Prophesying the Past

This post could actually go in either "The Labyrinth or the Garden," since the subject is labyrinthine thinking, or it could be in "Adventures and Misadventures in Academe," since it is one of many misadventures. However, I put it here because the subject is Bible-related.

I am currently teaching an advanced composition/research course called "Visions of the End Times." The class readings include the Book of Daniel, the book of Revelation, selections from Isaiah, several films, and some other materials. The essential argument of the class is that the idea of an end times is a myth that has circulated in a variety of contexts where there has been political/social crisis that drove people to believe some supernatural solution would bring the only relief.

Along the way, I have pointed out that historically the Book of Isaiah was written cumulatively over some two centuries, not by a single person. The Book of Daniel, though it was set in the sixth century (just post-Destruction), was actually (by scholarly consensus) written in the second century: thus, its "prophecies" are actually an account of recent offenses by the mid-second-century ruler Antiochus Epiphanes, not prophecies made in the sixth century about abuses to come.

A student, who is clearly a Christian tending toward more literal interpretations of the Bible, proposed in the introduction to his research paper to demonstrate that the book of Isaiah really was written by one person and the Book of Daniel was really written in the sixth century, so its prophecies were true prophecies, not veiled political commentary on the recent past. The course, since it is a research course, has a requirement that the students cite legitimate, credible scholarly sources in carrying on their discussion.

When I asked the student about the scholarly support for his arguments about single-author Isaiah and the sixth-century Book of Daniel, the student cited John, who, the student claimed, refers to Isaiah as though he is the single author of the whole book. John takes Daniel's prophecies as genuine prophecies that came true several centuries later. I advised him to leave the dating and authorship claims out of his paper--they weren't really necessary to his overall argument. But more importantly, I said, the book of John could not be considered a scholarly source. It was neither objective nor authoritative. It felt odd to be saying this because, of course, for this student, since John is in the Bible, nothing could be more authoritative: it is "the word of God," as is everything else in the Bible.

I insisted, however, that modern scholars, limited as their knowledge is about this ancient world, know much more about such issues as authorship and textual development than John knew. We can say, on the basis of historical references alone, that Isaiah could not have been the sole author of the book attributed to him. One can only say that John believed Isaiah to be the sole author and the prophecies of Daniel to be sixth century. Modern scholars are more knowledgeable. I'm not sure how convincing my statement about John's lack of scholarly methodology and information was, but I suspect the student went away shaking his head at my ignorance. However, perhaps not--perhaps he went away thinking he had better re-evaluate his own ideas, or what he could expect by pursuing a degree in a secular institution. Though I told him also that any credible scholar in a theological institute would say the same thing: dating of Isaiah and the Book of Daniel is widely accepted.

The conversation reminds me of one I had with some Jehovah's Witnesses who came to the door and handed me one of their pamphlets, expecting me to contribute money in return. When I told them they had the date of the Book of Daniel incorrect, they asked what made me think so. I told them modern scholarship has figured this out. One man said, oh, that's the book he (meaning me) uses for information--we use a different, more authoritative book. I told him I'd love to see that book, since I want to be informed about all points of view. He promised to send me a copy, but I've never received it. It didn't sound like he was referring to the Bible. On the occasion of another JW visit, when I mentioned the Book of Daniel dating issue, a woman said quickly that it's not really very clear what the dates were that long ago. I said that no, scholars were quite certain about this from a variety of sources. She and her partner, and the cute child they had set in front of them as point-person, observed that it was a beautiful day and bid me adieu.

On another occasion, as I was discussing differences in the gospel accounts of Jesus' life, ministry, and crucifixion, I noticed a student becoming more and more alarmed. His girl friend, who had attended the whole class with him, noticed as well and asked, I thought, with great wisdom and sensitivity the crisis he was undergoing, whether, if he intended to study for the ministry--as he had indicated to me once in conversation was his goal--he would hear much of this same material in divinity school. I said yes, certainly, depending somewhat on which school he went to, but if he went to one of the more credible and scholarly institutions, he would certainly have to learn the scholarship of the discipline. I have never heard what his career has finally been.

I have observed to classes that when one studies the Bible, one must not study only the Bible. If there were ever a book that requires wide reading in scholarly literature--and I mean scholarly, not just inspirational commentaries--the Bible is it. One can read, understand, and enjoy Shakespeare because the text is not clouded with centuries of entrenched theological overlay, belief in which determines one's eternal destiny. Shakespeare, Milton, Faulkner, Pynchon, Grass, Marquez, Cortazar--they can be challenging, but you don't go to hell for misreading them. You can have disagreements with friends and acquaintances without jeopardizing your soul. The stakes in Biblical interpretation were established long ago, along with the fear of open-minded, non-theology-driven reading, or (God forbid!) of dismissing the Bible altogether as a guide to life. The scene in James Joyce's Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man is a good example of how religious teaching has been rooted in fear of damnation: a priest conveys the horrors of Hell in lurid and terrifying detail to a class of young boys. The obvious underlying message is: these horrible sufferings will be yours if you misbehave. It's worse than the worst beating you ever had or could imagine.

So I can see why someone like my student would be impervious to a scholarly approach. It means denying the very principles of salvation that have guided his life so far. It is to make an accomodation with the threat of damnation. Born-again Christians seem to emphasize the joy of their salvation--but underlying that joy is the fear of the opposite: the damnation they are relieved to have escaped. There is too much at stake to risk being scholarly and objective. Accomodation: that is not part of the tradition, going back to the rebellions of the Jews against their foreign occupiers and the martyrdom of Masada. Certain forms of Christianity inherit from their Hebrew Bible roots the determination to adhere to principle or die.

It is much easier not to be so determinedly religious. In fact, when you once start, you find that life is better and more relaxed, and you haven't lost anything essential. There is a great line about Rama from the Ramayana: he tried being good, and found it easier than he thought. Here is a book, speaking of Bibles, that is more gentle, charming, good-humored, wise and moral than the Hebrew/Christian texts.