My childhood home was overseen by a mother who was born in England and grew up in Canada with parents who never completely abandoned their British heritage. Because of this lineage, my mother was careful to impress the use of proper grammar and pronunciation on my sisters and me. Perhaps this explains why I did well in elementary and secondary school English and literature classes. It may also explain why I eventually chose English as my major (and initially, French as a minor) in my secondary education curriculum in college. More to the point, my concentration was grammar and linguistics. Over the years, I have been referred to as a “grammar Nazi” by my students and a few friends who chafed under my constant correction.
When I entered Bible college in my early twenties, I was
thrilled to study koine Greek, the language of the New Testament. Having inherited
my mother’s love of precise language, I was keen to know exactly what the Bible
writers had said. As a witness to my enthusiasm, near the end of the first
term, my first-year Greek professor told me not to bother with a second year
because my capabilities were already beyond most of his second-year students. Had
circumstances not intervened, I would have gone straight into the study of
Hebrew so that I could apply the same diligence to Old Testament study, but it
was not to be. I have done some self-study, but I must rely on commentaries to fully
understand ancient Hebrew.
I lay all of this background so that my penchant for
interpreting the Scripture in the most diligent fashion might be
understandable. As I wrote recently in “Where’s My
Cloud,” knowing who God is must be the primary goal of any sincere
Christian. Following closely behind this is knowing what God expects of His
people. To learn these things from texts that are thousands of years old, one
must take care to interpret them in the context in which they were written. The
Bible says plainly that God
does not change, but languages and cultures do. The most reliable
interpretation of Scripture is one that first attempts to understand the
original intent and meaning of the ancient author.
Seeking original meaning also
entails knowing the genre in which the original was composed. As I wrote in “Understanding
the Bible as Literature,” “The Old Testament, particularly the wisdom
literature and the prophets, is full of metaphor, imagery and symbolism. The
original readers were accustomed to literature that was not meant literally.”
Not literal does not mean not true. Nor does it mean not inspired. It certainly
does not mean that we can ignore the lesson it teaches. It simply means that modern
readers must get into the heads of the original authors and audience to grasp
the significance of what was written.
Now I come to the point which inspired me to write about this
subject again. My through-the-Bible reading schedule has me in Numbers these
days. As its name suggests, Numbers is a record of counting things. God ordered
Moses to count the people by tribes and clans. The total was a surprising
603,550 males over the age of 20. This would mean that there were between 2-3
million people when women and children were added. That number of people, if it
is literal, is going to present problems.
The actual numbering is problematic for those who want the
Bible to be literal in every word. Ancient language scholar, Dr. Michael S. Heiser,
says that several factors mitigate against the Numbers count being a numerical value.
The amount of food needed for the 45 days after leaving Egypt before manna
arrived would have been unmanageable; millions of animals and thousands of pounds
of grain would have been necessary. Also, the time for a phalanx of that
magnitude to cross the Red Sea would have been a week or more not one night as
Scripture records.
Additionally, according to Heiser, the area outlined as
their camp on the Jordan before crossing into Canaan could not be realistic. He
says, “At 2 million, the population density would be over 40,000 people per
square mile—13,000 people per square mile greater than the city of New York in
2010.” Remember, there were no high-rise tents in ancient Israel making that
density beyond unlikely. Then too, the Israelites were said to be the smallest ethnic
group of all those in Canaan, yet there is no archeological evidence that there
were any cities large enough to make that true. I suspect one could also rebut
this claim with the counts of enemy dead during the conquest of Canaan even if
we believe those numbers were numerically accurate.
Something inside me struggles with this information. I want
to believe the historicity of all the Bible, but as Heiser points out, the
ancient Mideastern literary practices were not the same as ours. As Westerners
(Greeks) we think only of numbers having numerical value. The ancients
considered them to have metaphoric value perhaps more important than their actual
value. Example: God
owns the cattle on a thousand hills. Since no one thinks there were exactly
1,000 hills where cattle existed when that was penned, neither does one assume
that there were other cattle on other hills that God did not own.
I would easily buy the idea that numbers were taken metaphorically
until I come to a spot where God was numerically specific. When counting heads
of Israel to balance numbers of Levites for redemption of the first born, God
uses the exact number to be redeemed, 22,273. Since there were only 22,000
Levites, the Israelites had to add 273 animal redemptions to make up the
difference in the actual numbers. (Num. 3:39-48) I feel like I am way out on a
limb to say that the number is a metaphor, but the concept of one-for-one
redemption is accurate. It works, and it maintains the truth of Scripture
without being literal. Nonetheless, it makes me quiver slightly, metaphorically
speaking.
To quote myself again, “A slavish, literal interpretation of
all Scripture leads to gross misinterpretation. At one point in church history,
people were put to death because they suggested the earth revolved around the
sun. The church leaders thought this contradicted the clear teaching of the
Bible that the sun rose and set (revolved) around the earth. Again, the Bible
frequently uses the idea of the earth having ‘foundations’ because the
cosmology of the day pictured the earth as a table with legs or foundations.” I
would add that people who are expecting the heavenly Jerusalem to be a 1,500
cubic mile floating city with transparent gold streets and gates made of giant
pearls may also have been influenced by misinterpretation of figurative
language.
I will attempt an analogy from secular culture. Many
children in our culture believe that a mythical character named Santa Claus
delivers presents in a magical sleigh on Christmas Eve. As I have written elsewhere,
the legend upon which Santa is built is not indisputable. It remains, however,
a good reason to be charitable at Christmas time, so there is no reason to
scrap the practice just because we outgrow our belief in the myth. Since the Bible
is so much more believable than myths due to its authenticated historicity,
borrowing principles from metaphors, images and symbols found in Scripture is a
sound practice.
It may be my mother’s voice echoing in my head that says
numerals must be numbers. I can fully relate to people who insist that creation
took exactly six twenty-four-hour days, and the Messianic reign will last 1,000
years of 365 ¼ days each. What I cannot do is join the doubters who will reject
the entire Bible because the numbers don’t work. I will try to get comfortable
with the numbers being metaphors alongside all the other beautiful imagery of
Scripture. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of literal death, I will
fear no evil because I know God loves a good metaphor.
Related posts: Understanding
the Bible as Literature; Rain on the
Parade; Not Our Fathers' God
this subject is very confusing. thank you for clarifying some of it
ReplyDeleteWhen reading through this section of Scripture again this year, I came across an entirely plausible explanation for the exceptionally large numbers in Numbers. Here I quote Michael S. Heiser from the Faithlife Study Bible:
ReplyDeleteProposed Solutions [to impossibly large numbers]
According to the most frequently cited proposal, the Hebrew word for “thousand” (eleph) may also mean “tribe” or “clan” (Num 10:4; Judg 6:5; 1 Sam 10:19). If so, the numbers may simply refer to military units, which corresponds to the aim of the censuses to determine the number of males eligible for Israel’s army. The chapters in Numbers that record the censuses, then, use eleph as both a number and a term for a military unit. However, the only examples where eleph might plausibly refer to something other than a number have nothing to do with counting. Moreover, in other passages that do involve counting (e.g., Exod 18:21; 1 Sam 8:12; 2 Sam 18:1), the term does not have any other meaning than mathematical tabulation.
Another proposal claims that the author of Numbers deliberately exaggerated the numbers associated with the exodus and the wilderness wanderings; in other words, they represent literary hyperbole. Comparisons with other ancient Semitic texts of similar genres validate this suggestion. Ancient Sumerian, Akkadian, and Assyrian literature, particularly royal inscriptional and historical annals, deliberately employed hyperbole regarding large numbers. The annals aimed to glorify the god of the king by exaggerating the king’s victories. In fact, the biblical accounts of the exodus and conquest bear striking similarities to contemporary annals in many ways. Given this, the hyperbolic use of numbers in the Old Testament anchors the biblical text to the writing conventions of the time—an argument that favors their authenticity as truly ancient documents. The writer of these accounts thus could have used a known literary device to draw attention to the might of Yahweh—the King of all kings, earthly or divine—in delivering His people, Israel.
John D. Barry et al., Faithlife Study Bible (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2012, 2016).
The idea of hyperbole fits with my suggestion that ancient Hebrew language was often sprinkled with literary devices that make literal interpretation awkward. The idea that the Hebrew term may not even be a numeral in some instances is quite satisfying for someone who wants to be genuinely true to the literary conventions of the writers.