How to Read the Bible
James Kugel intends his book How to Read the Bible to be a guide to, and a tour through, the Hebrew Bible. With over eight hundred pages, the book showcases most of what professor Kugel knows about the Bible—and that is a lot! It was a little daunting for me to get through book as I found it almost impossible not to stop here and there to digest its content and to get better acquainted with some ancient interpreter, or conversant with a particular hypothesis of biblical scholarship. This is what the book does: it shows you how the Hebrew Bible was interpreted in the past by both Jews and Christians, and how biblical scholars understand the meaning of the same biblical texts today. Kugel also has a website dedicated to the book worth checking out. And, if you want to know how the book is being received by the public at large, you will probably appreciate the article by David Plotz in the New York Times entitled Reading Is Believing, or Not.
To understand why the “interpretation” of ancient interpreters and modern scholars are almost always divergent, it would be helpful to outline the assumptions that, according to Kugel, ancient interpreters brought to the text:
1) They assume that the Bible was a fundamentally cryptic text: that is, when it said A, often it might really mean B.
2) Interpreters also assumed that the Bible was a book of lessons directed to readers in their own day.
3) Interpreters also assumed that the Bible contained no contradictions or mistakes.
4) Lastly, they believe that the entire Bible is essentially a divinely given text, a book in which God speaks directly or through his prophets
The assumption that the Bible is essentially a divinely given text came last because Kugel did not want to give the impression that the other 3 assumptions were just a by-product of it (for example, there is no need to assume that a divinely given text be cryptic). Kugel’s lecture Can the Torah Make Its Peace with Modern Biblical Scholarship? is also helpful in showing the dynamics between tradition and biblical scholarship. In this particular lecture, delivered at the Jewish Theological Seminary, he talks about the reference in the Mishnah to Rosh Hashanah as the “day of judgment” which is not found anywhere in the Hebrew Bible. How this belief came about, and how it became an unquestioned tradition in the Jewish community shows that interpreters were doing much more than just reading the Bible. Kugel says that although the Jewish people are known as the people of the Book, a much better title would be “the people of the interpretation of the Book.” And, I would venture to say, this is no less true of Christians.
Let me show you an example of Kugel’s approach in the book. The passage is Numbers 20:2-13 which recounts the events at Kadesh where the people of Israel once more complained about the lack of resources, and God tells Moses to get water from a rock. At first glance, the account seems to be about a similar miracle as the one back at Meribah in Rephidim. But, what is puzzling about it is that Moses says “these are the waters of Meribah.” Of course, we could look at this assertion theologically and say that Moses is just using a metaphor; in other words, he might be just making an allusion to the waters at Meribah to remind the people that their lack of faith is the same even forty years later. But, how did the ancient interpreters handle this, especially when we keep in mind the four assumptions above? And there is one more thing: there had not been a word about the Israelites lacking water since the book of Exodus.
These observations led interpreters to assume that the best explanation was that the same rock at Meribah was the one we read about in the book of Numbers. This gave birth to the tradition of the traveling rock. Kugel gives us three examples:
Now He led His people out into the wilderness; for forty years He rained down for them bread from heaven [manna], and brought quail to them from the sea, and brought forth a well of water to follow them.
And it [the water] followed them in the wilderness forty years and went up to the mountains with them and went down into the plains.
Pseudo-Philo, Book of Biblical Antiquities 10:7; 11:15
I want you to know, brethren, that our fathers were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea, and all… drank the same spiritual drink. For they drank from the supernatural Rock which followed them, and the rock was Christ.
1 Cor. 10:1-4
And so, the well that was with Israel in the desert was like a rock the size of a large container, gushing upwards as if from a narrow-neck flask, going up with them to the mountains and going down with them to the valleys.
Tosefta Sukkah 3:11
This is not a satisfying solution to us as modern readers. And especially disturbing for Christians is Paul’s apparent allusion to such a tradition which he uses to make a point about Christ. G. K. Beale, for example, tries to refute Peter Enns’ contention that this tradition is what Paul had in mind by casting doubt on Pseudo-Philo’s textual integrity. Beale’s treatment of Pseudo-Philo seemed a bit strained, though, and I think it is because he had already decided that Paul would have never used an example from a tradition that is “obviously” the product of fertile imagination. (Some would argue that if the NT makes use of Second Temple traditions is because they were really true—but that’s another story). Although the Tosefta passage is not usually considered for its being a later text, it certainly witnesses that such a tradition was well established by the time it was written down. Of course, Kugel just assumes that Paul has this tradition in mind—why would he not?—and does not talk about what it means that people back then had such views.
Looking at how ancient interpreters dealt with the text is only the first step. Now we are ready to see what biblical scholars have to say about it.
The solution that biblical scholars put forth is quite simple but fraught with assumptions. Here is Kugel’s summary of the way they handle this passage:
“They [biblical scholars] note that, while the account of Moses striking the rock at Rephidim occurs in a section of the book of Exodus attributed to either J or E, the similar narrative in Numbers that locates the event at Kadesh is attributed to the source known as P. It would thus appear to scholars that this is another narrative doublet, comparable to the two versions of the flood story, attributed to J and P, or the two accounts of how Jacob’s name came to be changed to Israel, attributed to E and P. Here again, it would seem, a similar story was known to these two different sources, but in slightly different versions—E’s was associated with one geographic location and P’s with another. In the final editing of the Pentateuch, scholars say, both versions were allowed to survive; perhaps the fact that one came in the middle of Exodus while the other occurred two books later was enough to allow them to coexist in harmony” (240).
I think that to a lot of people there is a certain sense in which both solutions are not solutions at all. In order for you to consider their feasibility, you need to buy into the interpreters’ assumptions, both modern and ancient. (We haven’t talked about modern biblical scholars’ assumptions, but, for our purposes, it is enough to know that they do not adhere to the four assumptions above). However, many people are not happy with these polarities and think that a better way to approach the Hebrew Bible’s interpretation is warranted. In his Leviticus commentary, Baruch Levine says:
Generally speaking, critical inquiry is historically oriented in its search for ancient reality. It accepts the validity of comparative evidence derived from other, related societies and cultures. The traditionalist, on the other hand, is more interested in the message of Torah literature. Therefore, whereas the critical scholar seeks to reconstruct the literary processes involved in the composition of the Torah, to trace the actual historical development of Israelite religion and society, the traditionalist is more concerned with Torah literature as the central document of Judaism, the ultimate foundation upon which later Judaism rests.
The two approaches are not totally irreconcilable. Although traditionalists cannot accept much of what the critical scholar discovers because it may conflict with doctrine, they appreciate the critical scholar’s cultural insights on the meaning of the text. And the critical scholar can, indeed, learn much from traditional interpretations and insights, even if he does not share the overall presuppositions underlying traditional interpretations. (Levine, Leviticus, xxvi)
However, this is not Kugel’s conclusion. In his opinion, the two approaches above are irreconcilable. That’s basically because he says that biblical scholarship cannot speak to matters of faith. Perhaps his lecture above is the best summary of why he thinks so.
Regardless of how one thinks the relationship between ancient interpretation and modern scholarship is, this book is an indispensible resource for those interested in attempting to find an answer. For this reason, I highly recommend this book.
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Tags: Biblical Criticism, James Kugel, Midrash
