Biblical Studies Carnival 45…
…is up and running: links to many great Bible-related blog posts from the last month. Come and get it at the Golden Rule.
You can find lots—I mean lots—of Bible-related blogs on the latest Biblioblog Top 50 list.
…is up and running: links to many great Bible-related blog posts from the last month. Come and get it at the Golden Rule.
You can find lots—I mean lots—of Bible-related blogs on the latest Biblioblog Top 50 list.
It’s a call for papers!
The Mid-Atlantic Region of the Society of Biblical Literature will have their annual meeting March 11-12, 2010, in New Brunswick NJ.
Any member of SBL may propose a paper, regardless of their region.
That’s not even all the good news: the annual meeting will include a plenary address by Benjamin Sommer, professor in Bible and Ancient Semitic Languages at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America. Dr. Kenton Sparks (Biblical Studies, Eastern University) will give the presidential address.
Among the collaborative projects I’m assigning my introductory students this fall is blogging. (They’ll also participate in a course wiki, and do in-class collaborative work). Blogging will be mandatory, and graded. Besides a rubric for the assignment, I also wish to give them suggestions about academic blogging: what makes blogging appropriate for biblical studies and for an introductory course in Hebrew Bible?
This is my first draft. What suggestions can you offer for improvement?
Suggestions for Beginning Blogging in Biblical Studies. There is overlap between these suggestions, and the divisions are somewhat artificial. But, for the student who is still trying to learn to keep her writing within the bounds of “biblical studies,” they offer some guidelines to help stay on track.
Debunking dishonest Bible-woo is tiresome (but not hard: this post took me less than 75 minutes from conception to Publish), but has to be done. Let's be clear: the maker of this video starts with the conclusion he wishes to reach (that the President is the “antichrist” [whatever that is, which is a topic for another day]). He then commits whatever sleight-of-hand and misdirection is necessary to work backward from that conclusion to an impressive-sounding biblical basis. We'll link the video, then take it step by step.
[Update, 2011/01/18: the original poster has removed the video. You can still find a version of it here, with some attempts at bolstering the video’s claims.]
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXMAnlMmEPw]
“I will report the facts.” Nearly of these “facts” are false:
“Jesus spoke these words originally in Aramaic…” This is not known. It may be that Jesus preached both in Aramaic and in the Greek of the New Testament. If he did preach in Aramaic, there is no reason to be optimistic about our ability to retrovert the Greek of the gospels into that alleged Aramaic original. Imagine giving an English translation of Don Qixote to twelve English-speaking scholars who had never heard Spanish spoken by a native, and having them all retrovert the English translation to the original Spanish. Know how many completely different “originals” you’d get? That’s right: twelve.
“…which is the oldest form of Hebrew.” No, it isn’t. Aramaic doesn’t precede Hebrew. They are sibling languages, with significant differences in vocabulary, morphology, and grammar. So, speaking in Hebrew is not “much the same way” as the way Jesus would have spoken Aramaic.
“…from the heights, or from the heavens.” Nice try: the speaker has substituted “heights” (in order to get to bamah, the word he wants to use) for “heavens” (shamayim, a word he wants to get away from because shamayim sounds nothing like “Barack Obama”). The argument from this point is not based on Jesus’ words (in any language), but on a paraphrase that the speaker finds convenient.
(We could stop here: Now that we see that the groundwork comprises crippling falsehoods, it is clear that anything built on it is pointless. We’ll continue anyway, just for the exercise.)
“…from Strong’s Hebrew Dictionary.” As Bryan mentioned on Facebook, When someone grounds their argument in the use of Strong’s concordance/dictionary, they are saying, “I do not know any Hebrew. Do not trust anything I say on the topic.” Strong’s is a tool designed for people who do not know Hebrew.
Baraq is the Hebrew word for lightning: this is a fact. It has nothing to do with the name of our President, but baraq does mean “lightning.” Barack, our President’s name, is Swahili, and related to Hebrew Berekh, “to bless.” (Think of the better known form, Barukh, “blessed.”) In other words, why would a speaker of Hebrew (or Aramaic, or Greek) would use the word “lightning” to evoke the Swahili (or Arabic) name, Barak = “blessed/blessing”?
Isaiah 14: No mention of Satan here: Isaiah is plainly talking about the king of Babylon, whom he compares to the mythic “Daystar, son of Dawn.” He says so [ref. added: Isa 14:4]. But, the Jesus of the gospel Luke may be evoking Isaiah when he says that he “saw Satan falling as lightning from the heavens,” so I’ll give this a pass.
Isa 14:14: “I will ascend above the heights of the clouds.” That’s right: the word “heights” (which, you’ll recall, Jesus does not use anyway) is not associated with the falling of the Daystar, but with his (planned but not certainly achieved) ascent. Also, the “heights” are plural: the phrase is bamotê-ʿab, “the heights of the cloud.” Hear it? Not bamah, but bamotê.
“Some scholars use the O [to transliterate the conjunction waw].” No, they don’t, because it is never, never pronounced “O.” The prefixed conjunction we- or wa- becomes u- in biblical Hebrew when it precedes a bilabial consonant (b, m, p) or any consonant followed by the shewa, or half vowel (Cĕ-; think of the first vowel in a casual pronunciation of “America” or “aloof”). It is never o-. Sorry, but never.
“…or, ‘lightning from the heights.’” Okay, in the second place, the conjunction never means “from.” Hebrew (or Aramaic) has a preposition for that. The phrase baraq u-bamah (not o-bamah) will mean, “lightning and a height” (whatever the heck that is; also remember that baraq has nothing to do with “Barack”). The phrase will never, never mean “lightning from the heights.” Sorry, but never. (And in the first place, remember, Jesus never even said, “lightning from the heights.” He said, “lightning from the heavens,” which is why all this stuff about “heights” is pointless.)
Conclusion: if a Jewish rabbi today, influenced by Isaiah, were to say the words of Jesus in Luke 10:18 (seriously: why would our rabbi do this?), he would not say, “Barakh Obama.” He would not even say, baraq u-bama. Or baraq u-bamoth (lightning and heights). If he means to use Jesus’ words, he would not even say, baraq min-habbamoth (lightning from the heights). I suppose he might (might) say, baraq min-hashamayim (lightning from the heavens). So now you know why our secret Muslim president’s Arabic Kenyan birth certificate remains hidden in a clandestine madrassah in the Lincoln Bedroom: because on it, you will indeed find the true name of the antichrist…
(oh, wait, neither Isaiah, Luke, or even Revelation [or Daniel, if you care] use the word “antichrist”: it is used in the letters of John as a generic term for “unbelievers”)
…Baraq Min-Hashamayim.
If you want to see some other debunking, go see Mark Chu-Carroll at Good Math Bad Math, Michael Heiser at PaleoBabble, Bryan at Hevel, and James McGrath at Exploring Our Matrix. Each of them adds some additional arguments that I don't make here.
(Btw, you will have heard it elsewhere already, but Biblical Studies Carnival 44 has erected its tents and opened for admission over at Jim West’s place.)
Every now and then, in order to keep a post under a thousand words or so, I’ve thrown out a promise to flesh some idea out more fully in the future. Here, I’m going back to try to list some of those outstanding promises.
Daniel and Tonya had the terrific idea of compiling a list of bloggers presenting at the annual meeting of the SBL (Society of Biblical Literature). The meeting is always the weekend before Thanksgiving (U.S.), and takes place this year in New Orleans. Thanks for this resource!
Speaking of SBL, there have been occasional rumblings of an SBL Tweet-up for Tweeple who, well, go to SBL. To my knowledge, it is still at the “let’s keep in touch on this” stage. I recently revived the hashtag #SBLTweetup, so keep an eye on that tag and we’ll see what develops. Me, I think the most logical venue is Jim West’s hotel room. :^) (Jim, I’m probably with you on Twitter in the pews, if only because thumb-typing while crossing yourself sounds ludicrous and even dangerous.)
[Later: I should add that, confusingly, the initialism “SBL” is already used on Twitter for “Spam Block List” and some other things that I don’t know what they are.]
It’s never too soon to get amped about a long weekend of…well, why reveal our society’s hidden mysteries? Come to New Orleans and see what there is to get amped about.
You can get the history on this meme from Chris Heard. John Anderson asks which seven biblioblogs we actually read most often (so, not necessarily favorites). I point out that the question is complicated by the fact that not everybody posts at the same rate. It is also complicated by the fact that I follow a lot of darned blogs. So, these are the seven that, if I’ve got 185 unread posts in my NetVibes feed and not enough time to really catch up, I make sure to read these.
Others Chris saved (from having to produce a point-by-point refutation to Jacobovici’s migraine-inducing woo-fest); himself he could not save!
Pete Bekins (בלשנות Balshanut) has provisionally completed—in only about one month’s time—an eight-part teaching and learning series on “A Discourse Approach to the BH Verbal System.”
The series does not have its own unique tag, though a Wordpress search for Pete’s tag “Semitic Verbal System” gets you the series and lots of other Balshanut posts in that larger vein. So, I link here each of the posts, for anybody who missed some or who would like to start from the beginning.
Looks like Kevin is the one who got the ball rolling on this meme. DanielandTonya, while kindly stopping by to see my “Five Books or Scholars” post, invited my response to this one. [Whups: also tagged by Adam.] I like the idea, I just wish it were easier to narrow things down. As before, Duane’s Caveat applies: this is the list you get today. Ask me tomorrow, you’ll likely get a whole different list (like one with Sinuhe in it!).
Ugaritic Baʿlu cycle (with Bryan): the characterization and activity of Baʿl and ʾEl just wonderfully illuminate many (most?) of the ways that the God of Israel is represented throughout the Hebrew Bible in his several hats (warrior, fertility god, judge, lawgiver, king, god of the father). What is more, the several conflicts of the monarchic period—temple or tent; dynastic succession or prophetic legitimation; centralized authority or local control—all are better understood in the light of this material.
Zakkur and Mesha inscriptions: yeah, I’m cheating by lumping some favorites into pairs. I put these together because they both show in Israel’s neighbors the belief that the king or people has a special relationship with the god, and that the god intervenes decisively in history on behalf of the king or people. The devotee of Baalshamayn and Chemosh, as much as that of YHWH, experiences the protective love of the god for the god’s own people.
Hammurapi: both for the prologue and the laws. I love how the prologue illuminates elements of the royal theology: that the god takes the king by the hand, and the human king imitates the divine king by protecting the weak from the strong, the poor from the rich. (You also get this about Marduk in Enuma Elish, right?) And of course the laws continue to raise excellent questions about the genre of the biblical law codes, particularly about their setting and function.
Jubilees, 1 Enoch 1–36: overlap with Jim here. Who can help but love these early co-readers of the Bible? Like us, they read with care the details of the biblical text at hand (like Gen 5:24; or Gen 6:1-4; or Gen 22), and like us, they found themselves saying, “Now, what the…?”
Kuntillet Ajrud and Khirbet el-Qom: again I’m with Bryan here. Whether Asherah is imagined as a consort of YHWH or no, the symbol is associated with eighth-century goddess worship that likely descends contiguously from that known from earlier iconography.
Have you not yet been tagged on this meme? You have now.
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Remember to nominate posts for the next Biblical Studies Carnival.
Have you saved any bookmarks this month at Delicious or Diigo, in your browser Bookmarks, or in a clippings folder? Been moved to comment somewhere? If a June post anywhere has gotten you thinking, then nominate it for the carnival so others can get down on it as well.
Instructions for submitting posts are at Tyler’s site. Here is the most recent carnival so you can see what one looks like.
A short while back, I asked who you would include in a list of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament scholars who are women. In most cases, readers’ comments concerned the scholar’s landmark contributions to the field. In some cases, a choice was rooted more in the personal experience that a reader has had of a colleague, mentor, or teacher.
I began to annotate the list, but that not only got out of hand (=showed my ignorance), it also became all too controlling and editorial. So instead, I offer one link per figure: a faculty page or Wikipedia where possible, an Amazon or similar page where necessary: whatever is ready to hand that offers some starting information.
(Why do schools’ web sites hide their faculty pages so cleverly? Why do so many faculty lack a web page altogether, being relegated instead to cluttered, pointless, hyperlink-less lists? Why do so many academic sites bubble with enthusiasm for events that are “coming up” in 2006?)
Anyway: If you are aware of a better link for any of these folks, speak up in a comment and I’ll make additions.
You know what my favorite thing is about blogs? Comments. By which I mean, “commenters.” A comment thread is sometimes no more than a string of unconnected exclamations or diatribes, but at best, the comments to a blog post take a genuinely interactive course and add some serious value to even the best of posts. When authors devote the same kind of care to their comments as they would to their own blog posts, sure, they add value to their own name, or “brand,” since they often (but not always) are linked to their own blogs or profiles. But more, they add value to the posts to which they comment, unpaid and (outside of the small circles who do this “web” “log” thing), unacknowledged.
I woke up this morning to belatedly discover a short exchange on DeWette, a biblical source critic who preceded the better-known Julius Wellhausen. Kevin Edgecomb finds himself rightly appalled at the anti-Judaic biases that have animated Protestant biblical scholarship, especially early source criticism. Briefly, his commenters judge that, while Kevin is correct in discerning bias, he has not made his case that a) DeWette’s source-critical conclusions lack evidentiary support, and that b) later biblical scholars have uncritically preserved DeWette’s (or Wellhausen’s) conclusions and ignored the anti-Judaic biases with which those scholars approached the biblical evidence. Doug Mangum has posted a response and a follow-up.
On the one hand, Kevin is doing exactly what he should be doing: reading the early source critics with a hermeneutic of suspicion (self-link). How do their arguments and conclusions reflect their anti-Judaic (and for that matter, anti-Roman Catholic, anti-ritual) biases? How does the rhetoric of their arguments and conclusions seek to reproduce those biases in the reader? Terribly important questions, these.
On the other hand, I’d argue that Kevin’s initial post dismisses DeWette’s conclusions without addressing his use of evidence and line of reasoning. Doug brought up the “intentional fallacy,” and I would further specify the fallacy of “poisoning the well”: the fallacious idea is that, once DeWette has been brought into (deserved or undeserved) ill repute, we can just assume that his arguments are inconsequential. Finally, Kevin makes the rather sweeping claim that later biblical source criticism has willfully ignored the plain biases in the work of its predecessors. In other words, he argues that while he reads DeWette with a hermeneutic of suspicion, biblical scholars on the whole (who agree with DeWette on dating the core of Deuteronomy to the 7th century) have not done so.
I call attention to the comments to these three posts, because they represent the kind of conversation typical of strong scholars concerning this procedural issue. How do we acknowledge the biases of our forebears (once recognized as such) while still engaging in our continuing work their use of evidence and their lines of reasoning?
It is essential that we model “best practices” in this regard, because our own students and their students will learn from our example and read us accordingly when our own biases, invisible to us, come to be recognized. On the matter of bias and evidence, as on any matter, as we comment, in such a mode can we look forward to being commented on.
What women would you include in a list of major figures in the study of the Hebrew Bible/Old Testament? In particular, who are among the movers and shakers: critical scholars whose work must be taken into consideration by anyone approaching their subject matter?
I invite you to be as subjective and idiosyncratic as you like in your proposals. Nobody has to defend their choices, though by all means describe your reasons as you like.
I ask because I am drafting up some reading lists to use as a resource for designing some courses and for revising courses I already teach. I don’t want to limit myself to the women scholars toward whom I already habitually gravitate.
For obvious cultural reasons, we tend to tick off the major turning points in biblical studies according to men's names: Wellhausen, Gunkel, Noth, von Rad, Muilenburg. From that point, it has been easier (relatively speaking!) for women’s work to be published and to receive regard. As much as possible, I would like to get names from a broad range of periods and approaches.
Taking the study of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament as a whole—old names and new, from every aspect of critical biblical study—what women would you include in a list provisionally titled, “Women biblical scholars with whose work you really must be in conversation, if I am to take seriously your treatment of texts”?
Time is almost up to suggest entries for the May 2009 Biblical Studies Carnival, to be hosted at Ketuvim. See the carnival’s home page to learn how to submit an entry; additional options for submissions by the host himself.
The most recent Teaching Carnival, at Bethany Nowviskie, is already eleven days old. The roughly semiweekly Teaching Carnival involves blogs about higher education (there are other carnivals for K–6 or K–12). I have read the Teaching Carnivals for a couple of years now, and continue to learn (and laugh) at a rate of about a ton per carnival.
John Hobbins wrote up a translation and some commentary on a Hebrew poem by Shimshon Meltzer. When I tried to comment, TypePad declined to accept my data. Presumably, I had too darned many tags in my comment, what with my endless italicizing of stressed syllables. So, I am posting my comment here and linking to it over at John’s.
John, thanks for including the notes on rhythm. The default 4-3 line is like half of a ballad stanza (“There are strange things done in the midnight sun / by the men who moil for gold”). Those first four lines use it consistently to “get things rolling.” The occasional 3-4 lines first create a sense of suspense by failing to deliver the fourth beat in a half-line (your translation preserves this well: “Adam and his wife, sinners—”) then compensate and close with the four-beat finale (“Nahash the deceiver, piercing curse”).
Wonderful that the poet first makes that rhythmic break at the narrative point where the young students (just freshened in their naivete by the exercise: line three) first read for themselves of Adam and Eve’s sin.
It would be fun to experiment in English accentual poetry using this scheme.
The world’s smallest Hebrew Bible will be given to Pope Benedict XVI by Israeli President Shimon Perez.
I had reported earlier on the Hebrew Bible, which is etched onto the gold face of a silicon chip that is one half of a millimeter square.
The news came as a surprise to elementary Hebrew students worldwide, who had assumed that their 5.5"×7.5" BHS already used the most miniscule type modern science could produce.
Biblical Studies Carnival 41 will be hosted by James McGrath at Exploring Our Matrix. James offers instructions for nominating posts to be included in the carnival. Tyler Williams had also posted instructions.
It’s a piece of cake, so if you feel the urge, take a look at posts from April in biblical studies that you have bookmarked, or Delicious’d, or Diigo’d, or Digg’d, and get them some exposure in the Carnival so the rest of us can sink our teeth into them, too.
See the homepage of the Biblical Studies Carnival for more information and links to the meaty current carnival and also to previous carnivals.
Bryan Bibb posted recently on Ben Witherington’s review article of Bart Ehrman’s latest book, Jesus, Interrupted. I have not closely followed Ehrman or conversations about his work, but Witherington’s review gripped my imagination, because he brought the “Ehrman conversation” into the context of some of the essential critical questions that animate biblical studies. I am interested in his words on the “hermeneutic of suspicion,” a mode of reading in which the reader remains warily alert to the text’s worldview with its peculiar heirarchies and how the text at hand will 1) reflect and reinforce that worldview, silencing and marginalizing other voices with their concerns, and also 2) seek through its rhetorical devices to reproduce in the reader that worldview and its heirarchies. (The phrase “hermeneutic of suspicion” is Ricoeur’s but the definition mine, expressed in terms of ideological criticism). Witherington writes in part:
to actually understand an ancient author you must start by giving them the benefit of the doubt and hear them out, doing one’s best to enter creatively into their own world and thought processes before understanding can come to pass. To approach the text with a hermeneutic of suspicion is to poison the well of inquiry before one even samples the water in the old well.