Still reconnoitering the book I was struck by this in the intro to chapter 3 (93-4), I find it difficult to see how he can defend the claim whilst reading passages like Mat 5:17ff. or Luke 16:14ff.:
[T]he NT as a whole understands Jesus to be the supreme revelation of God that culminates and supersedes all others.
The word “supersedes” seems to me Marcionite, and in direct contradiction to what Boyd has argued elsewhere. I’ll have to see what he really means when I look closer. (On similar grounds to claims that when Paul appears to deny women’s teaching ministry in church settings he cannot mean this as it contradicts his practice elsewhere, I will need to look for other ways to understand what Boyd is saying…
if something we would otherwise always call “evil”—such as infanticide—must be considered “good” on the grounds that God commanded it, then we have to admit that there is no longer any intelligible distinction between what we mean by “good,” when applied to God, and what we would mean by “evil.” And on the principle that words are only intelligible if they meaningfully contrast with their opposite, this entails that the word “good,” when applied to God,is devoid of meaning.
Gregory A. Boyd, The Crucifixion of the Warrior God: Volumes 1 & 2. Fortress Press, 2017, 387.
In other words there is a difference between saying that we cannot understand God and God’s ways, and saying that something plainly and obviously wrong is right because God is described in Scripture as commanding it.
I begin to understand why Boyd has been accused of Marcionism when I read at the start of chapter 8:
The problem of relating the Old and New Testaments is as old as the church itself, and the incongruity of the OT’s violent divine portraits with the nonviolent, self-sacrificial, enemy-embracing agape-love of God revealed in the crucified Christ represents the apex of this challenge.
Gregory A. Boyd, The Crucifixion of the Warrior God: Volumes 1 & 2. Fortress Press, 2017, 335.
Though his subsequent remarks make clear how far such is from his intention. Such thoughts, as I continue my initial reconnaissance of the books, are beginning both to shape some questions for my review to try to answer, and yet at the same time make me impatient to see (in book two I assume) more details of his approach to a solution.
It seems that Boyd’s approach to reading ‘canonically’ will be the diametric opposite of Childs’ canonical reading, which seeks to take the divine inspiration1 of the whole canonical process, from oral delivery or early drafts through to incorporation and placing/ordering in the biblical codices, into account as contributors to the canonical meaning of Scripture.
[F]or a distinctly theological reading of Scripture such as we will be conducting in this work, nothing of consequence hangs in the balance on the extent to which we can (for example) confidently discern earlier, previously independent sources that were redacted together in the process of the canon’s formation. The theological reading of Scripture simply takes the final “God-breathed” form of the canon as its starting point, and it allows the interpretation of every particular passage to be influenced by the canon as a whole.
Gregory A. Boyd, The Crucifixion of the Warrior God: Volumes 1 & 2. Fortress Press, 2017, 6. Question: Is it Boyd’s desire to be an American Evangelical that leads him to this reductionist view of Scripture?
Hence, any Scripture that ascribed change or suffering to God was typically interpreted to depict God as he appears to us, not as he actually is. But until rather recently, no one has seen the need to apply this same strategy to reconcile Scripture with God’s moral attributes, especially as they are revealed in the crucified Christ.
Gregory A. Boyd, The Crucifixion of the Warrior God: Volumes 1 & 2. Fortress Press, 2017, xxxviii.
Concerning his study (aimed at a book) of places where “God commanded and engaged in violence in the OT.” Boyd writes:
My goal, which is shared by most Evangelical books addressing this topic, was to put the best possible “spin” on the OT’s violent portraits of God, demonstrating that God was justified in each instance in which he commanded and/or engaged in violence.
Gregory A. Boyd, The Crucifixion of the Warrior God: Volumes 1 & 2. Fortress Press, 2017, xxix.
This is surely a powerful argument that something is rotten, that people feel driven to ‘spin’? But how many ‘Evangelicals’ find themselves ‘spinning for God’ like Job’s friends.
This is not a book review. I will be writing a review of The Crucifixion of the Warrior God, but this is not it. This post will reflect on the experience of reviewing this work, it is a sort of meta-review. Any that follow it may continue this reflection, or may address my responses to aspects of Boyd’s argument that interest me. I do not expect either of these things will appear in the review when I write it.
The book is enormous, two volumes nearly 1500 pages, seven sections six of which are themselves the size of small books. The work also addresses what is evidently one of the key “conundrums” for early 21st century Christians. Reconciling the texts of terror that appear to depict God as delighting in or commanding indiscriminate violence with the way of love revealed supremely in Christ. Extreme ‘solutions’ are sometimes proposed (at least on Facebook, but sometimes in more rarefied academic circles). Some suggest removing chunks of the Bible (most simply, but in the end not effectively, the Marcionite one Testament Bible).1 Others harmonise Scripture with their theology by the claim that, since God is God, whatever God commands is right and just.2
The book has powerful claims made for it before we reach the contents list. A large number of prominent biblical scholars and theologians (mainly from the Evangelical end of the scholarly spectrum) endorse Boyd’s work as ground-breaking, insightful and revolutionary.
My review will probably need to offer less than one word per page, so I will not be able to give much of an overview. Better scholars than me have evaluated it as important even seminal, so my review will not be evaluative. I think what I can realistically, and I hope helpfully, aim for is to assists people to decide if this is a book they should invest the time to address.3
Not effective since the NT also contains its own texts of terror. [↩]
Whether this is true or not, it is not helpful. Since it risks replacing a God who is wrong with one who is a monster. [↩]
It only costs US$60, so the per page or per inch of shelf-space cost is very low! But at 1445 pages 1250 if you leave off the appendices, and perhaps only some 700 if you overlook the footnotes ;) it demands a considerable investment of time. [↩]
Near the heart of Marshall’s plea, for a principled way to “go beyond the Bible” biblically, is the issue of genocide. The apparent approval (or even command) from Yahweh of genocide seems incompatible with divinity. Like Marshall, many/most/all(?) who think about this issue from a time after the attempted genocides of the 20th Century, feel genocide would make the godhead a demon. The Turkish massacres of Armenians, German attempts to eradicate “the Jewish problem”, Idi Amin’s cleansing of Uganda of Asians, the frighteningly human brutality in Rwanda, the mass graves of the Balkans, the killing fields of Cambodia and other sometimes less reported horrors have sensitised us to these stories in ways which our ancestors in the Faith did not find so troublesome.
This is a key point that Vanhoozer attacks in his response to Marshall. This issue was the third Marshall raised in making his plea:
…where teaching is given, particularly in the Old Testament, that seems more like “cruder notions” to be abandoned than “the foundation for later revelation.” The divine approval (expressed or tacit) of genocide in certain situations is an obvious and disturbing example.1
Vanhoozer’s critique is sharp and pointed:
Marshall wants Christians to get beyond genocide. So do I. But I’m not prepared to say that God’s judgement of the world, or of nations, is “intrinsically wrong” if it involves killing people. Marshall is doing more than “reconsidering”, it seems to me, when he says that we “can no longer think of God in that way”. Unless we are prepared to jettison significant portions of the Old Testament (or to revise their meaning in the light of contemporary sensitivities), this way of going beyond Scripture has more of Marcion than of Marshall about it. For it really is not about numbers. If Marshall is to be consistent, he should say that God does not have the right to take a single life. After all that is unacceptable human behaviour, and we cannot justify God “by saying that he is free to act differently from believers”. On the contrary, I think we must say that God is indeed free to act differently from believers. The Creator is bound not by the laws that he has imposed upon creation, but by his own nature… Finally, if we are shocked by images of judgement, what are we to make of the Cross?2
It seems to me that Vanhoozer’s neat sidestep here (which also seems typical of “divine command” theorists) will not work. The issue is not whether God should be held to the same standards we would use for believers, though that issue may be less cut and dried than it might seem. Rather the issue is genocide. By its nature genocide attempts (even when unsuccessful and bungled) indiscriminate killing. Or rather, it discriminates, but only on grounds of race, ethnicity, or geographical proximity, and not on any moral criterion.
The question Vanhoozer ought to be addressing is not: may God commit acts that are rightly forbidden to creatures, but rather is indiscriminate killing an attribute of Godhead. In particular (since this discussion is among Christian believers) is indiscriminate killing an attribute consistent with the godhead revealed in Christ crucified.
I. Howard Marshall, Kevin J. Vanhoozer, and Stanley E. Porter. Beyond the Bible: Moving from Scripture to Theology. Baker Academic, 2004, 30. [↩]
In the comments (which are perhaps more enlightening than the post) to The Bible wasn’t written for David Ker the eponymous David (or should be be called the pseudonymous Lingamish?) points to a superb article1 :
Pieter Bruegel the Elder (1526/1530–1569) via Wikimedia Commons
In comments on the previous post Jeremy raises the question of 1 Sam 15. Which seems a worse problem. There (1 Sam 15:2-3 ) Samuel, in God’s name, instructs the newly anointed king, Saul, to slaughter all the Amalekites. He explicitly orders that non-combatants like women, small children and babies be included in the massacre. Saul then wages war on the Amalekites, successfully, but takes spares Agag the Amalekite king and the best of the flocks and herds (1 Sam 15:9) keeping the best and slaughtering what was not “good”.
Samuel then chases after Saul and is greeted by the bleating of sheep and the lowing of cattle, which Saul claims that “the people” have “spared” (1 Sam 15:14-15). It becomes clear that Saul’s sin is twofold, first he has become so great in his own estimation that he not God is the arbiter of his actions (1 Sam 15:17), secondly he has “swooped on the spoil” (1 Sam 15:19).
A Karen family after their home and paddy rice burned by Burma Army troops (photo Free Burma Rangers)
Saul’s wrong, which seems to be the point of the story, the reason it is told, is that he places himself over God, and that he is greedy for spoil.
Saul’s sin then is unexceptionable, pride in one’s own authority or greed for spoil and self-advantage1 are wrong. What is left totally unacceptable in the story is Samuel’s claim that God orders the killing of a whole people.
There are a number of possible approaches here:
Firstly one might claim that this again is hyperbole. Despite the specifications this might be an extreme case of Ancient Near Eastern war language. This is probably true, but the specification not to spare babies makes it an unsatisfactory answer as this draws attention to the claim that God commands war, and war does inevitably involve innocent suffering.
Secondly, one might consider the possibility of God’s commanding warfare. Here I can only say that while in comfortable, middle class Western contexts a God who takes sides and even commands war may seem “uncivilised”, if thought of from the perspective of the brutally oppressed in many other contexts such a God would be considered a saviour. Such people pray that God will intervene to protect them from the physical and economic violence of the oppressor.
Thirdly, and more radically one might notice that here we have a narrative. In this narrative it is Samuel who repeats to us (and to Saul) God’s commands. Clearly we must not always take the words of characters in biblical narratives as truth. Characters often lie. They can even lie about what God has said (see 1 Kings 22) where on one of the two occasions (1 Kgs 22:15b cf. 1 Kgs 22:14; or 1 Kgs 22:17) Micaiah does not tell accurately what God has said.
Perhaps most radically one might ask whether the biblical writers have correctly understood and interpreted what they tell us. This option is not open to an American fundamentalist, who needs to assert that Scripture is inerrant. It is a possibility to be considered on other views of Scripture. Or equally ask whether we have perhaps not understood and interpreted correctly! The details of Scripture are often difficult and complex, what matters is perspicuous. It is perspicuous throughout the Bible that God is loving and merciful. Can such a loving and merciful God command desperate warfare? Given the broken, spoiled and desperate world that we see around us, probably. Was this such a case? I do not know!
In the light of all this, what also seems perspicuous to me is that the message of this story is NOT murder babies and commit genocide, but do not claim absolute authority and do not be greedy for advantage. Messages like that were the reason this story was told, to take other messages from it is to abuse the story.
Especially when, as the commander, one seeks to transfer the blame to others? [↩]