Evangelicals and the Old Testament, Part 1: Rejoinder to Paul Copan on Violence in the Bible

Divine commands of violence and genocide in the Old Testament are a perennial problem for evangelicals. Paul Copan, a well known Christian apologist, has responded to my chapter on this topic in the recent publication Misusing Scripture: What are Evangelicals Doing with the Bible? In this rejoinder, I point out and explain the theological special pleading and ethical white washing that evangelicals frequently engage in due to their commitments to their views on the inspiration and inerrancy of the Bible.

See Synopsis of Misusing Scripture: What Are Evangelicals Doing with the Bible?
 

By Joshua Bowen
Digital Hammurabi
October 2023

In a recent post on the website “North American Mission Board,” Paul Copan offered a short critique of my recent chapter “‘Your Eye Shall Have No Pity’: Old Testament Violence and Modern Evangelical Morality,” in the edited volume Misusing Scripture: What Are Evangelicals Doing with the Bible?[1] In typical Christian apologetic fashion — and quite in keeping with the critiques that we offered in the volume — Copan attempts to offer a defense of divine commands of violence and genocide in the Hebrew Bible. In this brief rejoinder, I would like to point out some of the problematic arguments and positions that Copan sets forth.

Copan begins with a claim that I failed to address a particular aspect of one of the primary apologetic arguments concerning divine commands of violence. He writes, “…we observed that the descriptions of the Canaanite wars utilize various forms of hyperbole … Bowen doesn’t engage with this.”

This assertion is simply incorrect; I clearly stated that the Hebrew Bible likely utilized hyperbolic language in various contexts, which was in keeping with ancient Near Eastern literary practice. For example, I wrote, “The goal, therefore, is not to argue hyperbole does not exist in various OT passages, but rather to illustrate there are many narratives that rise and fall on the story’s non-hyperbolic nature.”[2] I go on to say, “There are obvious similarities between many genres found in the OT and other ancient Near Eastern writings, including different accounts of violence and conquest (Dozeman 2015, 67).[3] What we see in this section of Joshua is the author utilizing a method of writing similar to what was used by the Assyrians.”[4] Finally, I comment, “Assuming the biblical authors were at times utilizing ancient Near Eastern war rhetoric, and this use of hyperbolic language somehow creates a justification for the OT’s violent and genocidal descriptions…”[5] and “Even if true, this does not alleviate the problem of divine commands of violence and genocide.”[6] In other words, the point of my article is not to delve into the finer points of Lawson Younger’s arguments about the use of ancient Near Eastern war rhetoric in the biblical texts, which I suspect are used as literary devices in various texts.[7] Instead, my goal was 1) to point out the special pleading that evangelicals and Christian apologists must do in order to use the biblical texts to justify their positions on violence and genocide, and 2) to show that hyperbole cannot be applied as a blanket principle to all narratives.

Copan goes on to critique the “massive invasion” theory that is at odds with the archaeological data. The way that he does this, however, is somewhat confusing. First, he points out that cities like Jericho and Ai were military cities, which did not house civilians. He then argues that the Israelites did not occupy the cities that they attacked, but rather “returned to base camp at Gilgal.” Finally, he argues that the Canaanites vastly outnumbered the Israelites, attempting to downplay the numbers presented in Exodus 12:37, an argument that has been addressed elsewhere by other scholars (including myself).[8]

It would seem, therefore, that Copan is attempting to reconcile the lack of Late Bronze Age occupation and destruction in most of the cities described in the conquest narrative, not by challenging the archaeological data (quite the uphill battle), but rather by downplaying the nature of the conquest itself. That is, he seems to argue that 1) there weren’t that many Israelites; 2) they didn’t take civilian centers; 3) these were just raids rather than occupation.

The problem, however, is that his arguments are unfounded. First (and absolutely foremost), the elephant in the room for Copan is the utter dearth of Late Bronze Age remains that are required for a historically reliable reading of the conquest narrative. Arad, Heshbon, Dibon, Jericho, Ai, and Lachish (among others) are incredibly problematic for a historical reading of the biblical narrative. Most of these sites were either completely abandoned or barely occupied during the purported time of Moses and Joshua’s conquest. Copan’s attempt to downplay the extent of the violence or the scope of the invasion cannot overcome these issues.

Furthermore, with respect to his argument concerning the size of Israel, the narrative does in fact describe Israel as a massive horde; passages like Deuteronomy 20:1 and 7:7 (and for that matter Joshua 11:4: “And they [many of the kings in Canaan] went out, along with all their armies with them — a great multitude, like the sand on the seashore in multitude — along with very many horses and chariots”) do not disconfirm the many other passages (e.g., Exodus 12:37; 30:12-16; 38:25-26; Numbers 1:46; 2:32; 11:21-22; 22:1-5; 26:51; Nehemiah 9:22-23) that describe a huge mass of people.

Arguing that these weren’t civilian centers is also incredibly problematic, even if one were to only rely on the biblical narrative. Rahab and her entire father’s household (including brothers, sisters, parents, etc.) were those rescued from Jericho (Joshua 2:17-20; 6:22-25). Ai was home, specifically according to the text, to men and women (Joshua 8:24-27). And notice the summary statement of Nehemiah 9:25: “And they captured fortified cities and fertile land, and they took possession of houses full of every good thing, hewn cisterns, vineyards, olive groves, and many fruit trees. And they ate and were satisfied and became fat and enjoyed your tremendous goodness.” Of course, we know from the archaeological data that these cities, along with their hinterlands, were home to non-military personnel, except (with respect to the cities) during the Late Bronze Age, when these sites were either abandoned or scarcely populated at all.[9]

Finally, these were not simply raids performed by the Israelites; the text claims that they occupied these cities, and archaeology tells us that even the important site of Hazor was an Israelite city in the Iron Age. Indeed, even a cursory reading of Joshua 10-11 shows the extent to which the Israelites were said to have occupied the land. Copan’s arguments are all simply apologetic attempts to reconcile the data that do not conform to his preconceived interpretation of the text.

Copan then attempts to argue that there should be a significant distinction drawn between the presentation of the defeat of Sihon and Og in Numbers 21 (the more realistic account) and what is found in Deuteronomy 2-3 (the more embellished or hyperbolic account) which leads (somehow) to a less genocidal view of the divine commands. But does this really hold up under examination?

Copan’s point seems to be that the “real” account of what transpired against the Amorites can be found in Numbers 21:23-31. Let’s take a look at what the text says: “But Sihon did not allow Israel to cross through his territory. But Sihon gathered all his people and went out to meet Israel in the wilderness. And he came to Jahaz and fought against Israel. And Israel struck him with the edge of the sword and possessed his land, from Arnon to the Jabbok, as far as the sons of Ammon, because the border of the sons of Ammon was strong. So Israel took all these cities and Israel dwelled in all the cities of the Amorites, in Heshbon and in all its daughter cities … So Israel dwelled in the land of the Amorites. Then Moses sent out someone to spy Jazer, and they captured its daughter cities and dispossessed the Amorites who were there” (Numbers 21:23-25, 31-32).

I won’t spend a great deal of time on this, but let’s assume for the sake of argument that Copan is correct: Israel only killed enemy combatants and drove out the inhabitants of the rest of the Amorites from their homes without killing most or all of them. Is this really so much better for Copan? Notice that the act of “dispossessing” is not in any way peaceful: “And Moses said to them, ‘If you will do this thing, if you will arm yourselves before Yahweh for the war so that all your men armed for battle cross over the Jordan before Yahweh until he has dispossessed your enemies before you, so that the land is subjugated before Yahweh, then afterward you may return and be free of obligation before Yahweh and before Israel, and this land will be your inherited property before Yahweh’” (Numbers 32:20-22). Here we see armed men, ready for war, taking the land by force. Whether or not the text engages in hyperbole with respect to killing every last human being is somewhat beside the point, as far as a defense against violent commands is concerned.

Is this the apologetic argument that he wants to make? “Well, sure, they killed the king and all the men of fighting age, and then violently drove the people out of their homes and took over their land… but at least they didn’t kill all of them!” It reminds me of the movie The Lord of the Rings, where the Uruk-hai were driving the people of Rohan out of their homes, or in The Hobbit, where the dwarves are forced out of their mountain home by the dragon. Is this really the image of mercy that Copan is attempting to paint for us?

What Copan appears to miss in this analysis, however, is the meaning of words in their respective contexts. The use of the Hebrew haram/herem — as most words in any given language — can take nuanced meanings in various contexts. In fact, it seems likely that haram/herem itself may have developed in its meaning through the editorial history of the biblical texts. Nevertheless — as was my point in the chapter — in the contexts in which it appears in places like Deuteronomy, the word carries the meaning “to totally annihilate” or “to utterly destroy.” Whether this is used in a hyperbolic way in certain contexts is not the point. What is imperative, however, is to evaluate the individual contexts in order to determine if hyperbole is intended, and in certain narratives, hyperbole would render the story incoherent. This is the case, for example, in the stories of Rahab, Achan, and Saul with the Amalekites.

Finally, Copan engages with 1 Samuel 15, attempting to show that, because the Amalekites show up again in 1 Samuel (and in later passages, for that matter), the narrative cannot intend a total or all-encompassing idea. In my article, I briefly mention that there are editorial issues in the books of Samuel (that Copan will probably not allow for, as they would not align with his view of inspiration and authorship). These should be factored into the formation of the book of Samuel and even this story about Saul in relation to the stories about David. Nevertheless, it does not follow that, if the author of 1 Samuel 15 presented the Amalekite enemy as suffering total annihilation, this would necessitate that no further mention of the Amalekites could take place. The Amalekites themselves were a cosmic enemy of Yahweh and Israel, as described in Exodus 17:8-16 and Deuteronomy 25:17-19. And even though Copan wishes to dismiss the pastoral-nomadic nature of the Amalekites as presented in the biblical narrative, this likely provides for the group to arise as a “perennial” enemy of Israel and function as a foil for the Israelite kings in the narratives. In short, we must take the narratives as they stand in their coherent forms, rather than attempting to redefine terms and concepts to make the texts say what they clearly do not.

Perhaps what is most interesting about Copan’s critique of my contribution, however, is his almost complete disregard for the primary arguments in the chapter. As I mentioned above, the point of the contribution was to show how evangelical Christian apologists often want to use ancient Near Eastern parallels to their advantage (in this case, war rhetoric), while not acknowledging the special pleading that often comes along with such positions. In addition, many of the narratives require the total nature of the “ban” in order for the stories to make literary sense. Copan fails to seriously engage (if at all) with either of these two points. He simply makes vague and suggestive arguments that ultimately (at best) lead the reader to think, “Maybe we shouldn’t take the narratives to mean that they killed everyone.”

In the end, however, a much larger issue remains for Copan and those who make similar arguments. Let us, for the sake of argument, grant Copan all of his assertions. The biblical texts did not intend the reader to conclude that the Israelites killed EVERYONE. Therefore… what? Where would Copan go from here? Is it okay that the Israelites simply killed a LOT of people? Is it moral that they drove a large number of people from their homes as they displaced them from their cities? Is there no ethical issue that Saul and the Israelite army only killed a LOT of the Amalekites? It would seem that Copan must argue that the Israelites were justified in invading the land of Canaan, as they were acting on orders from their God. When it is pointed out that other ancient Near Eastern kings claimed to do the same (as I did clearly in my chapter), Copan must argue that these other kings were not justified, as their gods were not the one true God. This is the special pleading to which these arguments generally reduce.

Furthermore, Copan’s assertion that it was not genocide because the Israelites stopped short of killing everyone is fallacious. Genocide does not require every last person to be killed. Genocide can be defined as “the crime of intentionally destroying part or all of a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group, by killing people or by other methods.”[10] The fact of the matter is, even if hyperbole was used in particular passages, this does not mean that the writer meant anything other than many people were killed. As John Collins told me, “You see, hyperbole… in order to have hyperbole, you have to have something to hyperbolize. You know what I mean? And as you know well in the case of the Assyrians, they were hyperbolic. Sure. Does that mean that they didn’t kill anybody? Hell no!”[11]

I highly suspect that a Christian apologist would condemn the actions of the Neo-Assyrian kings who claimed to utterly destroy entire populations, although they likely only killed many (but not all) people. In other words, claiming that Sennacherib did not kill EVERYONE, and therefore his actions were justified, would not hold for Copan. Arguments like “they deserved to be destroyed or driven out because of their sin” or “it was hyperbolic language, so killing a lot of them was okay” will only work for Copan and other evangelicals when one presupposes that the deity that commanded such violent actions was the one true God, and therefore justified in issuing such divine judgments.