SOURCE: "The Formation of the Pentateuch" in Old Testament Interpretation: Past, Present, and Future: Essays in Honor of Gene M. Tucker, edited by James Luther Mays, David L. Petersen, and Kent Harold Richards, Abingdon Press, 1995, pp. 31-45.

[In this essay, Petersen examines the compositional history of the Pentateuch and its effect on interpreting the literary and historical unity of the text.]

The title of this essay betrays one way of thinking about the Pentateuch, namely, a concern with its history, how it came to exist. To be sure, not all scholars today are interested in this issue. Some would prefer to talk about the literary configuration of the Pentateuch, its theme, canonical shape, or theological purport. In fact, the move away from questions about compositional history mark one major development in Pentateuchal studies during the twentieth century. Nonetheless, concern about Pentateuchal origins continues to generate important contributions to the field and regularly appears as a prime topic of interest for firsttime students of the Hebrew Bible. Moreover, theories about the formation of the Pentateuch serve as watermarks for the critical study of biblical literature.

In this essay, I will first address several introductory issues, followed by comments about theories concerning the formation of the Pentateuch. Then, after brief remarks concerning the literary and canonical approaches, I will take a specific case, the flood account, and examine it from the perspective of the current discussion as well as point to one potential mode for future research.

Introductory Issues

The first portion of this essay addresses four important introductory issues: (1) diversity in source-critical theories about the formation of the Pentateuch; (2) the impact of diverse methods on understanding the formation of the Pentateuch; (3) the problem of Deuteronomy as a part of the Pentateuch; and (4) ambiguity in the meaning of "literary."

First, when one reads general introductions to Hebrew Bible studies, one receives the impression that there is one general hypothesis, namely the source-critical theory, that scholars have used to explain the origins of the Pentateuch (or the Tetrateuch—Genesis through Numbers, or the Hexateuch—Genesis through Joshua). Such a judgment, however, does us a disservice to the extent that it masks the complexity of earlier discussions about these origins.

By the end of the nineteenth century, scholars in Europe had advanced three basic models for the formation of the Pentateuch. The source-critical model was only one of these, though its general contours are now the most widely known. Franz Delitzsch acted as a powerful spokesman for the notion that the Pentateuch is made up essentially of three narrative sources (P=Priestly; E=Elohistic; J=Yahwistic) and one embellished legal collection (D=Deuteronomy). A redactor or editor, spliced these documents together, resulting in the composition Genesis through Deuteronomy. Though Julius Wellhausen's name is routinely associated with this notion, Wellhausen was not responsible for identifying the four constituent documents. He inherited the idea of multiple sources from a long line of studies devoted to the Pentateuch. Wellhausen rang a change on the earlier theories by arguing that the relative age of the sources was different than had been supposed, namely, that P, instead of being the earliest, was the latest one, hence the well-known sequence, JEDP (one earlier theory had it PEJD). The source-critical answer to the question about how the Pentateuch was formed achieved such prominence and consensus that the Pentateuch could be divided, verse by verse, into these four sources (see, conveniently, the Appendix to Noth's A History of Pentateuchal Traditions and more recently, Campbell and O'Brien's Sources of the Pentateuch).

This source-critical hypothesis not only allowed the Pentateuch to be divided into three narrative strands (D is not really a narrative); it also involved theories about their respective relationships. Most scholars of this persuasion thought that there were at least three independent versions of Israel's early history. One version had it that J represented a version rooted in the Southern Kingdom, E a version native to northern soil, and P a document that, while not geographically distinctive, focused on a particular topic, the ritual implications of God's relation to Israel. All three arose somewhat independently, at least in their written versions, and were synthesized either by P or by a later redactor in the postexilic era.

However, two other models competed with the aforementioned source-critical or documentary one. The so-called fragmentary theory admitted that the Pentateuch was indeed made up of resources. But rather than extended narratives, Alexander Geddes, among others (e.g., Vater and De Wette), maintained that the ingredients were smaller, e.g., a few laws or a set of stories about one person. Documents or sources may have eventuated, but in the formative period much smaller literary units existed than those Delitzsch thought extended across several biblical books. By contrast, Geddes thought there were two primary series, characterized by the presence of the two different divine names, but these were redactional collections, not unified sources. They held nothing of the thematic or literary consistency claimed for a J or P by source critics.

A third model—the supplementary approach—attempted to combine the most compelling features of the two aforementioned ones, i.e., the notions of both source and fragment. Since there is a story line in the Pentateuch, some have thought that it should be attributed to a basic source, rather than to the final editor, which is the case with the fragment hypothesis. To this basic source, additions of various sorts—stories, genealogies, legal materials—have been added over time. Ewald, for example, argued early in his career that E was the basic source and had been supplemented by J material. Others, like Bleek, maintained that J was primary and had been supplemented by E. Unlike the source-critical hypothesis, however, the supplementary theory does not necessarily ascribe coherence to the various so-called E entries into the J document. If the criteria for identifying a source include coherence and significant scope, the supplementary theory allows for only one source, everything else is smaller-scale addition.

In sum, by the end of the nineteenth century, there were a number of models, each of which included the assumption that the Pentateuch resulted from a complicated history of literary developments. And though the models are conceptually distinct, each allowed the claim that the Pentateuch resulted from the integration of diverse texts and/or traditions. As we will see, all three models have their advocates in the late twentieth century.

Second, the pursuit of other methods, i.e., form criticism and tradition history, has created a challenge to the most common model, the source-critical hypothesis. Major turns may be associated with the names of Gunkel, Noth, and Rendtorff. One hallmark of the source-critical hypothesis was the notion of a long story narrated in several distinct literary traditions. Not only was there a narrative involving the family of Terah in Genesis, this story continued with the group known as Israel, in Egypt with Moses, and in the wilderness, with the people poised to return to the Promised Land. Moreover, the story had its beginnings in the so-called primeval period, in which the generational sequence involved all humans. The tale was virtually epic in scale. It moved from considering all people, to a family and its geographic movements and exile to the beginnings of a people, who migrated with difficulty from Egypt and stood, looking at the Promised Land from the plains of Moab.

Gunkel's investigations of Genesis narrowed the focus from that large narrative down to the individual stories, each of which appeared to have its own literary integrity. The stories within the story received pride of place. These sagas (also termed "legends") themselves possessed the hallmarks of narrative, e.g., Gen 32:22-32, and, hence, could be studied as such. And since some of these stories could apparently occur in one or another context, e.g., Gen 12:10-20-20:1-18, the larger story line no longer seemed so important. The more scholars devoted attention to these smaller scenes, the less they attended to the longer sources. Still, most scenes were regularly deemed to have the characteristics of J (e.g., Gen 18:1-16), E (e.g., Gen 20:1-18) or P (e.g., Gen 17:1-14). Hence, even though form-critical work had focused on individual sagas, there was, initially, no perceived tension between that perspective and earlier source-critical work. Form criticism was typically understood to focus on the oral stage of Israel's literature whereas source criticism was treating a later, written form. Gunkel continued to use source-critical language, but for him the sources were more accretions of sagas rather than a carefully worked out narrative structure.

One should observe that the very model for understanding early Israelite literature had shifted. Whereas Wellhausen et al., had spoken about literary documents and written sources, Gunkel attended to the preliterary, predocumentary stages of Israelite literature. Though Wellhausen agreed that oral material lay behind the great sources, he maintained "this, however, is not the place to attempt a history of the development of Israelite legend" (296). Gunkel provided that place.

Martin Noth attempted to explain the process by means of which the small sagas emerged in larger literary compositions. Building on Gunkel's own judgments, Noth argued that the shorter narratives ("traditions") were combined around certain individuals and at discrete locations, e.g., Jacob at Shechem as opposed to Jacob in the Trans-Jordan. At a later stage, these localized traditions, which could include several narratives, coalesced around several "themes," e.g., "promise to the patriarchs," that make up the Pentateuch (Noth identified five such themes).

As had Gunkel before him, Noth, too, attempted to accommodate a source-critical approach to his so-called traditio-historical method. He continued to speak of J, E, and P. Noth understood P, the latest significant literary activity to be an editorial context into which the earlier J/E material was placed. However, behind J/E, Noth postulated a basic source ("G"—Grundlage) that presented the earliest form of the Israelite story extending across the Pentateuch. Noth offered this analysis at the outset of his A History of Pentateuchal Traditions and returned to it at the end, but the relation between the rest of the volume and this homage to earlier source-critical work was never entirely clear.

More impressive than the literary coherence of Israel's narrative was Noth's identification of a number of diverse collections of traditions within the Pentateuch.¹ The narratives in Genesis 12-37 seemed fundamentally different from those involving the wilderness, which in turn are different from those involving Sinai. In addition, Noth maintained that the narratives about each patriarch were originally unrelated, in large part because the individuals were geographically isolated. Some redactor had created their genealogical relationships as a late artifice. And the more one focused on those "themes" or even smaller collections (e.g., Jacob at Shechem), the more one is pulled away from studying the story line of an entire Pentateuchal source. Von Rad and Noth had intended to speak about the midrange stage in the evolution of Israelite literature. If the short sagas came first, and if the Pentateuch came last, then medium length collections, themselves of various levels of complexity (e.g., Jacob is made up of Jacob/Laban and Jacob/Esau), were a logical step. But how do the classical sources fit with form critically or traditio-historically defined literary units? For von Rad, the answer was more clear than it was for Noth.

To be sure, each of the methods treats a different entity and on a different scale, form criticism—the individual saga, tradition history—a collection such as that about Abraham and Sarah, and source criticism—the literary unit that extends throughout four books. And yet, if the genesis of the literature occurs in a manner like that proposed by Noth, the sources are really no longer sources. They are the results of a long process of literary formation, and far less the result of conscious redaction like the one von Rad proposed for J. In sum, one could say that both form criticism and tradition history challenge implicitly the claims of source criticism. With Noth one focuses on discrete "themes" or collections, not on consistent literary narratives that extend across the first four books of the Hebrew Bible.

What was implicit in Noth's work, R. Rendtorff made explicit. Rendtorff reviewed the aforementioned studies and sensed that Noth had posed a fundamental challenge to the classical source-critical hypothesis. If the literature began with the short sagas, which were later collected in smaller entities, and if these entities developed into even larger units (Noth's "themes"), Rendtorff wanted to know whether the sorts of continuities argued in the source-critical hypothesis were common to these larger units. Hence, he analyzed one of the mid-size complexes, the patriarchal stories, and, as well, assessed the nature of the connections between such complexes.² On the basis of that research, Rendtorff maintained that these "larger units" are remarkably independent and betray different histories of development as well as diverse theological perspectives. Only with the priestly tradition or redactor may one identify an integration of several (but not all of the) literary components that make up the Pentateuch. Rather than a narrative, "P" comprises a set of chronological notices (e.g., Gen 16:16; 17:24) and "theological passages" (e.g., Gen 17; 35:9-13). Rendtorff maintained, however, that P did not provide the overarching redaction that, in effect, created the Pentateuch. Rather, he discerned a number of texts that highlight the promise of land (e.g., Gen 22:16; 26:3; 50:24; Exod 13; 33:1-3a; Num 11:11-15), texts that Rendtorff attributes to some form of D. This D material occurs in every major unit in the Pentateuch except the primeval history. Still, Rendtorff and others have called the very notion of a Pentateuchal source fundamentally into question. The challenge is rooted in the methods at work, here form criticism followed by tradition history.

Third, the mention of D raises questions both about that source and the book of Deuteronomy itself. The book of Deuteronomy concludes the Pentateuch. And yet, its place in the Pentateuch as well as in discussions about the formation of the Pentateuch remain problematic. Since Deuteronomy ends with Israel outside the land, some scholars maintain that the first literary entity of the Hebrew is not the Pentateuch, but is rather the Hexateuch, namely, a body of literature ending with Joshua in which Israel enters the land. Only in this way are the promises made to the mothers and fathers of Israel about entering and possessing land brought to fruition. However, others have observed that Israel stands in roughly the same location at both the end of Numbers and Deuteronomy, viz., in the plains of Moab. When one takes seriously the Pentateuch in its final form, Israel is positioned outside the land (one might say in exile). Moreover, such an emphasis on life outside the Promised Land allows one to speak of a Tetrateuch that would have the same position on the fulfillment of promises concerning land as does the Pentateuch. The notion of a Tetrateuch with its own literary and theological integrity complements Noth's conception of a deuteronomistic history, of which Deuteronomy is the prologue. Hence, with the model either of the Hexateuch or the Tetrateuch, it is possible to maintain that Deuteronomy has a remarkably ambiguous role as the final literary component of the Pentateuch. According to such a reading, the Pentateuch may be understood as a late literary and theological construct, with Deuteronomy more integral to the deuteronomistic history than it is to the Pentateuch itself.

And there is a related question: To what extent is D, whether nuanced as deuteronomic or deuteronomistic (see the essay by D. Knight on this distinction), material present in Genesis-Numbers? If D is not present in the Tetrateuch, then the book of Deuteronomy looks even more unrelated to the initial portion of the Hebrew Bible. But if, on the other hand, D appears in Genesis through Numbers, then the Pentateuch would appear to have greater coherence.

Not surprisingly, scholars differ in their judgments about the measure of D in the Tetrateuch. It would probably be best to conduct such a discussion on a book by book, or major section by major section inventory. For example, there have been stronger arguments made on behalf of D in Exodus (e.g., Exod 13:3-16) than there have on behalf of D in Genesis. Noth apparently discerned nothing in Genesis that might reasonably be attributed to D. Others, e.g., Rendtorff, have identified D in all four Tetrateuchal books. Moreover, Rendtorff has identified critical instances in which linkages between the Tetrateuch and the deuteronomistic history occur when D material occurs in the Tetrateuch, e.g., Exod 1:6, 8 and Judg 2:8, 10. Blum has argued on behalf of an even more important D presence. For him, the first literary unit that crosses the boundaries of biblical books is a product of D (Blum's so-designated KD, D-Komposition), which reaches from the patriarchal literature to the narratives locating Israel in the desert (even for Blum, there is some evidence for an earlier and longer narrative, something akin to Noth's Grundlage). Since Blum and, more recently, Blenkinsopp have argued on behalf of D (or D-related) material throughout the Tetrateuch (e.g., Exodus 19-24), one might claim that there is a trend toward identifying greater and greater deuteronomistic redactional activity in the Tetrateuch, though the evidence for such D material in Genesis is less than assured (Blenkinsopp argues that Genesis 15 includes Dlike material).³

To conclude this discussion about the place of D in the Pentateuch, one should raise a more formal question, which is relevant to literature beyond that normally ascribed to D: How are we to explain the place of legal material in the Pentateuch or Tetrateuch? Apart from the laws in Deuteronomy itself, there are legal collections in Exodus, Numbers, and Leviticus, the book of the Covenant (Exod 20:22-23:33), law of the Nazirite (Num 6:1-21), and Holiness Code (Leviticus 17-26), respectively. There has been a strong tendency to view these materials both to be the result of supplements and to be, themselves, supplemental additions to the more original narratives. And yet, if the speeches of Moses provide an intense soliloquy near the end of the Pentateuch, their purport must not be underestimated. Alternatively, some have appealed to the principle of literary symmetry and maintained that the prescriptions of Leviticus occupy the pivotal position in the Pentateuch. The key issue requiring further analysis, however, is the role that the laws play—whether in Exodus, Leviticus, or Deuteronomy—in their narrative setting.

Fourth, the previous pages presume a refined set of critical vocabulary, e.g., D and Dtr. Yet one term remains almost systematically ambiguous. During the twentieth century, the adjective "literary," when used in pentateuchal studies, has born a variety of meanings, a situation that bedevils those reading studies of the Pentateuch written in various decades. Earlier, scholars used the term literary criticism as simply another way of describing source criticism. This happened primarily because German scholars had used the term Literarkritik to label the source-critical endeavor (Quellenforschung and Urkundenhypothese were also part of the German vocabulary). And, after all, the primary criteria for identifying the hypothetical sources were literary, variations in vocabulary, literary style, et al.

As is well known now, however, a sea of change in biblical scholarship occurred during the final third of the twentieth century. Scholars began exploring biblical texts using the analytical tools of literary studies, i.e., by attending to issues like imagery, theme, characterization, plot development, and the like. This exercise, too, was deemed literary criticism. But it was often fundamentally uninterested in questions of literary formation. Hence, the phrase literary criticism, when applied to the Pentateuch, may mean quite different things, an ambiguity that regularly perplexes newcomers to biblical studies.

Theories About the Formation of the Pentateuch

Many writers commenting recently on Pentateuchal studies have described the field as in crisis, in part because there have been such diverse proposals concerning the formation of that literature. To be sure, disagreements do run rife. But I would maintain that the current discussion about the Pentateuch's origins corresponds in considerable measure to earlier differing hypotheses. Whereas earlier vigorous disagreements often cut on religious lines (i.e., so-called liberal versus conservative positions), the dividing lines are now less religious and more methodological. One might, therefore, claim that there is no more of a crisis in pentateuchal studies than there ever has been.

One may review a number of recent, influential works in Pentateuchal studies and maintain that the three major alternatives within the critical paradigm are still before us. First, though sometimes deemed dated, most scholars adjudge that some form of the source-critical hypothesis still serves well to explain certain features of the Pentateuch, i.e., that there are at least two originally independent literary traditions of significant scale that have been combined in the Tetrateuch. In much of the current discussion, the debate has centered around whether P is truly a source or is simply a supplement. The former option has been advocated vigorously by, among others, Steck and Westermann.⁴ So, even though the presence of E is ambiguous, the Pentateuch results from at least JDP.

The supplementary hypothesis probably has more adherents than might appear to be the case. Although such classifications are risky, it would appear that both Blenkinsopp's and Van Seters's work belongs in this vein. Van Seters has argued that the J source runs throughout the Pentateuch. Unlike the standard source-critical hypothesis, Van Seters deems the Yahwist to be a late, i.e., exilic, composition using earlier sources, and designed to function as a prologue to the deuteronomistic history. Since Van Seters denies the existence of E, his model is something like DJP (though D stands outside the Tetrateuch). Van Seters analysis results from a combination of explicit concern for form, "history writing," and more implicit (and traditional) source criticism. Blenkinsopp, too, uses fairly traditional source-critical perspectives, but, in his case, in dialogue with literary (new literary) observations. And, Blenkinsopp claims that P is primary, with J as a supplement.

Though presented in more programmatic than definitive fashion, Cross has articulated this position with considerable force. Cross maintains the primacy of a so-called poetic epic tradition, which evolved in two different prose forms; J in the south and E in Israel. In the Tetrateuch, at least, there is no evidence of D. And P, rather than an independent prose tradition, was a supplement or redaction to the J/N narrative. P structured the earlier material by introducing a system of convenants, formulaic references to generations. … e.g., Gen 5:1; 6:9, and station formulae (Exod 16:1). However, Cross identifies few if any P narratives (the cave of Macpelah episode, Genesis 23, is the primary exception). In sum, Cross, too, advances a perspective that may be viewed as consistent with the supplementary approach.

Rendtorff s analysis is, in my judgment, consistent with those whose work has been identified with the fragment approach. As had scholars in the nineteenth century, Rendtorff denied that any sources extended throughout Genesis, much less the Tetrateuch. Rather, as sketched above, Rendtorff argued on behalf of originally distinct collections of tradition that were placed into a story line only at a fairly late stage.

Literary and Canonical Approaches to the Pentateuch

Discussions about the form, if not formation, of the Pentateuch are, however, proceeding along other tracks as well, in part because some scholars have adopted a postcritical paradigm. And to this extent, contemporary scholarly discussions of the Pentateuch are indeed more complicated than they were at the end of the nineteenth century. As noted earlier, some scholars are interested in understanding the literary structures, themes, et al., and often uninterested in questions about the formation of the text. A similar ploy, though sometimes a more theologically motivated one, involves an interest in exploring the canonical shape of books or larger entities, such as the Pentateuch. Though quite different in their conceptual positions, those pursuing either a literary or a canonical approach may, in principle, be uninterested in pursuing questions about the origins of a text.

Both literary and canonical methods have achieved important results. As for the former, David Clines has argued that it is possible to speak about a primary theme at work throughout the Pentateuch. He provides the following definition:

The theme of the Pentateuch is the partial fulfillment—which implies also the partial nonfulfillment—of the promise to or blessing of the patriarchs. The promise or blessing is both the divine initiative in a world where human initiatives always lead to disaster, and a re-affirmation of the primal divine intentions of man. The promise has three elements: posterity, divine-human relationship, and land.⁵

Such a judgment depends upon a carefully wrought definition of theme, which derives from the world of literary criticism. Moreover, such a judgment reflects in no consequential way considerations about the historical background of the literature in question or questions about the development of that literature. Instead, the reader treats the Pentateuch in its final form, without attending to genetic questions.

The latter mode, what has been termed by some as canonical criticism, also focuses on a given, the first five books of the Hebrew Bible. However, it is a given not simply as literature but because religious communities deemed it to be a Pentateuch, a controlling portion of the canon. For Childs, there is a "canonical shape" and shaping. Not only is there a conscious fivefold division, with the interior three books distinct from the surrounding frame, but also the very shape of the canonical story leaves Israel outside the land, a situation that emphasizes the prominence of Torah rather than territory.

For the biblical editors, the first five books constituted the grounds of Israel's life under God and provided a critical norm of how the Mosaic tradition was to be understood by the covenant people.⁶

As the vocabulary of that sentence demonstrates, Childs is fully open to the notion of various authors and editors, i.e., the question of the Pentateuch's formation. Moreover, his canonical perspective is informed by the notion of editors shaping material. However, the canonical form presents testimony apart from reconstructions of the Pentateuch's formation.

There has been a tendency among some recent literary critics to pursue purely literary issues and then use their conclusions to address the problems of literary formation a la the source-critical hypothesis, without engaging the hypothesis directly. For example, it is not unusual to find an individual arguing that a biblical author is using the artifice of tension—different vocabulary and different literary style—to create a narrative, whereas such evidence would have been used by the source critic to maintain the presence of diverse traditions or sources. Similarly, evidence of a complicated plot or literary structure is often deemed as evidence for a sole author, rather than multiple traditions.⁷ Such judgments may, on occasion, seem interesting, and yet rarely do they have the force necessary to offer an alternative to the various source-critical hypotheses.

The Flood Narrative

There are a number of parade examples for the classical form of the source-critical hypothesis. One that regularly appears in textbooks and introductory lectures is the flood story, Gen 6:5-9:17. During much of the twentieth century, most commentators agreed not only that these chapters could be allocated either to the J or P source, but they also held J to be the earlier version, which had later been supplemented by the P material (whether as independent source or redactional addition). The consensus was strong enough that the two versions were printed up separately in a standard volume such as von Rad's Genesis.

In thinking about these texts, it may prove useful to review the aforementioned recent proposals about the formation of the Pentateuch by articulating their respective positions, when evident, on the flood narrative. Blenkinsopp and Van Seters both argue that the flood story contains J and P material. Van Seters attributes the primary narrative to J and deems P to constitute a number of additions, chronology and the like, but P offers no different narrative elements. Blenkinsopp posits a diametrically opposed notion, namely, that P provides the primary story line and that J constitutes a series of additions, most notably the bird-sending scene. Here, two scholars, both working with source-critical perspectives, develop positions that stand in stark contrast. Cross appears similar to Van Seters, namely, maintaining the primacy of J and the supplementary character of P. Finally, Rendtorff, who would not admit a J source extending beyond the primeval history, does identify "two different literary strata" in the flood narrative.⁸ However, he offers no explicit judgments about the primacy of one over the other, nor does he allow the status of either one as an independent narrative. Instead, he is inclined to speak of a narrative that has been supplemented. Especially occasion, interesting here is the prominence of "supplementary" vocabulary in most of these positions.

Few scholars who work on the flood narrative dispute the multiple voices in that material, i.e., the sorts of arguments adduced in typical source-critical discussions. However, at the moment, there are at least three unresolved questions: (1) Are both traditions narratives, or is one only a supplement, i.e., not a full narrative? (2) Is it possible to determine which version is basic or primary? and (3) Is either tradition connected to or a part of a tradition outside the primeval history?

The third question lies beyond the scope of this essay. However, the first two questions, which are of fundamental importance to an assessment of the flood narratives' origins, may be addressed here. And in so doing, I offer one suggestion about the manner in which future study of these narratives (and more generally the Pentateuch) might proceed. Specifically, it would seem appropriate to use literary critical perspectives to address some of the issues that have arisen in the source-critical discussion.

The first question requires us to identify what we mean by a narrative. A narrative is more than a chronicle or annal. A chronicle may report events in a sequence, but it is not a narrative per se. A chronicle or annal does not present the literary dynamics typically associated with a story. Some literary critics speak of narrative structure that presents three primary components: an initial platform, followed by a complication and then a resolution. Others speak of rising and then falling action. Still others refer to the beginning, middle, and end of a narrative. All this language constitutes different ways to conceptualize what we mean by plot.

The notion of plot is of pivotal importance in addressing the first aforementioned question. If a body of textual material that has been attributed to one of the classic sources does not possess plot structure, then one might assume it to have the character of a supplement, and not that of a basic story.

If one reviews the flood texts attributed to J and P, it should, in theory, be possible to determine if either one or both embodies a plot.⁹ Without making the exercise too arcane, one might ask specifically: does each of the accounts present a beginning, middle, and end? To address this question, we must make a tentative judgment about where the respective flood stories begin. The answer for P seems clear: with Gen 6:9. And most readers working from a source-critical perspective would point to Gen 6:5 for the J material. Yet, there is something peculiar about this beginning of the J flood account. Genesis 6:5-8 are a prologue to the story like that preserved in the Atrahasis epic, namely, that a deity wanted to destroy humankind. In that epic, the deity (Enlil) attempted drought and disease before turning to a flood. Genesis 6:5-8 does not refer specifically to a flood, only that God will "blot out humanity." And then J, in Gen 7:1, jumps to orders according to which Noah is to load and enter the ark. A major early portion of the flood story (as told in Atrahasis, Gilgamesh, and P) is not present in J, namely, the specific decision by the deity to effect a flood and the interaction with a human that results in the creation of an ark.

From this perspective alone, one might begin to argue that J presents only a partial narrative, a skeleton for the flood story as we know it elsewhere. It is important to note the methodological move, namely, to utilize a literary-critical category, narrative structure, to address a source-critical problem. In so doing, one is able to achieve leverage of a new sort on the topic of the literature's formation. In this case, the P version of the flood appears to present a more complete beginning of the narrative. J appears fragmentary when compared with the more complete narrative structure of P. Moreover, J seems to supplement that P narrative, for example, by introducing more detail regarding the bird-sending scene. But in no way does J present major new narrative moments. Such a judgment suggests that P has provided the basic narrative and that J works as a supplement to it. And these are the sorts of judgments that classical source criticism entailed, but could not readily resolve.

Such blending of critical perspectives should prove useful in addressing some of the basic questions vexing those interested in the formation of the Pentateuch. And, more generally, it may be possible for critical and postcritical perspectives to engage in fruitful dialogue, rather than to stand in an either isolated or antagonistic posture.

Directions for Future Research

This overview of theories about the formation of the Pentateuch suggests that the basic positions adumbrated by earlier scholars will continue to reappear. Theories articulated in the nineteenth century have achieved prominence in the twentieth century as well. Hence, one should expect to see the source, fragment, and supplementary theories in various forms. Vigorous debate between the various critical positions will continue. And, in the postcritical vein, some scholars with special interest in literary matters will be inattentive to questions about the Pentateuch's formation. Others will utilize newer literary perspectives to argue that the Pentateuch was not so much formed—out of diverse traditions and at different times—but was created by a primary author. What one may hope for is a crossover, namely, that some scholars with expertise in literary matters will broach the question of the Pentateuch's formation and will be conversant with the vigorous contemporary discussion about Pentateuchal formation. In that way, new perspectives might be brought to bear upon a nodal problem in Hebrew Bible studies.

Scholars will also struggle with even broader questions: Is the Pentateuch a meaningful entity in its own right? What is the primary early Israelite story—is it presented in Genesis through Numbers, Genesis through Deuteronomy, or Genesis through Joshua? If the first, then the covenant at Sinai, particularly as understood from a ritual perspective, seems primary. If the second, then the promulgation of Mosaic Torah has been highlighted. And if the third, then accession of the land is the primary point of resolution.

These various judgments are essentially literary. However, the issues they raise will broaden to include social-world problems. For example, it will be necessary to ask: In what social environment would any of these literary works have been important? Some scholars maintain that the Pentateuch was elicited by the religious and social needs of Persian period Judah, particularly as that community was encouraged to codify its own "native" religious traditions by the Achaemenid empire. How would this community view the Pentateuch's story of Israel outside the land? These topics are best suited to the social-world approach, a fact that emphasizes the need both for methodological clarity and the complementary use of various perspectives in the future.

Notes

¹ At this point in the argument, Noth depended decisively on von Rad's articulation of the various literary moments that make up the Pentateuch. And von Rad, even more than Noth, honored the source-critical perspective. For von Rad, the Yahwist was the author of the Pentateuch—both as writer and as redactor.

² For Rendtorff, important "larger units" in the Pentateuch are: the primeval story, the patriarchal story, Exodus 1-15 (Moses and Exodus), Exodus 19-24 (Sinai), Exodus 16-18 and Numbers 11-20 (wilderness), and occupation of the land.

³ There is, of course, a related issue, namely, even if the Tetrateuch were deemed not to contain D material, it may have been composed to serve as a prologue to the deuteronomistic history.

⁴ For example, 0. Steck, "Aufbauprobleme in der Priesterschrift," Ernte, was man sät: Festschrift für Klaus Koch zu seinem 65 Geburtstag, ed. D. Daniels et al. (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1991) 28-308; C. Westermann, Genesis 1-11 (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1984), 588-600.

⁵ D. Clines, The Theme of the Pentateuch, JSOTSup 10 (Sheffield: JSOT, 1978) 29.

⁶ B. Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1979), 131-32.

⁷ In that regard it is interesting to compare two articles that appeared in 1978: B. Anderson, "From Analysis to Synthesis: The Interpretation of Genesis 1-11," JBL 97 (1978), 23-39; G. Wenham, "The Coherence of the Flood Narrative," VT28 (1978) 336-48. The respective authors made a very similar argument about literary structure and yet diverged on the issue of literary formation.

⁸ R. Rendtorff, The Old Testament: An Introduction (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986) 133.

⁹ Much in the analysis depends upon the specific divisions of the textual material. It is instructive to compare von Rad's divisions with those of Van Seters.

Selected Bibliography

Blenkinsopp, J. The Pentateuch: An Introduction to the First Five Books of the Bible. ABRL. New York: Doubleday, 1992.

Blum, E. Studien zur Komposition des Pentateuch. BZAW 189. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1990.

Campbell, A., and M. O'Brien. Sources of the Pentateuch: Texts, Introductions, Annotations. Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1993.

Clines, D. The Theme of the Pentateuch. JSOTSup 10. Sheffield: JSOT 1978.

Cross, F. "The Priestly Work." In Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1973, 293-325.

de Pury, A. Le Pentateuque en question: Les origines et la composition des cinq premiers livres de la Bible à la lumière des recherches rècentes. Le Monde de la Bible. Geneva: Labor et Fides, 1989.

Gunkel, H. The Legends of Genesis: The Biblical Saga and History. New York: Schocken, 1964.

Noth, M. A History of Pentateuchal Traditions. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1972.

Rendtorff, R. The Problem of the Process of Transmission in the Pentateuch. JSOTSup 89. Sheffield: JSOT 1990.

Seters, J. Van. Prologue to History: The Yahwist as Historian in Genesis. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1992.

von Rad, G. "The Form-Critical Problem of the Hexateuch." In The Problem of the Hexateuch and Other Essays. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966, 1-78.

Wellhausen, J. Prolegomenon to the History of Ancient Israel. New York: Meridian, 1957.

Whybray, R. The Making of the Pentateuch: A Methodological Study. JSOTSup 53. Sheffield: JSOT 1987.