In a post-9/11 world where the three dominant monotheistic religions appeal to the Bible (in some form or another) for authority, to whom the Bible belongs is a legitimate question. This is the inquiry that drives Jaroslav Pelikan's Whose Bible Is It? A History of the Scriptures Through the Ages. Pelikan, Sterling Professor Emeritus of History at Yale University and winner of the W. Kluge Prize for Lifetime Achievement in the Human Sciences, has contributed numerous significant volumes to the fields of history and religion, a tradition that remains unbroken with this volume.
Whose Bible Is It? is a timely historical introduction to the development, canonization, and appropriations of Scripture, primarily in light of Jewish and Christian traditions. Beginning with the oral tradition, Pelikan explores the importance and challenges of the spoken word as the foundation for the written canon. The first third of the book discusses the Old Testament ("First Testament") or Hebrew Tanakh. With brief, lucid explanations of key terms, Pelikan helps the reader gracefully walk (rather than stumble) through the history of the Torah (the Pentateuch), the Nevi'im (the prophets and historical books), and the Kethuvim (other writings).
From the Greek Septuagint to the Latin Vulgate to modern English translations, Pelikan provides an ample overview of the Bible's development through the centuries. The Jewish Diaspora gave birth to a Greek translation, the form of Scripture most familiar to the writers of the New Testament (or "Second Testament"). As he does with the Old Testament, Pelikan addresses the traditional difficulties of New Testament canonicity (e.g., the authorship of Hebrews and the rejection of Revelation by the early church). His one-chapter introduction to the New Testament, though an impressive sprint, covers too much ground. Pelikan offers helpful comparisons-"What the Torah is to the Tanakh," he explains, "the Gospels are to the New Testament" (104)-
More than a third of the book is spent on the development of the Bible as a completed canon, in relation to both Christian and Jewish biblical interpretation. Medieval allegorical interpretation led to the Christianization of the Old Testament and to the rise of Kabbalah (a form of Jewish mysticism recently popularized by Madonna). Renaissance humanism called for a return to the sources, and with that came a revival of the original languages, advances in translation, and the appropriation of biblical themes in art and music. The Protestant Reformation insisted that the Bible alone is the Christian's authority. This appeal, coupled with the invention of the moveable type printing press, took the Bible from its solitary stand in the chancel and put it in the hands of any common laborer who could read, a development that spawned new sects, political tension, and wars. Pelikan does not leave the reader wondering, given the instability this movement induced, why Enlightenment thinkers rejected authority, why Thomas Jefferson deleted sections of the Bible, how methods of higher criticism became popular, and why fundamentalism lurched so boldly into the early twentieth-century American scene. Because Pelikan weaves such a broad tapestry, it is easy to uncover loose threads. A Lutheran scholar turned Orthodox, and a regular contributor to ecumenical discussions between Jews and Christians, Pelikan proves himself sensitive to all theological concerns. He raises just enough doubt about Jewish and Christian interpretations to encourage both to work together "studiously" toward a fuller-orbed view of Scripture (251).
For example, his discussion of Hebrew vowel points offers a valuable example of the serious effect they can have on biblical interpretation and theological dogmatism. Psalm 22, he points out, reads "like lions [they maul] my hands and feet" with the Massoretic vowel points (75). But a retroverted version of the Septuagint (from Greek back to Hebrew) reads "they have pierced my hands and feet" (76). The former translation calls into question this passage as a messianic prophecy, while the latter translation provides Christian interpreters with prophetical fodder for proving Christ's divinity. Pelikan's critical assessment therefore serves as a tool to aid the reader in understanding why there are legitimate arguments about Jesus as messiah between "Jews and Christians, during the Middle Ages and well beyond" (76). His purpose is to promote humble and civil discussion.
While both Jewish and Christian traditions are "distinct," he argues, they are "not necessarily contradictory and sometimes even complementary," in their interpretations (250). As long as one understands that Scripture has multiple senses (as the Medievals approached it), there is no reason, argues Pelikan, that Jews and Christians cannot find common ground. "To put it directly," he continues, "a passage of the Bible does not mean only one thing, and the vain dispute over whether these are 'your Scriptures' or 'our Scriptures' is often an argument between two (or more) of these multiple senses" (250). This and other similar statements indicate his determination to please the pluralist.
Whose Bible Is It? supplies a valuable panoramic view of the history of the Bible. The reader leaves Pelikan's volume with an interesting introduction not only to its several thousand years of history, but also the challenging task faced by interpreters.
However, like any book that aggressively tackles a broad subject in a few pages, it suffers from oversimplification. It is possible to confuse the writer's theological opinion with historical fact, and perhaps even conclude that Protestant Evangelicals are simply splitting interpretive hairs.
Pelikan's ecumenism eventually lands him in a postmodern quagmire. Why choose Christianity over Judaism, or vice versa? Since both are equally valid, there are no benefits to accepting one over the other; therefore, why accept either? Which begs the question, what difference does it make whose Bible it is?
