Jagged cliffs of Mt Sinai theological reading of the book of the covenant

Interpretation, July 1996 v50 n3 p251(13)

The jagged cliffs of Mount Sinai: a theological reading of the Book of the Covenant (Exod. 20:22-23:19). Dennis T. Olson.

Scholars often attempt to explain away the tensions and jagged edges the reader can observe in the text and thought-world of the Book of the Covenant. If one works with these tensions, however, one stands to gain profound insight into the ethics and theology of this book.

The Pentateuch contains three distinctive collections of laws: the priestly laws in Leviticus, Exodus, and Numbers (including the "Holiness Code," Lev. 17-26); the deuteronomic laws in Deuteronomy, and the Book of the Covenant (also called the "Covenant Code") in Exodus 20:22-23:19. The Book of the Covenant is widely regarded as the most ancient of these legal collections. Its name derives from the scene where Moses descends from Mount Sinai with the stone tablets containing the Ten Commandments and an additional set of laws: "He took the Book of the Covenant," the text narrates, "and read it in the hearing of the people; and they said, 'All that the Lord has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient'" (Exod. 24:7).

Most scholars agree that these laws do not date to the Mosaic period of the wilderness but originate for the most part sometime after the settlement in Canaan and perhaps before the rise of the monarchy in Israel. The interest these laws exhibit in issues related to farming and domesticated animals presumes a settled agricultural life in the land of Canaan. Some argue that they predate the rise of kingship and the Jerusalem Temple, since no mention is made in them of a centralized government or cult. They pertain to worship, slavery, murder, human violence, death caused by animals, theft of domestic animals, agricultural damage, safekeeping of property, loaning of farm animals, the regulation of sexuality, the treatment of resident aliens and the poor, the practice of justice, and the proper observance of the sabbath and religious festival days.

The Book of the Covenant is found within a larger literary context associated with the covenant God makes with Israel at Mount Sinai (Exod. 19-24). This Sinai narrative stands between the other key narrative events in the Book of Exodus: the exodus of Israelite slaves out of Egypt (chaps. 1-15) and Israel's idolatrous worship of the golden calf and its aftermath (chaps. 32-34). The Sinai material in Exodus 19:1-24:18 has the following structure:

* Israel's arrival at Mount Sinai (19:1-25)

* The Ten Commandments spoken directly by God to the people (20:1-17 cf. 19:9; 20:1; Deut. 5:22-33)

* The people's request that Moses function as mediator for any further words from God (20:18-21)

* The Book of the Covenant mediated by Moses to the people (20:22-23:19)

* God's promise of an "angel" to lead Israel's conquest of the promised land of Canaan (concerning the angel: "do not rebel against him, for he will not pardon your transgression") (23:20-33)

In their present literary context, the laws of the Book of the Covenant function as an interpretative extension of the Ten Commandments into various details of the community's life. The Ten Commandments (Exod. 20:1-17) are clearly more comprehensive, broad, and abstract than are the covenant laws (Exod. 20:2223:19). The polished and timeless qualities of the Ten Commandments have enabled its imperatives to speak directly and immediately to countless generations in diverse cultures throughout the history of both the Jewish and Christian traditions. By the same token, the laws in the Book of the Covenant are much more specific and time-bound. They seem more rooted in their ancient place and culture and less amenable to direct translation into contemporary life.

The jumble of legal forms, functions, themes, and values that make up the Book of the Covenant creates for the reader a sense of tension and thematic fractures that defy easy resolution. Examples abound. The list of laws that begins in Exodus 20:22 is unexpectedly interrupted by a superscription that seems to mark the beginning of another collection of laws: "These are the ordinances that you shall set before them" (21:1). Religious laws against idolatry (22:20) suddenly intrude into more secular laws about sexual relationships, oppressing the poor, and lending money (22:16-19, 25-27). The entire sequence of laws in chapters 21-23 appears to many to be a hodgepodge with little overarching coherence or organization. Even such a basic issue as the purpose of these laws seems unresolved. Whereas some laws provide direct and detailed guidelines for adjudication and punishment and appear to be intended for use in a human court of law (21:1-22:17), other laws contain numerous motive clauses that seem more intended for persuading, exhorting, and teaching a community about its values and actions as a direct and personal word from God (20:22-26; 22:1823:19).

Some of the laws in the Book of the Covenant are closely parallel to laws that have been discovered in other ancient Near Eastern cultures. For example, the law of the goring ox (21:28-32) resembles laws in the Mesopotamian law codes of Eshnunna 54-55 and the code of Hammurabi 250-252.(1) In contrast, other laws clearly derive from a uniquely Israelite context and history (e.g., Exod. 22:21; 23:9-19). Some scholars argue that this distinction between borrowed Near Eastern laws and native Israelite laws is a sign of a deeper, unresolved conflict between two clashing systems of values embedded within the Book of the Covenant. On the one hand, some of the laws seem to exemplify an alien system of values borrowed from the general, ancient Near Eastern culture outside Israel. Apparently, this alien system sought to maintain oppressive powers of discrimination and hierarchy (e.g., 21:21: the slave as the owner's property). On the other hand, there are laws that reflect a native system of values shaped by Israel's distinctive history as slaves liberated from Egypt, one that embodied creativity, equality, and liberation (e.g., 22:9: compassion for resident aliens).(2)

Striving to Smooth Out the Jagged Edges: Modern Studies of the Book of the Covenant

What is an interpreter to do with these tensions relating to forms, functions, and themes we find in the Book of the Covenant? The modern history of interpretation of this book shows that scholars have attempted to explain away or smooth out these various tensions. Yet, so extensive is scholarship devoted to these few chapters of Exodus that our upcoming survey of the history of their interpretation can only call attention to major turning points.

On a literary level, earlier source critics noted the seam, or literary break, that signals the beginning of a new section at Exodus 19:24-25 with God's invitation to Moses to bring Aaron with him to the top of Mount Sinai; this new section, however, seems not to resume until much later in Exodus 24:1. The Ten Commandments in 20:1-17 and the Book of the Covenant in 21:18-23:19 appeared to source critics to have been placed secondarily into the midst of this section, breaking up the narrative sequence. Still, none of the usual criteria for assigning sources were present themselves.(3) Hence, the position of Bruno Baentsch gradually became the consensus view: The Book of the Covenant was an independent block of material.(4) Relying on this explanation, source critics believed they could clarify the reasons for the disjunction between the Sinai narrative and the intrusive Book of the Covenant and that they had resolved the tension created by the literary seam.

The work of form critics brought about a new turn in the history of interpretation of the Book of the Covenant. Form critics focused attention on the contrasting forms laws took within Exodus 20-23. Albrecht Alt argued that the Book of the Covenant could be divided into two halves, each marked by two types of biblical law: casuistic laws and apodictic laws.(5) The casuistic, or case, laws consist of conditional sentences in the form of "if . . . then. . . ." The protasis ("if" or "when" clause) described the circumstances of a given legal case, and the apodosis (the "then" clause) describes the legal consequences or punishments. Consider this law, for example: "if someone's ox hurts the ox of another, so that it dies, then they shall sell the live ox and divide the price of it" (21:35). This casuistic form is dominant in the first half of the Book of the Covenant (21:122:17). It is also the form that dominates in most ancient Near Eastern law codes found outside Israel. Such case law tends to be secular in subject matter, and rhetorical or motivational exhortations are absent.

In contrast, the second half of the Book of the Covenant (22:18-23:19) is expressed in apodictic form, as is the brief introductory section in 20:22-26. Apodictic laws are direct commands stated in the second person: "You shall . . ." or "You shall not. . . ." They contain no statement of punishments or consequences. Rhetorical embellishments and exhortations, however, frequently appear. One example is Exodus 22:21: "You shall not wrong or oppress a resident alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt." These apodictic laws include religious, humanitarian, and sacrificial concerns. Alt believed that apodictic laws, as opposed to the casuistic laws borrowed from the common legal tradition of the ancient Near East, were uniquely Israelite in origin.

Alt further argued that the apodictic laws of Exodus 20:22-26 and 22:1823:19 developed out of the cult, or worship life, of ancient Israel. Others, however, have attempted to locate the origins of apodictic law in other social settings either within or beyond Israel's community life.(6) By the same token, Alt's contention that the casuistic, or case, laws (with the form of "if . . . then . . .") derive from a common tradition shared by other ancient Near Eastern legal collections has been widely accepted. The same is true of the basic distinction Alt made between casuistic and apodictic laws, although certain refinements have also been introduced.(7) But Alt's proposal to understand the apodictic laws (with the form of "you shall . . ." or "you shall not . . .") to be a uniquely Israelite contribution has not been widely embraced. On the contrary, plausible alternative sources and analogues from outside Israel have been successfully identified (e.g., the widely available wisdom tradition of the ancient Near East, curse inscriptions, or Hittite instructional literature). Although no single proposal has clearly won the day, these and other attempts to explain the separate origins of the diverse forms of laws within the Book of the Covenant often share an underlying interpretive assumption: The primary goal in interpreting biblical law is to be that of explaining the multiple origins and development of the laws; if one can do this, it is thought, one can resolve and explain the tensions within the biblical text. Later, we will return to consider the adequacy of this assumption.

Even if the differences between the two major forms of laws found in the Book of the Covenant could be definitively explained in terms of their different origins, there still remains the issue of the topical, or thematic, disorder within this Book. Various explanations have again been offered. For example, David Daube argues that what caused unrelated additions to the end of the laws, creating a topically disordered collection, were ancient redactional techniques connected with writing in stone and the appropriation of oral tradition.(8) For his part, George Mendenhall suggests that, in reality, the laws are not in disorder. Instead, they are arranged according to the sequence of topics in the Ten Commandments.(9) More recently, Raymond Westbrook has insisted that any apparent disorder in the Book of the Covenant is the result of our modern lack of knowledge about the social and cultural background that determines the sequence of laws and topics within ancient legal codes, whether it be the Bible or other ancient Near Eastern documents.(10) Laws in these documents have a coherence which we, as twentieth-century interpreters, may not possess the competence to understand. Westbrook's point is that we do not need to employ models of historical development, editorial additions, or authorial incompetence to explain apparent inconsistencies within the Book of the Covenant. As could have been anticipated, Westbrook's position, too, has been soundly critiqued, and these critiques have produced substantial evidence to show that historical development and redaction have taken place in both ancient Near Eastern and Israelite legal codes.(11) Drawing on anthropological insights, Jay Marshall endeavors to explain the divergent laws and forms found in the Book of the Covenant as expressions of different but simultaneously existing levels of society in pre-monarchic Israel: family law; an intermediate court system that adjudicated conflict between families; and an upper-level legal system at which conflict was mediated by a chief. Allegedly, each level of society contributed some of the laws of the Book of the Covenant, creating a sense of unevenness in them.(12) Here, then, is yet another way to explain the differing legal forms.

Beyond divergences in forms and themes, another major area of debate regarding the Book of the Covenant is the issue of deeper principles or systems of value that some scholars think underlie its specific laws. In his study, Moshe Greenberg attempts to discern the values or principles undergirding the biblical criminal laws, many of which appear in the Book of the Covenant.(13) Greenberg contrasts the principles underlying such laws outside Israel with those he finds in the Bible. The distinctive emphases he postulates for biblical criminal laws include divine (not kingly) authorship, the invaluable worth of human life over property, and the prohibition of vicarious punishment. Still, Bernard Jackson has countered that Greenberg's attempt to discern such underlying principles of a society founders because of methodological problems, a lack of evidence, and a tendency to overgeneralize.(14)

Unlike Greenberg, who posits a conflict of values between biblical and Near Eastern laws, Paul Hanson contends that within the Book of the Covenant itself, two fundamentally opposed systems of value stand in conflict. As Hanson sees it, one section of laws is hierarchical and oppressive when compared with ancient Near Eastern legal codes (the casuistic laws). In contrast, a second section is egalitarian and liberating, in line with Israel's unique history as slaves liberated by God from Egypt (the apodictic laws).(15) To explain these two opposing sections, Hanson constructs a tradition-historical trajectory that runs from earlier oppressive, Near Eastern law toward a later, liberating principle shaped by God's saving action in the exodus and carried forward in the worship life and distinctive legal traditions of Israel.

Concerning both the relatedness and distinctiveness of the laws of Exodus 20:22-23:19 when compared with ancient Near Eastern law codes, many important insights have been gleaned from scholarly study of the Book of the Covenant. Most scholars recognize that the laws of this Book have had a long history of formation within the Israelite community over many generations. Scholars have endeavored to explain and thereby neutralize numerous kinds of tensions and contradictions that appear in the forms, themes, and values one discovers within this Book. Greenberg and Hanson have gone beyond objective explanation of these tensions to explore more normative aspects of the laws of this Book, pointing to larger principles and values that might be appropriated by contemporary readers. Yet even such laudable interpretive moves as theirs are in danger of abstracting and generalizing from these laws and thus ignoring particularities and tensions that remain when the laws are considered within their present biblical and narrative context. These approaches by Greenberg and Hanson also run the risk of unfairly denigrating non-Israelite cultures and laws. As Joseph Blenkinsopp observes:

A comparison of the laws in the Mesopotamian collections with those of the Covenant Code does not support the view that the latter are in all respects more advanced and humanitarian in character. Nor does it substantiate the liberal idea of a progressively enlightened approach to penal legislation. The death penalty occurs more often in early Israelite legislation, for example, than in the Sumerian laws where capital sentence is reserved to the crown. In the laws of Eshnunna, the owner of a rogue ox that kills someone is fined, whereas in the Covenant Code he is sentenced to death (Exod 21:29). The Code of Hammurabi provides better protection to a woman divorced by her husband than does early Israelite legislation, and stipulates that the insolvent person taken into indentured service has to be freed after three years rather than six, as in the early Israelite law (Exod 21:2). The Covenant Code stands apart not so much by virtue of its substance, but because of the historical-narrative context in which it is presented (italics added).(16)

I believe that Blenkinsopp's concluding statement may point us forward in our interpretation of the Book of the Covenant to a method that does not isolate its biblical laws from their immediate and specific narrative context. This narrative context can be used to give guidance to contemporary readers whose interest is in a constructive theological interpretation of the laws of this Book.

Some Preliminary Steps toward a Theological Reading of the Tensions, Contradictions, and Particularities of the Book of the Covenant

We have noted ways in which scholars have tried to explain away the tensions and sudden shifts in forms and themes found among the laws in the Book of the Covenant. While these scholars have enriched us with important insights, there are three alternative avenues of approach that should also be explored as we use this book's ancient laws as a resource for contemporary theological reflection. These three avenues take into account the following concerns: (a) to provide a theological interpretation of the tensions and differences discerned in the forms, functions, and subject matter of the Covenant Book's laws that is positive in nature; (b) to give attention to the role the Book of the Covenant plays within its immediate narrative context within the Sinai covenant (Exod. 10-24); and (c) to assert the recognition that the present form of Exodus effectively contains within it two Books of the Covenant that correspond to two separate covenants: the one given before, and the other after, the apostasy of the golden calf (Exod. 10-24 and 32-34).

The first avenue of approach has been charted by the theologian Michael Welker. He aims to reformulate the theology of law and gospel through a close reading of the laws appearing in Exodus 20:22-23:19.(17) Welker attempts not to explain away but to embrace the tensions and complexities uncovered within the Book of the Covenant so as to arrive at a more nuanced understanding of a biblical theology of law in relation to recent developments in the social sciences. He concludes that laws function to order life and thereby to form a network of relationships that provide for the mutual security of expectations among individuals and communities. The different aspects and functions of laws within the Book of the Covenant create "fields of tension" that balance expectations and establish dialectical boundaries of values and norms that, together, ensure justice (case law), the accessibility of God's presence (cultic law), and the regularizing of mercy as an ongoing community expectation (humanitarian laws of compassionate mercy). The vision of law in the Book of the Covenant establishes a vibrant and illustrative model of the interaction among the diverse forms and functions of biblical laws.

To illustrate, the more secular casuistic, or case, laws in Exodus 21:1-22:17 are traced to experiences of conflict within the community. These laws propose to restore relationships or to limit a conflict through compensation. The well-known lex talionis, "life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth" (21:23-24) limits the otherwise unchecked spiral of vengeance that any harmful act can incite. But even in these more secular case laws, God's presence may be explicitly invoked as a third party in the conflict who plays an important role in ensuring the maintenance of justice. A small but significant example is Exodus 22:10-13. This law involves a case in which a person's animal is held in trust for a time by another member of the community. The animal allegedly dies or is stolen and disappears while in the safekeeping of the trustee. No evidence is available to decide the case since the animal is gone. On the one hand, the law could require the trustee to pay full restitution to the owner as a matter of course. But this would discourage people from helping their neighbor, since they would be liable in the event of loss. On the other hand, the law could require that no compensation be paid to the owner. But this would discourage people from entrusting anything to their neighbor, since the neighbor could easily take advantage of the arrangement and suffer no threat of reprisal. In both instances, the people's sense of community and trust would be eroded. To avoid either extreme and promote trust and good will, the biblical law invokes the divine presence. The person who held the animal in trust takes a public "oath before the Lord" that the animal actually disappeared through theft or death and that the trustee does not know of its whereabouts; the owner, in turn, receives no monetary compensation for his lost animal. Nevertheless, the owner rests assured that God will ensure that justice is done. If the trustee has lied, God will ensure his punishment and compensate the owner in due time. Correlatively, the trustee's integrity is protected in the eyes of the community through the swearing of the oath and the committing of his or her fate to the judgment of God.(18)

The viability of these and other case laws explicitly invoking God's presence is undergirded by the quite different cultic laws of the Book of the Covenant that also ensure the accessibility of God's presence to the community. These cultic laws frame the entire Book of the Covenant (Exod. 20:22-26 and 23:1019). The opening set of laws in 20:22-26 deals with proper altars for worship and thus endeavors to ensure a specific and concrete place where God's presence can come into contact with the community. The concluding set of laws in 23:1019 treats the sabbaths and sabbatical years and thus the annual festivals and sacrifices that work to ensure the proper time and quality of worship and of access to God's presence and power.(19)

The assurance of God's ongoing presence in these cultic laws of the Book of the Covenant also enhances the influence of what Welker calls the "mercy code." Laws demonstrating particular concern for slaves, aliens, and other weaker persons in the community are motivated by the memory of God's merciful action in the past: "You shall not wrong or oppress a resident alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt" (Exod. 22:21). Still, this assurance of God's ongoing presence also empowers the weak to cry out to God against those who might oppress them at some future time: "If you do abuse [the alien, widow, or orphan], when they cry out to me, I will surely heed their cry; my wrath will burn, and I will kill you with the sword, and your wives shall become widows and your children orphans" (22:23-24).

These are examples of ways in which the laws with their varied forms and functions can provide a model for a rich and concrete contemporary theology of the law. Welker's interpretations encourage us not to explain away or selectively choose too quickly among the divergent forms of laws within Exodus 20-23. Rather, Welker urges that we first work diligently to appropriate the diversity and complexity of the laws of the Book of the Covenant as a whole and in their present form.

A second avenue of approach for interpreting the Book of the Covenant summons us to take seriously its narrative context. Joe Sprinkle's literary analysis aims to demonstrate the literary coherence and artistry of the present sequence of the Book's laws.(20) Sprinkle posits an intricate series of literary brackets, chiasmas, parallel structures, and verbal allusions to biblical texts and narratives that appear outside the Book. His intent is to present alternative explanations for the tensions and incoherences of the Book's laws, which form- and redaction-critics attribute to the process of gradual collection and editing. Certain of Sprinkle's explanations of the thematic arrangement of the laws are plausible, but others seem not to negate the evidence for some editing and development in the growth of these laws.

In one respect, however, Sprinkle's study is most helpful: in the attention he pays to the ways in which the wider narrative framework of the Book of the Covenant plays a role in helping us to understand the Book's function within Exodus.(21) In its present form, the specific laws and admonitions of the Book serve as illustrative commentary to the more general imperatives of the Ten Commandments. The Ten Commandments are abstract and require translation into concrete circumstances within the life of the community. The laws illustrate such concretization without needing to be comprehensive or overly systematic or polished.

The jagged-edged laws of the Book of the Covenant suggest that the process of concrete ethical reflection tends always to be partial, provisional, and in need of being negotiated among conflicting obligations and values. The Ten Commandments represent a polished and abstract set of norms. But the Book of the Covenant reminds us that the actualization of those norms within the community's life is a fluid and ongoing process of specific applications that are not to be frozen into moralistic absolutes. The nature of the Book of the Covenant is such that it promotes ethical reflection in the spirit of dialogue, openness to other positions, reasoned argumentation, and the avoidance of a dogmatic or legalistic moralism that presumes to know with certainty the infallible truth about deeply controverted issues. At the same time, the Ten Commandments written by God on stone tablets remind us that indelible and God-given norms of right and wrong stand in judgment of our actions, no matter how imperfectly or partially we may be able to actualize those norms in our individual and communal lives.

The third avenue of approach in interpreting the Book of the Covenant concerns the role that this Book plays in the wider context of Exodus. A striking, but often overlooked, fact is that there are actually two versions of the Book of the Covenant in Exodus, one in 20:22-23:19 and the other in 34:11-26. Each of these versions occurs within a separate covenant-making ceremony. Within the first ceremony, one finds the first set of stone tablets containing the Ten Commandments and the first Book of the Covenant at Sinai (chaps. 19-24). Within the second ceremony, one finds a second set of stone tablets inscribed with the Ten Commandments and a second version of the Book of the Covenant. This second set of stone tablets replaces the original tablets Moses had broken in anger when he saw Israel's idolatrous worship of the golden calf (chaps. 32-34). Moses' breaking the stone tablets was a metaphor for the broken covenant relationship between God and Israel.

As preliminary observations, we may note first that the original version of the Book of the Covenant makes allusions to what later occurs in the golden calf episode. The first set of laws expressly prohibits the making of "gods of gold" (Exod. 20:23). There follows immediately in the Book of the Covenant a paranetic section warning Israel of the dangers of idolatry and the temptation of other gods (23:20-33). This paranetic section also includes a reference to "an angel" whom God will appoint to lead Israel in its march toward the promised land of Canaan. This angel is described as one 'Who will not pardon your transgression" (23:20-22). Interestingly, the aftermath of the golden calf episode involves a debate between Moses and God as to whether "an angel" or God's own gracious and forgiving presence will lead Israel to Canaan (33:1-23, esp. 33:2). In the end, Moses convinces God that God should lead Israel. The contrast between the first covenant's unforgiving angel (23:20-22) and the second covenant's compassionate and forgiving God is highlighted by the parallel descriptions of God's character given in the two covenants. In the first one, the accent is on God's jealousy and punishments, and divine compassion is made secondary to these (20:5-6). In the second one, the parallel description of God's character reverses the emphasis and underscores God's merciful and forgiving love. Moreover, the condition of "keeping my commandments" is deleted (34:67).(22)

In a similar way, one can compare the parallel versions of the laws that appear in the two Books of the Covenant. When one places the laws of Exodus 2023 next to the laws of 34:11-26, it is clear that nearly all of the laws in chapter 34 reproduce in detail laws found in the first Book of the Covenant. In the second covenant, however, there are far fewer laws, and they all focus on religious obligations: sacrifices, offerings, and the prohibition of worshipping other gods. Still, one law not present in the earlier Book of the Covenant has been added. This law relates to the golden calf apostasy that just occurred: "You shall not make cast idols" (Exod. 34:17).(23) What this comparison underlines is the fluidity and context-specific ways in which the laws of the Book of the Covenant are selected, changed, added to and reapplied in a new setting. Hence, the Book of Exodus itself provides an example of a collection of laws being reinterpreted in the face of a new crisis and contingency in the life of the Israelite community. Again, the apparent contradictions between these two covenants and their accompanying laws are not adequately explained if we simply observe that different authors or editors seem to have been responsible for them. This may be part of the truth, but it is not all there is. Such contradictions may also be theologically fruitful. The two Exodus covenants create a larger field of tension that suggests a more dynamic understanding of law and gospel than some dogmatic formulations allow. The earlier covenant emphasizes human responsibility and obedience as a response to God's gracious deliverance from slavery in Egypt (Exod. 19-24). The later covenant emphasizes God's forgiving compassion toward a sinful people who yet remain responsible for their transgression, which is defined at its root as idolatry and the worship of other gods. Neither of the two, often simplified, Protestant formulations of the relationship of law to gospel, whether the more Lutheran sequence of law and then gospel or the more Reformed sequence of gospel and then law, adequately captures the dynamic and complex nature of the relationship between the two in the Book of Exodus. It may be that a return to these formative Old Testament legal texts in terms of the three approaches just sketched will give us new footholds in our continuing efforts to interpret the theologically jagged cliffs of Mount Sinai.

NOTES

1. Shalom Paul, Studies in the Book of the Covenant in the Light of Cuneiform and Biblical Law (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1970), 78-83.

2. Paul Hanson, "The Theological Significance of Contradiction Within the Book of the Covenant," in Canon and Authority: Essays in Old Testament Religion and Theology, ed. George Coats and Burke Long (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977), 110-31.

3. Cf. the survey of the source-critical discussions in J. Morgenstern, "The Book of the Covenant, Part I," HUCA 5 (1928): 1-2.

4. Bruno Baentsch, Das Bundesbuch Ex XX. 22-XXIII. 33 (Halle: Max Niemeyer, 1892).

5. Albrecht Alt, "The Origins of Israelite Law," in Essays on Old Testament History, and Religion (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1966), 70-132.

6. George Mendenhall, "Law and Covenant in Israel and the Ancient Near East," BA 17 (1954): 30. Mendenhall cites as an example this treaty stipulation from a Hittite king, "Thou shall not desire any territory of the lands of Hatti." E. Gerstenberger, "Covenant and Commandments," JBL 84 (1965): 38-51; B. Gemser, "The Importance of the Motive Clause in Old Testament Law," Supplements to VT 1 (1953): 50-66; and R. Sonsino, Motive Clauses in Hebrew Law, SBLDS 15 (Chico: Scholars Press, 1980). An example of a motive clause that seeks to persuade and cajole compliance is Exodus 23:9, "You shall not oppress a resident alien; you know the heart of an alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt." S. Gervitz, "West-Semitic Curses and the Problem of the Origins of Hebrew Law," VT 11 (1961): 137-58; M. Weinfeld, "The Origin of Apodictic Law (An Overlooked Source)," VT 23 (1973): 64-5.

7. For example, a block of laws using a participle form (rather than an "if . . . then . . ." form) in Exodus 21:12-17 has been introduced into the laws of Exodus 21:1-22:17 which are otherwise all casuistic in form.

8. David Daube, Studies in Biblical Law (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1947), 76-7.

9. Mendenhall, "Law and Covenant," 38-9.

10. Raymond Westbrook, "What Is the Covenant Code?" in Theory and Method in Biblical and Cuneiform Law: Revision, Interpolation and Development, ed. Bernard Levinson (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994). Westbrook's thesis for the structure and coherence rests largely on his comparative work with Near Eastern law codes and the Book of the Covenant.

11. Levinson, Theory and Method, 37-196.

12. Jay W. Marshall, Israel and the Book of the Covenant: An Anthropological Approach to Biblical Law, SBLDS 140 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1993).

13. Moshe Greenberg, "Some Postulates of Biblical Criminal Law," in Yehezkel Kaufmann Jubilee Volume, ed. M. Haran (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1960), 5-28.

14. Bernard Jackson, "Reflections on Biblical Criminal Law," in Essays in Jewish and Comparative Legal History (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1975), 25-63.

15. Paul Hanson, 'Theological Significance of Contradiction," 110-31. Cf. also The People Called: The Growth of Community in the Bible (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1986), 42-52. Hanson writes, "The case laws are typical of the ordinances found in the great cultures of Mesopotamia. . . . Reflected is a sharply stratified order, with, for example, more generous treatment being accorded males than females (21:1-11), and less severe punishment being prescribed for a person injuring a slave than for a person injuring a free citizen (21:12-14, 18-19). . . . [In contrast, the apodictic] laws guide the people in a life of looking after the vulnerable among them, the debtors, the widows, the orphans, and those without the rights of citizenship" (44-5).

16. Joseph Blenkinsopp, Wisdom and Law in the Old Testament: The Ordering of Life in Israel and Early Judaism, rev. ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995), 98-9. Theologically, the inclusion or borrowing of common ancient Near Eastern laws ought not to be considered a self-evidently negative enterprise. The case laws of Exod. 21:1-22:17 have been tested and accepted by generations of Israelite communities who saw fit to include them as an integral part of divine law handed down to Moses from Mount Sinai. They have not been marked off as in any way inferior to the other laws. Moreover, it is noteworthy that the narrative that immediately precedes the Sinai covenant section is a narrative about Moses' father-in-law, Jethro, a Midianite and hence a non-Israelite, offering guidance to Moses concerning matters of judicial administration (Exod. 18:1-27). Jethro becomes a vehicle of God's wisdom mediated through a non-Israelite culture. A robust understanding of God as Creator ought to be open to considering and testing the wisdom, guidance and laws offered by other cultures, nations and communities that may not be our own.

17. Michael Welker, "Security of Expectations: Reformulating the Theology of Law and Gospel,"JR 66 (1986): 237-60.

18. Ibid., 247.

19. Ibid., 244-6.

20. Joe Sprinkle, The Book of the Covenant: A Literary Approach (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994).

21. Ibid., 17-34.

22. A theologically insightful exposition of Exodus 32-34 along the lines we have outlined here may be found in R. W. L. Moberly, At the Mountain of God: Story and Theology in Exodus 32-34 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1983).

23. An example of a study that notes the significance of these two parallel versions of the Book of the Covenant is Herbert Chanan Brichto, Toward a Grammar of Biblical Poetics: Tales of the Prophets (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 109-10, 119-21. I am not convinced by Brichto's attempts to argue against all source-critical or redaction-critical attempts to chart the development of these Exodus texts. Nor am I convinced by his arguments for identifying the "angel" as the person of Moses. Nonetheless, Brichto's literary analysis does offer some helpful insights that need not be seen as incompatible with historical-critical understandings of the text.

Named Works: Bible. O.T. Exodus (Sacred work) - Criticism and interpretation