Thursday, March 9, 2023

Pietro Bovati on "Peace" (שׁלום)

  

Peace

 

A situation of conflict takes the form of one party ‘moving against another’ (Judg. 21.22; 1 Sam. 24.15; 25.20-22 etc.) and develops into strife which resembles or turns into war. The cessation of a dispute, then, is marked by expressions to the contrary; it is said that everyone ‘returns’ to their own dwelling (Gen. 21.32b; 1 Sa. 24.23; 26.25; 1 Kgs 1.51) and often it is made clear that this return takes place bešālôm (Gen. 26.29, 31; 28.31; 1 Sam. 29.7; 2 Sam. 3.21-323) or lešālôm (gen. 44.17; 1 Sam. 20.13, 42; 25.35; 2 Kgs 5.19).

 

Returning ‘peacefully’ is the sign of an end to hostilities in the case of war (Josh. 10.21; Judg. .9; 11.31; 2 Sam. 19.25-31; 1 Kgs 2.17, 27-28; Jer. 43.12; Ps. 55.19); in the case of a juridical controversy, it means that there are no more reasons for strife, because the relationship between the parties has moved from disagreement to agreement, form a punitive threat to a kind of friendly relationship.

 

We may conclude from these observations that the concept of ‘peace’ is used to describe the end of a controversy (cf. Job 22.21). Its semantic force is many-sided, as has been highlighted by a number of monographs; I would like to note there only that they really do deal with the juridical sphere.

 

I have already mentioned the opposition war-peace: this could form the basis for an understanding of why the prophetic preaching, especially in Jeremiah, insists upon a denial of the foretelling of peace (Jer. 4.10; 6.14; 8.11, 15; 12.12; 14.19; 23.17; Ezek. 13.10; Mic. 3.5); this is the equivalent of declaring the rîb of YHWH against Israel still open; vice versa, the good news of peace after the destruction of Jerusalem has great force as the offer and promise of reconciliation (Isa. 52.7; 57.19).

 

The relationship, on the other hand, which exists between justice and peace is well known: it is precisely injustice that sets in motion the accuser’s juridical action, and only the re-establishment of just relations can being peace between the people involved (cf. Exod. 18.23; Isa. 9.5-6; 26.2-3, 12; 32.17-18; 48.18; 59.7-8; 60.17; Pss. 72.7; 85.11; 122.7-8 etc.). As regards a two-sided controversy, it is significant that the act of justice that brings about peace is essentially the forgiveness granted by the offended party (cf. Isa. 57.14-21; Jer. 33.6-9); indeed we might well ask whether it is possible to reach real concord without an act of mercy that returns one’s dignity and gives on back a place in civil life.

 

When all is said, however, the concept of ‘peace’ is rather vague; it can in fact mean no more than the cessation of hostilities without any request for a precise kind of relationship or friendship. Once again I would like to point out that it is necessary to bear in mind the dynamic of the whole controversy in order to evaluate the meaning of its conclusion.

 

Covenant

 

The concept of ‘peace’ noted in the previous section can be fleshed out by observing that, after the hostilities, the disputants normally feel the need to stipulate a pact between them for the future.

 

At the outset I said that in order to engage in a controversy the subjects of it had to have a relationship with each other by way of some sort of (often only implicit) structure which regulates their mutual rights and duties; now, when the controversy ends, it is this bond of relationship that is clarified, reinforced or renewed.

 

From a literary point of view, it appears that a rîb in the Bible is often concluded by the stipulation of a covenant; a very obvious case is the one of the controversy between Laban and Jacob (Gen. 31.44-54), but see also Gen. 21.27; Exod. 34.10; Josh. 9.14; 2 Sam. 3.12-21; 1 Kgs 20.34; Neh. 10.1. It is also well known that covenants are based on mutual oaths of fidelity, and we may observe that, after the dispute, this sworn promise is clarified (Gen. 21.31; 26.31; 31.53; 1 Sam. 19.6; 24.23; 2 Sam. 19.24; 1 Kgs 1.51; 2.8; Neh. 5.6-13). Finally, the ritual of a covenant after a rîb may involve the parties to the contact eating a meal together (Gen. 26.31; 2 Sam. 3.20) or making a sacrifice (Judg. 2.5; 2 Sam. 24.25) or giving other signs of their communal decision (cf. Gen. 21.27-28; 31.25; cf. also 1 Sam. 15.31; 2 Sam. 12.20).

 

It would be out of all proportion to the rest of my work to bury myself in an analysis of covenant structure; all that matters is that it represents a way of concluding a controversy that is considerably richer semantically than those listed previously. Its value is firstly that precise norms are laid down to regulate the behavior of each party in the future (the law); this will avoid (it is hoped) that series of fatal misunderstandings which arise out of an imperfect awareness of each other’s rights and duties. Secondly, a covenant is a solemn promise of mutual fidelity, which is not only a declaration of present friendship but also is put forward as a guarantee for the future, inasmuch as oath-takers call down upon themselves that just and infallible judgment which is the judgment of God. Lastly, especially in covenant rites that involve a banquet or sacrifice, a communion between the contracting parties is signified that goes far beyond a casual agreement or a truce in hostilities; taking part in the same source of life is the sign of a communion between people, in which may be discerned the outlines of true justice.

 

But also in a covenant, as in all the other possible forms of conclusion of the rîb, the important thing is not to insist on the external form that signifies the end of the discord and the beginning of a new relationship. It is absolutely necessary to see how the whole controversy developed, and what level of truth the mutual relationship has reached.

 

Agreements fall apart, peaces are violated, covenants are infringed; that is not to deny their value and their respective functions, but it does leave doubts about the possibility of getting away from an interpersonal situation which is perpetually subject to crisis and uncertain as to its future. The history of Israel, as seen through the eyes of the Deuteronomist, looks like a monotonously repeated series of broken and reformulated agreements between God and Israel. This chain of betrayal makes re-proposals of the pact more and more insignificant as they go along, and makes a new attempt by the offended party unjustified.

 

There comes a moment in history when permission is no longer given to put the same old proposal on the table under the pretense of starting afresh; the moment comes when the old structure is judged to be decayed and finished for ever (Jer. 31.31-32). Then something new appears, which is not the updating of what has already been gone through, but something unheard of and unexpected (Isa. 48.6-8). The price of this new start—to which we attach the content of the new ‘covenant’—is the confession of human inability to be faithful to him who is ‘just in all his actions’, and the trust that his justice can be communicated as a personal gift of communion (the law) (Jer. 31.33). Authentic reconciliation, whose character is as fixed as the heavens (Jer. 31.35-37; 33.19-26), can only take place in the humble recognition that the wretchedness of the sinner is not so strong as to stand in the way of the mercy shown by the Just One (Isa. 45.21; Jer. 31.20; Hos. 11.8-9). (Pietro Bovati, Re-Establishing Justice: Legal Terms, Concepts and Procedures in the Hebrew Bible [Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series 105; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1994], 163-66)