Violence

I can agree with much of Jerome Creach ( Violence in Scripture: Interpretation: Resources for the Use of Scripture in the Church ) says about the Bible and violence. Violence is an intrusion into a peaceable world, “a disease that breaks out and spoils everything” (38-39). God intends to bring an end to violence, and shows that intention by making war against “anticreators” like Pharaoh (79). Richard Hays to the contrary, there is no tension between Old and New Testaments on this point (226-231) because the Old Testament itself is a call to non-violence.

I can agree with much of what Creach says because he never defines what he, or the Bible, mean by violence. On the last two pages, he makes it clear that violence is (equated with? associated with?) “human coercion” (238), but throughout the book he writes as if “violence” has a perfectly transparent, universal definition, as if everyone knows violence when one sees it. Arendt, Sorel, Zizek – not to mention Yoder and Hauerwas – would be more than mildly surprised.

On details, Creach’s book has some good moments. When Aaron’s rod-serpent “swallows” those of Pharaoh’s magicians, it anticipates the Song of the Sea, where Pharaoh is “swallowed” into the earth (15:12). The plague of flies “ruins” Egypt, alluding to the ruination of the world prior to the flood (82-3). Against Siebert ( Disturbing Divine Behavior: Troubling Old Testament Images of God ), he concludes, understatedly but accurately, that “the complete separation of the of the real God from the textually embodied God seems misguided” (48). He does a good job of refuting Hays’s ( The Moral Vision of the New Testament: Community, Cross, New Creation, A Contemporary Introduction to New Testament Ethics ) claim that the New Testament is morally superior to the Old. He has some helpful things to say about imprecatory Psalms, like “the psalms that pray for vengeance are actually praying for God to address violence done to the poor and lowly” and “imprecation has its proper setting in the struggle for justice to be done for the powerless” (194).

Overall, though, the book sidesteps virtually every challenge. Some biblical depictions and endorsements of “violence” are found in etiological myths, or are “figures” of God’s opposition to violence. Many passages he ignores altogether. He slips quickly past the post-flood “by man shall his blood be shed,” a passage classically used as a defense of capital punishment. Creach certainly disagrees, but we don’t know his reasons because he only cites the passage without comment. He’s right that God calls Abraham to “take the lead in preventing violence by promoting ‘righteousness and justice’” (45), but doesn’t stop to acknowledge that Abram has 318 fighting men that he could deploy at a moment’s notice (Genesis 13). He sees the connection between the Amalekites and the book of Esther, but you wouldn’t know from Creach that Ahasuerus answers Esther’s petition by giving the Jews permission to defend themselves by arms. Incredibly, he has almost nothing to say about David, the warrior after God’s own heart. David is an “ideal king” because, unlike Saul, he is totally devoted to God in the struggle with the Amalekites.

The result is a book that edges away from merely “unsatisfying” toward the pole of “dishonesty.” Scripture has much to say about violence, and there’s a need to explore what it says with more depth and nuance. But we have a right to expect that a book bearing the title Violence in Scripture will deal with the issue comprehensively. And we might entertain the fond hope that such a book will let the Bible set its own terms.