of actions that will culminate in David’s kingship. Hannah’s song of thanksgiving (1 Sam. 2:1–10), with its prayer that Yahweh “will give strength to his king and exalt the horn of his anointed one,” has close verbal and thematic correspondences with the concluding poems. Thus, these two poetic sections function as chiastic bookends for the whole work.

 

Hannah’s prayer is fulfilled in the achievements of David’s reign at its best (2 Sam. 5–10; cf. 23:3–4), where he appears as the ideal ruler. Monarchy as such is not really faulted in the book (cf. Deut. 17:14–20). The issue turns rather on the type of king. Shall he be a figure of human political conceiving and choice (“a king for ourselves,” 1 Sam. 8:18–20; 12:19 NRSV), or one of Yahweh’s choice and for his purpose (“I have provided for myself a king [David],” 1 Sam. 16:1 NRSV)? Saul is rejected as king because of his failure in the fundamental matter of obedience to God’s word as mediated by his prophet Samuel. (A parallel theme to this is the rejection of the priestly family of Eli for dishonoring God; 1 Sam. 2:31.) With the departure of Yahweh’s spirit (1 Sam. 16:14), Saul declines into depression and madness. David, on the other hand, is presented as Yahweh’s chosen king, Spirit-endowed and Saul’s “better” (1 Sam. 13:14; 15:28; 16:13). Pious, brave, and innocent of treachery against Saul, David gains the throne through Yahweh’s choice and Israel’s willing assent (2 Sam. 5:1–3). He subjugates the neighboring states, thus securing “rest” for the people (2 Sam. 5:17–25; 8:1–14). David’s conquest of Jerusalem provides a capital for his kingdom and a final resting place for the ark of the covenant, uniting in one place the religious and political symbols of the nation (2 Sam. 5:6–14; 6:1–23).

 

In turn, Yahweh’s commitment to David extends to his descendants in the gracious promise of a secure and enduring dynasty and kingdom (2 Sam. 7:16; 23:5).

 

David thus appears as a worthier and more effective ruler than Saul, whose reign ends in apostasy and national disaster (1 Sam. 28, 31). The apogee of David’s obedient reign (and the sign of divine blessing upon it) is indicated in 2 Sam. 8:15–18, the brief note on his administration, and in 2 Sam. 9, his exemplary treatment of Mephibosheth. Overall, however, David’s reign has an ambiguous character. Blessing turns to curse in the following chapters, where David’s later disobedience and decline are candidly revealed, along with the destructive consequences these have, both for his family and for the nation (2 Sam. 11–20). Thus, David in his later years fails to realize the blessings promised to his own kingship. His rule is beneficial only insofar as he submits himself to Yahweh and his commands. The various intrigues involving a wayward David and his equally wayward sons indicate that politics (both sexual and power) posited on a calculating worldly wisdom leads only to disaster. Nevertheless, Yahweh’s covenant grace prevails. Unlike Saul, David himself is not rejected (cf. 1 Sam. 15:26), nor is Yahweh’s promise done away with.

 

The theme of Yahweh’s word is presented in two major ways. First, the narrative shows that Yahweh’s word, mediated by his prophets or the priestly oracle, determines the course of history, in declaring blessing or judgment. We are informed that early in this period “the word of Yahweh was rare” (1 Sam. 3:1 AT), but everything is changed for Israel by the time Samuel reaches adulthood (1 Sam. 3:19–4:1a). What Yahweh’s messengers declare will surely happen (cf. Deut. 18:21–22). Thus, Samuel first anoints Saul as “leader” (nagid) in obedience to Yahweh’s word, with confirming signs to follow (1 Sam. 9:16; 10:1–9), then David as his successor, again as Yahweh directs (1 Sam. 16:12, fulfilled in 2 Sam. 5:1–3). Through Nathan, David also receives the promise of a dynastic line and the assurance that his successor will build a temple (2 Sam. 7:11–16), matters whose fulfillment lies outside this book (1 Kings 2:12; ch. 6).

 

Conversely, the word of divine judgment is given in the declarations against Eli’s house and descendants and is fulfilled in subsequent events (1 Sam. 2:31–36; 3:11–14; cf. 4:11; 22:18–19); in the rejection of Saul (15:26, specifically for spurning Yahweh’s word, v. 23; cf. 31:6; 2 Sam. 6:21); and against David (2 Sam. 12:10–12; 24:13; cf. chs. 13–20; 24:15).

 

Second, Yahweh’s word is given to admonish and guide. Samuel reproaches the sinful people in Yahweh’s name (1 Sam. 8:10; 10:18–19), as well as giving specific instructions to Saul (9:27; 10:3–8; 15:2–3, 17–19). Nathan and Gad are also specifically sent by Yahweh to counsel David or rebuke him with God’s word (2 Sam. 7:4–5; 12:1; 24:11–12, 18), and David responds fittingly on each occasion. In addition, David inquires of God through the oracles given by Ahimelech and Abiathar (1 Sam. 22:10; 23:2, 4; 30:8; 2 Sam. 2:1; 5:19, 23), and enjoys success. By contrast, a disobedient Saul is denied a word from God and has recourse instead to necromancy (1 Sam. 28:6–7). In these ways, the book teaches that the exercise of kingship within Israel must be subject to Yahweh’s word.

 

Notwithstanding its final canonical location (within a history extending from Genesis to 2 Kings), 1–2 Samuel can be read on its own terms as a reflection of the early days of the Judahite monarchy (cf. 1 Sam. 27:6). The work holds up the Davidic covenant as the grounds for national and dynastic confidence, along with the necessity of royal obedience to the prophetic word. Hence, it perhaps sought to inculcate a similar response from the first descendants of David and his people, in the difficult days that followed the division of the kingdom (cf. 1 Kings 14:8).

 

1–2 Samuel and the Canon

The book has close connections with many other parts of the canon. First, whatever we make of Noth’s hypothesis (DH), 1–2 Samuel is the natural narrative bridge from Judg. 17–21, when “there was no king in Israel” (21:25 NRSV), to the history of the monarchy in 1–2 Kings. Kings also reflects many of the themes in Samuel, such as the fulfillment of the dynastic promise (cf. 1 Kings 2:4; 8:25; 9:4–5), Solomon as the appointed temple builder (5:5), and the backward look to David as the standard for evaluating his successors (3:14; 11:6, 38; 2 Kings 14:3; 15:3; 18:3; 22:2).

 

The closest canonical connection is with 1 Chron. 10–21, which is directly dependent on 1–2 Samuel in recounting the narratives of Saul and David. The Chronicler significantly recast and modified his sources, omitting most of the material on Saul and on David’s rise to power and subsequent family problems. The Chronicler’s chief interest here was to extol the public role of David as king and cofounder with Solomon of the Jerusalem cult. At the same time, David’s sinful census, with its disastrous consequences for Israel (2 Sam. 24) has a pivotal place in the Chronicler’s presentation (1 Chron. 21)—recognition that David could be a source of ill for the nation as well as good.

 

The presentation of David as musician and composer of psalms (1 Sam. 16:18, 23; 18:10; 2 Sam. 22:1–51; 23:1–7) was no doubt a fountainhead of the tradition that ascribes large parts of the Psalter to David (whether by or about him). The superscriptions on many of the psalms (3, 7, 18, 34, 51, 52, 54, 56, 57, 59, 60, 63, 142) associate these compositions with incidents in 1–2 Samuel and indicate how these psalms were anciently understood and related (perhaps midrashically) to David as the model worshipper of Yahweh.

 

1–2 Samuel and Theology

The historical development of messianism is especially dependent on this work. In its presentation of David and the Davidic covenant, the book provided the soil for later messianic hopes and conceptions. As Yahweh’s “anointed” (mashiakh, 1 Sam. 2:10; 2 Sam. 22:51; 23:1), David is elected and upheld by God for the blessing of his people. As the ideal king and recipient of the promise, David becomes the archetype of prophetic hopes for a successor in the troubled later centuries of Judah’s existence (Mic. 5:2–5; Isa. 11:1–2; Jer. 23:5; Ezek. 37:24). That trajectory continues throughout the NT in its expectation of a Messiah in David’s line (cf. Matt. 1:1; 21:9; Luke 1:32; John 7:42; Rom. 1:3; Rev. 5:5). However, the NT goes beyond comparisons, emphasizing that Jesus as Messiah also surpasses and contrasts with David, a great but flawed human being (cf. Acts 2:25–36).

 

Historically speaking, 1–2 Samuel has played a significant role in the articulation of political theology, especially in medieval and early modern reflection on the meaning of Christian kingship. In portraying the (Davidic) king as the representative and mediator of God’s own kingship, charged with securing the continued identity of the people through military leadership against external threats and by ensuring justice and right worship at home, 1–2 Samuel presents data on the political task with which Christians must constantly reckon. Yet the book is also skeptical (at least) about human kingship, which is not fundamental to Yahweh’s rule or Israel’s identity, and is sometimes inimical to these, especially when the prophetic word is spurned. Similarly, while no state today understands itself as a Christian theocracy, the exercise of political and judicial power must always be tempered by the church’s proclamation of the gospel (which centers on the present and coming kingship of Christ). Otherwise, the state will lose sight of its own identity and the concept of right that it exists to defend.

 

Bibliography