An Abstract of my doctoral thesis on Ps 24

The following is an abstract of my doctoral thesis on Ps 24 which Susan Gillingham has kindly offered to publish at the forthcoming Oxford Conference on the Psalms. It focusses on the exegetical dimension, leaving aside the hermeneutical and dogmatic parts of my doctorate. I'd appreciate feedback and questions (and bear in mind that the content of this blog is copyright):

My thesis is an attempt to read Ps 24 in the context of B.S. Childs' “canonical approach,” rightly understood. The first half outlines the coherence of his approach, which is not a method but a comprehensive construal of the particular nature of Israel's religious traditions that factors in the ontological reality its God. 


Turning to Ps 24, I argue that it is a poetically structured reworking of prior authoritative traditions with the goal of constraining future reception of those traditions, accomplished dialectically in the context of Israel's broader theological heritage, with the goal of witnessing to the true theological substance of that heritage. In particular, I argue that Ps 24 attempts to penetrate to the heart of God's ways in the world by drawing on Israel's core traditions of creation, Sinai/Zion, holy war, and the Davidic king and by subtly structuring their interrelations. 


The interpretive crux is the poetic juxtaposition of two portrayals of character: the obedient character of those who may access the fullness of creational life within the temple on Zion, accrued upon completion of the journey of pilgrimage, and the character of the author and guarantor of this life, the Lord, presented as a mighty warrior, about to enter into that very same location. The juxtaposition entails a subtle poetic movement of “actualization,” enacted within the protological/eschatological horizon of creation, whereby the Lord appears to accomplish what is only a possibility for Jacob. The significance of this juxtaposition, however, remains vague at the level of the Psalm alone. An account of Israel's cult along with a “theology of the Psalter” proves the paradigmatic centrality of Ps 24's themes to Biblical faith and strengthens the sense of their interconnectedness, yet it does not resolve the significance of their poetic presentation. 


A significant hermeneutical key is provided by the “canonical marker” לדוד, which asks us to read the Psalm in relation to the theological persona of David, a hermeneutical construct within the Psalter that takes its cue from the Book of Samuel. In Samuel we find that the context that constitutes David's identity mirrors the structure and content of Ps 24. On the one hand, David is an historically particular free agent who, out of love for God and Israel, acts on Israel's and his own behalf in obedience to torah in order to bring it and himself, through battle, to full creational blessing on Zion (2 Sam 6-8). On the other hand, David's story is embedded in a broader eschatological narrative in which David is a vehicle of the true agent of history, the Lord, who similarly acts in order to bring about his own purpose of divine communion with his righteous people in full creational blessing on Zion. As Ps 24 implies, God, through David, is the true subject of Israel's redemption in Zion, though not without its obedience. Given the persistent presence of disobedience, this fulfilment in time remains proleptic and the ancient cycle of Israel's struggle for life and divine judgement/redemption is perpetuated. This same dialectical pattern applies to the “David of the Psalter” whereby, on the one hand, “David” struggles for his own and Israel's life and witnesses to the Lord's intervention in judgement/salvation and, on the other hand, this cycle is situated within the ultimate context of divine reality. 


Ps 24's paradigmatic nature and hermeneutical function for Biblical faith becomes clearer when it is read as the frame and climax of the chiastically structured sub-collection of Pss 15-24. As part of the frame (Pss 15 and 19), it functions to set the remaining Psalms within the context of base realities: obedience to torah for the sake of creation. As the climax of the collection, understood as a series of intensifying parallelisms, it depicts the fulfilment of that reality with an arrival in Zion/new creation itself, albeit an arrival by the Lord with Jacob apparently in his train. 


A final clarification is provided by the Book of Isaiah, itself related to the Psalter, which deals with the persistent problem of Israel's disobedience by reconstituting it by means of the “Servant,” the “father” of 3^rd Isaiah's redeemed “servants.” Thus, similar to 2 Sam 7 and in line with the dialectic of Ps 24, the Lord's creation intentions come to fruition in Zion upon the entry of a newly constituted Jacob, created and led by the Lord. Like Ps 24, however, Isaiah closes with the Lord still poised before the gates, leaving the consummation of Israel's pilgrimage open to the future. 


Finally, in an attempt to clarify the Psalm's theological subject matter in its “economic” and “ontological” dimensions, this reading of Ps 24 is brought into dialogue with patristic and rabbinic exegesis, Jenson's Trinitarian metaphysic of heaven and Farrow's treatment of the Ascension

Third Isaiah, intertextutality, and history

In my post The Biblical canon and Biblical referentiality, I stated that, as far as Childs is concerned, the final form of the canon of Scripture is not a totally hermeneutically sealed unit, such that one can make sense of the parts without reference to extra-textual realities. He certainly credits the final form of the text with far more integrity than many of his colleagues, but nevertheless the meaning of this final form is contoured to a large degree by the particular manner in which it came to existence. This calls for a subtle form of exegesis, one which takes into account the different "levels of consciousness" present within the "final form."
"First, Third Isaiah remains a prophetic collection, both in form and content, which means there is an encounter with actual historical realities, albeit seen in the light of the divine. This dimension dare not be flattened simply into a type of learned scribal activity dealing exclusively with literary texts. Second, not every occurrence of a parallel [with Second or First Isaiah] can be assigned to an intentional reuse. A critical assessment must be made that reckons with the theological substance at stake beyond merely identifying formal parallelism discovered by the perusal of a concordance.1"

Childs' reference to the "theological substance" of the text here highlights another dimension of his concern to respect the historical nature of the text. Christianity claims that the Old Testament is a witness to a divine reality that was ultimately revealed in Christ. This was the concern of allegorical exegesis. Historical Criticism rightly retains this sense of extra-textual referentiality. Rejecting the constraints of the historical dimension and treating the text as a space for free-floating signifiers risks dampening its ability to point beyond itself the the reality that undergirds both past, present, and future.

1Childs, Isaiah, 462. S

How do Isaiah 31:4 and 5 cohere?

Isa 31:4 flatly contradicts Isa 31:5:

4. For thus the LORD said to me,

As a lion or a young lion growls over its prey,

and—when a band of shepherds is called out against it—

is not terrified by their shouting

or daunted at their noise,

so the LORD of hosts will come down

to fight upon Mount Zion and upon its hill.

5 Like birds hovering overhead, so the LORD of hosts

will protect Jerusalem;

he will protect and deliver it,

he will spare and rescue it.

The continuity between the verses is the issue of the Lord's relation to Jerusalem, yet the Lord himself is presented as having two contradictory postures.Verse 4 compares him to an attacking lion in a thoroughly hostile action, whereas v. 5 reverses his relation to Jerusalem by means of a simile of hovering birds that shield against danger. There is no warning in the text for the "jump," so how do we explain and interpret this odd juxtaposition? In his Isaiah commentary, Brevard Childs provides an answer which looks to the broader canonical context, factors the reality of God into the equation, and draws out theological implications:

the key to the tension is first given the parable in 28:23-29, which discloses the strangeness of God's purpose with Israel. This theme is then developed further in both chapters 29 and 30, and continued in chapter 31. The major point is that the Isaianic message does not consist of a tension between pessimistic and optimistic opinions of the prophet, or between competing redactional construals or earlier and later periods. Such a developmental trajectory renders an understanding of the true dimensions of the text virtually impossible. Rather, the issue is a complex theological one that emerged already in the prologue of the book (1:2-3). How is such a lack of understanding of God by Israel possible? Increasingly in the reflective style of the sage, chapters 28-33 focus on the folly of Israel in rejecting the merciful intervention of God, which can only result in utter destruction. Yet from the disclosure of God's revelation of his purpose in creation, there remains an unswerving hope of salvation that is fully incomprehensible to human sinfulness, blinded as it is in folly and arrogance. The prophet does not offer a systematic theological tractate, but a profound struggle with a continuing encounter with God that resonate through the entire corpus as a consistent witness. Israel's judgment and Israel's redemption cohere in God's purpose even when it often appears mysterious and incomprehensible to human logic. [*]

[*] Childs, Isaiah, 233-234.

The historical Isaiah and the canonical process

In my last few posts dealing with Childs' approach to exegesis, I have tried to illustrate that the question of authorship is important to Childs, despite what his critics claim. Admittedly, the author and his intentions are of relative importance to the meaning of the canonical (i.e. editorially enriched) form of the text. The final form has acquired an integrity of its own over against its prior stages. Nevertheless, it is of paramount importance to the validity of Childs' canonical approach that the final form of the text stands in some kind of theological continuity with what went before. It is a theological Fortschreibung, not an ideological Umschreibung. You can see his concern for this kind of continuity in his treatment of the relation between the historical Isaiah and the book that bears his name (though see also my thread Retrospective Reading of Old Testament Prophets):

Thus, there was a historical Isaiah whose preaching has been preserved in the document bearing his name. Childs references the work of H. G. M. Williamson, who claims that nearly all the parts of chapter 1 are derived from a prior written form of the words of Isaiah himself.¹ Though he finds the theory speculative, Childs judges that it is helpful in showing the high level of continuity of chapter 1 with the preaching of Isaiah.² Again, the historical prophet preached in oracles of various genres, such as accusation, invective, torah instruction, trial summons, dirge, and promise.³ These oral proclamations were collected into literary compilations which developed as the oracles were added. Within the larger narrative framework of the prophet's proclamation, clear components emerged, namely God's plan for Israel's judgement, signs of a promised faithful remnant, and the ultimate judgement of Assyria. These components were repeated and reinforced throughout chapters 1—12 within a constantly recurring pattern, even when the relationship remained often fragmentary. Again, these elements existed at the primary level of the tradition, though they appeared in strikingly different ways in the collection (cf. the exegesis of, e.g., chapters 1, 6, 7). Their development, then, was a matter of dialectic. On the one hand, faithful editors responded to the oracles, which were a major force in determining the shape of the larger composition.⁴ On the other hand, these expansions and additional commentary emerged within the context of interpreting new communal experiences, a process called Fortschreibung (editorial expansion). This process of expansion and enrichment had an end point with the establishment of a stabilized form.⁵

Isaiah 33 reflects a similar case. This chapter consists of very different liturgical forms which have been shaped into a unified presentation of Isaiah's vision of the future after the threat from the great enemy has been overcome. Childs is no longer as confident as he was in his Exodus commentary about our ability to reconstruct the Sitz im Leben of these forms. In his opinion, Gunkel's cultic theories are at best a brilliant piece of speculation.⁶ He is more confident, however, about our ability to perceive the work of the editors who have reshaped these forms into a literary composition. In short, the classic Isaianic pattern outlined above has been represented by an intertextual reuse of prior prophetic and psalmnic tradition. These traditions have been joined into a holistic interpretation with events taken from Israel's continuing experience with God. In the context of the narrative sequence of chapters 28-32, earlier Isaianic oracles are reused to reinterpret the events leading up to the attack on Jerusalem during the reign of King Hezekiah.⁷ Childs concludes from this that the context for interpretation should be the text's synchronic setting within the book,⁸ though this conclusion is a derivative of the intentionality of the editors and the new genre of the text (Spiegeltext)⁹ rather than an appeal to postmodern epistemology.

1H.G.M. Williamson, “Relocating Isaiah 1:2-9,” in Writing and Reading the Scroll of Isaiah (ed. C.C. Broyles and C. Evans; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1997), 263-277.

2Childs, Isaiah, 16.

3In contrast to the majority of interpreters, Childs believes that promise oracles were part of the original message. Cf. Childs, Isaiah, 215: “There is no compelling evidence to suggest that only the message of judgement was primary and that the element of promise was always secondary from a later redaction.”

4Childs, Isaiah, 215.

5Childs, Isaiah, 216.

6H. Gunkel, “Jesaia 33, eine prophetische Liturgie,” Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 42 (1924), 177-208.

7Childs, Isaiah, 245.

8Childs, Isaiah, 246.

9The phrase is Beuken's, in “Jesaja 33 als Spiegeltext im Jesajabuch,” Ephemerides theologicae lovanienses 67 (1991), 5-35. Childs claims that Beuken's theory rivals Gunkel's in its significance.

A "canonical" translation of Isaiah 1:2?

How do you translate the qatal verbs in Isaiah 1:2?

שִׁמְעוּ שָׁמַיִם וְהַאֲזִינִי אֶרֶץ כִּי יהוה דִּבֵּר בָּנִים גִּדַּלְתִּי וְרוֹמַמְתִּי וְהֵם פָּשְׁעוּ בִ

I would follow all the standard translations and go for the past tense (has spoken). An offline interlocuter, however, has suggested that we translate them in the present (Yhwh speaks, I raise up, they sin against me). Here's his reasoning:

If you read just the opening verses of Isaiah your preference for a past tense makes sense. But I am working with a reading of the entire scroll of Isaiah that sees the pattern of divine good - rebellion - punishment, and each stage in it, as occurring at many times and not just at this one time. Two points are relevant. One, a translation of a given passage in any biblical book depends on one's understanding of that whole book and the place of that passage in it; it is not solely a matter of the forms and syntax of the passage itself. Two, the Hebrew text - verbs, nouns, etc. - can often support a range of meaning but a translator into English has to choose only one part of that range. Both "YHWH has spoken" and "speaks" and "I reared" and "I rear" are possible depending on one's focus on just these verses or on the larger scroll.

From what I can see, this would be an attempt at "canonical translation," a translation that attempts the communicate the substance of the entire scroll by means of its parts.

I do agree that there is an effort at typologizing in Isaiah's scroll. I recently read Brevard Childs' commentary on Isaiah, which made the same point. He also made another point, however, which would lead me to want to retain the past tense translation, even though I agree with the pattern my dialogue partner discerns. Here's my logic:

The pattern in Isaiah is of a certain kind, i.e. it is typological, which means that that one object (e.g. Assyria) is placed within a larger scheme and associated with another object (e.g. Babylon), so that the two distinct entities become types of a larger, single reality (e.g. human hubris). The literary technique of juxtaposition and intertextual linkaging operates on the principle that entities diverse in space and time (Assyria and Babylon) are really just pictures, types, of a single reality. They are juxtaposed on the basis of their ontological unity, they point beyond themselves to something more general. In this case, my friend's desire to translate Isaiah one in the present simple tense is correct, as this tense points to a general, repeated action. Perhaps we could say that his translation gets to the substance of the message of Isaiah as a whole.

However, what is equally as important as the substance of Isaiah's message is the means by which the book communicates it. It doesn't do this by flattening out the concrete entities, by swallowing them up into a schematized drama. Rather, Assyria and Babylon are retained in the historical, geographical particularity. It is only through the literary technique of juxtaposition that the reader is invited to discover the unity that undergirds them. In other words, the unity of the message must be sought through the particularity of the parts and not despite them. On this view, the historical particularity of Isaiah 1:2 ought to be maintained by means of past tense translation, even if the translator wishes his reader to grasp the singular message of the whole. There is a path the attentive, theologically minded reader has to tread, and it is through finite particularity to the universal. This would seem to be the way the book of Isaiah itself wishes to communicate its message.

I invite all and sundry to critique me!

A brief response to Niccacci on verbs in Hebrew poetry, with an illustration from Isaiah.

I briefly introduced Niccacci's theory on the translation of Hebrew verbs in Hebrew poetry in my post Translating a qatal/yiqtol sequence in Psalm 24:2 (drawing on Niccacci). I was recently contacted by someone offline who kindly shared the following brief response to Niccacci's article[*], along with his own illustration from Isaiah. With his permission, I share it here in the hopes that others will add their views.

I finally read Niccacci's article. I think his basic motive for the study is solid: we need to take the different verbal forms in Hebrew seriously and not just translate as we want, usually putting them in the same English tense. This was a clear reminder to me to pay such attention and not gloss over issues in translation.

I think he gets himself in some trouble when he says that initial yiqtol is always volitive and then has to invoke ellipses and double-duty modifiers to explain the instances where it clearly isn't volitive. This usage need further investigation. His comments on the use of qatal are solid as far as they go. I think he limits himself by maintaining that qatal is past in the sense that it should always be translated with an English past tense. As he notes (p. 266) qatal is for the narrative-punctual. This can be rendered with an English past tense (preterite or perfect) but also with an English present tense understanding that the focus is on the aspect and not the time of the action.

Isaiah is my field of focus for Hebrew poetry and I offer one example for the latter point. (I haven't and I don't know of anyone who's investigated the possibility of significant differences in Hebrew poetry between Psalms and prophets.)

Isaiah opens with the call for heavens and earth to hear ky YHWH dibber. The closing verb can be translated "has said" or "says;" I think that the Hebrew supports both and the issue is with a translation since we have to choose one in English; against Niccacci I don't think that it always has to be an English past. My squabble with him is more about possible translations than with his comments on the Hebrew itself. I often translate Isa 1:2 with "says," not in the sense that YHWH is now saying this but that this is what YHWH says as a matter or course, as a type of characteristic: YHWH says or speaks past, present and future. What he says in the 2nd half of v 2 uses 3 qatal forms and can be translated with past or present forms: "reared, brought up and rebelled" or "rear, bring up and rebel." The latter again not in the sense that YHWH is now doing this but this is what he does - past, present and future - with the inevitable result that the sons rebel. V 3 also uses 3 qatal forms and most, if not every, translation employs English present: "knows, doesn't know, doesn't understand."

[*] A. Niccacci. "The Biblical Hebrew Verbal System in Poetry" in Biblical Hebrew in Its Northwest Semitic Setting: Typological and Historical Perspectives (Eisenbrauns, 2006).

A dialogue on Childs

It's not often that I get an dialogue partner who understands Childs' work as well as Brad of bradandgeo. He recently wrote an interesting critique of certain points in my post Some critiques of Childs (in that place made by another competant reader of Childs, John Lyons of Reception of the Bible). I've taken time to respond, and think the exchange is worth its own post. But do read Brad's entire post in the comments section here!

His comments are in italics, my response below:

it ... seems that his exegesis never quite lives up to what is expected based on his methodological work.

I totally agree with you, and I think he knew that himself. He was a pioneer, cautiously, very cautiously, trying to spy out the promised land from the wilderness, not wanting to forget all the lessons that have been learnt along the way. To that end, I think his exegesis often has the feeling of one pushing forward in a direction, yearning to get there, but not wanting to betray the route that is set out for us. He kind of says this in the intro to his book Struggle:

I have recently finished a technical, modern commentary on the book of Isaiah. The task of treating the entire book of sixty-six chapters was enormous, but in addition, the commentary had necessitated restricting the scope of the exposition. That entailed omitting the history of interpretation and relegating many important hermeneutical problems to the periphery of the exegesis. After the commentary had been completed, I was painfully aware that many of the central theological and hermeneutical questions in which I was most interested had not been adequately addressed” (emaphsis mine).

The scope of Isaiah is one reason why he couldn't go as deep as in Exodus (both commentaries are roughly the same size), but as I said: I think he was incredibly cautious and wanted to restrain himself from “rushing to the referent.” My doctoral thesis is an attempt to do what you are looking for (and which Childs himself has done in a haphazard manner), and make the move from text to referent and back again (on Psalm 24).

[rather than recommend his Isaiah commentary, I think it is better] to see what he does with exodus

Agreed, this is the best model for a commentary and it is the one I will follow.

Concerning the Isaiah commentary, I agree with you that he focusses a lot more on the text than the substance, but I think for various legitimate reasons. One is the reason of caution given above; another belongs to the genre of "commentary." Though I think Childs would ultimately like to get to the allegorical intensity of Luther or Augustine, he wants to do it through intensive exegesis, and it is the role of a commentary to prioritise the literal rather than the spiritual sense. And I would call his redactional analyses “throat clearing” only in the positive sense of the phrase … Close analysis of the text always precedes talk of its substance, at least in a commentary. There are places where his diachronic analysis has direct repercussions on his perception of the substance. See his critique of certain redaction-critical trends in Isaiah studies on p. 462:

First, Third Isaiah remains a prophetic collection, both in form and content, which means there is an encounter with actual historical realities, albeit seen in the light of the divine. This dimension dare not be flattened simply into a type of learned scribal activity dealing exclusively with literary texts. Second, not every occurrence of a parallel can be assigned to an intentional reuse. A critical assessment must be made that reckons with the theological substance at stake beyond merely identifying formal parallelism discovered by the perusal of a concordance.

It's these kinds of nuanced insights and his constant straining to hold everything in correct proportion, always in light of the text's res (which figures more, I think, than in Exodus), which makes his commentary so exciting for me. But it certainly isn't a commentary to end all commentaries. It's a call to persevere on a journey in a certain direction!

This [focus on redactional issues] was frustrating, not least because at that stage in his career you would think we could have taken some of those arguments as read.

My impression is that his balancing act between diachrony (Westermann) and synchrony (Beuken) was quite unique, and so by no means read. Perhaps I've not read enough other commentaries …

i know he says we need to take the compositional history seriously alongside of the canonical shape, but he also states that those issues will only take you so far. so why give them so much space?

I asked myself this. I had the feeling it was more like light shining through the cracks then standing in front of a text turned transparency to the divine (a metaphor he used for Barth's exegesis). But then I think the reasons I gave above account for this, along with his comments in Struggle …

what sets this commentary apart from other offerings on isaiah?

I think I've answered this: his straining to keep balance and proportionality in light of the text's subject matter, given its genre as canonical scripture.

if, as you claim, childs's exegesis is consistently misread and not adequately understood, how so?

Not his exegesis. In fact that's the remarkable thing, I'm not sure his exegesis is read that much at all. Otherwise, people wouldn't make the comments they do about him advocating a hermetically sealed, self-referential canon (e.g. Barr). When they do, they usually act bemused and call him schizophrenic because they can't see how theory and practice fit together.

his volume on the history of interpretation i thought was much better, and actually dealt with more of the substantive issues of understanding and reading isaiah than the commentary did.

Well, again, I think it belongs to the genre of such a book that the move to the referent is easier, especially when the bulk of exegesis was ecclesial. See his comments in the intro to Exodus! Ideally things wouldn't be so divided, but that's the way things are.

it seems to me a bit of a double standard to say that childs's work was not a method, was not methodologically programmatic for others, but then for childs (and some of his followers) to be constantly upset at what passes for 'canonical' interpretation.

I'm not sure I get your point here. Why can't people's approach be critiqued too? For example, regardless of the soundness of G. Steins' philosophical theories concerning Bakhtinian intertextuality and their applicability to interpretation, Childs still critiqued his proposal and exegesis for not taking into account the theological nature of Christian-scriptural referentiality (i.e. allegorical and not midrashic). I'm not sure allegory is a method … it's a stance within a community guided by a rule of truth (regula veritatis).

if what he wanted to do was, as you say, 'articulate the hermeneutical implications of a certain stance vis-à-vis the text', it seems to leave the door quite open regarding what the use of those 'hermeneutical implications' might look like.

The door swings on a hinge, but there is still a hinge on which it turns, and so there is room for diversity (Childs appreciated an extraordinarily diverse range of interpreters, ranging from Augustine to von Rad!) as well as critique (again, applied by Childs to a diverse ranger of interpreters).

The decontextualisation of prophecy: "Second Isaiah"

Having looked at how Amos and Hosea were actualized in order to function as Scripture, we turn to Isaiah 40-55:

3) A collection of prophetic material has been detached from its original historical moorings and subordinated to a new theological context. The classic example of this canonical move is so-called "Second-Isaiah." Critical scholarship has made out a convincing case for dating chapters 40—55 (some scholars include the remaining chapters of the book as well ) to the period of the Babylonian exile. Yet in their present canonical position these chapters have been consciously loosened from their original setting and placed within the context of the eighth century prophet, Isaiah of Jerusalem. Moreover, the original historical background of the exilic prophet has been drained of its historical particularity— Cyrus has become a theological construct almost indistinguishable from Abraham (cf. Rissane)—and the prophetic message has been rendered suitable for use by later generations by transmitting it as a purely eschatological word.

Childs on Jesus and Isaiah 53

Childs' Isaiah commentary can be a dense work. It's a distillate of everything he's written over his career, packed into the restricted dimensions of a single volume Isaiah commentary. Today I read his thoughts on "The Suffering Servant and Christian Theology" (422, 3) and was again challenged to rethink some of the basic assumption I bring to both the Old and New Testaments. Here are his thoughts, what do you think?

The theological category used for [the] interpretation [of Isaiah 53 in the NT] was not primarily that of prophecy and fulfillment. Rather, an analogy was drawn between the redemptive activity of the Isaianic servant and the passion and death of Jesus Christ. The relation was understood "ontologically," that is to say, in terms of its substance, its theological reality. To use classic Christian theological terminology, the distinction is between the "economic" Trinity, God's revelation in the continuum of Israel's history, and the "immanent" Trinity, the ontological manifestation of the triune deity in its eternality. Thus, for example, the epistles of Ephesians and Colossians argue that the creation of the universe cannot be understood apart from the active participation of jesus Christ (C0l. 1:15ff). Or again, the book of Revelation speaks of "the lamb slain before the foundation of the world" (13:8). In a word, in the suffering and death of the servant of Second Isaiah, the self-same divine reality of Jesus Christ was made manifest. The meaning of the Old Testament servant was thus understood theologically in terms of the one divine reality disclosed in Jesus Christ. The morphological fit between Isaiah 53 and the passion of Jesus continues to bear testimony to the common subject matter within the one divine economy. Of course, in a broad sense, isaiah 53 does continue to function as prophecy since the chapter is bracketed within the eschatological framework of an unfolding divine economy.

To summarize, the servant of Isaiah is linked dogmatically to Jesus Christ primarily in terms of its ontology, that is, its substance, and is not simply a future promise of the Old Testament awaiting its New Testament fulfillment. It is significant to observe that in Acts 8, when the eunuch asked about the identity of the Isaianic servant, Philip did not simply identify him with Jesus of Nazareth. Rather, beginning with the scriptures, "he preached to him the good news of Jesus." The suffering servant retains its theological significance within the Christian canon because it is inextricably linked in substance with the gospel of Jesus Christ, who is and always has been the ground of God's salvation of Israel and the world (423).

The nature of Biblical prophecy?

In his commentary on Isaiah, Childs notes the trouble chapter 46 has caused interpreters. The fall of Babylon through Cyrus in 539 did not follow historically the predictions of Isaiah. The great city was not levelled, nor were the Babylonian gods dishonored and replaced. A traditional response, which works on a theory of direct historical referentiality, claimed that the events must be directed to the later conquest by Xerxes. Redaction critics, on the other hand, attempt to isolate later literary levels that developed in an attempt to actualize the original prophecy, especially in the light of its failure to materialize as predicted.

Childs rejects both approaches and claims we need to do justice to "the unique nature of a prophetic proclamation" (361). But just what is this nature? I quote part of his answer below. It's dense and challenging. I'd appreciate feedback on his claims, either in the form of an explanation, a challenge or an affirmation of his point.

Biblical prophecy is not simply a description of a coming historical event made in advance, shortly to be visible to all. Rather, Isaianic prophecy interprets the effects of God's entrance into human history. It embraces a different dimension of reality, which only in part coheres with empirical history. The eschatological appeal of God's rule involves a vision of divine intervention that indeed enters human history, but is not exhausted by any one moment. The quality of God's salvific presence is not limited to one specific event in time and space, but embraces the whole of God's announced purpose for creation, which moves toward consummation. The nature of correspondence between word and event can only be measured in terms of this ongoing divine plan toward ultimate restoration of God's creation. Prophecy thus speaks of a quality of future event. It is not a clairvoyant projection of the events within the unredeemed experience of human history (362).

These comments should be compared to related ones by Jörg Jeremias. Check out too the article by Ronald Clements on the subject of prophecy and fulfillment. I hope to post on this at some point in more detail.

Update: See Wilhelm Vischer's take on the issue, which sounds close to Childs.

My Research Proposal

I thought it's about time I shared what it is I will be doing for the next few years. The following is the thesis proposal I have submitted to the academic board. If there are any major problems, it'll be good to discover them now, so please feel free to criticize!

In Christian Theology it was traditionally held that God is the ultimate author of the Scriptures of Old and New Testament, and that these contain the Word of truth calling for the “obedience of faith” (Childs, 2004: 300). How that has been interpreted and expressed has varied greatly. Nevertheless, as a confession of faith it has consistently hovered on the horizon of those particular scholars who feel drawn to relate their exegetical work to the ongoing life of the Church.

The greatest challenge to this theocentric focus on scripture came from the Enlightenment. Philosophical rationalism and newer critical analyses of the Bible called into question the divine authorship of the Bible and succeeded in alienating the text from contemporary experience. Nevertheless, commitment to the authority of the Bible continued, with the newer historical-critical methods being put to use by confessional scholars determined to hear the Word of God for their generation. Childs documents, for example, how confessional German scholarship in the period 1920-1940 strove to build a biblical theology on the foundations of historical critical methodology (1994). However, the conclusion of his analysis is that approaches which base theological exegesis on such a critically reconstructed foundation lead to a compromise with the ideological assumptions of modernity and thus compromise the capacity of the Bible to testify to God.

Childs has responded to the challenges of both the Enlightenment and the Church with his own approach to biblical exegesis, termed the 'canonical approach'. He attempts to bridge the diachronic and synchronic dimensions of the text by looking at the history of Israel's “religious use” of its traditions. This usage involved a variety of moves on the part of the tradents of the traditions, such as the intertwining of sources, the juxtaposing of disparate material, and the setting of boundaries. This long process was completed with the fixing of the final form.

Throughout this diverse process, Childs detects the continuity of a kerygmatic intentionality, the desire to witness to the one reality of God. This kerygmatic intentionality is understood by Childs to mean that what was of significance to the tradents, and thus for us, is the reality to which these traditions point and not the traditions themselves as products of their times. As such, interpretation which seeks to be theocentric should focus on the “effect” which the aforementioned process has had on the reworked text. The reworked text, as an objective given, has an integrity in which meaning at the synchronic level is different to the meaning of the parts when diachronically reconstructed. It is primarily here that the faithful interpreter can perceive most fully the true theological subject matter that undergirds the entirety of the Bible.

Childs insists that the 'canonical approach' is not a research method. Rather it sets up a telos (knowledge of God) and describes the nature and function of the Bible as a means to attaining that. Nevertheless, a canonical approach sets specific boundaries within which the theological dimension of the text should become visible. C. Seitz has adopted to a large extent Childs' approach, developing its theological and theoretical basis and working out its exegetical implications. In particular, he works out the hermeneutical implications of the election of Israel and adoption of the Gentiles, the nature of Old Testament “accordance” with the life of Christ, and the significance of figurative interpretation.

Childs' and Seitz's canonical interpretation may be illustrated by considering their understanding of the Immanuel prophecy in Isaiah 7:1-25. A canonical approach to this text begins with the recognition of its diachronic depth dimension. Nevertheless, the hermeneutical question turns on how this dimension relates synchronically to the text's final form. This entails not only identifying the various redactional layers, but looking at the quality of the relationship between them. The canonical tradents faithfully interpreted earlier traditions and then shaped these traditions in such a way that they would broker that message within a broader historical and theological perspective (Seitz, 1993: 4). The original identity of Immanuel, for example, has frustrated historical critics: is he a son of Isaiah, a son of Ahaz, children in Jerusalem, a future messianic king? Despite the obscurity of this figure, even at the level of the final form read as a unity, later tradents, who themselves submitted to the 'coercion' of these traditions, have embedded clues to guide our interpretation of the figure's 'canonical identity'. This identity includes both a historical and an eschatological referent. Thus within the broader literary context, both within this sub-unit (chs. 7-9) as well as across broader swathes (chs. 7-9 contrasted with 36-39), it would seem that Immanuel is initially identified with Hezekiah, the ideal king whose deeds enable the Lord to demonstrate what 'Immanu-el' (God-is-with-us) means. Yet the primary identity of the figure has not been fully eradicated in the final form. Interest in Hezekiah is theological, not nostalgic, in that he is made a type for later kings to follow (a connection made through the addition of ch. 11:1-9). The king has been reinterpreted – but not so severely that the original historical referent is lost. “What kingship shall become in Israel, and for the nations, it becomes with reference to the Immanuel child and the historical rule of Hezekiah” (Seitz 1993: 75).

My project will consist of two phases. First, I will critically evaluate the canonical approach as developed by Childs and Seitz. This will require a thorough knowledge of their theoretical and exegetical work, analysed in conjunction with both the relevant background literature (von Campenhausen, Frei, Barth, von Rad), as well as responses by contemporary scholars (Barton, Barr, Sheppard, Steins). Given the ambitiousness of Childs' approach, it is not surprising that he has been attacked from both the left and the right ends of the theological spectrum. Criticisms include an apparent double referentiality in his work, one for theology and one for history, the denigration of the findings of historical criticism, contrived harmonization, prejudicial 'dogmatic' predisposition, unjustified focus on the final form, and so forth. It would seem that many problems stem from an inadequate understanding of Childs' approach, particularly his understanding of the text as primarily a witness to a reality outside of itself. Both Childs and Seitz have responded to these criticisms. My task will be to evaluate the soundness of such criticisms as well as the soundness of the response, with particular sensitivity to the possibility that the dialogue partners may be talking past each other.

I will then apply these theoretical insights to Psalms 15 and 24 in order to understand their theological significance. While a certain kinship has often been recognised between these Psalms due to their common inquiry into the identity of 'the righteous' (H.-J. Kraus, Craigie), Hossfeld and Zenger have done much to highlight the canonical context of the Psalms within Book One of the Psalter. Within the the literary framework of the edited Psalter, these Psalms now function as the corner pieces of a 'Davidic' sub-collection, itself one of four sub-collections making up the first book of the Psalter. Intertextual connections between the Psalms in this sub-collection function to alter the semantic content of Psalm 15 and 24.

Hossfeld and Zenger's exegesis, though extremely useful for canonical exegesis, is not identifiable with Childs' canonical approach. For Hossfeld and Zenger, the meaning of the text is tied to its possible function among groups of post-exilic redactors. As such, it is arguable that that their exegesis does not live up to the 'theocentric' demands of a canonical approach. P. Miller has attempted to go beyond this historicising approach and reflect on the implications of this arrangement for theological interpretation. Working in terms of the intertextual 'framework' uncovered by Hossfeld and Zenger, he notes the centrality of Torah, kingship, prayer and the rule of Yahweh. In another article, Zenger discusses the significance of the Davidic superscriptions and the hermeneutical implications of reading these Psalms in the context of the narratives found in the book of Samuel.

Both structural groundwork and theological reflection have been provided in the work of these scholars. My intention is to critically analyse and develop this work, following the intertextual threads present in the canonical shape of these Psalms and interpreting their theological significance.

Methodology:

The 'canonical approach' can be seen as a stance vis-à-vis the Bible with hermeneutical implications. Though not in itself a method, its assumptions and goals are more readily displayed and achieved by some methodologies than by others. This being so, the methodologies to be used will vary according to the results of the theoretical section of the thesis. However, it is clear from the research carried out so far that, among the methodologies current in biblical studies, redaction criticism, form criticism, and contemporary literary approaches are likely to be of most relevance. The hermeneutical issues involved in typological, allegorical and Christological readings of texts will also be addressed.

Criteria of Prophetic Truth

After a break of a few days, I return to my summary of Childs' article, "Retrospective Reading of the Old Testament Prophets" (1996). For previous posts in this thread, read the following: 1, 2, and 3.

Because what Childs has to say here is so concise, succinct and important, I'm simply quoting it in full. Of all that Childs has written, this is one of his most illuminating articles!

"The prophetic understanding of truth is not determined by conceptual consistency. This prophetic message is not transmitted in the form of theological tractates nor of philosophical ruminations about abstract moral ideals. Rather, the prophets bear witness to a divine reality by which they have been constrained. Their response is not always logically structured and often a divine encounter is only indirectly perceived. The prophet communicates the divine will for Israel and for the nations in a great variety of different forms, styles, and images. Often the content is too awe-inspiring for conceptual clarity and its ad hoc articulations appear fragmentary, visceral, and partial. Frequently the subject matter runs roughshod over temporal and logical categories, and the editors link together events of similar qualities of time according to their substance. This move accounts for the consistently theocentric orientation of the prophets. Little attention is paid to the psychological state of the messenger, nor to the modern concern over the nature of the filtering process by human tradents. Rather, prophetic truth is measured by what rightly conforms to its divine subject matter and evokes a faithful response from its recipients (Isa 8:11ff).

The implications from this biblical perspective is that too much weight cannot be assigned to the logical inconsistencies or to conceptual tensions within a given passage as a means by which to reconstruct unified literary redactions. Because the nature of prophetic speech was to reflect an encounter with the reality of God, an analysis of a prophetic oracle as if it were simply a freely composed literary construct does not do justice to the material. Careful attention to the function of metaphors in rendering reality is usually more indicative of the prophetic meaning than the coherence of larger literary structures.

Again to assume that meaning can only be rightly determined when it is firmly located within a conceptually evolving trajectory rests on a questionable semantic foundation. Because the prophetic writings were soon treasured as authoritative Scripture, textual expansion occurred in the process of continual usage not toward the goal of correcting concepts deemed false - a concept quite unthinkable in Judaism - but in order to elucidate and confirm for its hearers the truth of a prophetic message which it was assumed to possess." (1996: 374-375).

Temporal Sequence and Prophetic Dialectic

After summarizing the various proposals for the nature of the extension of prophetic literature, along with a critique of these proposals, Childs offers his positive alternative. This is where things start to get interesting! (Note - most of what follows is simply citation, a paraphrase would divest Childs' words of their intrinsic juiciness).

Childs, in good historical-critical (and traditional theological!) fashion affirms the historical conditionality and particularity of the prophetic message: "the prophets were not proclaimers of eternal truths within a timeless context." (1996: 373).

However, within this real history - "the year that King Uzziah died" - there is the entrance of another history and another time. The nature of God's rule which had been revealed to Isaiah obtained long before the death of Uzziah. The whole world is filled with God's glory and has always been. When within the book of Isaiah passages of salvation and judgment are juxtaposed (2:2-5 / 6 - 22), this structure certainly reflects a late redactional ordering. However, the theology expressed in this juxtaposition is already deeply embedded in the earlier tradition. Isa. 2:2ff. offers an eschatological vision of God's coming rule which picks up a variety of ancient motifs. The brittle quality of the present literary structure only confirms the basic theological point that eschatological history, that is God's time, cannot be smoothly combined with empirical history, nor can the two be cleanly separated. The subtlety of the book of Isaiah turns on the dialectical relationship of this interaction. What seems to be a political threat to Judah from the Assyrians suddenly becomes the entrance of an eschatological divine judgment.

The hermeneutical point is that for Isaiah history is understood in the light of prophecy, not prophecy in the light of history. In contrast to the aforementioned critical proposals (here and here), prophetic eschatology is not an unmediated derivative of empirical history, but of a different order of divine intervention which is only dialectically related to temporal sequence (-sorry, but that makes my mouth just water). Reconstructed political history cannot supply the source of Isaiah' eschatological hope nor provide the explanation for textual extensions which rather reflect the ongoing experiences of Israel with God mediated through Scripture. An interpretation which flattens this distinctive, dialectical approach to history can only result in serious exegetical reductionism.

'Immanuel' in a Canonical Perspective

How can a canonical approach help us to understand the identity of Immanuel in Isaiah 7:14?

A canonical approach begins with the recognition of the diachronic depth dimension to the text. Nevertheless, the hermeneutical question turns on how this dimension relates synchronically to the text's final form. This entails not only identifying the various redactional layers, but looking at the quality of the relationship between them. Childs and Seitz, for example, argue that the canonical tradents faithfully interpreted earlier traditions and then shaped these traditions in such a way that they would broker that message within a broader historical and theological perspective (Seitz, 1993: 4). The original identity of Immanuel, for example, has frustrated historical critics: is he a son of Isaiah, a son of Ahaz, children in Jerusalem, a future messianic king? Even at the level of the final form read as a unity, the identity of this figure has remained mysterious. Nevertheless, later tradents of the ancient tradition, who themselves submitted to the 'coercion' of this word, have embedded clues to guide our interpretation of the figure's 'canonical identity'. This identity includes both a historical and an eschatological dimension. Thus within the broader literary context, both within this sub-unit (chs. 7-9) as well as across broader swathes (chs. 7-9 contrasted with 36-39), it would seem that Immanuel is initially identified with Hezekiah, the ideal king who's deeds enable the Lord to demonstrate what 'Immanu-el' (God-is-with-us) means. Yet the mysteriousness of the figure has not been fully eradicated in the final form. Interest in Hezekiah is theological, not nostalgic or memorializing. What Hezekiah is as king, how he conducts himself, becomes a type for later kings to follow. This is ensured by the conjunction of the royal Immanuel traditions with the vision of future messianic rule in ch. 11:1-9. The former has been reinterpreted by the latter - but no so severely that the original historical referent is lost.“What kingship shall become in Israel, and for the nations, it becomes with reference to the Immanuel child and the historical rule of Hezekiah. Out of that historical matrix a model for kingship emerges that is filled full in the person of Jesus ... .” (75).

Seitz sums up:

"... the messianic role that Jesus fulfills is not an eternal "type" with no earthly referent. The church confesses that out of the messiness of earthly government, specifically rooted in the house of David, God prepares a place for his son to rule as King. That Jesus explodes all mundane aspects of kingship is itself no unprecedented. Israel's own vision of kingship, and from time to time its own historical kings, prepared the church to see in Jesus a king like no other, yet like what Israel longed for and at times experienced a foretaste of in kings like Hezekiah." (73)