Part 8
Some of the etymologies above reviewed differ from this conclusion. They would lay the stress on the passive side of the prophetic experience. Apart from etymology, two motives underlie this unbiblical preference. By representing the prophet as chiefly passive the way is prepared for conceiving him after a rude, primitive fashion, as not in control of himself, being powerfully affected by a strange extraneous compulsion. On the other hand, the passivizing of the form suits the modern desire for assimilating the prophetic experience as much as possible to the common experience of religion, for that can be done only through bringing out the subjective, experiential side.
The two linguistic arguments adduced for the passive understanding are, in the first place, that nabhi', after the pattern of qatil, must be meant passively, and in the second place, that the only verbal forms occurring in connection with the word are the Niphal and Hithpael
species. It must be conceded that the qatil-form often has passive meaning. For example, mashiach is, not the one who anoints, but the anointed one. Still this is by no means uniformly so. There are quite a number of active nouns of this formation, such as paqid, 'overseer'. In the Arabic, Ethiopic, and Assyrian languages qatil is the regular form for the Qal active participle. As to the verbal forms, we must remember that, while the Niphal is both passive and reflexive, the Hithpael is never passive, but always reflexive. The fact is that both are reflexive, being derivatives from the noun nabhi', and signify simply 'to conduct oneself as a nabhi'.
THE GREEK TERM 'PROPHETES'
With this enquiry into the meaning of nabhi' we may combine a brief discussion of its Greek equivalent, prophētēs, from which our word prophet has come. We associate with this mostly the idea of 'foreteller'. This is not in accord with the original Greek etymology. The preposition 'pro' in the composition does not express the timesense of 'beforehand'. It has local significance; the prophētēs is a forth-teller. The Greek term, however, has religious associations no less than the Hebrew one. Prophētēs is the one who speaks for the oracle. Thus it might seem, that with the 'pro' correctly understood, the Hebrew nabhi' and the Greek prophētēs were practically synonyms. This, however, would be misleading. The Greek prophētēs does not stand in the same direct relation to the deity as the Hebrew nabhi' does. In reality he is the interpreter of the oracular, dark utterances of the Pythia, or some other inspired person, whom, from the depth underneath, the godhead of the shrine inspires. The Pythia would thus stand at the same remove from deity as the nabhi', but the prophētēs is separated from the deity by this intervening person. Prophētēs is therefore rather an interpreter than a mouth-piece of what the god speaks through the one he directly inspires. He adds of his own, not merely the illumination of the oracle, but also the form in which he clothes the meaning apperceived.
Those who scorn the idea of what they contemptuously call 'verbatim inspiration' move rather along the Hellenic than along the Biblical line. It is precisely the Greek prophētēs, and not the Old Testament nabhi' who has this freedom of movement they think so desirable. And not merely are the nabhi' and the prophētēs different, but this difference is in the last analysis due to the difference between the Biblical Jehovah and the pagan god. Phoebus Apollo speaks, or rather speaks not. He utters dark, incomprehensible sounds. Then the Pythia, herself upon her tripod under the influence of the narcotic fumes arising from the cleft, needs likewise a prophētēs for rendering the oracular noise intelligible to ordinary mortals. But the Biblical God is light in Himself and His word gives light to all who seek it, although He uses the nabhi' as His transmitter. Somewhat of the savour of subjectivity always clung to the Hellenic term. A philosopher is prophētēs of immortal nature. Poets are prophētai of the Muses. These are, of course, metaphors, but none the less they arise out of the apperception of the vague character of divine inspiration, belonging to the whole complex of pagan experience from which they spring.
It is no wonder, then, that the word prophētēs, taken into the service of Biblical religion, had to undergo a baptism of regeneration, before it could be properly used. And, since so much of the task of the Old Testament nabhi' consisted, as a matter of fact, in prediction, the Biblical-Greek usage naturally put this into its regenerated prophētēs. Although this was etymologically wrong, it was not so theologically. The New Testament already puts a quite perceptible chronological stress on the preposition pro. There can be no doubt but, when the Evangelist Matthew writes numerous times, 'this happened in order that it might be fulfilled that was written by the prophet', etc., he associates with the word 'prophet' the idea of foretelling, which the Hebrew word nabhi' has not, although the nabhi'-function has.
Some of the Greek fathers, who might have been more sensitive to Greek idiom, forgot the locally-projectory sense of pro, and
substituted for it the chronological sense. Thus Chrysostom observes: 'For prophēteia is nothing else but the proclamation beforehand of things to come.' Augustine, as a matter of etymological definition, quite correctly says: 'The prophet of God is nothing else but the enunciator of the words of God to men.' When he, however, adds: 'men, who either are not able to, or do not deserve to hear God', this goes beyond the import of both nabhi' and the Biblical prophētēs. Although thus the New Testament and the fathers may have sacrificed somewhat of etymological correctness, we should remember that their interest lay not in philology. The modern tendency to minimize the predictive element, and lay well-nigh exclusive stress on the teaching function, is far more one-sided and misleading than the popular impression that the prophets were foretellers of coming events. Still the original meaning of prophētēs as an exact translation of nabhi' is by no means entirely lost sight of in the New Testament [cp. Heb. 1:1].
THE TERMS 'RO'EH' AND 'CHOZEH'
So much for nabhi' and its equivalent, prophētēs. We now come to two other names, ro'eh, and its synonym chozeh. These two names are translated into Biblical English by 'seer' without distinction. For determining their import the point at issue is: do they refer to supernatural insight (metaphorically), or are they descriptive of a specific visionary mode of receiving what is conveyed by God? In themselves the two verbs could easily bear a metaphorical interpretation. But it is not so easy to apply this notion to the noun. We do not usually say that a person has, or has had, a sight, when we simply mean that he evinces deeper insight into certain matters than the average man. Yet the object-nouns of the verbs are quite freely used. The verbs must at first have related to a visionary process or product in the technical sense. Later on their sense was generalized; they came to mean 'revelation' by whatever process obtained, through hearing no less than vision. But this did not make them metaphors. We shall see, later on, how this generalizing came about in the regular development of the mode of prophetic revelation. The
word 'seer' refers to an extraordinary influence brought to bear on the seeing-faculty of the prophet, by which he was made to see things, instead of hearing them, with the same result that through this seeing a message of divine provenience was introduced into his consciousness. The two terms differ from nabhi' in that the latter describes the active function of speaking for transmission of the message, whereas 'seer' describes the passive experience of being made acquainted with the message ocularly. To this, of course, would correspond the hearing which receives the speech of God.
Koenig, in his work entitled The Old Testament Conception of Revelation, has endeavoured to establish a distinction between chozeh and ro'eh. He thinks that ro'eh is used of true prophets only, whereas chozeh would, if not exclusively, yet predominantly be applied to false prophets. Isa. 28:7 shows that ro'eh is not avoided with reference to false prophets. According to Isa. 30:10, the two terms are quite synonymous [cp. further 2 Chron. 16:7, 10]. And the nouns for 'vision' are taken from both roots without any perceptible difference.
There are other designations of the prophets, more of a descriptive nature, and not rising to the rank of formal names. Such are tzopheh, metzappeh (outlooker, watchman); mal'akh Jahveh (messenger of Jehovah); ro'eh (shepherd); 'ish haruach (man of the Spirit); 'ish ha'elohim (man of God). These either explain themselves or will find their explanation in connection with those features of prophecy of which they are descriptive.
THREE:
THE HISTORY OF PROPHETISM:
CRITICAL THEORIES
The term 'prophet' is not always used in the stiff, strict technical sense we are accustomed to combine with it. As 'vision' came in course of time to stand for revelation in general, so 'prophet' could be equivalent to 'instrument of revelation' without particular regard to technical sense, distinguishing a prophet from other organs of revelation. Moses is called a prophet, and yet is set over against the prophets as to his communication with God [Num. 12:6ff.]. In Gen. 20:7, Abraham is called a prophet. The meaning here seems to be one who has special acquaintance with God, and can intercede for others. To this Psa. 105:15, refers, where the synonym is 'anointed ones'. Amos speaks of prophets raised up in the distant past [2:11]. Hosea calls Moses a prophet [12:13]. Peter, in Acts 3:21, 24, uses in succession the wider sense and the specialized application: 'holy prophets which have been since the world began', and 'all the prophets from Samuel and them that followed after'. This recognizes that there was an incision in the history of revelation in the time of Samuel, that prophecy in a new form began from that date. The reason for this has been explained above.
THE HISTORY OF PROPHETISM
We can take our point of departure for the history of prophetism in the time of Moses. Not only were there prophets at that time among Israel, but they represented, with the exception of Moses, whose case was unique, the prevailing form of revelation. Their position was a privileged one. Nor was this entirely due to pre-eminence of office. It is evident that a religious pre-eminence was involved. Moses, in Num. 11:29, expressed the desire that all the Lord's people might be
prophets. This clearly shows that from the first there was a religious as much as a functional value found in the appearance and exercise of the office. This appraisal runs through the entire history of prophecy from beginning to end. The divine promise in Joel 2:28–32 extends it into the eschatological age. Not only is Israel honoured by having prophets, the greater honour is that the people are intended to become prophets. Jer. 31:34 is of the same tenor. Afterwards the functional position of the prophets is raised. From inferior to Moses, they become in prospect like unto Moses, with an approach even to the prophetic dignity of the Christ [Deut. 18:15; Acts 3:22].
During the first stage of the new epoch in the history of prophetism, which dates from Samuel, the difference from what had existed before lay in two points. On the one hand, the office obtained a more public theocratic background for its activity in the newly-established kingdom. On the other hand, the number of prophets shows a large increase, especially if we count in the groups of collective prophets associated with such men as Samuel. Prophetism, as attached to the kingdom, did not on that account lose any of its independence. The events in the reigns of Saul and David in turn, upheld and restrained by the prophetic leaders of the time, are sufficient proof of this. A mere religious appendix of the kingdom prophecy never was. In course of time, as the occupants of the throne degenerated, it became the very opposite, an institution to counterbalance and reprove, or even to reject. But on the whole, during this first stage of development, the attitude of the prophets towards the kingdom was a friendly, fostering, protective one. Especially was this the case in the line of the Davidic succession.
As apostasy reared its head, both in the kings and among the nation, the relationship was altered. Prophets and kings stood over against each other. The keynote of prophecy having become the message of overthrow, the kings, who naturally believed in the conservation of what existed, could not fail to regard the prophets with suspicion and antagonism. The prophets were from their standpoint lacking in patriotism, in fact traitors. This change of base on both sides is
followed by the invasion of apostasy into the ranks of the prophets themselves. The contrast between true and false prophets begins to play a role. False prophecy encroached to such an extent upon the true, as to bring the whole office into discredit. Zechariah predicts that in the better order of affairs to come, parents will disavow a son laying claim to prophetic calling, nay, that the quasi-prophets themselves shall be ashamed of the calling. Prophesying and an unclean spirit are put on a line [13:2–6]. This is quite a different reason for the supersession of prophecy from that forecast in Jer. 31:34, and the opposite of the favourable forecast of Joel, which hearkens back to the Mosaic era.
It has been attempted to derive the corruption of prophecy in some way from the collective form which the latter developed. This is unjust so far as the earlier stage of the history of this movement is concerned. It coincides, as we have seen, with the religious and patriotic revival that occurred in the age of Samuel, and can scarcely be discredited without discrediting in principle the whole movement of which it formed a part. The same observation can be made in regard to its intensified activity in the age of Elijah and Elisha. The historical writers plainly stamp it with their approval [1 Sam. 3:1]. It is not easy, however, to define the exact relation between individual prophetism and group-prophetism. We meet with the groupprophets first in 1 Sam. 10:5. The word here used is chethel, 'band', 'company'. The same meaning belongs to another word, Lehaqah, found in 19:20. A 'school' in any academic sense these words cannot describe. After this these designations are not met with again. But something analogous appears in the history of Elijah. The name here is 'sons of the prophets' [1 Ki. 20:35; 2 Ki. 2:3; 4:38; 6:1]. The only subsequent reference to this name is in Amos 7:14.
'Sons of the prophets' might be descriptive of the relation of submission and attachment in which these bands lived with great individual leaders. Or it might be simply an instance of the Hebrew idiom, which, by putting 'son' before some noun, indicates that a person is possessed of the character the noun expresses. In that case
'sons of the prophets' might not differ from the simple 'prophets'. Of course, the phrase is not a genealogical designation. But the second view also meets with the objection that some sort of distinction is clearly suggested. Amos even makes the statement that he was at the time of his calling neither a prophet nor a prophet's son disjunctively. What is the distinction? Some have attempted to seek it along the line of prophets as recipients of revelation and as cultivators of religious enthusiasm. Koenig has characterized the leading prophets as 'primary', the group-prophets as 'secondary'. He thinks the secondary prophets were mere preachers. Supernatural disclosures were not confined to the leading prophets.
The term 'preachers' is apt to obscure the very point in which perhaps a difference between individual prophets and band-prophets can be discovered. The group-prophets do not seem to have been employed in the transmission of truth as the others were. The individual prophets, therefore, were the 'preachers'. That the collective bodies were recipients of supernaturally-communicated truth is plain, nevertheless. They 'prophesied', and this can scarcely mean anything else than that they had been touched by the Spirit in a supernatural manner.
The strange bodily manifestations that took place among them likewise bear witness to that fact. These extraordinary phenomena must be attributed to the Spirit as much as were the analogous peculiar phenomena in the early New Testament Church. The Spirit has not his exclusive function in moralizing and spiritualizing. He can work also in the sphere of the semi-intelligible. Music played a part both in the production and the expression of the enthusiasm characteristic of these circles, and music lies on the border-land of that reign of feeling where mysterious forces play upon the soul, of which even he who experiences them cannot give a clear account to himself. We must not classify such things depreciatingly. They were different from bodily convulsions of purely pathological origin. They have their contact with the centre of the religious, spiritual life. As
regards music, it is interesting to note that, according to 1 Chron. 25:1, the temple-singers by their singing 'prophesied'.
Taking these things into account, we shall be kept from drawing too sharp a line of division between the individual and the groupprophets. Individuals from the groups were selected to execute errands for the others. Sometimes a group-prophet was made an individual one. There seems, however, to be no evidence that the functions and experiences of the collective prophets were lifeoccupations. The call of such men as Isaiah and Jeremiah was obviously a call to life-long service. The assumption that Amos, after prophesying at Bethel, returned to his secular occupation at Tekoah finds no real support in 7:14. A point of difference between the two kinds of prophets may perhaps be found in this, that those belonging to the band-prophets had no power to do miracles [2 Ki. 6:5].
It has been asserted that Amos disavows every connection between himself and 'the sons of the prophets' [7:14]. This cannot be a correct exegesis, for the same disavowal would also include the prophets in general. Amos speaks of the sending of prophets to Israel as one of the bounties bestowed upon the people by Jehovah [2:11]. It has been overlooked that in the Hebrew form of the statement there is no predicative verb. It is just as grammatical to render: 'I was no prophet', etc.' as to render: 'I am no prophet,' etc. He was no prophet before his call, but precisely in virtue of the call he is one now. The only implied criticism that Amos seems to make of the prophets or prophets' sons of his day lies in the indignant repudiation of the priest's charge that he prophesies in order to eat bread, i.e., to support himself, and therefore should not stay at Bethel, but return to his own Judean country. We may even infer from this that Amaziah means to intimate, 'Do not take away the bread from such prophets as are native here'.
This is the first trace we discover of a deterioration within the prophetic circles. Micah later on criticizes the prophets of his own day on the same ground [3:11; Jer. 6:13]. When serious corruption of
this nature appears, we are obviously on the eve of the approach of 'false prophecy' in general. The court and temple prophets at Bethel cannot have deserved the name of true prophets. And yet there is no particular reason for finding the source of such corruption among the group-prophets. We find Isaiah gathering around himself a band of disciples. Evidently there did not attach any stigma in his day to the group-formation as such [8:16]. And in the time of Jeremiah we observe that the false prophets had individual leaders, leading them astray, so that it was no matter of individuals or groups either for good or for evil. The collective movement had as good a reason of existence as the activity of individual prophets. The crisis through which Israel passed in the time of Samuel, and again of Elijah-Elisha, was but a form of expression of a religious crisis. The issue between Philistines and Israel, and that between Canaanites and Israel, was at bottom a religious issue. We must look upon the assemblies of prophets as centres of religious life. As the priestly representation of Israel was entrusted to a tribe and family, so it was quite appropriate that companies of men, under the influence of the Spirit, should represent and typify the new Israel, through their endowment with extraordinary gifts and powers. To the individual prophets such a symbolico-typical significance likewise belonged, but in their case it was to some extent obscured by their messenger and speaker function. And herein may lie a reason why the reception of truth was common to both orders, whilst the transmission of it fell outside of the province of the prophetic groups.
The modern critical reconstruction of the history of Israel's religion has laid hold upon prophetism at two vital points. The first concerns the origin of nabhi'-ism among Israel. The second relates to the role the prophets are believed to have played from the eighth century, B.C. onwards as creators of ethical monotheism. These two points deserve separate investigation.
THE ORIGIN OF 'NABHI'-ISM' IN ISRAEL
First, then, we have the hypothesis, widely spread in critical circles, of the Canaanitish derivation of prophetism. It is believed that the movement was not an indigenous one in Israel, but by a sort of contagion passed over from the Canaanites. The arguments adduced in favour of this hypothesis are chiefly the following four:
(a) There is in Hebrew no etymology for nabhi'; the thing therefore, as well as the name, must have been an exotic thing:
(b) the peculiar phenomena of the movement remind of the wild, orgiastic character of Canaanitish nature-worship;
(c) the time of its emergence coincides with the time of closest contact and conflict with the Canaanites;
(d) the subsequent history of prophetism, its gradual purification, is most readily explained on the theory of its foreign provenience.
Our answer to these arguments is as follows: the absence of the Hebrew etymology nabhi' has in common with other offices of a religious nature. It simply proves that the function is exceedingly ancient. The word kohen, priest, likewise has no ostensible root in Hebrew, but nobody infers from this that the priesthood was a foreign importation; there is no etymology in the Canaanitish idiom any more than in the Hebrew. The enthusiastic elements of the prophetic phenomena of the period of Samuel are much exaggerated. The gusher-etymology is too uncertain and too variouslyinterpretable to furnish any solid support. Much reliance is placed on the following contexts for bearing out the view in question [1 Sam. 10:10; 19:23; 1 Ki. 18; 2 Ki. 9:11; Jer. 29:26; Hos. 9:7; Zech. 13:6]. The first two show Saul encountering bands of prophets, prophesying with them, and engaging in certain movements peculiar to their behaviour. In 1 Ki. 18 we have the account of the story of the orgy of the Baal-prophets at Carmel. 2 Ki. 9 gives the story of the officers in camp with Jehu, who spoke of the young man sent to them by Elisha as 'this mad fellow'. Hos. 9:7 has: 'the prophet is a fool, the
man of the Spirit is mad.' Jer. 29:26 reads: 'every man that is mad, and makes himself a prophet.' Zech. 13:6 speaks of the wounds (received in prophesying) which the young man will ascribe to some other cause, when disavowed and threatened with death by his parents.
It must be granted that there are some strange phenomena here. They are, however, by no means homogeneous in character. There is nothing, for example, in the remainder of the material resembling the actions of the Baal-prophets at Carmel; notice the phrase 'after their manner'. Such a thing as the cutting of themselves with knives nowhere else occurs, except, perhaps, in the decadent post-exilic period. Our danger and difficulty spring from this, that this whole group of phenomena lies so far removed from the customs and habits of our religion, that, out of astonishment at the mere facts as such, we lose sight of the great difference between the features displayed among Israel and similar features observed in pagan religion.
At the outset we should frankly acknowledge this mysterious 'irrational element' to have been an integral part of prophetism for those times. It was not a thing disapproved of, but created and sanctioned by God and the great leaders of Israel's faith. It stood in close connection with the collective form that prophetism assumed, and the fundamental significance for Old Testament revelation of which we have endeavoured above to point out.
As to the phenomena in detail some special observations may be added here. The descriptions in 1 Sam. 10 and 19 give no warrant for speaking of 'roving bands', or 'wandering dervishes'. Saul met a procession of prophets. That they roved over the whole land or through certain parts of it, is not proven by this. On the contrary, 19:20–24 indicates that at Naioth, near Ramah, they had a fixed habitation. Of 'dancing' and 'leaping' there is no mention. A distinction must further be made between what the prophets did and what happened to Saul. The passage reads: 'the Spirit of God was upon him also [that is, in like manner as upon the prophets], and he
stripped off his clothes also [in like manner], and prophesied before Samuel in like manner, and lay down naked all that day, and all that night.' Observe that with the last statement the 'also' is not repeated. The lying naked for twenty-four hours, therefore, need not have been of common occurrence among the band-prophets. It seems to have been rather a special judgment visited upon Saul, something moreover which furnished David an opportunity to escape. The ancient Versions omit the 'also' in vs. 20 likewise; if this be adopted as an emendation, the stripping off of clothes may as well have been something peculiar to Saul. At any rate the 'nakedness' was not quite the same as what we understand by that term. It need mean no more than the laying aside of the upper garment. From all this to wild, orgiastic ecstasy there is still considerable distance. Raving behaviour is reported of Saul in 1 Sam. 18:10: 'And it came to pass in the morning that the evil spirit from God came upon Saul, and he prophesied in the midst of the house … and Saul cast the javelin', etc. The verb rendered 'prophesied' is in reality a denominative from nabhi'; it means 'he behaved like a nabhi'. The point of comparison is that he behaved like one possessed of a spirit, whose words and actions are beyond his own control. But this cannot prove that the prophet in all respects was like a 'raving madman'. It only proves that a madman could be characterized by certain symptoms of prophesying.
There is still further the term meshugga' used by the officer in Jehu's camp of the messenger sent by Elisha. It means 'a mad fellow', and is still used every day as a slang term in the Yiddish language. It is now an expression of disrespect, but was not necessarily so in everybody's mouth at the time of Elisha. It is only the smart young officer in the camp who applies it with contemptuous connotation. This is not different from the way in which a company of drinking men might speak of a preacher who appeared with a message to some person of their number. It might be best rendered by 'fanatic'.
The word recurs in Hos. 9:7, in parallelism with 'ewil: 'The prophet is meshugga', the man of the Spirit is 'ewil, for the multitude of thine
iniquity and the great hatred.' These words either describe the desperate state of mind overwhelming the prophet when he sees the judgment come (in which case the true prophet is meant), or they describe the madness and foolishness of the prophet who encourages the people in their iniquitous course of action (in which case the false prophets are meant).
A third passage containing meshugga' is Jer. 29:26. It occurs here in the letter sent by Shemaiah to the priest Zephaniah. It gives the latter authority to put into prison 'every meshugga' and mithnabbe'. Vs. 27 shows that the writer reckons among this category also the prophet Jeremiah. Translating strictly, the two terms are not quite synonymous; the pair means, 'every one that is mad and pretends to be a prophet'. Besides, this is a judgment passed by a false prophet, and does not reflect the average opinion among the people. Shemaiah was the bitter enemy of Jeremiah.
Disrespect for the prophetic office has also been found in the question of 1 Sam. 10:11, 12: 'Is Saul also among the prophets?' and the further question to which it gave rise: 'And who is their father?' [cp. 19:24]. The context in which the narrative occurs makes it difficult to believe that, at least on the narrator's part, real disrespect is intended. If there originally was such to his knowledge, he would scarcely have incorporated into his account the quaint saying embodying it from mere archaeological curiosity. Samuel is depicted as standing on a footing of familiarity with these prophets: he causes the just-anointed Saul to be brought into their company. The meaning of the proverb is obscure, but it can hardly mean: 'How does such a decent man get into such disreputable company?' Equally obscure is the import of the other question. That would, on the assumption of intended disrespect, have to mean: These fellows are people of no extraction; no one knows their father. Neither of these two interpretations has anything particularly in its favour, except the circumstance that a better one has not so far been found. Proverbs are often the hardest things to interpret. The alleged disavowal of connection with the prophetic order by Amos has been
touched upon above. This disposes of the first and second arguments in favour of the derivation of nabhi'-ism from Canaan.
The third argument requires but little comment. In reality it tells much more strongly against the hypothesis under review than in favour of it. At the alleged time of the rise and spread of the movement there was strong antagonism between Israelites and Canaanites. Is it likely that a man like Samuel, who stood at the head of the theocratic-patriotic movement, should have encouraged borrowing from the enemy? In order to make this credible, it would first be necessary to assume that the entire figure of Samuel, as drawn by the historian, is a caricature.
The fourth argument is easily the most feeble of all. That foreign origin presents more favourable opportunity for improving a movement of this kind, than its indigenous character, would be hard to prove. With equal, nay, greater, force one might contend that the native growth will have more of the gradualness and native attachment, which are the basis for a desire after improvement.
DID THE LATER PROPHETS CREATE ETHICAL MONOTHEISM?
In the next place we will consider the theory of the same critical school as to the role played by the prophetic movement at a later point in history. The prophets, from the age of Amos and Hosea onwards, are credited with the discovery and establishment of the great truth of ethical monotheism, in which the distinctive and permanent value of Old Testament religion is held to reside. We here must endeavour to sketch the genesis of this belief in the prophetic circles as the critics conceive of it. The phrase 'ethical monotheism' should not be misunderstood. It is not constructed on the principle of addition, as though the prophets had stood, in the first place for monotheism, and in the second place for the ethical character of Jehovah. The real meaning is: an ethical conception of Jehovah giving rise to monotheism. It will not be overlooked that in this opinion concerning the later complexion of prophetism, the critics
assume towards the movement a favourable attitude, whilst, as just shown, the critical appraisal of its origin is highly unfavourable. This is the reason why it is so necessary, from the critical premises, to speak of gradual purification and improvement. Once the fact of ethical improvement, in an idealizing direction, has been established, there can be, perhaps, no serious difficulty about deducing monotheism from it. But the problem lies in the ethicizing of the conception of God from the starting-point of an ethically-indifferent or sub-ethical conception of Jehovah's nature and character. The construction we are offered by way of solving this problem is as follows:
The ethical element must have come in between the days of Elijah and Elisha on the one hand, and the age of Amos and Hosea on the other. Before the time of Elijah and Elisha Jehovah was only the national God of Israel. He was neither a particularly ethical being, nor the only true God. Some of His features were even ethically repellent. The prophets like Elijah and Elisha stood up for Jehovah, simply because they were greater patriots and more confirmed nationalists than the rest. Elijah's main trait is his insistence upon the exclusive right of Jehovah to the national service of Israel. Neither he nor his lesser successor protested against the calves set up at Dan and Bethel. Of course, they did represent Jehovah as the avenger of gross injustice. But this is by no means to be confounded with the prophetic view of a a century later, which made the entire relation of Israel to Jehovah rest on an ethical basis, and believed that it served a moral purpose. It did not differ in principle from the way in which a heathen deity might have been invoked in a similar situation elsewhere.
What then happened to create a difference in this respect? The course of external events became the great ethicizer in the prophetic mind. Israel suffered serious reverses in war. Such a thing, especially when of a protracted nature, was difficult to explain on the old basis of national favouritism alternating with autocratic caprice. As soon as the existence of the nation was threatened, the unsatisfactory
nature of such a crude, incalculable relationship became apparent. The smaller nations, when conquered by the large powers, not only themselves passed from the scene of history, but with them vanished their gods. The problem of the threatened existence of Israel assumed the character of a religious problem. The national god has no other reason of existence than to protect his people. Failing in this, his usefulness is at an end. The situation became even more acute when, after the danger from Syria had been averted, the Assyrian power appeared on the horizon. From Damascus one might possibly hope to escape.
The national god was not equal to such a crisis. The alternative became: Israel is saved, and then Jehovah remains, or Israel is conquered, and then Jehovah likewise is eliminated. While only the latter seemed within the range of historical possibility, the prophets of that age shrank from even contemplating such a terrible issue. They were so attached to their God, that they dared not think of His perishing. To escape from this desperate thought it was evidently necessary to detach in some way the national existence of Israel from the religious existence of Jehovah. This, of course, could be done in one way only: by incorporating some other superior element in His character, such as would surmount the ideas of national championship and favouritism towards Israel, in which no one could possibly believe any longer. It was not sufficient to say: Let Israel be sacrificed, but let Jehovah continue. What was needed in addition was a new and super-national content to fill up the gap created in the concept of Jehovah through the prospective fall of Israel.
Now it was this service which the ethical conception of God rendered to the prophets. For, if Jehovah were supremely ethical, then the ethical aims He pursued could be thought of as requiring the destruction of Israel. In that case the destruction of the nation would no longer involve the destruction of Jehovah. On the contrary, from the new standpoint, it would mean the vindication of Jehovah as to His innermost character. The prophets thus sacrificed Israel in order to save their God. At an almost exorbitant rate, as it were, they
insured their religious conviction in regard to the indestructibility of God. At bottom, and sharply looked at, it was not so much positive interest in the idealism of ethics that made them reason as they did. In reality their ethicizing of the character of Jehovah was but the indispensable prerequisite for keeping a hold upon Him. They adored Him religiously, with a deep traditional attachment, so strong, that in the case of an enforced choice they would rather lose their people than their God. The ethical character of God was a means to an end.
But how did they come to seize upon the ethical element as precisely fitted to render them this service? The answer is that the prophets were somewhat ethically gifted above the mass. They had a greater sensitivity to right and wrong. But even this was not so much to their credit as might be at first supposed. It was rather a case of goodness arising from reaction against extreme evil. For, as a fact, the moral conditions among Israel offered abundant warrant for such a reaction. Riotous living and licentiousness prevailed, especially among the upper classes. The administration of justice was thoroughly corrupt. The rich oppressed and exploited the poor. All the elements were therefore given for framing a new conception of God. The newness consisted in this, that the prophets clearly enunciated the absolute supremacy of the ethical aspect in the nature of Jehovah. The entire religion of Israel was placed by this on a new basis. All the distinctive tenets of the prophetic theology are supposed to have sprung from it. It lies at the root of the monotheism differentiating the prophets of the eighth century from the monolatry of the preceding age, beyond which even an Elijah and Elisha had not advanced. With His character of ethical absolutism Jehovah now stood unique among the gods.
Most critics agree that this monotheistic inference is clearly drawn from Jeremiah's time onward. Some difference of opinion exists as to the period between Amos and Jeremiah. According to some the writers of this period are practically monotheistic, so far as Israel is concerned, but without as yet reflecting upon the sphere outside of
Israel (so Baudissin). According to others this period is one of nascent monotheism, the prophets not expressing themselves consistently, but only occasionally passing the line between monolatry and monotheism (so Kuenen). Still others think that the whole problem had no existence for the pre-exilic prophets, that not Jeremiah, but Deutero-Isaiah, during the exile, was the first actual monotheist (so Stade). But all agree that the genesis of monotheism was after the manner described.
It ought to be further noticed that, according to the critics, the ethicism that thus came to be ascribed to Jehovah, was extreme ethicism, hyper-ethicism, as it were. It was concentrated, not in the benevolent, gracious aspects of the ethical consciousness, but in the strictly retributive aspect of the same. The Jehovah of the prophets is not so much a good Being in the sense of 'well-inclined', as a good Being in the sense of his insisting upon obedience. He has little of the genial warmth of love about Him. The emphasis weighs heavier upon the inevitable consequences of disobedience, than upon the joy of obedience. The whole view of God's moral nature has a certain unamiable one-sidedness about it. The ethics exclude the love and grace of God. This is the reason for the divisive criticism practised by certain writers of this school upon the text of the prophetic books. On the principle that a promissory, gracious attitude of Jehovah towards the people would have been utterly irreconcilable with the ethical premises of the prophets, these writers proceed to eliminate from the prophetic discourse everything that, in their opinion, would belie the manner in which the ethical convictions had been acquired. Large sections of a promissory, eschatological nature are exscinded.
In still one further respect the ethical absolutism of the new-school prophets powerfully affected the reconstruction of religion. Ethicism tends of itself to spiritualizing, and spiritualizing, carried to an extreme, resulted in the rejection of all religious usages among Israel that were not spiritual, at least not on the surface. All ritual observances, the sacrificial cult, the feasts, all images made of the Deity, were represented by the prophets, not merely as ineffective,
but as reprehensible and exciting the wrath of Jehovah. Notice carefully: it is not the spiritual knowledge of Jehovah that has produced the correct ethical ideal as to his demands; the reverse process took place: because Jehovah was ethical, therefore He must be spiritual.
There is at this point also some dispute as to the more or less absolute nature of the prophetic opposition to the cult. Some hold that it was rejected in toto as intolerable to Jehovah. Wellhausen admits that the prophets reject the sacrificial cult of the people, because it was so grossly corrupt. Smend declares: 'The prophets reject the sacrificial cult of a people with whom Jehovah is on the point of suspending all fellowship.' But others think more radically on this point.
Finally, although this is supposed to have been a more gradual development, the ethically monotheistic conception of God gave birth in course of time to whatever there appears of individualism and universalism in the prophetic religion.
So far the hypothesis represents the movement of prophetism as tending towards a better and ideal goal. The remainder of the story is of a different nature. For prophetism proved unequal to the combat with the unethical popular religion it had ventured upon. The perception gradually dawned upon the prophets, that as pure idealists they could not accomplish anything. A more pragmatic tendency appeared as a result of this. The prophets now addressed themselves chiefly to the cult as the root-seat of all the evils denunciated. An attempt was made to turn the cult, which could not be entirely abolished, to the best possible use by making it a vehicle of ethical and spiritual ideas. For this purpose it had, of course, to be pruned of its most naturalistic excrescences. Unfortunately this pragmatism, aiming at compromise, bore in it the seeds of decay. It meant, regarded from the original prophetic standpoint, an abandonment of the absolute distinction between right and wrong. The several law-codes of the Pentateuch, with their strange mixture
of the moral and the ritual, are the product of this compromise. In this way prophetism obtained its first external hold upon the popular mind, but the strength inherent in its former uncompromising attitude was broken. In accepting a fixed law for regulating the religion of Israel it sacrificed its idealistic freedom. It succeeded to some extent in uprooting the cult from its soil of naturalism, but the cult, however much modified, remained something external. The antithesis between the ritual and the prophetic loses its sharpness, until in the post-exilic prophets it vanishes almost entirely. Thus were laid the first foundations of Judaism.
The foregoing must suffice as an outline of the later history of prophetism from the eighth century onward, as the critics construe it. The criticism of its several positions is so interwoven with our positive presentation of the prophetic teaching, that we cannot help deferring it until then.
FOUR:
THE MODE OF RECEPTION OF THE
PROPHETIC REVELATION
The prophets affirm and imply everywhere a real communication from Jehovah to themselves. They believe themselves recipients of revelation in the solid, unmodernized, unsubjectivized, original sense of the word. We proceed to enquire into the specific forms of statement in which the prophets describe this experience, and the mode in which they conceive it to have come to them from God.
That the prophets had a conviction concerning the objectivity of the process is acknowledged with practical unanimity even by those
whose theological or philosophical standpoint leads them to deny the supernatural source from which the prophets derived it. This being so, it becomes incumbent on all those unable to accept the simple, straightforward explanation submitted by the prophets, who had the experiences themselves, to attempt a different solution of the problem. It is true, the old form of reasoning which simply reduced the whole matter to the alternative: either the prophets were untrustworthy characters, and then their writings are a tissue of lies, or they were honest, reliable men, and in that case we must accept their testimony at its face value with all the supernaturalism involved —this reveals a sort of historical naïveté, somewhat remote from our modern way of thinking. Not all honest, sincere testimony, backed up by a good reputation of the witness can in this way be absolutely identified with the reality of what happened, although in our ordinary relations of life it still remains, and will doubtless remain, the simple and only means of verification. But even in judicial proceedings the matter becomes easily complicated far beyond the reach of such simple tests.
Modern psychology is said to have made many things comprehensible, on which our forefathers looked as profound mysteries. But modern psychology has also revealed depths in the inner life of man, of the existence of which rationalism, with its easygoing way of accounting for things, could not have any suspicion. Modern science in this matter applies in both directions: the rationalistic explanation of prophecy is as thoroughly discredited by it as any superficial and naïve demonstration of the reality and truth of the phenomena, that was current among the orthodox at one time.
There are three elements entering into the problem to be solved.
(a) The first is the psychological fact of the conviction on the part of the prophets.
(b) The second is the continuity of the prophetic movement with its claim to supernaturalism during so many centuries.
(c) The third is the remarkable body of predictions, that has accompanied the movement in its course, the whole teleological trend of it towards a distant consummation, in point of which no movement in the history of religions can be compared with it.
If we keep these three points in mind, it ought not to be difficult to show that prophetism still remains a mystery, unsolved as much as ever, and that it casts no stigma of being unscientific or outdated upon anyone, if he prefers to accept the testimony of the prophets themselves, that the revelations came to them from above.
THE VIEWS OF KUENEN EXAMINED
Kuenen recognizes the fact that the prophets sincerely believed in the direct divine source of the message they proclaim. But he thinks they must have been mistaken in this, because many of their predictions have not been fulfilled, nay, are incapable of fulfilment at the present day, or at any future day. Yet he recognizes with true scientific temper that the uniformity and continuity of conviction on the prophets' part require a psychological explanation of greater dignity than the easy verdict: they were mistaken. But the explanation he offers is a very poor one. It consists in this, that the great sureness expressed is the reflex of the earnestness and unshakableness of their ethico-religious belief. The prophets were aware, literally speaking, that no such communications from God took place, but they desired, by the representation of objectivity employed, to impress the people, that their teaching was true. The explanation is open to serious criticism both as to its reconcilableness with the antique cast of mind, and to its moral excusability. It is too modern a conception to try to convince people of the truth of the thing preached not only by earnestness of preaching, but to do so by way of a pretended direct derivation of the thing from God. The earnestness would stand in inverse ratio to the consciousness of the preacher, that he had to resort to pretence. The prophets would, no doubt, have discovered sooner than modern preachers seem to be able to do, that every such mental reservation broke the force of their enthusiasm, and
moreover cut through the bond of sympathetic self-identification of their hearts with the hearts of their audience. It is easy to see that what such an explanation ascribes to the prophets is something that a high-minded man like the critic in this case would hesitate to admit as his own mental attitude.
Further there is here a failure of understanding the prophets from a purely literary point of view. Their avowals sound so positive, and realistic also, that the conscious intent of utilizing them for the purpose of persuasion seems out of the question. Such positiveness and realism are not the product of rhetorical craftsmanship.
Nor must we forget into how difficult a position the consciousness of using such methods would have brought the prophets in their controversy with the false prophets. Against them the burden of prophetic criticism was that they prophesied 'out of their own hearts'. Can that have meant that the false prophets lacked the earnestness of conviction which their criticizing opponents ascribed to themselves? Is the point not rather this, that they questioned the supernatural provenience of the message proclaimed by the other prophets? And that, while all the time they must have been aware of their own having prophesied out of their hearts, with this difference only, that they believed their heart to be a better one!
Finally on any theistic scheme that believes in a real contact of God with the prophets, however much 'psychologized' it may have been, the stigma of half-true representation would inevitably involve God Himself. How could He have indulged in or connived at such a procedure as would have lain beneath the plane of business ethics supposed to be in force between the principal and his agent?
As to the argument from non-fulfilment or impossibility of fulfilment of certain prophecies, that is a chapter by itself. Reasoning from this is very deceptive and precarious, because the fundamental premises of supernaturalism and naturalism enter into the very determination of what 'fulfilment' of a prophecy means, and as to whether it is
absolutely unfulfillable at any point of time. The adoption of premillenarianism would greatly limit the field of the impossible in this respect, chronologically speaking. Upon the problem of 'fulfilment' we cannot here enter. The question under debate ought to be staked on the self-testimony of the prophets alone.
'KERNEL-REVELATION'
Another serious attempt in the same direction is made by the theory of 'kernel-revelation'. God is believed to have imparted to the prophets the essential kernel of the truth only, and to have left the working-out of this kernel to the subjective prophetic reflection. This would conserve at least a portion of the claim of the prophets that their message came supernaturally from God. The 'kernel' is usually identified with the ethico-religious principles of the preaching. In this case likewise the prophets must have been aware of the distinction in provenience between the two elements of their message. But here again the criticism applies that such a distinction between kernel and envelope lies far from the mode of antique religious thought. The prophets everywhere insist on their word carrying the authority of God, but nowhere indicate that this claim must be understood with the qualification named. The prophets must have been conscious of the contribution made out of their own minds to the resulting product, and yet they speak of this product in its entirety as invested with absolute divine authority. Finally, this hypothesis requires the intervening of a considerable period between the communication of the truth-kernel to the prophet and the state of ripeness of it, through reflection, for transmission to the people. As a matter of fact we find frequently that, no sooner is the message received, than it is made known to the hearers. Such instantaneousness the theory renders impossible.
THE 'DIVINATION' THEORY
In the third place we consider the 'divination' theory. This places the prophetic knowledge on a line with extra-biblical instances of a
mysterious knowledge, so that the former would lose its unique character. It is a theory particularly devised for explaining the predictive element in the prophetic writings. It ranks higher, from a religious point of view, than the two preceding views, in that it places the phenomena at least in a mysterious light, and disdains to make use of rationalistic devices to account for them. The contact between Jehovah and the prophet is, indeed, a highly mysterious thing. Some of the mystery escapes us because we are led to speak of it in anthropomorphic language. Smend and others would stake the whole issue of prophetic prediction on this one analogy.
It is true, there are some well-authenticated instances in history of foresight or insight into matters far out of the range of ordinary human knowledge. In Deut. 13:1, 2, Scripture itself speaks of 'prophets' and 'dreamers of dreams', giving a sign and wonder that comes to pass, who yet seduce the people through the prestige thus obtained to idolatry. Yet a certain degree of divine influence in their activity cannot be denied, for we are told that through this experience God proves the people. It is added, however, that such a quasi-prophet must be put to death. But to explain the phenomena of Old Testament prophecy as a whole on the basis of such a faculty of insight or foresight is not to be thought of. There are certain features differentiating all that has been discovered of this nature from the facts of prophetism. The naturalness, clearness and immediacy of the latter are here looked for in vain. Magical preparations and manipulations regularly accompany these alleged analogous processes. Much that seemed at first unaccountable has been explained on the basis of 'suggestion' or 'autosuggestion'. This field, however, while to some extent explored, remains still full of mystery. It is foolish to build upon it a comprehensive explanation of the phenomena of Biblical prophetism. Perhaps it may throw light on the development of false prophecy among Israel. False prophecy is probably not entirely made up of fraud. Self-delusion may have had something to do with it. On the other hand, there is among the true prophets a clear and not seldom expressed consciousness that the God of Israel alone can make true predictions of the future and lay
bare the secret things to which the created mind has no access. Were prophecy to be explained as 'divination', then we should have to say that in this respect it has thoroughly misunderstood itself.
REVELATION THROUGH SPEECH AND HEARING
We now proceed to register the statements of the prophets themselves as to the manner in which the truth came from God to them. We must distinguish here between what falls in the sphere of speaking followed by hearing, on the one hand, and what falls in the sphere of showing followed by seeing, on the other. References to the speech of Jehovah are frequent in the records of the prophets. Sometimes Jehovah's speaking is a comprehensive formula for the whole process of bringing the message into the mind of him for whom it is intended, including every step leading up to this. He is said to speak to the people, although in reality He at first spoke only to the prophet, commissioning the latter to repeat His words in the ears of the people. For the present we are concerned only with what passed from God to the prophet. [Cp. for the distinction Hag. 1:1; Mal. 1:1; with Hos. 12:10.]
The most frequent formulas used of the divine prophetward address are amar Jahveh, dibber Jahveh, ne'um Jahveh. The first and second of these are in the perfect tense and mean 'Jahveh has said', 'Jahveh has spoken'. The third is a passive participle signifying 'that which has been oracled'. The perfect tense is important, because originally, and probably always, related to revelations imparted before the prophet spoke. That this speaking of God was meant by the prophets, not in any mere figurative, but in the literal sense appears in various ways. They distinguished between Jehovah as the speaking God and the idols as dumb gods. This antithesis entirely loses its point, if the divine speech was not to, but only through the prophets. The contrast drawn is a piece of popular apologetic. For as regards speech through the prophets, the heathen laid claim to receiving this as much as Israel, and there was no way of proving the difference with regard to indirect provenience. The difference lay precisely in this
point, that in paganism there was no objective speech coming from the gods to the prophets, because the whole structure of pagan religion and revelation lacks reality [Isa. 41:22–26; 43:9; Jer. 10:5; Hab. 2:18].
Further the divine speech is represented by the prophets as the expression of the thinking and planning of Jehovah. Just as in man thought and speech belong organically together, so in God [Isa. 19:17; 23:9; Jer. 51:29; Amos 3:7]. Still more realistically, we find a mouth ascribed to Jehovah, which, while not implying a corporeal nature, yet admits of no other interpretation than that He exercises the faculty of speech in the literal sense [Isa. 58:14]. The prophets describe this speaking of Jehovah as coming with various degrees of emphasis. Such a variety could be predicated of a real act only [Isa. 5:9; 8:11; 14:24; Jer. 25:30; Amos 3:7, 8].
Once more, the prophets not merely say in an indefinite way that God has spoken, but add the indirect object: Jehovah spake unto me [Isa. 8:1; 18:4]. The speaking of Jehovah is assigned to a definite point both in space and time [Isa. 5:9; 16:13, 14; 22:14; Jer. 1:13; Ezek. 3:12]. According to 1 Sam. 3:8, 9, the voice was so external that Samuel mistook it once and again for Eli's voice. Isaiah distinguishes explicitly between his hearing from Jehovah and his declaration to others of the thing heard [21:10].
It has been objected to this mode of argument, that neither Deuteronomy nor Jeremiah places the criterion for distinguishing between a false prophet and true prophet in the reception of divine communications, but, on the one hand, in the agreement of the oracles with the principles of the true religion, on the other hand in the fulfilment afterwards. This, however, relates not to the prophets themselves, but only to those to whom they were sent. Of course, the people could not tell what had or what had not taken place in the private chamber of the prophet's intercourse with God.
There is ample ground, then, to assume that in a number of cases the speech of Jehovah was not only objective but external. The externality implies the objectivity, but this cannot be turned around, so as to make the objectivity in every case involve externality. Koenig takes the ground that all speech of God to the prophets must have been external, because thus only could an infallible assurance be produced of the divine source of the revelation. But this a priori ground is not sufficient to prove his thesis. Externality of revelation would not exclude every possibility of self-deception. Hallucinations of hearing are not uncommon things in excited states of mind. If the testimony of the prophets claimed an external speech as underlying every communicated message, we should have to accept this, no matter whether it was to our taste or not. But this the prophets do not claim. The resulting problem arises, how objective speech can be conceived without externality.
At the outset the confusion of thought should be guarded against, as though the inward speech of Jehovah to the prophet were identical with the product of reflection or emotion in the prophet's mind, so that it welled up from his own consciousness. This would not so much internalize as subjectivize the whole process, and as a rule it is stressed by those whose faith is not quite equal to belief in a solid revelation from God. They feel that, if somehow it could flow up as a part of the natural mental processes, the thing would appear more normal and credible. But this is not meant by 'internal speech'. The phrase is here taken to designate an inner occurrence in which, apart from the bodily ear, the prophet perceives a divine voice addressing him, and that with such objectivity as to enable him clearly to distinguish its content from the content of his own thinking.
The possibility of such a thing rests partly on the theological, partly on physiologico-psychological grounds. Theologically speaking, it is not impossible for God to convey to the soul directly sounds of words expressing a certain thought. God has control of the soul in its whole internal organization. And we must endeavour to realize that the conveying of sound to the soul ab extra through the ordinary process
of air-vibration and nerve-conduction and brain-impression and soul-reaction is in itself a most wonderful, to us unintelligible, thing, so long as we believe in the difference between matter and soul. Hearing is a psychical, not a physical act. It has ordinarily certain physical prerequisites, but is not identical with these. What then should hinder God from producing the psychical experience of hearing in other ways than the ordinary one? The case is precisely the same in the sphere of sight-production and seeing as a psychical act. The prerequisites of seeing are physical, the seeing is psychical. It is a difficult question to answer, how the prophet could have distinguished between internal voices and speech externally conveyed. But it certainly would be presumptuous, with our limited knowledge of the borderland between matter and mind, to declare it impossible.
The grounds on which it has been assumed that not infrequently such an inner speech came from God to the prophet's soul are as follows. The root from which comes the well-known phrase ne'um Jahveh is cognate with roots that signify 'to rumble', 'to grumble'. It might, therefore, well be expressive of a dull, low sound, and in so far appropriate of low, whispered tones heard from within. True, we must not appeal to 1 Kings 19:12, because here 'the sound of a gentle stillness' is symbolical, the actual revelation coming afterwards. Job 4:12–16 might rather be compared: 'Now a thing was secretly brought to me, and mine ear received a whisper thereof … fear came upon me and trembling … a form was before mine eyes: silence, and I heard a voice.' The analogy of revelation through vision suggests a double mode of revelation by sound. The vision was not always seen with the bodily eye; most likely the speech was not always received through the bodily ear. The force of this analogy is further strengthened by the circumstances that in both cases, of seeing and hearing, a preparatory operation on ear and eye was required. Jehovah 'opens the eye', but He likewise 'wakes the ear' [Isa. 50:4].
The Spirit of God is sometimes specified as the organ for communicating the word of God. This favours the view, that in such
cases at least the revelation was an inward one. The Spirit works usually ab intra. Koenig has denied that the Spirit anywhere appears as a source of revelation. He would restrict the Spirit's work in connection with revelation to the preparatory sphere, and excludes from it the impartation of truth itself. But there are some passages which speak of the Spirit as Revealer [2 Sam. 23:2; 1 Kings 22:24; Isa. 61:1; Joel 2:28 (English Bible); Zech. 7:12; Neh. 9:30; 1 Pet. 1:11]. Of course, there was such a thing as an antecedent operation of the Spirit for the endowment of the prophet with necessary gifts, such as courage, force of utterance and similar qualifications [Mic. 3:8].
In what proportion verbal revelation took place by external or internal speech cannot be determined. It has been suggested that, as verbal revelation gradually supplanted visions, so the increasing use of the internal word may have marked an advance in the development of prophetism. It might be said that in the inner word God comes nearer to man than in any other mode of self-disclosure. But positive evidence to that effect we do not possess. Which were the motives for the preference on each several occasion of the one to the other is hard to determine. Where the communication occurred in privacy, both forms may have appeared equally appropriate. The choice may have depended on the momentary psychical or religious condition of the prophet. There are moods in the spiritual life, even of the ordinary child of God, where the desire for an external approach of God is felt strongly. This desire is at bottom the desire for something substantial, suited to meet the weakness of faith. Every external approach of God to His people is more or less of the nature of a sacrament. On the other hand, the religious state of the prophet may have been at times so spiritualized, that the desire for touch with God took the inward direction, and the voice perceived within produced a feeling of unique satisfaction.
Where the contact occurred in public, in the presence of other witnesses, and of the people for whom the communication was intended, the natural mode of address would be the inward one. Here the prophet had to repeat the words. Suppose they had been
given to him by an external voice, then this voice would have reached the ear of the others no less than his own, and the transmission of the message to these others would have become an unnecessary duplication. The function of the prophet would have been in that case superfluous.
Further the internal speech may have secured, through its immediate precedence of the delivery of the message, the exact correspondence of word received and word transmitted. The prophet could simply utter straightway what the internal voice supplied. There was scarcely an interval of remembrance; the whole thing became, as it were, one living process; the prophet became in a veritable sense the mouth of God, while lending his ear to God within. Perhaps in the writing of prophecy also the inward voice played a part. The main point to affirm is that the prophet indiscriminately calls whatever he utters in the discharge of his function 'the word of Jehovah', and means this in a strict, literal sense. The product is to him the essential thing, not the variable process. But the prophet never makes the freedom observed in the process an excuse for impugning the absoluteness of the product.
REVELATION THROUGH SHOWING AND SEEING
Side by side with the revelation through speech and hearing goes the other form, that through showing and seeing. Visions are recorded of the canonical prophets in the following instances: Isa. 6; Jer. 1:11–12; 24:1; Ezek. 1–3; 8–11; 37:1–10, 20–28; Dan. 2:19; 7; 8; 10; 11; 12; Amos 7:1–9; 8:1–3; 9:1; Zech. 1:8; 6:1–8. No visions occur in Hosea, Joel, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Malachi. Taking the extended visions of Ezekiel and Daniel as units we obtain a comparatively small number. This, however, leaves out of account the cases where 'visions' are spoken of in the prophets, and uncertainty exists as to whether the word means visions proper, or is a general term for revelation. But, even counting these in, there are not enough to bear out Hengstenberg's view that the visionary form was the constant form of prophetic revelation,
and that whatever speech there is must be considered as intravisionary speech. In some cases the visionary mode of receiving a message would seem to have belonged to the introductory act of the prophet's career.
There is evidence that in ancient times visions were of common occurrence. Balaam's revelations were received in a visionary state. In the time of Moses, according to Num. 12:6, the ordinary converse of Jehovah with prophets was in a vision, and the parallelism with dreams, in which the term here occurs, shows that visions in the technical sense are referred to. For the period immediately preceding Samuel, 'word of Jehovah' and 'frequent (or open) vision' were synonyms. These facts have been construed as indicating a steady progress in revelation from the more external and sensual media to the more internal and spiritual vehicles, because sound and hearing come closer in their nature to the spiritual world than perceptible objects and sight. This is open to the objection, however, that with both Ezekiel and Zechariah the visionary mode preponderates, and that in Jeremiah visions are somewhat more frequent than in Isaiah. The personal equation probably had something to do with this phenomenon. Some of the prophets may have been of a more imaginative type of mind than others. Jeremiah relates of himself that he lived constantly amidst the scenes of the coming destruction, and that they were so vivid to him as to become exceedingly painful. He could no longer participate in any social pleasure, was 'full of the fury of Jehovah', weary with holding in [6:11].
It has already been observed that in course of time 'vision' lost its technical meaning, and became simply synonymous with 'revelation', in whatever form received. The title standing at the head of the Book of Isaiah: 'The vision of Isaiah, the son of Amoz' certainly does not mean to cover the whole book as the product of visionary experiences. The content of much of the book excludes this. It simply means 'the revelation of Isaiah'; the verb in the clause 'which he saw' has the same generalized sense: it means 'which he received'.
We can distinguish in visions proper between the nature of some objects perceived and that of others. Realities of the supersensual world may have been momentarily brought within the range of sight of the prophet. This may have been the case in 2 Kings 6:17, where Jehovah at the prayer of Elisha opens the eyes of his servant, so as to make him see the supernatural host encompassing the city of Dothan. A purely symbolical picture, had he been told that it was such, would hardly have satisfied the boy. But surely in other cases there was no need of bringing forth the supersensual realities and laying them open to the beholder. We gain the impression from the account just referred to that the prophet himself either did not need to have his eyes opened, because he had this faculty of 'second sight' constantly, or that for this particular occasion his eyes had been opened some time before. The opening of the eyes would suit equally well the beholding of supernatural realities as the apprehension of supernaturally produced pictures. There can be no doubt that in many cases the wonder was an internal one. It was then placed before the inner vision of the prophet, an inner field of vision, as it were, consisting of pictures.
But even here a distinction is possible: the things thrown upon this screen might have been psychical reproductions, portraits of the realities submitted, or they may have been symbolic figures shadowing forth the realities but not copying them. This yields various possibilities. Similar distinctions may be drawn as to the organ of perception employed in a vision. This may have been the external bodily eye. If there was external reality ab extra, though of a supernatural kind, it would seem that the organ of external vision would have been the proper instrument for perceiving it. It might have been supernaturally qualified for the act, but it would be none the less the bodily eye. If, on the other hand, the things to be shown were spread out on the inner field of vision, then the inner eye, the soul-eye, would be the organ of vision indicated. The outer eye for the outer things, the inner eye for the inner things, would seem to be a natural rule to follow. Still there is something of logical constructiveness about this, so that we may well hesitate to lay it