Theophany

John W. Loftus said:

“Where is the word ‘anthropomorphism’ in the Bible such that we'll know how to interpret a passage properly when it is ‘red flagged’ with that word? I don't have such a Bible, do you? The only reason you call these things anthropomorphic (and phenomenal) is because you are misreading the texts in their original setting based upon later or hindsight understandings (i.e.,you're doing eisegesis, not exegesis).”

1. The linguistic objection is puerile and disingenuous. Loftus doesn’t hesitate to employ extrabiblical terminology to characterize the Bible. Consider his recent reference to “the Anchor Bible Dictionary entry ‘Cosmogony, Cosmology.”

Suppose we are to ask him “Where is the word ‘cosmology’ [or ‘cosmogony’] in the Bible such that we'll know how to interpret a passage properly when it is ‘red flagged’ with that word? I don't have such a Bible, do you?”

2.He continues to confound distinct categories even after he’s been corrected. We aren’t using “phenomenal” language to explain Exod 33. Phenomenal language is relevant to Joshua’s Long Day, not to Exod 33.

3.Jason, Gene, and I have now given many examples in which we interpret the passages in question in light of comparative Semitics. So we have answered Loftus on his own grounds.

“Tell me this. Start reading the canonical Bible from the beginning. Tell me where you read the first statement that clearly specifies that God is a spirit, with no possible meaning oherwise. That should clear this whole thing up.”

1.Notice that Loftus is now moving the goal-post. His original argument was that Scripture clearly depicts God as corporeal. Now he’s shifting the burden of proof: Does the Bible clearly depict God as incorporeal?

He is also attempting to impose on us a duplicitous standard: we must offer an interpretation which disallows any other possible meaning.

Needless to say, Loftus would not like us to hold him to the same apodictic standard of proof.

2.But, by all means, let us start reading the canonical Bible from the beginning. Suppose, for the time being, we confine ourselves to the Pentateuch.

If you read the Pentateuch you encounter a number of theological motifs. As it bears on the immediate issue at hand, we have, on the one hand, the theme of the deus absconditus.

God is a hidden, invisible God—a God who conceals himself. This reflected in the aniconic prohibitions against idolatry.

This is also reflected in the fact that direct contact with God is fatal because God is holy and we are sinners.

On the other hand, we have the theme of the deus revelatus. The God who reveals himself by word, sign, and deed.

A bridging device between the deus absconditus and the deus revelatus is a theophany. A theophany mediates between the ethical and metaphysical transcendence of God, on the one hand, and the covenantal presence or immanence of God, on the other hand.

A theophany both reveals and conceals. It isn’t God in himself, but rather, a visible manifestation of God. In Ezekiel’s classic insulating formula, a theophany is the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord (Ezk 1:18).

In the Pentateuch, theophanies are metamorphic. That is to say, they take a variety of forms.

One common form is the angelophany. There are many angelic apparitions in the Pentateuch. Not every angelophany is a theophany, or vice versa, but many are.

Angels often take the form of men, although they can also project a numinous aura. Or they can present a tetramorphic aspect, in the case of the cherubim and seraphim.

The Angel of the Lord is both an angelophany and a theophany. We could call it a theophanic angelophany. Indeed, many interpreters view it as a Christophany.

A theophany can also take the form of an inanimate force of nature like fire and lightning, clouds, whirlwinds, and earthquakes.

An attentive reader (or hearer) of the Pentateuch would pick up on these dialectical motifs.

Of course, Loftus doesn’t believe in angels. He regards an angelophany as mythological. And he interprets the Bible as mythological.

But in so doing he’s guilty of the very thing he accuses us of doing. He is reinterpreting the Bible through an anachronistic hermeneutical lens.

The Mosaic author (or post-Mosaic “redactor,” if he prefers) of the Pentateuch didn’t regard angels as mythological beings.

An ancient Jewish reader didn’t regard angels as mythological beings.

So when Loftus reinterprets the Bible as mythology, he is “misreading the texts in their original setting based upon later or hindsight understandings (i.e., doing eisegesis, not exegesis).”

He’s coming to the text from the perspective of 19C comparative mythology, higher criticism, modern philosophy, science, psychology, sociology, &c. This does not reflect the original narrative viewpoint. Just the opposite.