Month: August 2012

Are All the Books of the Bible Historical?

Is everything in the Bible historical? What do the teachings of Jesus reveal?

Everything in the Bible is historical in the sense that it was written in historical times. The Bible is a small library of literature that was written over the course of about 1,000 years–a period that ended nearly 2,000 years ago. So the biblical books are historical documents in that sense.

But what about the content of the biblical books? If you open up the Bible to a random passage, does that mean what you are reading is automatically history?

An Obvious No

In one sense, the answer is an obvious no. Not all books in Scripture are trying to recount historical events.

The Gospels are. The Acts of the Apostles is. Many books of the Old Testament are. But relating history is not the purpose of other books.

For example: the epistles of St. Paul or the epistles of James, Peter, John, and Jude. These are concerned with building people’s faith, but they aren’t narratives. They don’t tell the story of what happened in a particular period in history the way that Matthew, Acts, or 1 Kings does.

We can learn certain historical facts from them, but these historical items are things mentioned in passing, not the principal purpose of the epistles.

Similarly, in the Old Testament we find books like Psalms, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes. These also may make passing references that are of value to historians, but they aren’t intended to tell us the story of particular historical periods.

What About Prophecy?

What about the prophetical books? Don’t these tell us about history?

Yes, but they also are not straightforward historical texts.

The book of Revelation contains information about both the beginning and the end of Church history, and so it relates to history in a definite way.

The Old Testament prophetical books contain material that relates to the events of their own day, to times soon after, to the time of Christ, and to the end of the world, so they also relate to history.

But they convey this material in advance and through symbols. That makes them different than straightforward historical records.

The Example of the Gospels

Consider just the Gospels. These books are historical in the sense that they relate what Jesus did during his earthly ministry. But they also contain Jesus’ teachings. While these were given at a certain point in history, they aren’t about history. Jesus was not serving as a history professor. The content of his teachings deal with God and our relationship with him.

Consider in particular Jesus’ parables. These are lessons that communicate theological truths in an allegorical way.

When Jesus says, “A man left on a journey,” or “A sower went out to sow,” or “There was a man who had two sons,” he is not intending to tell us about about particular historical events. It would be a mistake, when told about the man with two sons, to ask, “What were their names?”

Instead, Jesus is using allegory told in the form of a story to reveal a spiritual truth. The parables thus show us something very significant . . .

A Story Is Not Enough

The fact we are reading a story in the Bible does not automatically mean that we are reading history.

Jesus’ parables contain stories with beginnings, middles, and ends, but Jesus is not intending to tell us about a specific historical event that really happened.

That means that when we read a story in the Bible, we must examine it to see whether it is meant to be a historical account or something else. We must look to the cues it gives the audience to signal what kind of account it is.

Taking Your Cues from the Text

It is notable that, in his parables, Jesus almost never names anyone involved in the story. (The only exception is Lazarus in the parable of Lazarus and the Rich Man.) Instead, he leaves the principal figures anonymous: a king, a master, a son, a servant.

That is one of the conventions Jesus uses to tell us that what we are reading is a parable rather than a historical narrative. But this is not the only way that the Bible signals something other than history.

Another signal is obvious symbolism. If you open the Bible to certain prophetic passages, you will find passages in describing monsters–dragons, wild beasts that combine the features of different animals, things with many heads.

This kind of obvious symbolism can also serve as an indicator that what you are reading isn’t straightforward history but something else.

Subtler Cases

Jesus’ parables and the prophetic texts are obvious cases that contain cues which even people today, raised in a totally different culture, can pick up on. But there are texts in the Bible that use cues subtle enough that it is easy for people today to miss them.

Consider this: Suppose we took the parable of the Prodigal Son and gave names to the characters. Suppose we added the name of the village where they lived–a real village. Suppose we even said the year in which the events took place (according to the ancient way of reckoning years). What would we make of the story then?

We might well conclude that Jesus was telling us about an actual historical event.

There might be cues in the tales that would signal their allegorical nature, but in the absence of the familiar cues of nameless characters in a nameless place at a nameless time, we might mistake what we were reading for straightforward history.

So here’s something interesting to think about: If, within the Gospels, Jesus told short allegories that could be taken as historical accounts if a few details were supplied, could God inspire an entire book–not just part of a book–that is an allegory? Could he even supply names, dates, and places, trusting the ancient audience to recognize the allegorical nature of the text where we might miss it?

And not just could God do this, but has God done this?

John Paul II was of the opinion that he has.

John Paul II on Allegorical Books of the Bible

He didn’t give an exhaustive list of allegorical books (many would put the book of Job into that category), but in 1985 John Paul II gave a brief review of the books of the Old Testament in which he stated:

The Books of Tobit, Judith, and Esther, although dealing with the history of the Chosen People, have the character of allegorical and moral narrative rather than history properly so called [General Audience, May 8, 1985].

Why would he say this?

Tobit, Judith, and Esther all contain named figures–some of whom are known to history. They mention real places. And they refer to datable events. So why would he say they are allegorical rather than history proper? What cues in the text would reveal that?

In coming posts, we’ll take a look at that, and it will give us a chance to learn some interesting things about the Bible.

In the meantime, though, allow me to mention . . .

Pope Benedict’s Recommended Reading

Would you like a book recommendation from the pope?

Like many of us, Pope Benedict takes a vacation in the summer to rest, recuperate, and catch up on projects.

Like the rest of us, he finds himself looking for things he can profitably read during this time.

So does Pope Benedict have any thoughts about what people might profitably read during this time?

He does.

That’s why I’ve prepared a special “interview” with Pope Benedict on just this subject that I’ll be sending to members of the Secret Information Club on Saturday, August 18th.

To find out what Pope Benedict recommends for summer reading (and it’s not big heavy theological works but stuff anybody can read–sometimes in an hour or less), sign up at www.SecretInfoClub.com or use this handy form:

Why Do the First Books of the Bible Have Those Strange Names?

Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deutonomy: Why the Strange Names?

The names of the first five books of the Bible sound rather strange: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy.

What do these names mean, and where do they come from?

Genesis

The name Genesis is easier for us to understand, but for a rather ironic reason.

Everybody knows that the book of Genesis is about the beginning. It starts with the beginning of the world, it goes on to describe the beginning of God’s people, Israel, and along the way it describes a lot of other beginnings as well.

Thus it’s no surprise that the name of the book has become a metaphor for beginnings. As a result, we might today speak of the genesis of modern science, the genesis of the Civil War, or the genesis of the Internet. In each case the word genesis is used to refer to the beginning of the thing in question, and most people perceive this as a metaphor based on the name of the book of Genesis.

The word genesis comes into Enlglish through the Latin Vulgate translation of the Bible, and the Vulgate got it from the Greek translation of the Old Testament known as the Septuagint.

The irony is that in Greek the word genesis actually means “beginning.” So it originally meant beginning, became the name of a biblical book, and is now perceived by many people as a metaphor for “beginning,” based on the name of that book.

Why is the book called Genesis in Greek? Is it just because the book deals with beginnings or is there more to it?

Actually, there is a bit more: In Hebrew–the langauge in which the book was originally written–it is known as B’r’shit.

B– is a preposition in Hebrew that means “in.” R’shit means “beginning.” So the book in Hebrew takes its name from its opening words, commonly translated in English as “In the beginning . . . ” (Gen. 1:1a).

Exodus

This is another case where we get the book title from the Latin Vulgate, which took it from the Greek Septuagint, though the ending of the word changes a bit. It’s Exodus in Latin but Exodos in Greek (this is normal when a word is brought from Greek into Latin).

In English, the word exodus basically means “departure,” “journey away from,” or “emmigration.”

The Greek term is derived from two Greek words: the preposition ek, which means “out” or “from,” and hodos, which means “road.”

An exodos thus means taking the road out, or just going out, and in the book of Exodus, the children of Israel go out of the land of Egypt under Moses. That’s why it has the Greek name it does.

This has nothing to do with its Hebrew name, though. In Hebrew, it is called Sh’mot, which means “Names.”

As before, that’s a reference to the opening of the book in Hebrew: “These are the names of the sons of Israel who came to Egypt with Jacob, each with his household” (Exodus 1:1).

Leviticus

This is another Greek to Latin to English special. In Greek, it’s Leuitikos, which gives us the Latin and English Leviticus.

So what does it mean?

It’s based on the Greek word for “Levites” (Leuites), which refers to members of the priestly tribe of Levi.

All told, Leuitikos means “relating to the Levites” or “concerning the Levites,” and it is this book that contains most detailed regulations regarding what the priests and other Levites are supposed to do in the conduct of their ministry. In fact, the first seven chapters are detailed regulations about how to offer sacrifices.

In Hebrew the name of the book is Va-yiqra (“And he called”), from the opening words: “And he (the LORD) called Moses” (Leviticus 1:1).

Numbers

At last! A book with a straight-forward English name!

“Numbers” is an English translation of the Latin name: Numeri (“Numbers”), which is a translation of the Greek name Arithmoi (same root as “arithmetic”).

So we all know what numbers are, which makes the name of this book easy to understand, right?

Not so much.

Despite what you’d think, this book does not have a lot to do with mathematics.

Instead of being used in its standard, familiar sense, the term “numbers” is being used in a somewhat specialized one that might be better rendered “numberings.”

The reason is that at the beginning and the end of the book, they take a census (a counting, a numbering) of the children of Israel. There are two censuses in the book, so it’s the book of numberings, or Numbers.

As before, the Hebrew name is based on the first words of the book. It’s B’midbar, which means “In the desert” (note the same “b-” preposition as in B’r’shit).

The opening verse reads: “The LORD spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai” (Numbers 1:1).

Deuteronomy

Although Genesis, Exodus, and Numbers have names that are or have passed into English as familiar words, Leviticus and Deteronomy don’t. We’ve already seen what Leviticus means, but what on earth does Deuteronomy mean?

Once more, we’re getting it from Latin (Deuteronomium) from Greek (Deuteronomion).

It comes from two Greek words meaning second (deuteros) and law (nomos).

It’s called that because in Deuteronomy Moses delivers the law to the children of Israel for the second time (not just the Ten Commandments, but a much broader body of rules and regulations).

The generation that originally received the Law ended up dying in the wilderness, and now that their children are about to go into the Promised Land, and thus complete the exodus from Egypt begun several books ago, Moses sums up for them (with some variations) the teaching God has given in the interim. Hence, a second giving of the Law.

The Hebrew title is Devarim (“Words”), from the opening words in Hebrew: “These are the words that Moses spoke to all Israel beyond the Jordan in the wilderness” (Deuteronomy 1:1a).

Learning More

He has interesting things to say on the Book of Revelation
I’m currently writing a book–titled Secret History of the Bible–which will go into this kind of information and more, revealing fascinating facts that bear on how, when, and by whom the Bible was written.

That’s not out yet, though, so until then you might want to check out my Secret Information Club. In fact, if you join then the very first think you’ll get is an “interview” with Pope Benedict about the book of Revelation. (I composed questions and then took the answers from his writings.) It’s fascinating reading, so I hope you’ll check it out.

You should click here to learn more or sign up using this form:

Why Don’t We Call Moses and Elijah “Saint”?

If Moses and Elijah were present in the Transfiguration, why don't we call them saints?

Recently I received the question: “Why don’t we call Moses and Elijah ‘Saint'”?

In other words: Why aren’t they referred to as St. Moses and St. Elijah?

Evidence for Sainthood

After all, we have it on pretty good authority that they are holy and in heaven.

Both Old and New Testament attest to the holiness of both individuals. We have a clear indication that Elijah was taken directly into heaven, without dying, and while Moses did die, there’s no serious doubt about his making it to heaven (at least after heaven was generally opened to the righteous of the Old Testament).

Most impressively, both Moses and Elijah get to appear with Jesus in the Transfiguration.

That’s kind of a giveaway.

So why don’t we call them saints?

Old Testament Saints in General

A basic answer would be that we tend not to use the honorific “Saint” for human beings who lived in the Old Testament period.

We do use it for angels we read about in the Old Testament–St. Michael, St. Gabriel, St. Raphael–but not human beings.

That is probably just an artifact of how the term “Saint” evolved. Originally it was an adjective, meaning “holy” (Latin, sanctus). People started prefixing it to the names of notably holy individuals (holy Peter, holy Paul), and eventually it came to be used as an honorific–like “Mister” or “Doctor” (thus St. Peter, St. Paul).

But for whatever reason, people tended not to do this for Old Testament figures.

Perhaps this was because holy figures of the Old Testament were thought to already be sufficiently hallowed by their inclusion in Scripture–although that would not explain why the apostles and other New Testament figures got the title “Saint.”

More likely, Old Testament figures were seen as less directly relevant as examples to Christians, because they lived before the Christian age. Those living in the Christian age, like the apostles and later saints, are more like us and thus more direct examples for us in a certain sense.

However that may be, Old Testament figures were generally not called “Saint.”

But sometimes they were. . . .

Meet St. Moses and St. Elijah

The Latin Church maintains an official list of saints and blesseds known as the Roman Martyrology, and it actually lists some humans from the Old Testament, including Moses and Elijah.

Here is part of the entry for September 4:

On Mount Nebo, in the land of Moab, [was the death of] the holy lawgiver and prophet Moses.

And here is part of the entry for July 20:

On Mount Carmel, [was the departure of] the holy prophet Elijah.

Latin or English?

The Roman Martyrology, of course, is in Latin, and the translation offered above is accomodated to standard English usage, which avoids using “Saint” for Moses and Elijah. The Latin original is a bit different.

Here is  the Latin for these two entries, along with a more word-for-word translation:

In monte Nebo, terræ Moab, sancti Móysis, legislatóris et Prophétæ.

On Mt. Nebo, of the land of Moab, [was the death] of saint Moses, lawgiver and Prophet.

In monte Carmélo sancti Elíæ Prophétæ.

On Mt. Carmel [was the departure] of saint Elijah the Prophet.

This is the same construction that is used to report the deaths of other saints in the Matyrology. For example, a bit later on September 4th, we read:

Tréviris sancti Marcélli, Epíscopi et Mártyris.

Which would be:

At Treves [was the death] of saint Marcellus, Bishop and Martyr.

You might note that the term “saint” is lower-case in the Latin, and you might argue from that that it should be translated as an adjective–“holy”–but the point is that the Martyrology is applying to Moses and Elijah the same terminology that it applies to other saints.

It’s listing them in the same way, despite the fact that they’re Old Testament figures.

And then there’s this . . .

Meet Mar Musa and Mar Elia

English and Latin aren’t the only two languages in the Church, and the Latin Church isn’t the only body in union with the pope. Consider, for example, the Chaldean Church, which is one of the Eastern Catholic churches.

It uses a dialect of Aramaic as its liturgical language, and it refers to Moses and Elijah as saints, using the standard Aramatic term fors “saint”–“mar”–as a title for both of them.

They are referred to as “Mar Musa” (St. Moses) and “Mar Elia” (St. Elijah).

You will find various Chaldean institutions, like churches and monasteries, named after them the same way you find them named after other saints.

And Mar Musa and Mar Elia don’t just have particular days celebrating them on the Chaldean liturgical calendar. They actually have liturgical seasons devoted to them.

I should note that the term “mar” also has other meanings. Its root meaning is “lord.” And you can see it in the term “maranatha” (Marana tha = “Our Lord, come!”).

By extension it also is used as a title for saints, as with Mar Musa, Mar Elia, and all the other saints honored in the Chaldean Church.

Finally, it is also used as a title for bishops, but nobody is under the impression that Moses and Elijah were bishops.

We thus have to be a bit careful about who the “we” is when we ask why we don’t refer to Moses and Elijah as saints.

Some of us do, because the practice can vary from one language to another and from one Catholic rite to another.