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(Commendations From Scholars)

“In this engaging book, Borgman and Clark open the ears of their readers to the patterns that helped n ancient oral culture hear and respond to the good news. In so doing, they offer us the opportunity to hear the good news afresh and to respond with renewed vigor to the message of Jesus.” Ruth Anne Reese, Asbury Theological Seminary

“This is a wonderfully written, theologically alert, and practically purposeful book. Teachers and clergy alike, who are keen to lead their students and parishioners in close readings of Scripture, will want to add this book to their libraries. Highly recommended!”
Robert Wall, Seattle Pacific University and Seminary

“Written to be Heard pays huge dividends for modern/postmodern readers of the gospels today, as the authors show how ‘oral performance’ connects each successive unit to an emerging new whole and thus establish a cadence of advancing coherence, significance, and lasting impact of Jesus’s many interactions with his ‘followers.’ Indeed, Borgman and Clark advance narrative comprehension to a new level!” David P. Moessner, Texas Christian University.

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The Forward for Written To Be Heard  by Nicholas Wolterstorff (Yale University, Professor Emeritus)

 

You and I, literate citizens of the modern world, typically engage the New Testament gospels in the same way we engage most narratives: we read them; we don’t listen to them read aloud. And in our reading, we naturally employ the habits and skills we have acquired for reading and interpreting modern narratives, historical or fictional. We read the gospels as if they were modern narratives.
Some of us listen to passages from the gospels read aloud in church. But the printed liturgy for the day usually includes the text of the passage, inviting us to follow along by reading. And even if we don’t follow along, our listening is no different, in essentials, from reading the passage for ourselves.

Almost always, our reading of the gospels consists of reading snatches. Few of us have ever read a gospel straight through, and, almost certainly, none of us has ever listened to a gospel read aloud straight through. We don’t have time. In our liturgies, our group Bible studies, our private devotions, we content ourselves with snatches.

In our interpretation of what we read, we typically treat each gospel as part of that larger composition which is the Gospels, or the New Testament. And we employ theological lenses—the lens of Pauline theology, the lens of the theology of the book of Hebrews, or some alternative. We interpret what one of the gospels says about salvation, about sin, about righteousness, about Christ’s crucifixion, in the light of what the other gospels say about those matters and through the lens of our theology.[bg_collapse view=”link” color=”#4a4949″ expand_text=”Show More” collapse_text=”Show Less” ]

After developing the point that the gospels were written to be listened to by people who had the listening skills and habits of antiquity, the authors of Written to Be Heard analyze each gospel in detail to answer the question, What would ancient listeners have heard as the message of the gospel when they listened to it read in its entirety rather than in snatches, and when it was presented as a unified whole rather than as part of that larger entity which is the Gospels, or the New Testament? What cues would they have picked up as to the structure of the gospel and hence its message? What would they have heard as the message when they did not interpret it in the light of the theology of the New Testament epistles?

In their introductory discussion of ancient compositional and listening practices, the authors place special emphasis on two points. Authors in the ancient world who created compositions for listening typically made heavy use of repetitions to structure their composition: repetitions of words, of turns of phrase, of types of episodes, of images. Listeners grasped the structure of the composition, and hence its meaning, by being attentive to those repetitions. Repetition is seldom a structuring device in modern narratives, with the result that we are not attuned to taking note of repetitions. And even if we were, the fact that we read and listen to the gospels in snatches results in our seldom being aware of the repetitions and of their structuring function.

Authors in the ancient world were also fond of using so-called chiastic structures. In a chiastic structure, the main point of the passage is in the center. What immediately follows the center (call it A′) mirrors what immediately preceded the center (call it A); what follows A′ mirrors what preceded A; and so forth. Modern authors do not use chiastic structures, and so, of course, we are not attuned to taking note of them when we read ancient literature. We fail to catch the main point of a chiastically structured passage.

The detailed reading of the four gospels plus the book of Acts that Written to Be Heardpresents is a literary reading. But it’s a literary reading of a very different sort from most so-called literary readings. Most literary readings of the gospels treat them as texts meant to be read rather than listened to, and they employ modern skills and habits of interpretation. They do not invite and enable us to become first-century listeners.

The experience of many readers will be, as was mine, that of scales falling from one’s eyes. So that’s the message of Matthew, of Mark, of Luke-Acts, of John! I had never noticed those repetitions, or those chiastic structures. Nothing in my training as a reader led me to notice them. So I missed the cues to the structure of the gospel, and hence its main message. And even if I had been trained to notice repetitions, the fact that I engage the gospels in snatches means that I miss most of them. As for interpretation, I had always interpreted each gospel as part of that larger composition which is the Gospels, and through the lens of Pauline theology.

Why didn’t someone write Written to Be Heard long ago?

From Publisher’s Weekly, Jan 15

https://www.publishersweekly.com/978-0-8028-7704-8

Written to Be Heard: Recovering the Messages of the Gospels
Paul Borgman and Kelly James Clark. Eerdmans, $30 (328p) ISBN 978-0-8028-7704-8

Positing convincingly that the four gospels—Matthew, Mark, Luke-Acts, and John—were written to be heard, not read, Borgman (David, Saul, and God), professor emeritus at Gordon College, and religion professor Clark (Abraham’s Children) analyze how themes embedded in each text resonate when listened to. The authors contend that the gospel writers constructed their texts as “oral performances” with “hearing cues,” narrative patterns, repetition, rhythm, and other literary constructions that helped original listeners comprehend key ideas, and contemporary readers (lacking this awareness) misinterpret fundamental themes. In extensive detail, the authors examine the narrative devices each writer employs. Employing an “authority-response” pattern throughout his gospel, Mark heightens the cautionary tale about true discipleship. From his opening genealogy (which is usually skimmed while reading) Matthew tells the story of the “next (and last) chapter in Jewish history,” framing his gospel with examples of how Jesus’ life and teaching offer fulfillments of Scripture. Luke and Acts, considered as a two-volume text, offer parallel stories, which can be performed sequentially so that prophesies in Luke are fulfilled in Acts. And in his opening intricate poem, John presents his gospel’s major theme: that believers will have power “to become children of God.” In excavating the gospel narratives’ intricate structure, this perceptive work of scholarship reveals thematic nuances long overlooked by Christian readers. (Mar.)
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Reviews from Peer-Reviewed journals:

Genesis: The Story We Haven’t Heard Reviewed in Review of Biblical Literature, SBL/RBL, 10/2003. Roy E. Gane, Andrews University

At first glance the subtitle of Paul Borgman’s Genesis: The Story We Haven’t Heard (252 pages, including selected bibliography plus subject, author, and scripture indices) looks pretentious. After all, the analyses of Genesis over hundreds of years and the plethora of recent commentaries coming at it from a variety of scholarly and popular angles, how could we not have heard the story of this biblical book? Haven’t sensitive and astute literary critics, such as Robert Alter (Genesis: Translation and Commentary [New York: Norton, 1996]), alerted us to every nuance on several levels?

Borgman delivers on his subtitle. The contribution of this English professor is to convincingly expose a web of narrative/literary connections that reveal dynamics of human and divine repetition and change within the context of a unified drama. Rather than viewing Genesis as a series of exegetical, literary, theological, or devotional bits and pieces, Borgman perceives under the surface of the whole book a powerful clarification of human experience that can transform hearers or readers by involving them in the narrative.[bg_collapse view=”link” color=”#4a4949″ expand_text=”Show More” collapse_text=”Show Less” ]

Although Borgman’s volume could be regarded as a commentary in the sense that it systematically interprets the text of Genesis, his unwavering concern is with tracing major themes and their permutations rather than with explaining all the details. So he covers the entire primeval history (Gen 1–11) in a single chapter (ch. 1) comprising part 1, “The Prologue,” which introduces the normal human tendency to self-aggrandizement that began with wrong choices of Adam and Eve when they attempted to improve their relative position. Cain and Lamech followed the same destructive pattern. Even after God took drastic remedial action by wiping out all except Noah and his family through the massive force of the flood, the pattern of self-absorption vigorously revived in the builders of Babel. So God was back to square one. What could he do to break the cycle? Following his brief sketch of the human problem as described in the primeval prologue, Borgman devotes the remainder of his book to an alternate approach that God adopted during the patriarchal era (Gen 12–50). He patiently called, coaxed, and challenged Abraham and Sarah (part 2), Jacob and Esau, Rachel and Leah (part 3), Joseph and family, and Judah and Tamar (part 4) into partnership with himself to reverse the curse of selfishness by providing blessing to all families of the earth. Although the divine aim remained constant, the Lord adapted his tactics to effectively meet the individual needs of different personalities. He always respected human free choice but provided opportunities and tests to lead people toward better choices that would benefit others and not only themselves.

Development of Abraham’s partnership with God was paradigmatic. An ordinary man, Abraham’s trust in God was undermined by fear for his own skin, to the extent that he was willing to compromise his wife’s sexual purity by telling Egyptians that she was his sister. Through a series of seven encounters with God over a number of years, he progressively learned to trust God, to let go of his fear, and to seek the well-being of others, beginning with his own family and extending to people of other nations. When he trusted God enough to relinquish his own son, God confirmed the covenant promise that all nations would be blessed through him (Gen 22; compare 12:1–3). Although Jacob was less willing to let go than Abraham was, God led him through tough circumstances to the point that he agreed to give up his beloved son, Benjamin, to the uncertainty of a trip to Egypt. Joseph began as a normal, self-centered lad, but through experiencing a series of “pits”—a dry well, slavery in Egypt, and prison—he became the culminating partner with God in the book of Genesis, providing life for his family and blessing to other nations. The most impressive feature of Borgman’s book is the way in which he finds narrative/literary links between various parts of Genesis and derives their meaning within the overall drama of divine-human relationships. For example, the way in which Joseph tested his brothers echoed God’s test of Abraham and also of Jacob. Borgman writes: “What the brothers learn from Joseph’s testing is the same complex and demanding lesson that their great-grandfather Abraham learned from God: letting go of the normal and parochial ways of being in the world. The Genesis God, and Joseph,
are not inscrutable or capricious. . . . God and Joseph both want individual reorientation and a measure of reciprocity from those over whom they have power; each desires blessing for all peoples. Herein is a Joseph easily mistaken. Herein is a God we haven’t quite recognized. This is the story we haven’t heard.” (240).

Although he is an English professor, Borgman’s interpretations unobtrusively draw on rich knowledge of the Hebrew text and scholarly literature. While he does not attempt to provide definite answers to all the tough questions that he raises, he is prepared to parry scholarly opinion and make a plausible, balanced case for a minority conclusion. For example, while many exegetes view the way Joseph took the land of the Egyptians in exchange for grain and set up a 20 percent tax on future crops (Gen 47) from a modern perspective as ruthless machination for the benefit of Pharaoh, Borgman puts this policy in perspective: the Egyptians are grateful that Joseph has kept them alive; strong management can avert future disasters; a 20 percent flat tax is relatively light; and the text affirms Joseph’s concern for households and “little ones” of the Egyptians, just as he has sustained his father’s household, including the “little ones” (215–18). Thus, without resorting to circular reasoning, Borgman finds the character of Joseph at this point to be consistent with the larger picture of Joseph’s exemplary partnership with God.

To point out connections in Genesis, Borgman frequently interrupts the chronological flow of his exposition, and some chapters overlap in order to examine parts of the same stories from different angles. This could be confusing, but in addition to the clarity of his non-technical language and generally simple but often profound sentences, Borgman keeps the reader on track by means of a brief transition (in italics) at the end of each chapter of his book, which succinctly wraps up the theme(s) of the chapter and looks ahead to the next chapter. His approach inevitably generates redundancy as he looks at episodes from various directions and points out narrative echoes of God’s anchor promise to Abraham throughout Genesis. However, he maintains interest by focusing on what is new and fresh by comparison with what is past and familiar.

Some aspects of Borgman’s interpretation, such as his characterization of Isaac as passive and rather incompetent or of young Joseph as “a perfectly hateful youngster . . . a tattletale and a braggart” (238) may seem slightly exaggerated and discomfort a reader who is accustomed to holding the biblical patriarchs in reverential awe. Even more disquieting are implications for our own lives as Borgman’s Genesis draws us into its story, probes the recesses of our souls, and lays bare the same kind of ancient drive to promote ourselves at the expense of others that has cursed our world since the time of Adam and Eve. Nevertheless, the accounts of the patriarchs, beset with faults and foibles as they were, engender hope that God can guide ordinary people to partnership with him for the sake of cosmic blessing.

**

From Review of Biblical Literature (RBL), Society of  Biblical Literature 02/2004, R. De W. Oosthuizen University of Fort Hare; Alice, South Africa 5700

The fact that Borgman obtained a University of Chicago Ph.D. in the “art of stories,” a non-theological discipline, puts him to a certain extent in an advantaged position to appreciate some finer features of the Genesis story. . . . .Borgman [warns against] a “bits-and-pieces” approach that does not allow the reader to appreciate the text on its own terms—that is, to follow the clues of repetitive patterns within the text, and as a consequence miss the meaning of the story.

**

SBL/RBL 2004, Jan Lion-Cachet, Waikanae, New Zealand, 6010

In  the  introduction  to  his  book,  Genesis:  The  Story  We  Haven’t  Heard,  Paul  Borgman writes:  “The promise  of  this  guide  is  to  help with finding the connections that provide theme  and  character  for  Genesis, “including  the  character of God” (14). To be able to provide it, he tries to approach the Genesis story as objectively as possible. That is only possible to a certain degree. He realizes himself that his predisposition of “God is One”may  have  influenced  his  view  that  the  Genesis story presents a unified portrait of God (17). He also wants to “involve the readers by helping to sort out the text’s clues” (19).

Borgman  (Ph.D., University  of  Chicago)  is  professor  of  English  at  Gordon  College  in Wenham, Massachusetts. His insight and knowledge of the art of stories bring new light to the development and interconnection of the broader Genesis story. In a fitting way he is  able  to  make  use  of  seminar-like  discussions  between  his  students  and  himself  and conversations with three well-known Old Testament scholars, namely, James Ackerman, Walter Brueggemann, and Terence Fretheim. He makes extensive use of typical literature elements in the Hebrew language, such as  wordplays, silences, chiasms, repetitions, discontinuities, and changes.

Borgman follows the same sequence in his discussion on Genesis as the history line of Genesis.

Chapter 1 starts off with the account of creation. The  names  of  God  feature prominently in the creation story, which leads to better understanding of the character of God. In this chapter we also recognize the start of a possible theme that Borgman will try to emphasize  throughout  his  book.  On  the  one  hand, humans try to establish their own name and prominence in history, and it leads to sinful deeds and behavior (30, 37). On the  other  hand,  God  wants  humans  to  be  a  blessing  to  all  humanity.  Borgman  writes: “What God had wanted was a good world in which humans would find their highest good in a balanced partnership with one another . . .  and also in partnership with God” (29).

Chapter 2 starts with God’s promise to Abram. The emphasis is placed on the way Abram experiences  a  radical  insecurity  regarding  life  and  name  (55)  and  his  inability  to  be  a blessing to the rest of the world (41).

Chapter 3 discusses Abram’s first four visits with God (Gen 12:1-15:21). Abram’s fear and the upholding of his name are an integral part in the understanding of the four visits.

In chapter 4 visits five and six are discussed (Gen 17:1-18:33), and Abraham takes an increasingly active role in his partnership with God. The  usage  of  the  names  of  God  suggests more emphasis on God’s global vision.

The seventh visit is discussed in chapter 5 (Gen 22:1-19). Again, the usage of the names of God presents us with an understanding of God’s character (88), and Abraham must trust in God both for his own name and for the ultimate promise, blessing to all people (91).

Chapter 6 points out that the challenge “not to fear” is central to all the visits with God and fundamental in Abrahams plea of self-preservation for his wife and self-promotion of  his  interests  (113).

Chapter  7,  the  epilogue  of  Abraham’s  story,  concludes with the way Abraham brings blessing to all people. Chapter 8 is about Jacob’s own attempts to promote himself and his fear of not having a name (140, 148).

In chapter 9 Jacob is confronted with his own deceiving ways. Chapter 10 discusses a possible reorientation of Jacob’s heart, but self-promotion at the expense of others is still part of the life of Jacob and his family.

Finally, in chapters 11-13 self-promoting  interests  in  the  life  of  Joseph  and  his  brothers,  as  well  as  God’s  overall purpose for his people to be a blessing to all nations, are discussed. The conclusion is that it  is  all  too  human  to  promote  oneself  at  the  expense  of  others  (233),  but  through Abraham’s seed all nations will indeed be blessed (236).

Borgman succeeds in driving home the theme of self-promotion and the establishment of One’s own name in the lives of the patriarchs, on the one hand, and God’s overall purpose of  them  being  a  blessing  to  all  nations,  on  the  other  hand.  The  way  he  explains  the revelation  embedded  in  the  names  of  God  helps  the  reader  to  understand more of the character  of  God  and  the  reaction  of  people  to  it.  His  ability  to  prove  a  constant  and overall  theme  in  the  history  of  the  patriarchs  helps  to  pull  it  together  and  to  explain individual  passages  better.  Borgman  concludes  that  Genesis  is  a  story  “that  challenges our  conventional  ideas  about  God,  about  human  transformation,  and  about  what constitutes the truly good life” (241).

However, his claim that this is a story “we haven’t heard before” is not proved. Hasel wrote that “historical events must be capable of being explained by antecedent historical  causes  and  understood  in  terms  of  analogy  to  other historical experiencesî” (G. Hasel, Old Testament Theology: Basic issues in the Current Debate  [Grand  Rapids:  Eerdmans,  1982],  173).  In  doing  that,  scholars  were  able  to recognize  a  vast  variety  of  possible  themes  in  Genesis.

Borgman  also  mentions  that  “a dip-in-here, dip-in-there approach fails miserably with biblical narratives, systematically distorting their meaning” (15). This is true not only in the case of biblical narratives but also within the Old and New Testaments as a whole. Pratt  wrote that we “must evaluate all  differences  in  light  of  the  covenantal unity of Scripture” (R.L. Pratt,  He Gave Us Stories: The Bible Student’s Guide to Interpreting Old Testament Narratives [Brentwood, Tenn.: Wolgemuth & Hyatt, 1990], 344). To be able to understand the story of Genesis better  (including  the  character  of  God)  and  to  apply  it  to  our  lives,  we  must  not  only recognize  the  discontinuities,  repetitions,  chiasms,  and  silences  but  also  consider  the organic developments of redemptive history in the whole of Scripture.

Borgman’s Genesis: The Story We Haven’t Heard was a real delight to read. The way he uses and develops the different  themes  helps  the  reader  to  understand  the  Genesis narratives from a different angle. Features in the Genesis narratives, such as visitations, wrestling, and weeping, help one to recognize a different approach by God to individuals. However,  the  overall  picture  is  still  kept  together with one or two common themes. I would recommend this book to readers who want to enrich their insight into the Genesis narratives and their understanding of God’s ways in the lives of certain individuals.

**

Comments solicited by the publisher:

NANCY LINTON, The Oregon Extension

“From the murder of Abel by his brother Cain to the dissension between Joseph and his brothers, Paul Borgman weaves together biblical stories, previously seen as remnants, into a richly textured and provocative Genesis tapestry. Here humans embody belief and unbelief, flounder and thrive, each accompanied from start to finish by a relational God who loves them toward individual wholeness that promises healing for the world at large. Listening to texts particularly troublesome for women, Paul responds with exegesis so engaging of readers that it encourages further questions and prompts one to reread Genesis.”

**

STEVE NISENBAUM, Ph.D., J.D., Department of Psychiatry, Massachusetts General Hospital and Harvard Medical School

“This book I shared right away with my rabbi, my Jewish friends and colleagues. It is at once creative, enlightening and psychologically sophisticated. Borgman’s enjoyable commentary offers astonishingly compelling narrative truths to unlock the giant riddles of Genesis. No longer is God ‘inscrutable,’ being a ‘chosen people’ an entitlement of indelible righteousness, or God’s ‘plan’ mere arbitrary triumphal tribalism. And so, it illuminates an intrinsic coherence between contemporary Christian theology and the ethical relational striving informed by precursor truths known to the historical Jew Jesus.”

**

WALTER BRUEGGEMANN, Columbia Theological Seminary, author of Genesis and Theology of the Old Testament

“Borgman has read widely and is well rooted in the scholarly literature. His goal, however, is to make sense of the text by asking the kinds of questions that are raised by readers who have not been tamed away from the shock and puzzlement of the text. The book will interest those who have a literary sensitivity and face a literature that is theologically thick but unfamiliar. Borgman gives easy access but does not compromise the unfamiliarity and does not ‘explain’ the thickness in an easy way. Readers are invited to hear as for the first time.”

**

RUTH ANNE REESE, Asbury Theological Seminary

“In this book Borgman reminds us that God seeks real relationship and friendship with self-interested humanity. Such a relationship often involves change for both parties—indeed, this is one of the key points of Genesis: The Story We Haven’t Heard. These thoughts are pointers for understanding God and our own journey with him. This is a book well worth reading.”

**

THOMAS HOWARD, author of Christ the Tiger and The Novels of Charles Williams

“In a prefatory note Paul Borgman remarks that Genesis has proved to be the most difficult book with which he and his literature classes have struggled over the years. If this strikes you as anomalous, then you are the one to read this book on Genesis. Borgman is a vastly astute and massively well-read critic. I have never read a book like this—and I am deeply bothered by some of it. I don’t like my suppositions haled up for remorseless scrutiny. But I do like Borgman’s lucid English prose, and his assiduity as a biblical scholar.”

**

JAMES S. ACKERMAN, Indiana University, editor of Literary Interpretations of Biblical Narrative, author of Teaching the Bible as Literature

“Paul Borgman is an exciting and experienced teacher, and this book on Genesis—not your standard biblical commentary—comes from many years of dialogue in the classroom. It is a work that will prove interesting and useful both to laypersons and to college students. I highly recommend it.”

**

LELAND RYKEN, Wheaton College, coeditor of A Complete Literary Guide to the Bible and Dictionary of Biblical Imagery

“The subtitle of Paul Borgman’s book signals the nature of his achievement, namely, the ability to look closely at an ancient text that seems elusive to a modern reader. The virtues of this beautifully written book include its willingness to wrestle with the baffling aspects of Genesis, its unobtrusive but conscientious attention to scholarship on Genesis, its systematic coverage of the entire book of Genesis, its unfolding of the richness of human experience to be found in Genesis, and the fresh slant provided by a literary approach to the text. Paul Borgman has lived closely with Genesis for twenty-five years. This book is a mature and triumphant sharing of what he has discovered.”

And finally, a blog review (Richard Kew) and a personal email of thanks, from Hong Kong:

Reviewed by Richard Kew

<richardkew@aol.com>

For a reason that is best known to God and my soul, I have spent most of the last couple of years studying, restudying, and then restudying again the first two or three books of the Bible.  Somehow, I found myself getting to the end of what I thought was the process and something else would come up, prodding me to dive back into the Penteteuchal waters.  I began to feel like a friend, an Old Testament scholar, whose wife complained early in his ministry that he never seemed to preach from anywhere but Genesis!

Some months ago, when I thought I was ready to move on to another part of the Scriptures at long last, Paul Borgman’s book, Genesis – The Story We Haven’t Heard, arrived in the mail.  At first, I tried to ignore it, but after a couple of weeks, like a Pavlovian dog, I was incapable of preventing myself from leaping once again into these particular Old Testament waters.

Borgman, a college professor of literature, has used Genesis as a primary text for one of the classes that he teaches.  The fruit of that exercise is the substance of his book.  His approach flies in the face of the methodology behind so much biblical scholarship in the last 150 years, for instead of breaking the text up into smaller and smaller segments that are then analyzed to death, he gets us to see and read the story as a whole – starting at the beginning and finishing at the end.  Borgman challenges us to look at Genesis as a rich interweave of tales that make up the larger story of God making himself known, especially to his friend, Abraham, and Abraham and Sarah’s heirs and successors.

What Borgman does is to let the narrative speak for itself about the human condition and about God’s way of enabling transformation in the flow of human affairs.  At the same time he helps us to dig beneath the mere words, uncovering rich veins for us to mine.  His method, however, presses us not to lose sight of the essence of the text as we use literary, theological, and historical skills to untangle what it said to its earliest readers – and, therefore, what it is saying to us today.

There is, however, one primary organizing principle: Borgman points out that from a human point of view the whole saga from chapter one to chapter fifty is about the fundamental human need to make a name for ourselves.  The first eleven chapters, he suggests, are like snapshots in an album, and they illustrate the family resemblance.  “The dark truth of each character is tied to that of the others by a similarly sinister but ordinary way of being in the world.  It’s all so human, so perfectly normal, this disposition to promote oneself at other’s expense.  What once was – Eden’s harmony, intimacy and pleasure – is lost.  With unnerving clarity, this preface illustrates the distance between the ideal and its loss” (Page 233).

What this book does is ask us to read the text and see what the text says, rather than, as we are so prone to do, importing our own ideas, presuppositions, and interpretations.  I found it fascinating that there are few cross-references in this book, and there is no mention of the New Testament vision at all.  That is not to say that the wider revelation is not there lurking at the back of Borgman’s mind, but he wants us to draw the connections for ourselves when we have read and understood exactly what the original narrative is saying.

I found myself, as I worked through Genesis with Borgman’s book, discovering whole layers of the story of four generations of patriarchs that I had never noticed before, as well as their interconnection – and that is not for want of looking on my part in years past.  For example, after the first eleven disastrous chapters, we are introduced to Abraham, together with all his strengths and shortcomings, peculiarities and foibles.  Abraham learns from God that he and his seed are to be a blessing to all peoples.  Then we are shown how this promise begins to be fulfilled in the midst of human fallenness, until there is Joseph feeding the whole of the eastern Mediterranean because of the position into which he found himself thrust in Egypt, thereby being a blessing to a wider humankind than just the clan of Abraham.

As I have studied Genesis with the Bible in one hand and Borgman in the other, what has been happening is that I have been learning how to read the text in a different, perhaps more attentive, manner.  I have discovered how to unpack characters, and also how to unpack those seemingly unlikely tales that suddenly are parachuted into the larger story, like that of Judah’s misconduct with his daughter-in-law, Tamar, in chapter 38, for example.  What Borgman does is use the literary critic’s insight to ask why such a detail is there, and then to search within the wider tale for an answer to his question.

Borgman’s book is a delight, and I hope that he does not stop writing at this point because there is probably a great deal more he can teach us.  I would hazard that as we move deeper into postmodernity, an age in which narratives are becoming substantially important, what Paul Borgman is teaching us is that we need to see what the story is actually saying rather than allowing it to come to us second-hand, transported along on some scholar or pastor or journalist’s presuppositions.

Those of us who take the Scriptural text seriously are often wooden and graceless in the way in which we handle it.  As a result we miss the subtleties as well as the broad sweep of God’s message to us.  I am delighted to have spent three months in his company, because I come away from Genesis this time a far richer, and I hope humbler, Christian.

**

Dear Prof. Borgman

I’ve finally found a book on Genesis that is fit for teaching, and devotional and academic pondering. Thanks for your “The Story We haven’t Heard” and I’m on my way to unlearn and relearn the messages in Genesis. 

A Thankful Reader in Hong Kong.

             Yan Wing So

So_Yan_Wing@mouchel.com.hk  [/bg_collapse][/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css_animation=”” row_type=”row” use_row_as_full_screen_section=”no” type=”full_width” angled_section=”no” text_align=”left” background_image_as_pattern=”without_pattern”][vc_column][vc_empty_space height=”40px”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css_animation=”” row_type=”row” use_row_as_full_screen_section=”no” type=”full_width” angled_section=”no” text_align=”left” background_image_as_pattern=”without_pattern” padding_bottom=”30″ z_index=”” el_id=”section3″ css=”.vc_custom_1551211145286{margin-bottom: 30px !important;}”][vc_column width=”2/3″][vc_column_text][/vc_column_text][vc_empty_space height=”30px”][vc_column_text]

Reviews from Peer-Reviewed journals

J.E. Tollington, Journal for the Study of the Old Testament, 2009

In this monograph B. challenges readers to engage with the story of David in the books of Samuel and Kings with the ears and interpretative skills of an ancient audience rather than the methodology of modern readers or literary critics.

Initially he reviews recent scholarship that focuses on interpreting the story‘s final form and draws attention to what he perceives as weaknesses in the approach adopted or conclusions reached. According to B. the story is unified and has been carefully crafted, making deliberate use of patterns and repetitions, so that a ‘reader‘ is prompted to recall a memory from earlier in the story both to enhance understanding and to move the story forwards.

Each chapter explores one or two of the patterns identified by B. through a close reading of the relevant sections of the biblical text whereby the whole story is studied. He argues that the story concerns the identity, character and intentions of Saul, David and above all, the God of the Bible. Through the complexity of the narrative, the choices made by the major participants, the good and bad outcomes that result, the messiness through which the story moves and the indeterminate future to which it always points, the audience ultimately comes to know God, a God whose steadfast loyalty towards Israel‘s well-being is unchanging even though the divine mind can and does change.

B.offers a new way of understanding ambiguous or seemingly contradictory texts which is a welcome contribution to this field of study. [bg_collapse view=”link” color=”#4a4949″ expand_text=”Show More” collapse_text=”Show Less” ]

**

Graeme Auld, New College, University of Edinburgh
          Theological Review, volume 21, no.1, 2009

From the formulation of his title onwards, Borgman gives us confidence that he is confronting two of the principal themes of the book of Samuel: why was(an admittedly flawed) David more to the divine liking than Saul, and what does this tell us about the nature of God in this book? He finds his answers by exploring a selection of the patterns of varying repetition: anointing’s, sparing’s, sinning’s, responses-to-death-news, and the make-up of leadership….All of these are interesting; and most of them convincing. Twice David spares Saul’s life. On the second occasion David has Saul in his power, but spares his life (1 Samuel 26), he does not just recall the first, but also reminds us of his earlier lone self moving confidently into Goliath’s space.

In a final chapter, he checks his reading of Samuel by comparing its David and Yahweh with Homer’s Odysseus and his divine patron Athene.

There are minor mistakes, but not many: Jerusalem-born Solomon was not senior to Hebron-born Adonijah; the Shimei of 1 Kings 1 is unlikely to be the same man as the always carefully introduced ‘Shimei ben Gera the Benjaminite from Bahurim’.

It is particularly pleasing that Borgman takes 2 Samuel 21-24 very seriously as integral to the book and vital to its interpretation: Saul illustrating again with the Gibeonites his capacity to ruin even a good thing; flawed David always able to confess and seek forgiveness; and what it can possibly mean for such

a sinful king to claim integrity before Yahweh (2 Samuel 22:21-31). He buttresses his case by extending the parameters of the text under review to include the bleak kingless chapters at the end of Judges and the opening of 1 Kings, with Solomon on the throne, the temple built, and the ark installed there (1 Kings 8).

Yet, had he applied his method to studying the many comparators in Samuel to the progressive collapse throughout 1-2 Kings of two monarchies, he might have developed a third principal theme of Samuel: that kingship itself, though better illustrated in David than in Saul, is still unsatisfactory to Yahweh Barbara Green’s powerful reading of 1 Samuel (How Are the Mighty Fallen?, 2003) is listed but never discussed.

**

Comments solicited by the publisher (Oxford University Press)::
I.

Everett Fox, Allen M. Glick Professor of Judaic and Biblical Studies, Clark University, and author of The Five Books of Moses: A New English Translation with Commentary and Notes

In an era of numerous deconstructions and reconstructions of the Hebrew Bible’s David, Paul Borgman has produced a detailed and thoughtful close reading of the accounts found in Samuel and the opening of Kings. Acknowledging the veneration and vilification applied to ‘Israel’s greatest, if massively flawed king’ by traditional and recent interpreters, Borgman seeks to unravel the mystery of who David is, making pointed use of the text’s significant patterns of repetition. While engaging fully with recent literary scholarship on Saul and David, Borgman sets out in a fruitful direction of his own, examining the larger seep of the narrative fully incorporating such oft-misunderstood sections as the ‘Appendix’ of II Samuel 21-24. In helping us to see David in both his unabated complexity and his ability to grow morally, Borgman makes new sense of texts which are often viewed as ambiguous or contradictory. His reading illuminates Saul, David, and, above all, the God of the Bible.”

**

II.
Peter D. Miscall, author of 1Samuel and Reading Isaiah

In a literary reading of the books of Samuel, Borgman makes special used of both small and large patterns of repetition to develop his view of David. He sets it against other depictions of David, especially those presenting a dark, questionable David. His book is an excellent introduction the the complexity of the biblical portrait of David and to the contemporary study of biblical narrative.

**

III.
Walter Brueggemann, Professor Emeritus, Columbia Theological Seminary, and author of First and Second Samuel

Borgman undertakes an important study of the narratives in which he lays out, in an astute way, the artistic patterns that shape the narrative in quite intentional ways. While Borgman of course cannot offer and ‘final interpretation,’ his scholarship opens new ways of seeing and reading, and is a welcome contribution to a growing literature. [/bg_collapse][/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_empty_space height=”30px”][vc_single_image image=”386″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” qode_css_animation=”” el_class=”image-border”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css_animation=”” row_type=”row” use_row_as_full_screen_section=”no” type=”full_width” angled_section=”no” text_align=”left” background_image_as_pattern=”without_pattern”][vc_column][vc_empty_space height=”40px”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css_animation=”” row_type=”row” use_row_as_full_screen_section=”no” type=”full_width” angled_section=”no” text_align=”left” background_image_as_pattern=”without_pattern” z_index=”” el_id=”section4″][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_single_image image=”379″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” qode_css_animation=”” el_class=”image-border”][vc_empty_space height=”15px”][/vc_column][vc_column width=”2/3″][vc_column_text]

Reviews, from Peer-Reviewed Journals:

Thelologische Literaturzeiting, 132 (2007) 6 (translation, Joanna Epling)

Borgman wishes us to learn to hear, since the Lukan double work [Luke and Acts] itself goes back to oral tradition and must have been read aloud originally.  A professor of English at Gordon College in Wenham/Massachusetts, the author chooses the path of narrative exegesis, managing almost completely without diachronic analyses.  In his introduction (1-15) he states the problems inherent to modern-day recipients of the Lukan writings and communicates in this way his own motivation: To promote a better understanding, we should not just read but read aloud the text of Luke’s Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles in their total context, not split up into individual text portions.  Borgman’s work is easy to read because of its clear structure, and he addresses it to exegetes, as well as to students and interested laypeople.  The latter will presumably not mind the absence of a discussion with other scholarly authors and approaches, though the first readership might.  There is no attempt to structure the work into the history of research or to synchronize it with the concert of Luke-exegeses, and Borgman’s remarks limit themselves mostly to Biblical references.

It is clear that those attempting to delineate the entire Lukan works in one book cannot offer any detailed individual exegeses – Borgman sketches the broad strokes of the narrative and studies the places and themes that seem to him most important.  With short italicized passages at the beginnings and ends of individual sections, he creates reader-friendly headlines.  He also encapsulates his conclusions in precise summaries. [bg_collapse view=”link” color=”#4a4949″ expand_text=”Show More” collapse_text=”Show Less” ]

Borgman tries to connect the theme of the “Way” (not in the geographical or biographical sense, however) to the Lukan double work as a whole, and so he calls the first part of his work on Lk 1:1-9:50 (17-74) the narrative preparation for the Way.  Just as he recognizes in Mary an exemplary person for Luke’s request, so he shows in different places that the auctor ad Theophilum is an author very adept at composing and a brilliant wordsmith.  Mary is a type insofar as she “hears” God’s word and acts appropriately (23-25); that is, she demonstrates obedience – and so she is on the Way.  Borgman sees twelve preparatory pieces of poetry (“clustered poems”) in the first part of Luke’s gospel, to which he adds Lk 1:46-55 and 1:67-79, but also 4:18-19 and 6:20-49.  The content of these texts centers on the Peace as all-encompassing “shalom – justice” that Jesus is supposed to bring (28).  As Luke places these admittedly positive aspects in the limelight, he also broaches the issue of opposing forces (Satan, demons, darkness; 54-74) and shows in this way how important the fight for justice is, which again makes clear why a large treatise is necessary to communicate that which is crucial to the gospel (72).

Logically consistent, Borgman recognizes in Lk 9:51-19:44 a section teaching the principles of the Way (75-214) and he shows that Luke has fashioned a well-thought-out ring composition whose center is Lk 13:23-30 (see Organizational-overview [78]).  Here it is however critical to ask how a “hearer” of the gospel according to Luke can deduce such an extensive compositional design.  Is it really possible to connect these distant “echoes” to their initial presence in the text?  Even Borgman’s arranged themes are certainly not in all places as obvious as he claims, which is probably also because he has bound together the content of several pericopes.  According to this principle, Lk 9:51-10:24 and 18:35-19:44 would coincide thematically in that they focus on peace (77-96).  The same would be true of Lk 10:25 and 18:15-34 in their joint handling of eternal life.  Borgman works out further themes of the Lukan travelogue as prayer, the question of sign (Zeichen) and status, poverty and wealth, the renunciation of property, privileges, family and old religious ties (111-202).  The travelogue is for him a way or a journey, since he sees it as the story of the journey to the Kingdom of God, compared with whose importance geographical details play a peripheral role.  In any case, Luke creates in this way a dramatic tension between the Kingdom of God and Jerusalem – this is proven not least by the “bull’s eye” of the ring-composition, the pericope of the narrow gate and the closed door (203-214).  For Borgman, this is at the heart of Lukan theology; he shows much less attention to Jesus’ stay in Jerusalem and to the Passion story (Lk 19:45-24:53), a section that Borgman names as indicative of the Way.

In the fourth part of his work, Borgman turns to the book of Acts, which focuses on the ever-broadening Way (247-372).  While Luke’s gospel introduces and develops the themes of the Way, Luke’s second work no longer puts a strong emphasis on the content of the new teaching, instead of reaching back to Jesus’ initial teaching, outlining its effects (263).  The first chapter features a doubling of the Ascension account (249-263); then follow seven chapters with 19 structured speeches.  It is here that Borgman sees the material of central importance to the author, so that the narrative passages and the geographic notes and progression are only of peripheral interest.  One wonders whether this is appropriate for a work with a programmatic beginning such as the one found in Acts 1:8.  Borgman shows the principles of organization in the speeches and outlines their exemplary structures (c.f. also the overview charts, for example 279, 307, 325).  In this way, [that] the first three speeches of Peter follow the scheme of Jesus’ last speech in Luke 24:44-49: the centrality of the Resurrection, Conversion/Repentance, and the Holy Spirit/Empowerment (264-279).  Stephen’s speech, says Borgman, marks a turning-point in Acts, since with the opening to the pagans, the Way widens literally, especially after Peter presents it as free (293-308).

In the portion of the text concerning Paul, Borgman recognizes the two speeches (Acts 13:16-41; 28:25-28) signs of framing.  While the first is paradigmatic in its handling of the Israel-theme, the last speech shows with its “bittersweet” tone the discrepancy in the idea that some will be saved, others lost (323).  Borgman believes it is of primary importance that peace will come to the nations through Israel (324).  The “Gospel” according to Paul, especially recognizable in the speeches in Acts 17:22-31 and 20:18-35, is characterized by the nonappearance of forgiveness of sins and sacrificial death.  Instead, the system of sacrificial offering is replaced by a particularly Lukan vision:  every “Wayfarer” bears the responsibility of the consequences of other people’s misconduct by doing good for others and bringing peace to the outsiders (326-339).  Of Paul’s three defense-speeches Acts (21, 24 26), Borgman sees the last one as offering an excellent overview of Pauline theology from Luke’s perspective (340-354).  The three-fold mention of Paul’s conversion experience in Acts (9, 22 and 26) shows, finally, the huge significance of the Conversion-theme as turning away from darkness and towards the light (355-372).

Borgman closes his work with the idea that in Acts 16:30ff we can see the entire message of Luke in nuce (373ff).  Using nine key concepts, he delineates Lukan theology, at the center of which he sees the declaration of peace through Jesus Christ, a peace that is accepted and shared by people who hear God’s word and act in obedience to it.  This is the Way of which Luke speaks (374-391).

Borgman presents us with an interpretation of the Lukan double work, whose metaphor of the Way draws its recipients on an unexpected journey. It is his goal to inspire us to the Lukan notion of hearing the Word of the Lord as we listen aurally to Luke and Acts; however, the question of whether the hearer is actually in a position to recognize and receive the details of Luke’s composition as Borgman offers them remains to be explored in greater detail.

**

Sharon H. Ringe, Wesley Theological Seminary, Washington, DC

Dr. Borgman’s book begins with the premise that modern practices of reading the Gospel of Luke and the book of Acts separately—and, even worse, reading isolated pericopes—instead of hearing the two volumes read aloud as a single work, mask the true genius and significance of Luke’s project. He uses literary critical techniques, and narrative criticism in particular, to attempt to counter-balance the deficiencies produced by those modern reading practices.

Each term in the book’s title is important in B.’s analysis of Luke-Acts. According to B. “the Way” summarizes that which is taught and demonstrated by Jesus (in the Gospel) and by redeemed Israel in Jesus’ name (in Acts). That Way is further described as the “way of salvation,” the reign of God, and the “way of peace,” and it must be both understood and practiced. “According to Luke” calls readers to engage in the Evangelist’s project as outlined in both volumes of his work—God’s purposes seen in the events around Jesus, especially as those are demonstrated in Acts. “Hearing” is the mode by which B. understands that Luke’s narrative is to be grasped, and he highlights “hearing-clues” in the dominant patterns of repetition by which the story’s themes, characters, and actions unfold. “The whole story” expresses B.’s determination that the two volumes of Luke’s work be seen as a single whole, and that narrative be recognized as Luke’s means of carrying out his historical and theological goals.

Despite his focus on reading (or hearing) Luke’s two books as a single narrative, B.’s analysis of the various constituent units (down to individual pericopes) is clear and fresh. While most of the study follows the narrative order in moving through the pericopes of each section that elaborates one aspect of “the Way,” B. discerns a chiastic structure of the journey narrative (Luke 9:51-19:44) that demonstrates the literary and thematic integrity of that important section of Luke’s Gospel. Even if it stood alone, that section of B.’s book would be worth the price of the whole.

Borgman has presented a readable and accessible study of Luke-Acts. It is that accessibility and the conciseness of his book that distinguishes it from those of B.’s many colleagues on whose work he draws, and whose various perspectives he draws together in a single volume. Combining as it does critical insight and theological and pastoral sensitivity, this is a book that could well be assigned in a seminary or advanced college course on Luke-Acts, and it would be an excellent resource for pastors or educators who are working with those books (for example, during Year C of the lectionary cycle).

Comments solicited by the publisher (Eerdmans):
Joel B. Green, author of NICNT volume on Luke and The Theology of the Gospel of Luke

“In this exploration of Luke’s literary art, Paul Borgman displays his significant gifts as sensitive reader and trusted guide. Although fully engaged with contemporary study of Luke-Acts, he is no slave to ‘the experts’ as he demonstrates again and again how Luke’s narrative works to shape our grasp of Luke’s literary and theological agenda. Biblical studies is the richer on account of this sort of interdisciplinary work.

**

Robert W. Wall,  author of NIB commentary on Acts

“This fine study from Paul Borgman examines the narrative coherence of Luke’s gospel and his Acts from the perspective of an auditor, who likely would have been among the first beneficiaries of Luke’s literary masterpiece. Repeated themes and wordplays are ‘ear clues’ that not only frame the plotline of a good story but more importantly supply the rich texture of the core beliefs of a biblical faith. Borgman’s formalist treatment of Luke and Acts amply shows the importance of a careful analysis of literary patterns in guiding the theological interpretation of biblical narrative.”

**

James L. Resseguie, author of Narrative Criticism of the New Testament: An Introduction

“Paul Borgman gives us an engaging and lively reading of Luke-Acts that attends to the balanced patterns, narrative echoes, and interlocking themes of Luke’s two-part story. By reading the narrative on its own terms as narrative art, Borgman recovers what is often missed — a coherent and compelling story of God’s message of peace. The Way according to Luke sets high the standard for how to read and hear New Testament narratives, and is certain to stir interest in biblical stories as artistic, unified narratives.” [/bg_collapse][/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css_animation=”” row_type=”row” use_row_as_full_screen_section=”no” type=”full_width” angled_section=”no” text_align=”left” background_image_as_pattern=”without_pattern”][vc_column][vc_empty_space height=”40px”][/vc_column][/vc_row]