| "If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land." II Chronicles 7:14; |
U.S. NEWS & WORLD REPORT
Extraordinary insights from archaeology and
history The workday was nearly over for the team of archaeologists excavating
the ruins of the ancient Israelite city of Dan in upper Galilee. Led by
Avraham Biran of Hebrew Union College in Jerusalem, the group had been
toiling since early morning, sifting debris in a stone-paved plaza outside
what had been the city's main gate. Now the fierce afternoon sun was turning
the stoneworks into a reflective oven. Gila Cook, the team's surveyor,
was about to take a break when something caught her eye -- an unusual shadow
in a portion of recently exposed wall along the east side of the plaza.
Moving closer, she discovered a flattened basalt stone protruding from
the ground with what appeared to be Aramaic letters etched into its smooth
surface. She called Biran over for a look. As the veteran archaeologist knelt
to examine the stone, his eyes widened. "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed.
"We have an inscription!" In an instant, Biran knew that they
had stumbled upon a rare treasure. The basalt stone was quickly identified
as part of a shattered monument, or stele, from the 9th century B.C., apparently
commemorating a military victory of the king of Damascus over two ancient
enemies. One foe the fragment identified as the "king of Israel."
The other was "the House of David." The reference to David was a historical bombshell. Never before had
the familiar name of Judah's ancient warrior king, a central figure of
the Hebrew Bible and, according to Christian Scripture, an ancestor of
Jesus, been found in the records of antiquity outside the pages of the
Bible. Skeptics had long seized upon that fact to argue that David
was a mere legend, invented by Hebrew scribes during or shortly after Israel's
Babylonian exile, roughly 500 years before the birth of Christ. Now, at
last, there was material evidence: an inscription written not by Hebrew
scribes but by an enemy of the Israelites a little more than a century
after David's presumptive lifetime. It seemed to be a clear corroboration
of the existence of King David's dynasty and, by implication, of David
himself. Beyond its impact on the question of David's existence, however, the
discovery provided a dramatic illustration of the promise and peril that
come into play whenever the Bible is weighed on the scales of modern archaeology.
In one moment, the unearthing of an inscription or artifact can shed new
light or cast a shadow on a passage of Scripture and in the process shatter
the presuppositions of biblical scholarship. One kind of truth is confirmedñor
replacedñby another. In extraordinary ways, modern archaeology has affirmed
the historical core of the Old and New Testaments -- corroborating
key portions of the stories of Israel's patriarchs, the Exodus, the Davidic
monarchy, and the life and times of Jesus. Where it has faced its toughest
task has been in primordial history, where many scholars find the traces
of human origins obscured in theological myth. IN THE BEGINNING Ever since Copernicus overturned the church-sanctioned view of Earth
as the center of the universe and Charles Darwin posited random mutation
and natural selection as the real creators of human life, the biblical
view that "in the beginning God created the heavens and the Earth"
has found itself on the defensive in modern Western thought. Despite the
dominance of Darwin's theory -- that human beings evolved from lower life
forms over millions of years -- theologians have yielded relatively little
ground on what for them is a fundamental doctrine of faith: that the universe
is the handiwork of a divine creator who has given humanity a special place
in his creation. These apparently conflicting explanations have played a divisive role
for centuries. In modern times, the supposed incompatibility of the scientific
and religious views of creation have sparked bitter clashes in the nation's
courtrooms and classrooms. Often the modern debate has amounted to little
more than a shouting match between extremists on both sides -- fundamentalists,
who dismiss evolution as a satanic deception, and atheistic naturalists,
who assert that science offers the only window on reality and who seek
to discredit religious belief as ignorant superstition. Listening to some of the rhetoric today, one might easily assume that
the views espoused by creationists -- that God created the universe in
six 24-hour days, as a literal reading of Genesis 1 would suggest -- represent
the historic position of Christianity and of the Bible, and that it is
only in modern times, with the rise of evolutionary theory, that creationism
has come under siege. Yet this is hardly the case. As early as the 5th century, the great Christian theologian Augustine
warned against taking the six days of Genesis literally. Writing on The
Literal Meaning of Genesis, Augustine argued that the days of creation
were not successive, ordinary days -- the sun, after all, according to
Genesis, was not created until the fourth "day" -- and had nothing
to do with time. Rather, Augustine argued, God "made all things together,
disposing them in an order based not on intervals of time but on causal
connections." Sounding like an evolutionist, Augustine reasoned that
some things were made in fully developed form and others were made in "potential
form" that developed over time to the condition in which they are
seen today. Now, a growing number of conservative scholars embrace theistic evolution
-- a view that considers evolution, like all other physical processes known
to science, to be divinely designed and governed. They understand Genesis
as speaking more of the relationship between God and creation than as presenting
a scientific or historical explanation of how and when creation occurred.
"Creation and evolution are not contradictory," explains
Howard Van Till, a professor of physics and astronomy at evangelical Calvin
College in Grand Rapids, Mich. "They provide different answers
to a different set of questions." Much the same may be said of disputes over the meaning and intent of
the biblical story of the Flood. Those who take it as literal history believe
that God unleashed a worldwide deluge that destroyed all air-breathing
life on Earth except for those creatures taken aboard the ark in divine
judgment against a creation gone bad. When God finally allowed the waters
to recede, the ark was emptied and the world was repopulated by the creatures
that disembarked. Based on biblical genealogies, all of this would have
happened less than 10,000 years ago. While most biblical scholars consider the story of the Flood a myth,
many conservatives have little difficulty imagining that God could pull
off precisely what the Genesis story describes. As with the Creation narrative,
however, the evidence and arguments from science stack up overwhelmingly
against a literal interpretation of the Flood story. Where, for example,
would such a volume of water have come from, and where would it have gone
afterward? How would mammalian life have re-emerged on isolated islands
and landmasses that emerged from the receding flood waters? While some
scholars allow the possibility that a catastrophic regional deluge may
underlie the flood legends of the ancient Near East, conservatives argue
that there is, indeed, geological evidence consistent with a universal
deluge. But such arguments have found little support within the scientific
mainstream. AGE OF THE PATRIARCHS The book of Genesis traces Israel's ancestry to Abraham, a monotheistic
nomad who God promises will be "ancestor of a multitude of nations"
and whose children will inherit the land of Canaan as "a perpetual
holding." God's promise and Israel's ethnic identity are passed from
generation to generation -- from Abraham to Isaac to Jacob. Then Jacob
and his sons -- the progenitors of Israel's 12 ancient tribes -- are forced
by famine to leave Canaan and migrate to Egypt, where the Israelite people
emerge over a period of some 400 years. Modern archaeology has found no direct evidence from the Middle Bronze
Age (2000-1500 B.C.) -- roughly the period many scholars believe to be
the patriarchal era -- to corroborate the biblical account. No inscriptions
or artifacts relating to Israel's first biblical ancestors have been recovered.
Nor are there references in other ancient records to the early battles
and conflicts reported in Genesis. Moreover, some scholars contend that the patriarch stories contain anachronisms
that suggest they were written many centuries after the events they portray.
Abraham, for example, is described in the 11th and 15th chapters of Genesis
as coming from "Ur of the Chaldeans" -- a city in southern Mesopotamia,
or modern-day Iraq. But the Chaldeans settled in that area "not earlier
than the 9th or 8th centuries" B.C., according to Niels Peter Lemche,
a professor at the University of Copenhagen and a leading biblical skeptic.
That, he says, is more than 1,000 years after Abraham's time and at least
400 years after the time of Moses, who tradition says wrote the book of
Genesis. Yet other scholars, like Barry Beitzel, professor of Old Testament and
Semitic languages at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Deerfield,
Ill., are neither surprised nor troubled by the apparent lack of direct
archaeological evidence for Abraham's existence. Why, they argue, should
one expect to find the names of an obscure nomad and his descendants in
the official archives of the rulers of Mesopotamia? These are "family
stories," says Beitzel, not geopolitical history of the type one might
expect to find preserved in the annals of kings. While there may, indeed, be no direct material evidence relating to
the biblical patriarchs, archaeology has not been altogether silent on
the subject. Kenneth A. Kitchen, an Egyptologist now retired from the University
of Liverpool in England, argues that archaeology and the Bible "match
remarkably well" in depicting the historical context of the patriarch
narratives. In Genesis 37:28, for example, Joseph, a son of Jacob, is sold by his
brothers into slavery for 20 silver shekels. That, notes Kitchen, matches
precisely the going price of slaves in the region during the 19th and 18th
centuries B.C., as affirmed by documents recovered from the region that
is now modern Syria. By the 8th century B.C., the price of slaves, as attested
in ancient Assyrian records, had risen steadily to 50 or 60 shekels, and
to 90 to 120 shekels during the Persian Empire in the 5th and 4th centuries
B.C. If the story of Joseph had been dreamed up by a Jewish scribe in the
6th century, as some skeptics have suggested, argues Kitchen, "why
isn't the price in Exodus also 90 to 100 shekels? It's more reasonable
to assume that the biblical data reflect reality." FLIGHT FROM EGYPT The dramatic story of the Exodus -- of God delivering Moses and the
Israelite people from Egyptian bondage and leading them to the Promised
Land of Canaan -- has been called the "central proclamation of the
Hebrew Bible." Yet archaeologists have found no direct evidence
to corroborate the biblical story. Inscriptions from ancient Egypt contain
no mention of Hebrew slaves, of the plagues that the Bible says preceded
their release, or of the destruction of the pharaoh's army during the Israelites'
miraculous crossing of the Red Sea. No physical trace has been found of
the Israelites' 40-year nomadic sojourn in the Sinai wilderness. There
is not even any indication, outside of the Bible, that Moses existed. Still, as with the patriarch narratives, many scholars argue that a
lack of direct evidence is insufficient reason to deny that the Exodus
actually happened. Nahum Sarna, professor emeritus of biblical studies
at Brandeis University, argues that the Exodus story -- tracing, as it
does, a nation's origins to slavery and oppression -- "cannot possibly
be fictional. No nation would be likely to invent for itself . . . an inglorious
and inconvenient tradition of this nature," unless it had an authentic
core. "If you're making up history," adds Richard Elliott
Friedman, professor at the University of California-San Diego, "it's
that you were descended from gods or kings, not from slaves." Indeed, the absence of direct material evidence of an Israelite sojourn
in Egypt is not as surprising, or as damaging to the Bible's credibility,
as it first might seem. What type of material evidence, after all, would
one expect to find that could corroborate the biblical story? "Slaves,
serfs, and nomads leave few traces in the archaeological record,"
notes University of Arizona archaeologist William Dever. The dating of the Exodus also has long been a source of controversy.
The book of 1 Kings 6:1 gives what appears to be a clear historical
marker for the end of the Israelite sojourn in Egypt: "In the 480th
year after the Israelites came out of the land of Egypt, in the fourth
year of Solomon's reign over Israel, in the month of Ziv, which is the
second month, he began to build the house of the Lord." Biblical historians
generally agree that Solomon, the son and successor of David came to the
throne in about 962 B.C. If so, then the Exodus would have occurred in
about 1438 B.C., based on the chronology of the 1 Kings passage. That date does not fit with other biblical texts or with what is
known of ancient Egyptian history. But the flaw is far from fatal.
Sarna and others argue that the time span cited in 1 Kings -- 480 years
-- should not be taken literally. "It is 12 generations of
40 years each," notes Sarna; 40 being "a rather conventional
figure in the Bible," frequently used to connote a long period of
time. Viewing the 1 Kings chronology in that light -- as primarily a theological
statement rather than as "pure" history in the modern sense --
the Exodus can be placed in the 13th century, in the days of Ramses
II, where it finds strong circumstantial support in the archaeological
record. THE RULE OF DAVID The reigns of King David and his son Solomon over a united monarchy
mark the glory years of ancient Israel. That period (roughly 1000 B.C.
to 920 B.C.) -- described in detail in the books of 1 and 2 Samuel, 1 and
2 Kings, and 1 and 2 Chronicles -- marks the beginning of an era of stronger
links between biblical history and modern archaeological evidence. Before
the discovery of the "House of David" inscription at Dan in 1993,
it had become fashionable in some academic circles to dismiss the David
stories as an invention of priestly propagandists who were trying to dignify
Israel's past after the Babylonian exile. But as Tel Aviv University archaeologist
Israel Finkelstein observes, "Biblical nihilism collapsed overnight
with the discovery of the David inscription." In the aftermath, another famous ancient inscription found more than
a century ago has attracted renewed scholarly interest. The so-called Mesha
Stele, like the stele on which the Dan inscription is etched, is a basalt
monument from the 9th century B.C. that commemorates a military victory
over Israel -- this one by the Moabite king Mesha. The lengthy Tyrian text
describes how the kingdom of Moab, a land east of the Jordan River, had
been oppressed by "Omri, king of Israel" (whose reign is summarized
in 1 Kings 16:21-27) and by Omri's successors, and how Mesha threw off
the Israelites in a glorious military campaign. But the name of another of Mesha's conquered foes may lie hidden in
a partially obliterated line of text that, transliterated, reads b[ñ]wd;
the remainder of the inscription is missing. The French scholar André
LeMaire, after carefully re-examining the inscription, has suggested that
the line should be filled in to read bt dwd -- "beit David,"
or "house of David" -- a reference to the kingdom of Judah. "No
doubt," says LeMaire, "the missing part of the inscription described
how Mesha also threw off the yoke of Judah and conquered the territory
southeast of the Dead Sea controlled by the House of David." As significant as they are, these two inscriptions -- both still contested
-- remain for now the only extrabiblical references to David's dynasty.
And both were written more than a century after the reigns of David and
Solomon. Given the grandeur of the Israelite monarchy under the two kings
as described in the Bible, how could such an influential and popular regime
have attracted so little notice in ancient Near Eastern documents from
the time? The answer, suggests Carol Meyers, professor of biblical studies and
archaeology at Duke University, may lie in the political climate in the
region at the time, when, she says, "a power vacuum existed in the
eastern Mediterranean." The collapse of Egypt's 20th dynasty around
1069 B.C. led to a lengthy period of economic and political decline for
a nation that had exerted powerful influence over the city-states of Palestine
during the Late Bronze Age. This period of Egyptian weakness, which lasted
for over a century (until around 945 B.C.), saw a "relative paucity
of monumental inscriptions," says Meyers. "The kings had nothing
to boast about." Similarly, the Assyrian empire to the east was unusually silent from
the late 11th to the early 9th century B.C. regarding the western lands
it once had dominated. Assyria was preoccupied, says Meyers, with internal
turmoil following the death of one of the greatest of its early kings.
Another major power in the region, Babylonia, also was uncharacteristically
quiet. For centuries following a raid on Assyria in 1081 B.C., it seldom
ventured beyond its own borders, says Meyers, "and thus its records
would hardly have mentioned a new dynastic state to the west." The reign of David was a time of territorial expansion for the united
Israelite kingdom and was marked, according to the Bible, by a series of
military victories. Twice the Israelite armies repulsed invasions by the
Philistines, a belligerent horde of pagan marauders who occupied Canaan's
Mediterranean coastal plains. While the Bible depicts the Philistines
as a frequent nemesis of the Israelites, their name does not appear in
ancient nonbiblical sources before 1200 B.C. Some minimalist scholars
have suggested that the biblical stories of run-ins with the dreaded Philistines
were invented by priestly scribes in the middle of the 1st millennium B.C.
to dramatize the military prowess of the mythical Davidic dynasty. But modern archaeology has uncovered a wealth of information regarding
the Philistine "sea people" thoroughly consistent with their
portrayal in the Bible. For example, sources including numerous Egyptian
inscriptions indicate that the Philistines most likely originated in
the Aegean area, probably on the island of Crete. That fits with biblical
passages (Jeremiah 47:4 and Deuteronomy 2:23, for example) linking them
with Caphtor, a location most scholars identify with Crete. Additionally, the Bible depicts the Philistines as expert metallurgists,
and archaeologists have found material evidence that the Philistines were,
indeed, expert metalworkers. Trude Dothan, a Hebrew University archaeologist
who has excavated many of the Philistine sites, says this superior knowledge
no doubt gave them a military advantage in their early battles with the
Israelites. She notes that in the famous story of the duel between David
and Goliath in 1 Samuel 17, the giant Philistine warrior is described as
wearing a bronze helmet and bronze body armor and carrying a spear with
a shaft "like a weaver's beam" and with a head of iron. "The
Bible compares Goliath's spear to a weaver's beam," Dothan says, "because
this type of weapon was new to Canaan and had no Hebrew name." Once
again, the Bible and archaeology are in agreement. THE DAYS OF THE FALL OF THE TEMPLE Compared with the earlier eras of Old Testament history, the days of
the fall of the temple are a fleeting moment. A life span of just three decades and a public
career of only a few years leave a dauntingly narrow target for archaeological
exploration. Yet during the past four decades, spectacular discoveries
have produced data illuminating the story of Jesus and the
birth of Christianity. The picture that has emerged overall closely
matches the historical backdrop of the Gospels. In 1968, for example, explorers found the skeletal remains of a crucified
man in a burial cave at Giva'at ha-Mitvar, near the Nablus road outside
of Jerusalem. It was a momentous discovery: While the Romans were known
to have crucified thousands of alleged traitors, rebels, robbers, and deserters
in the two centuries straddling the turn of the era, never before had the
remains of a crucifixion victim been recovered. An initial analysis of
the remains found that their condition dramatically corroborated the Bible's
description of the Roman method of execution. The bones were preserved in a stone burial box called an ossuary and
appeared to be those of a man about 5 feet, 5 inches tall and 24 to 28
years old. His open arms had been nailed to the crossbar, in the manner
similar to that shown in crucifixion paintings. The knees had been doubled
up and turned sideways, and a single large iron nail had been driven through
both heels. The nail -- still lodged in the heel bone of one foot, though
the executioners had removed the body from the cross after death -- was
found bent, apparently having hit a knot in the wood. The shin bones seem
to have been broken, corroborating what the Gospel of John suggests was
normal practice in Roman crucifixions: "Then the soldiers came and
broke the legs of the first and of the other who had been crucified with
him. But when they came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead, they
did not break his legs" (19:32-33). While one later analysis drew
some different conclusions about how the man died, [some] similarities to the
biblical account were affirmed. The discovery also posed a counterargument to objections some
scholars have raised against the Gospels' description of Jesus's burial.
It has been argued that the common practice of Roman executioners was to
toss corpses of crucified criminals into a common grave or to leave them
on the cross to be devoured by scavenging animals. So it hardly seems feasible,
the argument goes, that Roman authorities would have allowed Jesus to undergo
the burial described in the Gospels. But with the remains of a crucified
man found in a family grave, it is clear that at least
on some occasions the Romans permitted proper interment consistent with
the biblical account. A find at another Jerusalem site added to the list of Gospel figures
whose existence has been verified by archaeology. Workers building a water
park 2 miles south of the Temple Mount in 1990 inadvertently broke through
the ceiling of a hidden burial chamber dating to the 1st century A.D. Inside,
archaeologists found 12 limestone ossuaries. One contained the bones of
a 60-year-old man and bore the inscription Yehosef bar Qayafa -- "Joseph,
son of Caiaphas." Experts believe these remains are probably those
of Caiaphas the high priest of Jerusalem, who according to the Gospels
ordered the arrest of Jesus, interrogated him, and handed him over to Pontius
Pilate for execution. A few decades earlier, the name of another key figure in the days
of Jesus turned up in the archaeological record: During
excavations in 1961 at the seaside ruins of Caesarea Maritima, the ancient
seat of Roman government in Judea, a 1st-century inscription was uncovered
confirming that Pilate had been the Roman ruler of the region at the time
of Jesus's supposedly crucifixion. Italian archaeologists working at the city's magnificent
Herodian theater found the inscribed stone slab in use in the theater's
steps. Experts say it originally was a 1st-century plaque at a nearby temple
honoring the emperor Tiberius. The badly damaged Latin inscription reads
in part, Tiberieum . . . [Pon]tius Pilatus . . . [Praef]ectus Juda[ea]e.
According to experts, the complete inscription would have read, "Pontius
Pilate, the Prefect of Judea, has dedicated to the people of Caesarea a
temple in honor of Tiberius." The discovery of the so-called Pilate
Stone has been widely acclaimed as a significant affirmation of biblical
history because, in short, it confirms that the man depicted in the Gospels
as Judea's Roman governor had precisely the responsibilities and authority
that the Gospel writers ascribed to him. THE ROAD AHEAD Modern archaeology may not have removed all doubt about the historical
accuracy of the Bible. But thanks to archaeology, the Bible "no longer
appears as an absolutely isolated monument of the past, as a phenomenon
without relation to its environment," as the great American archaeologist
William Albright wrote at midcentury. Instead, it has been firmly fixed
in a context of knowable history, linked to the present by footprints across
the archaeological record. Just as archaeology has shed new light on the Bible, the Bible in
turn has often proved a useful tool for archaeologists. Yigael Yadin,
the Israeli archaeologist who excavated at Hazor in the 1950s, relied heavily
on its guidance in finding the great gate of Solomon at the famous upper
Galilee site: "We went about discovering [the gate] with Bible in
one hand and spade in the other." And Trude Dothan notes that "without
the Bible, we wouldn't even have known there were Philistines." Much work remains for the archaeological explorers of the next century,
and many more mysteries of the Bible wait to be solved. Where, for example,
are the lost "Annals of the Kings" of Israel and Judah cited
as literary sources in the Old Testament book of 1 Kings, and the five
books of Papias mentioned in early church writings as a collection of the
sayings of Jesus? Will further discoveries of hidden scrolls from the
Dead Sea reveal new insights into the birth of Christianity? Scholars are
convinced there is much more out there waiting to be found. It's just a
matter of time. (From Is the Bible True? by Jeffery L. Sheler)
[Begin Quest for Ancient of Days ]
     
Greetings from the Editor of The Hope of Israel which is the United Hebrew Congregation's weekly news page of The Hope of Israel on the web. These news articles are produced by Michael Turner . If you would like to correspond with him or request back issues you can e-mail him at Michael Turner.
IS THE BIBLE TRUE?