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5. With Scissors and Paste: The Sources of Genesis
- Jewish Publication Society
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5 With Scissors and Paste The Sources of Genesis Primary Reading: Genesis 1–3. Division of the Bible into Chapters We are used to works of fiction and nonfiction being divided into chapters. Each chapter is supposed to be, in some sense, a self-enclosed unity. The divisions between chapters offer the ideal time to take a break—to reflect on the meaning as a whole of the unit you have just completed reading, a chance to get a drink or a snack, etc. Taking a break between Genesis 1 and 2 would seem natural for any of these purposes—but anyone who did this would be misreading the first unit of Genesis. That’s because this chapter break is located in the wrong place. The chapter numbers now found in Bibles are not integral to the text. Rather, they date from the thirteenth century C.E.1 They first appeared in manuscripts of the Vulgate, the Latin translation of the Bible that the early Church father Jerome had written. By the mid-sixteenth century, Jewish editors introduced chapters into printed Hebrew Bibles as well. Thus, the chapter divisions are relatively recent, representing one particular understanding about how the Bible may be subdivided. The “standard” chapter divisions have no authority, especially for Jews, and they are best ignored. Division of the Bible into Paragraphs Torah scrolls divide the Pentateuch into the equivalent of paragraph units by placing white space between units.2 These white spaces are of two types: short ones called setumah (hm=Vts4, “closed”), where the next unit continues on the 29 same line; and longer ones called petuchah (hc=Vtp<4, “open”), where the rest of the line is left open and the following unit continues only on the next line. This tradition of leaving spaces dates back at least to the Dead Sea Scrolls (mostly from the third century B.C.E. to the first century C.E.). However, the Dead Sea Scrolls do not always agree with the divisions found in contemporary Torah scrolls, which the great medieval Jewish scholar Maimonides (1135–1204) established on the basis of a highly accurate tenth-century biblical manuscript called the Aleppo Codex. In other words, spaces or paragraph divisions—which vary somewhat even among medieval Hebrew manuscripts and printed editions of the Bible—have never been entirely uniform. They do, however, represent a significant early interpretive tradition. Unfortunately, these divisions are not reflected in English Bible translations. Rather, each translator has independently decided where units begin and end. The typesetters have set the type accordingly. Thus, for example, the paragraph breaks in the JPS translation represent the places where three committees working in the second part of the twentieth century felt new units should be demarcated . As with any translation, their decisions deserve consideration—but are not definitive. Division of the Bible into Verses Various rabbinic sources from the Mishnah (approximately 200 C.E.) attest to the division of the Bible into pesukim (Myq1Vsp<4, literally “breaking points”), what we would call verses.3 No early comprehensive list exists of where these breaking points were perceived to be. However, some evidence suggests that they were largely the same as the later divisions found in medieval Hebrew manuscripts, which indicate verse endings by a musical note (called a silluk—a vertical line) under the final word, as well as what looks like a colon (sof pasuk) after each verse. Thus, of the three divisions noted in manuscripts—chapters, paragraphs, and verses—the latter should be seen as the most ancient and authoritative. Yet, there are sometimes differences in how the same words are divided into verses in different biblical contexts; some medieval manuscripts reflect these differences in their verse counts. Given the variants that we find, the verse divisions should not be seen as fully authoritative. Occasionally, weighty evidence suggests that a unit of thought really ends midverse while the second part of that verse starts a new unit, or that a word at the end of one verse belongs at the beginning of the next, or vice versa. 30 How to Read the Bible [3.85.63.190] Project MUSE (2024-03-19 13:09 GMT) Discerning the Bible’s Literary Units The foregoing conclusions concerning chapter, paragraph, and verse divisions have significant implications for how we read the Bible. We have to discover and use textual clues other than these “late” formal markings to decide where units begin and end. Thus, the Bible should be envisioned as a text punctuated only by word spaces4—with nothing to indicate sections, paragraphs, or even verses. Our first step when reading all biblical texts must be to subdivide that biblical text into these kinds of units. An analogy illustrates this procedure and why it matters. Let’s imagine that a typesetter made a mistake in laying out the type of a collection of poems, and printed them all as one long poem. Someone with modern or postmodern interests might enjoy reading the result as a unified work. But most of us would prefer to divide the long poem into separate poems. To do so, we would use stylistic and content-based criteria. If, for example, an E. E. Cummings poem followed an Emily Dickinson poem, this would be easy; in other cases, it would be more difficult. The Bible should be treated like this imaginary poetry book. Even though our printed version shows chapters and verses, these should be ignored. It must be imagined as a single, continuous text. Furthermore, we must develop robust criteria for distinguishing the compositional units embedded in it. Otherwise, we might do the equivalent of reading the first two lines of a Cummings poem as the conclusion of the preceding Dickinson poem! The criteria used for separating biblical sources are similar to those used to analyze poetry. We read carefully, attuned to changes in style and content, looking for contradictions between verses. None of these criteria is airtight or absolutely objective. There is no consensus about how much variation a text may contain in order to be considered a unified work. Nor do scholars always agree on whether or not a larger text is self-contradictory. Thus in some cases we find real debate about where a unit begins and/or ends. In most cases, however, there is widespread agreement. Genesis 1–3 as a Unit Genesis 1–3 is inconsistent. It recounts several events twice—for example, the creation of humankind is narrated first in 1:26–28 and then in 2:7–23. These episodes cannot be seen as a general description of the creation of humankind With Scissors and Paste 31 in chapter 1, which is elaborated and filled in chapter 2, because these two accounts differ significantly in their detail. In chapter 1, on day six, first the land animals are created (vv. 24–25), and then man and woman are created simultaneously (vv. 26–28). In contrast, in chapter 2, first man is created (v. 7), then the animals are created (vv. 18–20), and only after these are found unsuitable to be man’s partner (v. 20) is woman created (vv. 21–23). A single story, written by a single author, would not be self-contradictory in such a significant matter. This might be the most significant difference between these stories, but once it is noted, other distinctions quickly become apparent. Each individual difference by itself might not be convincing, but cumulatively, they become compelling . Other differences include the fact that in Genesis 1 the deity is called God (Myh1Ola6), whereas in much of chapters 2–3 the deity is called YHWH Elohim (MyhO1la6 hv+hy$, “the LORD God”).5 The units use different words for crucial terms like “creation”—thus in 1:27, the first human is “created” (arb, b-r-’), whereas in 2:7 the human is “formed” (rxy, y-tz-r). In fact, the word translated as “create ” (arb) is used a total of seven times in 1:1–2:3, but not at all in 2:4–3:24. Additionally, the style of chapter 1 is unlike the style of most of chapters 2–3. Genesis 1 is highly structured into “days,” each with a recurring set of formulas (e.g., “God said . . . it was so,” “And God saw that this was good. And there was evening and there was morning, X day.”). In contrast, most of chapters 2–3 is free flowing, with a much looser structure, and none of these formulaic phrases. This is connected to another distinction: the structure of chapter 1 portrays a powerful, majestic God, while the God of much of chapters 2–3— who “mov[es] about in the garden” (3:8), talks to people (3:9–11), and even tenderly clothes them (3:21)—has a fundamentally different nature. These two pictures of God are the work of different authors. Giving the Text a Break Where is the literary break between these two stories? In other words, where does the story that begins with Genesis 1:1 end? Verse 1:1 and the first half of 2:4, namely 2:4a, frame the story. The word pair “heaven . . . earth” (Xr#a=h= . . . My!m-Df=h-) as well as the verb “to create” (arb) appear together in these two contexts only. This repetition forms a frame or envelope around the story. Genesis 2:4a, “Such is the story of heaven and earth when they were created,” therefore concludes the first story. This device—in which a phrase or several words indicate the limits of a unit—is called an “inclusio,” and it is common in biblical writing. For example, 32 How to Read the Bible [3.85.63.190] Project MUSE (2024-03-19 13:09 GMT) the Tower of Babel story in Genesis 11 begins Xr#a=h=~lk= yh1y$v_, “The whole earth was,” and concludes Xr#a=h=~lk= yn@p<4~li-, “over the face of the whole earth” (v. 9; transl. adapted). Similarly, Psalm 8 begins and ends with the very same verse: “O LORD, our Lord, How majestic is Your name throughout the earth” (vv. 2, 10). In general, the word eileh (hl<3a2, “such is”) may be used either to point backward (as a conclusion) or to point forward (as an introduction). In this case, however, it cannot be an introduction for two reasons: (1) Its use of “heaven and earth” specifically refers back to Genesis 1:1 and other instances in that chapter, while this phrase is never found in 2:5–3:24; and (2) it uses the verb b-r-’ (arb, “to create”), which is characteristic of chapter 1 but absent in 2:5–3:24. Genesis 2:4b, the second part of 2:4, thus introduces a new story, which continues past chapter 3. In fact, the vocabulary of 2:4 further suggests that it is composite; it is unlikely that a single author would refer to the created world first as “heaven and earth” (2:4a) and then as “earth and heaven” (2:4b). This explains why many Bibles, including the JPS translation, begin a new paragraph with 2:4b, breaking in the middle of a verse. Two Stories and Their Relationship Once the division between these two stories is determined at the middle of Genesis 2:4, a final difference between them jumps out—they are not both creation stories of the same type. The first story describes the creation of the world, in which people play a role alongside all else that is created. In contrast, the second creation story has people as its main focus, narrating the creation of parts of the world only to the extent that they are relevant to people. Thus 1:1–2:4a is an ancient Israelite story about the creation of the world, while 2:4b–3:24 is a different story, by a different Israelite author with different ideas, and its focus is the creation of humankind. This analysis raises two issues: If Genesis 1:1–2:4a and 2:4b–3 are telling different stories, then why not read the second story as an elaboration of the first, thus reading chapters 1–3 as one long story? In addition, if we insist on reading them as two stories, is the model propounded here, of two stories being woven together, a plausible model for how literature was produced in the ancient world? The possibility of reading Genesis 1–3 as a compositional unity is vitiated by the fundamental differences in vocabulary, style, and content between the two stories. While in theory, a story about the creation of humankind might come as an elaboration or culmination of a general creation story, in practice we could only claim that this were the case if the two largely agreed in content, style, and With Scissors and Paste 33 vocabulary. Given the significant differences in all of these areas, the stories should be separated, and viewed as written by different authors. The second question, concerning the blending of the two stories together into a single story, highlights one of the main differences between much of ancient and modern writing—a difference that we must simply accept and get used to, or we will be like Marta (see chapter 3). In most modern societies, the name of the author is closely linked to the literary work he or she has produced; through copyright control, the author can protect that work. Ancient writing was quite different. Much writing in the ancient Near East was anonymous. Beyond that, there was no conception that a work must be copied over exactly. The copyist typically played a creative role in the transmission of texts, often adding to them. This may be seen most clearly in a variety of Mesopotamian texts, most especially the Gilgamesh epic, which expanded over time, and even incorporated large sections from other compositions.6 It may also be seen in various Dead Sea Scroll manuscripts of the Torah as well.7 In fact, in many ways the Bible is like modern texts that circulate on the Internet—their original author is often unknown, and many users who forward the texts revise them or add to them in significant ways. We must get used to this different notion of “text” as we approach the Bible. Source Criticism of the Torah The stories in Genesis 1:1–2:4a and 2:4b–3:24 should not be viewed as fragments that became incorporated into the Torah. Rather, they are each introductions to a much more extensive document, or “source,” that may be found in the Torah. It is called “source criticism” when we use this type of analysis to divide the Torah text into earlier written documents that have been combined by editors or redactors. When applied to the Torah as a whole, it suggests that the Torah is comprised of four main sources—four originally separate, (more or less) complete documents—that have been woven together.8 The date of these documents , called J, E, D, and P, has been the subject of much debate in recent biblical scholarship. The oldest document is most likely J, which was given this name since in Genesis it typically uses the four-letter name of God, YHWH (hvhy), which some Christian translators have transcribed as “Jehovah.” The JPS translation represents this name as “the LORD,” while other translations use “the Eternal” or Yahweh or YHWH. Probably of Judean authorship, this source was written in the first half of the monarchic period. Next is E, the Elohist document, so named because it typically refers to God in Genesis using the term Elohim 34 How to Read the Bible [3.85.63.190] Project MUSE (2024-03-19 13:09 GMT) (Myh1Ola6, “God”). It may originate from the Northern kingdom, and is likely slightly later than J. E is relatively short, and unlike the J and P, it is unclear if it should be viewed as an originally separate document. P refers to the Priestly source, which also uses Elohim and other divine names (but not YHWH) in Genesis. This document is shaped by Priestly concerns, including order, purity, and assuring the divine presence among Israel. Its date has been an issue of great debate in biblical scholarship. Most likely, this source represents a school of thought that was active over a long period of time, both before and after the Babylonian exile of 586. The D source stands for Deuteronomy, the final book of the Torah. With the exception of parts of the final chapters, which contain a diversity of material, most of Deuteronomy features a special vocabulary and particular theological concerns—especially the proper worship of a single God in the proper way in the proper place (Jerusalem), where His “name” resides. Like P, D is not a totally unified composition from a single time and place, but represents a stream of tradition that is more or less coterminus with P. With the exception of the D source, which more or less has its own book, the Torah as it is now structured represents a careful combination of these sources. Putting the Pieces Together Given the apparent existence of individual sources, they must have been edited together, or “redacted,” at some point. Most likely this occurred in stages. Scholars call the final editor R, for redactor. In this form, the work of the Priestly source has a particularly strong voice, and even introduces the Torah. (Gen. 1:1–2:4a is P; Gen. 2:4b ff. is J.) For this reason, some scholars equate R with the final voice of P. Exactly why the sources were intertwined in this way is unclear. Exploring this issue really involves asking two questions: (1) Why were all of these sources retained, rather than just retaining the latest or most authoritative one? (2) Why were they combined in this odd way, rather than being left as complete documents that would be read side by side, much like the model of the four different and separate gospels, which introduce the Christian Bible or New Testament? Since there is no direct evidence going back to the redaction of the Torah, these issues may be explored only in a most tentative fashion, with plausible rather than definitive answers. Probably the earlier documents had a certain prestige and authority in ancient Israel, and could not simply be discarded.9 Additionally, the redaction of the Torah from a variety of sources most likely represents an attempt to enfranchise those groups who held those particular sources With Scissors and Paste 35 as authoritative. Certainly the Torah does not contain all of the early traditions of Israel. Yet, it does contain the traditions that the redactor felt were important for bringing together a core group of Israel (most likely during the Babylonian exile of 586–538 B.C.E.). The mixing of these sources by intertwining them preserved a variety of sources and perspectives. (Various methods of intertwining were used—the preferred method was to interleave large blocks of material, as in the initial chapters of Genesis. However, when this would have caused narrative difficulties, as in the flood story or the plagues of Exodus, the sources were interwoven— several verses from one source, followed by several verses from the other.) More than one hundred years ago, the great American scholar G. F . Moore called attention to the second-century Christian scholar Tatian, who composed the Diatessaron.10 This work is a harmony of the Gospels, where most of the four canonical gospels are combined into a single work, exactly the same way that scholars propose the four Torah strands of J, E, D, and P have been combined. This, along with other ancient examples, shows that even though the classical model posited by source criticism may seem strange to us, it reflects a way that people wrote literature in antiquity.11 The first step for reading the beginning of Genesis is complete. We know that the story that begins in 1:1 ends at 2:4a. This is a significant step, since it allows us, encourages us, or perhaps even forces us to read Genesis 1:1–2:4a apart from the story that follows. But this is only a technical, preliminary step to interpreting this material. The following chapter will address the meaning of each of these stories. 36 How to Read the Bible ...