humanism, skepticism, and pessimism in israel

American Academy of Religion

Humanism, Skepticism, and Pessimism in IsraelAuthor(s): John F. PriestSource: Journal of the American Academy of Religion, Vol. 36, No. 4 (Dec., 1968), pp. 311-326Published by: Oxford University PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1462074 .

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Humanism, Skepticism, and Pessimism in Israel

JOHN F. PRIEST

UMANISM is not a word often associated with the Old Testament. Indeed the apparent preoccupation of the authors of the Hebrew canon with God is usually taken as prima facie evidence ruling out a

serious consideration of the topic. From bereiith bara' 'Elohim (Gen. 1:1) to mi bakem mikkol 'ammo YHWH 'Elohaw 'immo (II Chron. 36:23) the dominant figure in historical narrative, in the framework of legal corpora, in psalms of praise, lament or thanksgiving is none other than Yahweh, God of Israel.

This attitude is reflected in two of the definitions of humanism assigned by Webster's: ".. .the learning, or cultural impulse, imparted by those who brought the Greek and Roman classics into new vogue during the Renaissance. 3. A mode or attitude of thought or action centering upon dis- tinctively human interests or ideals." The first stresses the non-Hebraic strata of western civilization, implying that the Hebraic contribution lies exclusively, or at least primarily, elsewhere. The second rules out humanism as a dominant concern in the Old Testament by defining the term without reference to God. Two considerations, however, prevent us from letting the matter drop with these dictionary references.

Without special pleading, these definitions, however widely accepted, are too restrictive. The fact that in the intellectual history of man we find ourselves required to speak of "theistic humanism" and even of "Christian humanism" - to refer only to the western tradition - demonstrates the poverty of the dictionary definition.

Secondly, I cannot regard a literal approach to "God-talk" in the Old Testament as the only viable one. To be explicit, because much of the theo- centered language of the Old Testament was so stated because of its particular historical and cultural milieu, may it not be possible to translate a substantial portion of it into anthropo-centered or socio-centered language without violating its genuine intent?

Given these intentions, our first task is to set forth a working definition of humanism not so aberrant from ordinary usage as to be meaningless for general discourse nor so nebulous as to cover a multitude of private scholarly sins.

JOHN F. PRIEST, formerly Academic Dean of the Hartford Seminary Foundation, has been Professor of Religion at the Florida State University since August, 1968. The present article represents the substance of the author's Presidential Address at the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Religion, Chicago, 1967.

? 1968, by American Academy of Religion



312 JOHN F. PRIEST

I

To establish a fair definition of humanism is not a problem peculiar to the enterprise outlined above. A distinguished historian of Renaissance thought amply elucidated the problem a number of years ago.' His conclusion - that the terms humanism and humanist historically denoted a

"clearly defined cycle of historical disciplines, namely grammar, rhetoric, history, poetry and moral philosophy"2 and those who were engaged in the

teaching and study of such disciplines - is obsolete, however technically ac- curate it may be. Nevertheless, his careful survey illuminates the fuzziness

surrounding current use of the terms. More recently the "dean" of American Old Testament scholars began

an ambitious project setting forth his reflections on a diverse range of sub-

jects to which he has previously made only passing reference. Significantly the initial essay in the first volume is entitled "Toward a Theistic Humanism."3 Professor Albright begins that essay by distinguishing among three basic

types of humanism: classical Renaissance humanism, modern atheistic humanism, and theistic humanism.4

The essay does not make clear to me just what Albright means by theistic or, more narrowly, Christian humanism,5 although the deficiency may be mine and not his. Of course, explication of the matter may be forthcoming in his promised second volume tentatively entitled Experience in Quest of Reason: Phoenicia, Israel and lonia. In either case I am indebted to him for re-presenting the theme to biblical scholarship, although my own development differs widely from his point of view as presently adumbrated and stems from an independent and radically different series of concerns and interests.

Despite the difficulty of setting forth a definition of humanism that will be intelligible and acceptable to all, it is now time to indicate how I understand the term and will employ it in the balance of this paper. This understanding reflects my general outlook even though here it is derived from and applied almost exclusively to material from the Old Testament.

In the first place humanism is simply a fundamental perspective that focuses its interest upon man in his individual and collective life. From this perspective, man is important, his life is significant, and his ultimate well being is of primary value. If this were the only facet of my definition of humanism, however, it could well be labelled humanitarianism, and we would have no difficulty in assigning it to a central place in Old Testament material.6

1 P. O. Kristeller, Renaissance Thought, New York-Evanston: Harper and Row, 1961. 2 Ibid., esp. pp. 8-10, 95-114, 120-125. 1 W. F. Albright, History, Archaeology and Christian Humanism, New York: McGraw-

Hill, 1964, pp. 3-61. 4 Ibid., p. 3. 5 See esp. ibid., pp. 56-61. 6 In this connection it may be noted that failure to observe this distinction between

humanism and humanitarianism weakens, in my judgment, the otherwise extremely valuable



HUMANISM, SKEPTICISM, AND PESSIMISM IN ISRAEL 313

But, in my thesis, there is another essential facet to humanism which is more problematical from the point of view of biblical material. Humanism not only focuses its interest on man; it also displays confidence in - or at least reliance on --man's capacity to confront human life and cope with its problems. Of course there must be some qualification to so bald a statement. Some expressions of humanism exhibit magnificent confidence in man and his self-reliance. Others are more skeptical, and still others are frankly pessimistic about man's capabilities and, consequently, his fate. Yet they are nonetheless humanistic. Optimistic humanism glories in its belief that man can handle his affairs, skeptical or pessimistic humanism accepts the verdict that man must handle his affairs.

This expanded definition returns us by a somewhat different route to the impasse mentioned earlier. Not only do the writers of the Old Testament portray God as the central actor on the earthly stage, but again and again they call attention to man's powerlessness and his need to rely totally on the Almighty in all affairs from statecraft to sickness.

Given such indisputable evidence, can any substantial elements in the Old Testament be adduced to reflect a genuine Hebrew humanism in terms of the definition set forth here? One important section of the Hebrew canon comes immediately to mind, the so-called Wisdom literature. Quite commonly the sages of Israel have been characterized as representatives of Hebrew humanism and their literary productions interpreted as humanistic documents. These judgments are sometimes questioned and, although I accept them in a broad sense, modifications and clarifications must be made if these vague generalizations are to become congruent with the witness of the texts themselves.7

Without reviewing in detail evidence I have discussed elsewhere I would simply assert that a number of scholars hold the view that the earliest strata of extant Wisdom materials in the Old Testament reflect a belief in man's innate capacity to get along in the world in which he finds himself, a confidence in reliance upon purely human abilities and instruments.8 Even if this assertion were true without exception or qualification, we would still be left with the possible - even probable - conclusion that such a point of view was representative of so tiny a minority as to be considered virtually unrepresentative in the long run. If even this questionable interpretation of the central thrust of the early Wisdom movement is not to be dismissed as an

research of Weinfeld into the backgrounds of Deuteronomy and its relationship to Wisdom traditions, though I wholeheartedly concur in the general course he is pursuing. See M. Weinfeld, "The Origins of the Humanism in Deuteronomy," JBL, LXXX (1961), pp. 241-247 and the works cited in n. 31, p. 247.

SFor a general review of the place of the Wisdom literature in the Old Testament see my "Where is Wisdom to be Placed?" JBR, XXXI (1963), pp. 275-282, and more recently, Roland Murphy, "Assumptions and Problems in Old Testament Wisdom Re- search," Catholic Biblical Quarterly, XXIX (1967), pp. 407-418.

8 Priest, op. cit., pp. 276 f. and the notes there cited.



314 JOHN F. PRIEST

interesting but aberrant formulation, hardly germane to the larger considerations of an investigation of the dominant thought world of the Old Testament, we must take seriously one of two alternatives, or perhaps a combination of the two.

One alternative is to propose that the influence of the Wisdom movement was much more pervasive at an early period than is generally allowed. I have

argued this point of view for a number of years, and it is gratifying to see the recent vigorous revival of interest in the Wisdom literature. Though at this point there is no consensus, let alone unanimity, there is a clear movement toward seeing that those circles we normally term Wisdom had far more influence on the prophets, upon formulation of legal corpora, and upon historiography than was imagined by the previous generation.

Pursuit of this research, however, led to a dilemma of definition when it became apparent that there was no unitary tradition that could universally be termed Wisdom. 9 The scope of the material that I, and others, found necessary to include under that general rubric became so broad as to become virtually meaningless. I remain convinced that it is not only legitimate but mandatory to broaden our understanding of those materials that may properly be characterized Wisdom. I am equally convinced that there was a tradition, or better a perspective, that made an over-all contribution to the development of all Old Testament thought - including Wisdom - and that this perspective is most properly called humanism.

Public clarity may be difficult because of my own prolonged ruminations on the problem, and the observations I am about to make in order to justify calling certain material in the Old Testament humanistic and the perspective from which they came humanism may be rejected as an artificial tour deforce. However, I believe there is a way legitimately to include the unimpeachable textual witness to the centrality of Yahweh as the chief actor in much of the Old Testament within a framework that can still be called humanism. It is my conviction that the exposition given here is not only faithful to the Old Testament, but is in fact demanded by it.

II

Humanism, in the sense employed in this paper, depends upon rational analysis of human experience, all human experience. For much contemporary humanism this implies that only experience susceptible to sense-perception -

broadly or narrowly construed - is allowable. But can we so limit perceptual experiences? I think not.

The experiences of the noumenal, of the divine, of Yahweh if you will, were just that- experiences. In dealing with the data of the world the Hebrew, conditioned by his historical and cultural milieu, was open to a

9 See my earlier reservations, ibid., pp. 281 f., esp. n. 38. Cf. also Murphy, op. cit., pp. 410 f.




dimension of experience which he could not but designate as the presence and the activity of Yahweh. To put it so bluntly that even I fear the heavens may open with wrath, Yahweh was interpreted as another, albeit highly significant, datum of human experience. Hebrew man, again as a result of his historical and cultural conditioning, was predisposed to think in terms of God in relationship to the totality of human experience. But - and this is my point - God was one of many data available to him to be assessed, evaluated, responded to. Thus, as all theology must be, Hebrew theology was primarily anthropology, or as I prefer to say, sociology. There may have been unreflective theologians in Israel as there are such now, but in the main, Hebrew theology itself was developed from a broadly based humanistic enterprise.

What evidence can be produced to justify such a statement? Although I assume some latitude is permissible in a presidential address, the methodology of Old Testament study requires at least a modicum of textual support. One fruitful line of investigation would be a re-examination of the strands in the Pentateuch isolated in Pfeiffer's S and Eissfeldt's L. Though I share many reservations about the ultimate value of obsession with the minutiae of documentary analysis, the hints that these materials exemplify a "secular," "anti-religious," - dare we now say "humanistic"? - tendency should be pursued afresh from the perspective that underlies this paper.

A more important avenue of approach will probably lie in a fresh investigation of the role played by observation of the natural world in shaping the over-all Hebrew world view. Attention may be called to a comment of von Rad, who certainly stresses the centrality of theology in the Old Testament:

"For a long time, however, no adequate attempt was made to record this fact that the Old Testament relates everything to history with the general world view of ancient Israel. The greater part of what the Old Testament has to say about what we call nature has simply never been considered. If I am right, we are nowadays in serious danger of looking at the theological problems of the Old Testament far too much from the one-sided standpoint of an historically conditioned theology."'1

The traditional denigration of the significance of Nature in Hebrew thought, precipitated by an understandable desire to stress the break between Israel and her neighbors who propounded a world view predicated upon a natural rhythmic cycle, simply cannot be sustained.

The Hebrews were interested in natural phenomena, in and of themselves, and for what they could illuminate vis d vis man's existence. In this connection we shall certainly have to take more seriously the fundamental role of the doctrine of creation in Hebrew theology and I would suggest that any serious promulgation of a doctrine of creation rests ultimately upon the humanistic enterprise.

Still more importantly, however, more important because it joins issue

10 G. von Rad, "Some Aspects of the Old Testament World View," The Problem of the Hexateuch and Other Essays, New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966, p. 144.



316 JOHN F. PRIEST

directly with the current over-weening interest in Heilsgeschichte, is a fresh investigation of the relationship between what I am calling humanism and the undeniable Hebraic interest in history.

It is today generally conceded that the most significant formulation of Hebrew theology rests upon the conviction that history is meaningful, indeed the primary medium through which Yahweh made the self-disclosure of his will and purpose. For the present at least, I shall not deny this, but I shall contend strenuously that Hebraic theological reflection on the meaning of history rested upon a prior interest in historiography and literary productions resulting from that interest.11

To be more explicit, though it is possible that certain brief liturgical formulae alluding to the historical nature of Israel's faith12 were in use at some Israelite cult centers in the pre-monarchical period, it is hardly to be questioned that the first extensive historico-theological production of Israelite thought is in the work of the Yahwist.13 When did the Yahwist work? Where did he work? Why did he work? These are questions with which I cannot deal in detail in this paper, but they are questions centrally germane to the issue of Hebrew humanism. Somewhat oversimply, let me say that I am persuaded that the Yahwist wrote in the Solomonic period in Jerusalem, and that he wrote to provide a theological interpretation of the history of his people from their earliest memory to his own day.

The Yahwist seems to have drunk deeply at the wells of the humanism of his time. I would hesitate, however, to describe his perspectives as seeing "the history of Israel [as] a venture in humanity,"14 noting that however much he was cognizant of and indeed sympathetic to the humanistic perspective, his work is more properly assigned to the realm of theology. Yet I would insist with equal vigor that his theological reflections upon the meaning and significance of history would have been impossible apart from the out- burst of humanistic interest in history which began to flourish just before his

11 See, provisionally, my suggestion, op. cit., p. 281 and notes 36 and 37. 12 Cf., e. g., the work of von Rad in "The Problem of the Hexateuch," op. cit. His

point of view is succinctly summarized in a comment on Deut. 26:5-11. "The historical period compressed in this outline of the events corresponds to that of our great source documents of the Pentateuch, except that it confines itself to noting the most essential and basic facts. The possibility of considering it on that account as a subsequent abbreviation of those fuller outlines cannot be ruled out in itself. However, we come across several of such short historical summaries in quite different literary contexts as well. Hence the conclusion is more natural that there has been preserved in these summaries of salvation history the earlier and more original form of an historical outline which we possess in a much more fully developed form in the sources of the Pentateuch." Deuteronomy, Phila- delphia: Westminster Press, 1966, p. 158.

13 This denies the validity of the point of view which asserts that all extant literary documents in the Old Testament are exilic or later. However important the stress on oral tradition is as a corrective to overly rigid schemes of literary analyses, the presence of a J (E?) stratum in relatively fixed form by 900 B. C. seems to be one of the assured results of Old Testament criticism.

14 H. H. Hirschberg, Hebrew Humanism, Los Angeles: California Writers, 1964, p. 41.




day. It is generally accepted that intellectual interests in Israel developed rapidly in the Davidic and early Solomonic periods.

To cite von Rad once again - for he certainly grinds no axe for humanism:

The early monarchic period saw the abandonment of many patriarchal traditions, but it also saw a wholly new departure in spirituality, a kind of "enlightenment," an awakening of spiritual self-consciousness. Men became aware of their own spiritual and rational powers, and whole new dimensions of experience opened up before their eyes, inwardly as well as outwardly. They were dimensions of which the faith of their forefathers had taken no account.'5

To put it as succinctly as possible: The view of history widely accepted as that which is unique with Israel - Heilsgeschichte to use the commonly employed though not commonly understood term - is itself dependent upon prior Israelite developments in the field of historiography. These developments are themselves directly related to those dimensions in Israelite life and thought which may most properly be called humanism.16 Again Hebrew

theology is seen as necessarily posterior to Hebrew humanism.17 At this point a somewhat different question can legitimately be raised.

Even if one grants that there was in Israel - as among all peoples ancient and modern - a basic interest and concern for man, was there in Israel the

type of thought that could analyze experiences in such a fashion as to produce humanistic material which must reflect rational processes? To put it another

16 G. von Rad, "The Joseph Narrative and Ancient Wisdom," The Problem of the Hexateuch, op. cit., p. 293.

16 The legitimacy of this assertion must finally be proven or disproven on the basis of detailed exegetical analysis. The program involved may be stated briefly to indicate my line of thinking. I propose that the Succession Narrative is properly to be understood as an

example of the kind of "humanistic" historiography being spoken of. Von Rad's carefully worked out contrary view, "The Beginnings of Historical Writing in Ancient Israel," The Problem of the Hexateuch, pp. 166-204, does not, at this juncture, convince me otherwise. That in the present form of the narrative there may already be a trace of incipient "theologizing" is possible, but its limited extent, compared with the Deuteronomic and

post-exilic narratives would tend to verify not deny the point here being made. At the moment I am still prepared to argue that even these traces are reflections of conventional cultural expressions rather than articulated theology as such. Subsequent exegetical work may, of course, alter this preliminary conclusion and I would welcome constructive criticism on this score.

17 In a discussion of this paper the charge, with perhaps a modicum of justification, was made that throughout I proceeded on a too formal and too rigid pre-suppositional basis. As one friend put it, "The long shadow of Hegel is all too apparent." It may be true that in concern for emphasizing the humanistic dimensions in Israel's thought, I have fallen victim to the obsession of chronological priority. Reflection may well lead me to modify the implication that humanism and theological formulation are mutually exclusive or that theological formulation is by necessity dependent upon a fully articulated humanistic tradition. Such a modification, however, would not alter the real center of the thesis here outlined. The result would be, as I see it, simply the recognition that there was possibly a mutuality and interpenetration of diverse ways of thinking about man and his world from the very beginning - and that too is a type of humanism.



318 JOHN F. PRIEST

way: Was there in Israel a way of thinking that reflected rationally upon the data of experience in such a manner as to provide the basis necessary for humanism as defined in this paper?

If we define philosophy by the canons of Aristotle there is by definition no Hebrew philosophy. But if we define philosophy as rational reflections

upon and systemization of human experience we have a horse of a different color. An honored predecessor of mine at The Hartford Seminary Foundation

strongly insisted that there was a "Hebrew philosophical genius"18 and if we accept his definition of reason as "independent thinking""19 and assume that reason is the sine qua non of philosophy in the broadest sense then a valid Hebrew philosophy does emerge.

One of the most significant contributions of Professor Albright has been his insistence that not all pre-Aristotelian thought is ipso facto pre-logical. His introduction of the middle term empirico-logical20 serves as a necessary corrective to acceptance of an Israelite world view based totally on mythopoeic modes of thinking, however important that notion is for our final judgments. However, with some temerity, I would complain that he gives away too much in insisting that Israel had not developed strictly logical thinking, because I believe he himself errs in tacitly assuming that all logical thought must follow the forms of Aristotelian logic.

This matter is not central to the present paper although it is part of my continuing concern.21 Nevertheless I would simply mention that it seems to me certain that thought which may properly be called logical lies behind a

passage like Genesis 8:20-22, which can be seen as a basis from which humanism emerges even though it is not necessarily to be read as a product of the humanistic tradition, at least in its final form.

Also the syllogisms implicit in casuistic law22 and the cause and effect

relationship operative in the prophets and above all in the Deuteronomic

history are cases in point. All of these presume a kind of thinking which in

my judgment can only be called logical. To summarize the argument to this point let me make the following

observations: 1. In ancient Israel there was a mode of thinking that operated in a

rational fashion to deal with the data of experience in a humanistic way. 2. There was a point of view that could view the historically and cul-

18 D. B. Macdonald, The Hebrew Philosophical Genius, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1936.

19 Ibid., p. 2. 20 W. F. Albright, From the Stone Age to Christianity 2nd ed., Garden City: Doubleday

and Co., 1957, pp. 7 f.; pp. 122-126; "The Place of the Old Testament in the History of Thought," History, Archaeology and Christian Humanism, op. cit., pp. 83-100.

21 A related matter for investigation, from the other side of the coin, would be study of the persistence of mythopoeic thought in Greek philosophical materials. Socrates' daemon and Plato's use of myth might well be useful starting points.

22 Cf. Albright, History, Archaeology and Christian Humanism, op. cit., pp. 97-99.




turally conditioned necessities of speaking of Yahweh as another datum of human experience.

Given these two assumptions one can go on to account for the centrality of Heilsgeschichte as being dependent upon a prior humanistic historical interest and contend for a larger role to be given to concern for Nature in Israelite thought. Above all, one can reasonably argue for the existence of what can only be called Hebrew humanism, present specifically in the traditions we label Wisdom, but by no means limited to them.

III

What then of skepticism and pessimism? To define skepticism is probably as difficult as arriving at the definition of humanism which so exercised us earlier in this paper. Here, however, I would accept as most useful the suggestion made by a former colleague that skepticism may best be understood as "an intellectually articulated challenge to the ultimate legitimations of society; that is, a radical questioning of the religious, philosophical or ethical presuppositions upon which society rests."23 Within the framework of this definition one seldom raises the question of skepticism in ancient Israel, for almost all that we know of ancient Israelite thought comes to us through the medium of the books of the Hebrew Bible which are themselves "official" statements legitimating that society.

Yet it is granted by all Old Testament scholars that at least a modest residue of literature which may only be called skeptical is to be found within the canon, albeit this is usually seen as a late development in Hebrew thought. I suspect that there was an informal kind of skepticism operative at all stages of Israel's history but it must be admitted that the formal, intellectual articula- tion does indeed come after the Exile. We cannot here go into the decisive impact which the exilic experiences exercised upon every dimension of Israelite thought and life, though such an analysis would be imperative in an expanded treatment of our present theme. Suffice it to say that the changes wrought by the Exile were of such a far-reaching nature that it was now possible for the legitimations which had undergirded Israelite society in the pre-exilic period to be called into question. Before we survey the manner in which those legitimations were called into question we must first indicate what we understand them to have been. Two themes stand out as fundamental in understanding the structure of pre-exilic Israel's life and thought: the notion of her being a covenant society, and the conviction that history is the arena within which the meaning of corporate and individual existence is to be realized.

23 The definition is from Peter L. Berger in a private communication. His recent book, The Sacred Canopy, Garden City: Doubleday & Co., 1967, received after this paper was completed approaches some of the questions here raised from a highly suggestive if dis- ciplinarily divergent point of view.



320 JOHN F. PRIEST

At a very early time (in my judgment in the Mosaic period itself) the re- quirements of covenantal loyalty to Yahweh included not only the horizontal dimension of steadfastness in the personal and institutional dealings of the Israelites with the fellow members of the covenant society but also an insistence that the acts and attitudes underlying the social, economic, and political life of the people were an inseparable part of their religious response to their God.

The function of Law, therefore, (indicated by the etymology of the Hebrew word Torah) was to provide guidance and direction to the Israelite in the fulfillment of his covenant obligations to Yahweh, both in direct cultic response and in the more indirect but no less important avenues of personal and social behavior. To put it concisely, ancient Israel attempted to express her understanding of being a covenant people by developing a society or- ganized totally around the notion that the whole of her life was a response to Yahweh, predicated upon his initial graciousness and directed by divinely given Law.

But Israelite society was marked not only by the belief that God had in the past given constitutive laws and commandments for the ordering of life but also by the fundamental conviction that he continued to act directly in the ongoing life of the nation. The world order effected by Yahweh was dynamic not static. This meant that God acted directly in human history and that there his will and purpose were to be apprehended.

Yahweh's concern for the affairs of men was not limited to the great decisions of judges and later kings or the marches and counter-marches of armies. Israel believed that her God was also interested in the common life of the community and the individual as he lived in that community. On this level Yahweh's direction was primarily mediated through the divinely instituted priesthood which declared to the community and the individual the will of the God on specific matters. It is erroneous to think of the Israelite priests as primarily custodians of the altar and officiants in the formal cult.

Teaching, instruction, dispensing toroth and mishpatim (divinely given decisions) were equally parts of their task. Indeed the priesthood was the institutional witness of the Israelite conviction that all the affairs of men were conducted under the immediate aegis of the national God.

Yet however much the phenomena of the judges and divinely instituted monarchy on the one hand and the priesthood on the other bear witness to Israel's understanding of the historical nature of her God, the clearest testi- mony to that faith lies in the peculiar phenomenon of Israelite religion, the prophetic movement. While we cannot here even sketch a brief history of that movement, it is crystal clear that though individual prophets differed to a marked degree their fundamental focal point was the unshakable conviction that God spoke directly to men in history and that his primary concern was for responsible action by those men in their history. Sometimes the prophets dealt with matters of international concern, sometimes with the conduct of a king with a peasant in an argument over a vineyard, sometimes simply




with matters of economic probity or the sanctity of the legal system. In

every case the prophets were guided by their belief that God was acting in

history and that history, both national and personal, was charged with ultimate significance. It is no exaggeration to call the prophets the inter-

preters of the mystery of history. They are eloquent witnesses to the conclusion that the notion of a directly intervening God was one normative

expression of Hebrew faith. We may now summarize the determinative elements in Israel's pre-exilic

world outlook. The people understood themselves as covenant society with the whole of their institutional life based on divinely sanctioned customs and commandments, compliance with which was prerequisite for a stable and secure existence. Order in the created world and in societal life depended upon obedience to the pattern divinely instituted by Yahweh.24 Further, Israel held a view of history that saw in the outworkings of history the

purposeful activity of their God. These two elements are not necessarily intimately related. Other societies with which Israel was familiar were based on a view quite similar to the Hebrew notion of the divinely ordered

society without viewing history in anything like the Hebraic understanding. The distinctive synthesis of the pre-exilic Israelite world view resulted from the fusing of these two ideas into an indivisible unity.

The bifurcation of this fusion during and after the Exile opened the door to articulated Israelite skepticism, for under the influence of Ezekiel and his successors the sense of God's direct activity in history became more and more attenuated. Ezekiel's stress on the transcendence of Yahweh effectually minimized the sense of directness which had been a cardinal feature of pre- exilic thought and consequently gave a static quality to the laws which

previously had been viewed in a dynamic fashion. This static interpretation was already foreshadowed in Deuteronomy

which, in spite of its accentuation of the historical character of God's self- disclosure, had in fact set forth the principle that the limits of man's historical obedience to Yahweh could be contained in a written code. The letter kills even when it is written with the best of intentions, and the reduction of the divine sanctions of society to a book opened the way for the closing of the Israelite cosmos which in turn opened the door for the rise of articulated skepticism.

So long as the possibility of radical change existed with the legitimating view itself, no reason existed for an emergence of skepticism. After Ezekiel these legitimations took on a "once for all" quality and consequently were

legitimately open to persistent examination and evaluation respecting their validity. If they were intended to stand forever, could they actually stand the test of time? Present in Israelite thought was an intellectual tradition precisely prepared by a long history to undertake such an examination and

24 Cf. Helmer Ringgren, Israelite Religion, Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966, pp. 83 f., 134.



322 JOHN F. PRIEST

evaluation, the Wisdom movement, and two of the canonical books usually assigned to it clearly reflect the operative factors of such skepticism.

IV

It is neither possible nor necessary to go into a detailed exposition of the books of Job and Ecclesiastes.25 Of Job, leaving aside for the moment the

many critical problems which surround the book, let me make the following observation. A Hebrew sage desired to deal with a problem which he felt to be of paramount religious significance: the possibility of meaningfulness in human existence in a world where the sine qua non of such meaning, the

appearance of righteousness in human affairs, a righteousness guaranteed by a dependable God and an orderly universe, seemed to have disappeared. Consistent with the Hebrew way he proceeds to treat his subject in story form; to speak about men he selects a man as his vehicle. Both he and his readers were well acquainted with the fame of an ancient worthy, Job, noted for his righteousness. Further the author was familiar with a tale that re- counted the sufferings and restoration of this man. He used the gist of that

story, probably composing it in its present form himself, to set the stage for his own treatment. Sensing that there must be a multiplicity of partial answers to the question he sets, he retains the answer of an older tale, that suffering may be a testing from God, though for him that is at most a partial and tenuous response. The author, having set the stage through his own use of the older story, then turns the full sweep of his creative powers on the

problem in the poetic sections. Thus to deal most directly with this literary and religious masterpiece we must concentrate on the poem of Job, although in its present form the prose introduction provides the indispensable framework. To put it another way, the prose is necessary for the drama but its own message must not be allowed to obscure or mitigate the central theses which are in the poem.

It is often said that the question Job raises is "Why do the righteous suffer?" and that the answers of the friends are in fact a theodicy, main- taining the justice of God. There is truth in both these judgments, indeed the genius of the author is clearly in the diversity of problems upon which he touches and the multiplicity of positions to which he alludes through his central character and those who play the supporting roles, but I am convinced that neither of these notions, important as each is, accurately points to the author's ultimate purpose. To be sure Job begins with the question, "Why am I suffering?" and, since he consistently maintains his integrity, this pertains to righteous suffering. But very quickly Job moves from that question to the profounder inquiry, "Why am I?" Unexplained suffering is the key which unlocks the door, but the door is nothing less than the meaning

25 My views are set forth in a forthcoming project to be published by Salem Press.




of life itself, meaning which the profound skepticism of the author of Job has brought into serious question.

Why such skepticism? Precisely because the rigid insistence on cor-

respondence between principles and phenomena which had been held in a kind of dynamic tension by pre-exilic Israel's openness to historical movement simply proved to be false in human experience. Job wanted desperately to believe, but his own outlook made blind belief impossible and consequently led to a radically skeptical approach to the accepted presuppositions of his tradition.

What was the result? I am not convinced that any commentator, ancient or modern, has explicated the full meaning of this majestic work. I am not at all happy with my own interpretation,26 but in some way or other I do believe that the skepticism of Job finally freed men from a theological strait-

jacket and intentionally or unintentionally became the vehicle for a dynamic, even existential religious faith."' Here skepticism is the handmaid of religion.

The other great skeptical work in the Old Testament takes a form quite different from that of Job and issues in equally different conclusions and results on Israelite thought. In a sense this book presents a more complete view of an Israelite skepticism because it brings under consideration a basic element of Hebrew thought which is hardly mentioned in Job, the notion of

history as the medium of God's purposeful activity. Job questions primarily those legitimating concepts which insisted that the good life necessarily followed from obedience to the will of God as expressed in the formal religion and the insights of the wise men. History is considered only in so far as it is the history of the individual which demonstrates the validity, or in Job's view the invalidity, of the fundamental assumptions about the meaning of life. The skepticism of Job can be understood as an expansion of personal, existential

anguish to its philosophical and religious limits. Job is seeking a personal answer to a problem that emerged from personal experience, though it is evident that the author assumes that the "experience" of this one man can be applied on a universal scale. The author of Ecclesiastes, on the other hand, addresses himself to the larger life of men and to direct observations on the workings of the universe itself. That he bases his comments on his own observation and analysis, the traditional methods of the Hebrew sage, should not divert us from recognizing that the author, from the outset, is not just setting forth a private view, a personal memoir, but is projecting what he intends to be a public philosophy, and one which deals both with the lack of correspondence between the principles of Israelite thought and the phenomena of life and with the equally basic Israelite understanding of the meaning of history.

The skepticism of Koheleth ends, however much some commentators cry

26 For a preliminary statement, see The Hartford Quarterly, VII (1967), pp. 118 f. 27 The most persuasive modern presentation of this point of view is S. Terrien "Job"

The Interpreter's Bible, Vol. III, New York: Abingdon Press, 1954.



324 JOHN F. PRIEST

to the contrary, as pessimism pure and simple. To be sure there are certain

proximate goals to which man may attain, but in the end they are but vanity. All life is transitory28 and transitoriness is finally synonymous with meaning- lessness.29 Koheleth's skepticism is complete because he has lost all sense of

any inner dynamic to history which might transcend the apparent present contradiction of the principles enunciated by religion and wisdom. This loss of the possibility of any meaning in history is what turns his skepticism into pessimism.

Koheleth's skepticism becomes pessimism precisely because he is an Israelite and works from Israelite presuppositions. Had he truly been ac- culturated to the Hellenistic world his thought would have taken a quite different direction If there was to be any meaning in human life it had to derive from an ultimate conviction that there was a purposefulness to history. This purposefulness is lost for Koheleth because he sees no meaningful movement in history for the community and the individual's moment in

history is all too fleeting for any meaning to be discerned. It is at this point that we reach the real crux of his pessimism, the immutable fact of death which brings an end to all human aspiration, striving, and realization. Koheleth

recognizes and teaches that there are proximate goods which can be realized in life, some things are better than others, but death brings an end to all, "The fate of the sons of men and the fate of beasts is the same; as one dies, so dies the other" (3:19). Koheleth is a Hebrew, meaning must be historically experienced, but his view of meaning has passed far beyond the values which were dominant in old Israelite thought. Koheleth is asking for historical

significance which neither his formal religion, his tradition of wisdom or his own sense experience could provide. Thus his final verdict on life, all is

vanity, a vapour, emptiness, transitoriness.

V

Here two important questions can and should be raised. On the one hand, how does this description of skepticism and pessimism relate to the

previous outline of Hebrew humanism, and on the other how in the world can a man press humanism so strongly and then turn abruptly to a discussion of societal legitimations which are so blatantly theological in nature? Let me deal with the second question first.

I would maintain that both of the "theological" legitimations --the divinely sanctioned law and the Heilsgeschichtliche approach to history-- are the result of reflection upon previous humanistic products. Law emerges from concrete sociological situations and then is given divine sanction. History happens, is collected, sifted, remembered and then, and only then, reflected

28 This is the translation adopted by Macdonald, op. cit. 29 The observations on the course of natural phenomena in the first chapter of Ec-

clesiastes make this clear.




upon and interpreted in a theological way. That the legitimations of Israelite society questioned by skepticism were theological in nature is indisputable. That those theological conclusions are by necessity predicated on prior humanistic ventures I would insist.80

The answer to the first question is perhaps less problematical. When the resultant theological world view was empirically called into question, the same outlook which had provided the raw material for the theological formulation renewed its operation on the derived system. At this time the milieu resulted not in an optimistic humanism, but in an interrogative one - skepticism - and in some circles at least a negative one - pessimism.

The point I am making, however, resides neither in skepticism or pessimism. Rather I insist that both are understandable and legitimate developments of a point of view anterior to either, indeed anterior to the very formulations upon which the skeptical method and the pessimistic conclusions were founded.

In other words, Hebrew humanism is not a successor to theological affirmation, a successor which deteriorates quickly into skepticism and pessimism, but is the primary framework from which can and did emerge both the positive theological statements and the skeptical, even pessimistic, observations.

This humanism - Hebraic or otherwise - is not so much a system of belief as a way of looking at the world, a way of life, as significant to Israel as to any other age or clime. And I would maintain that this primary anthropological - or as I prefer sociological"8- outlook was a fundamental of the Old Testament world view, for Old Testament theology itself.

In conclusion I would make two observations; the first pertaining to the scholarly ends toward which I see the present programmatic approach leading, and the second more in the nature of a personal memoir.

On the one hand we may obtain a much more balanced understanding of the totality of Israel's intellectual adventure, even in the theological realm. For example, though Eichrodt has maintained that it is the covenant notion in Israel which creates "an atmosphere of trust and security"32 it may well be that the Israelite view of a trustworthy God, freed from the caprice implicit in a mythopoeic world view, has its source in the observations and ratiocina- tions of Hebrew humanism. Too, a new and meaningful correlation between the apparent Old Testament obsession with "salvation-history" and history

30 Research during the year since this address was given, particularly on the Succession Narrative, has caused me to lay less stress on the absolute chronological priority of articulated humanism. The main thesis still holds but humility implicit in n. 17 above has been heightened.

31 I shy a bit from "anthropology" lest it be inferred that the term reflects the understanding popularized by Bultmann. Pannenberg's critique of this individualistic, psycho- logically oriented understanding ("Hermeneutics and Universal History," pp. 132 f.) is one I fully share, though Pannenberg's own view of history remains problematical.

32 W. Eichrodt, Theology of the Old Testament, Vol. I. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1961, p. 38.



326 JOHN F. PRIEST

as such may result from a fresh investigation of the humanistic bases of Hebrew historiography.

On the other hand I would suggest that further study along the lines set forth above might open up new avenues for comparing the central thrusts of Hebraic thought with that other fundamental of Western civilization, the Greek. For too long we have listened to Tertullian, assuming that between

Jerusalem and Athens there was a great gulf fixed. Recognition that there was a type of logical thinking in ancient Israel --that "mytho-logical" thinking in Greece continued to exercise profound influence during and after the period of the philosophers - can and should provide us with new

ways of understanding our past and consequently our present. My own outlook - or if it be demanded, my theology - begins with the

conviction that the most searching questions about man in the totality of his

relationships emerge from below --the anthropological or sociological-- and then move to the above - the theological.

It may be self-delusion, but I am convinced that this is the outlook implicit in the Old Testament itself, for, taken as a whole, it seems to me that the Old Testament simply does not address itself to overt theological questions and answers. Rather it speaks about man, and to man, in society. Such

theology, then, as can be deduced from the Old Testament is first to be evaluated as anthropology or better sociology. With such theology I can live,

by such theology I do live, and through such theology I find the most useful model for contemporary theological discussion.

One final word (Hebrew ddbair, "thing"): Were it to be granted that the foregoing exposition of the presence of a genuine humanism in the Old Testament be accepted as tentatively arguable, could it still not be maintained that such humanism represents a weakness, a potential "failure of nerve"

compared with the more rigorous theological expositions of the faith of Israel? I would answer that the failure of nerve lies in the other direction.

Humanism is where we all live and if the inevitable concomitant of humanism be skepticism then let it be said that skepticism without religion is impossible but also that religion without skepticism is intolerable.

The language of faith must continue to utilize the three basic grammatical moods. Theology should affirm the declarative, humanism inform the im-

perative, and skepticism, even in its pessimistic dimension, supply the in-

terrogative. The power of the Old Testament is that it does all three so well.



humanism, skepticism, and pessimism in israel

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