Matthew Schlimm

Have you ever wondered...

Why does the Old Testament open with an account of the world's origins that appears to contradict science?

Why do its characters sometimes do terrible things?

Why is it so violent?

Why doesn't it treat women better?

Why does it contain so many weird commandments, many of which Christians don't follow?

Why does it appear to contradict itself?

Why do its prayers contain so much grief and anger?

Why is its God so angry?

How should the Old Testament guide Christian living?

In this book, I wrestle with these questions.

Throughout, I make the case that the Old Testament is best understood as a friend in faith.

This book works well in several settings:
    *Adult Christian Education Classes
    *OT Intro Classes at the College Level
    *OT Intro Classes at the Seminary Level

Written by leading scholars, the CEB Study Bible helps readers understand the biblical texts within the larger historical and literary framework of the Bible through book introductions, thousands of notes, more than 300 articles, and full-color images throughout, revealing cultural contexts and exploring relevant background information—while always seeking to inspire.

In the first book of the Bible, every patriarch and many of the matriarchs become angry in significant ways. However, scholars have largely ignored how Genesis treats this emotion, particularly how Genesis functions as Torah by providing ethical instruction about handling this emotion’s perplexities. In this important work, Schlimm fills this gap in scholarship, describing (1) the language surrounding anger in the Hebrew Bible, (2) the moral guidance that Genesis offers for engaging anger, and (3) the function of anger as a literary motif in Genesis.

Genesis evidences two bookends, which expose readers to the opposite extremes of anger and its effects. In Gen 4:1–16, anger takes center stage when Cain kills his brother, Abel, although he has done nothing wrong. Fratricide is at one extreme of the spectrum of anger’s results. In the final chapter of Genesis, readers encounter the opposite extreme, forgiveness. Here, Joseph and his brothers forgive one another after a long history of jealousy, anger, deception, and abuse. It is a moment of reconciliation offered just before the book closes, allowing readers to see Joseph as an anti-Cain—someone who has all the power and all the reasons to harm his brothers but instead turns away from anger and, despite the inherent difficulties, offers forgiveness.

Although Genesis frames its post-Edenic narratives with two contrasting outcomes of anger—fratricide and forgiveness—it avoids simplistic moral platitudes, such as demanding that its readers respond to being angry with someone by forgiving the person. Genesis instead returns to the theme of anger on many occasions, presenting a multifaceted message about its ethical significance. The text is quite realistic about the difficulties that individuals face and the paradoxes presented by anger. Genesis presents this emotion as a force that naturally arises from one’s moral sensitivities in response to the perception of wrongdoing. At the same time, the text presents anger as a great threat to the moral life. Genesis thus warns readers about the dangers of anger, but it never suggests that one can lead a life free from this emotion. Instead, it portrays many characters who are forced to deal with anger, presenting them with dilemmas that defy easy resolution. Genesis invites readers to imagine ways of alleviating anger, but it is painfully realistic about how difficult, threatening, and short-lived attempts at reconciliation may be.

This article conducts a postcolonial critique of the crusader film Kingdom of Heaven (2005). The article shows that although reviewers praised the film for its message of tolerance, this movie actually embodies forms of neocolonial and Orientalist discourse. This article demonstrates the necessity of what Raymie McKerrow and Michel Foucault call “permanent criticism,” that is, exposing how apparently liberating rhetoric can also serve oppressive ends. It also joins previous critics such as Robert Ivie in examining the forces that convince societies of war's necessity. It gives particular attention to how this film joined broader societal discourses urging Western military involvement in the Middle East. Finally, this article demonstrates how Orientalist discourse has adapted to changes in the contemporary religious landscape, continuing to marginalize Islam, even in an environment where Christianity has partially lost its hegemony. The film transforms Saladin—a highly feared Muslim warrior—into a spokesperson for post-Christian values. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Nissim Amzallag recently argued that words from the Biblical Hebrew root קנא have very different meanings depending on whether they are used in the human or divine context. While “jealousy” is an acceptable translation in the human sphere, Amzallag claims that in the divine sphere these words refer to furnace remelting, signaling that Israel’s God was viewed as a smelting deity. There are several problems with Amzallag’s argument. By paying closer attention to linguistic evidence and methodological considerations, one finds that in both human and divine contexts words from the root קנא are best understood with
the traditional translation “jealousy,” an emotion closely related to anger, rather than the elaborate metallurgical imagery that Amzallag proposes.

Archaeologists have discovered ancient manuscripts--some much older than the Bible--that are similar to the Bible in a variety of ways.  What should Christians make of this fact?  This article finds resources in John Wesley's doctrine of prevenient grace.

This article conducts a postcolonial critique of the crusader film Kingdom of heaven (2005).  It shows that although reviewers praised the film for its message of tolerance, this movie actually embodies forms of neocolonial and Orientalist discourse.  This article demonstrates the necessity of what Raymie McKerrow and Michel Foucault call “permanent criticism,” that is, exposing how apparently liberating rhetoric can also serve oppressive ends.  It also joins previous critics such as Robert Ivie in examining the forces that convince societies of war’s necessity.  It gives particular attention to how this film joined broader societal discourses urging Western military involvement in the Middle East.  Finally, this article demonstrates how Orientalist discourse has adapted to changes in the contemporary religious landscape, continuing to marginalize Islam, even in an environment where Christianity has partially lost its hegemony.  The film transforms Saladin—a highly feared Muslim warrior—into a spokesperson for post-Christian values.

Throughout much of the 20th century, important albeit limited interactions have taken place between the disciplines of biblical studies and rhetorical criticism. Initially, such connections involved the study of genre in biblical form criticism. With James Muilenburg’s Presidential Address to the Society of Biblical Literature in 1968, however, biblical studies became much more engaged in rhetorical criticism. Due to the narrowness of Muilenburg’s vision, however, such engagement at first focused primarily on stylistics. It then expanded as Muilenburg’s students and others arrived at more mature understandings of rhetoric. Biblical studies currently parallels rhetorical criticism in that it includes a fair amount of ideological criticism, which is usually focused on the biblical text, biblical scholarship, or broader society. Despite these areas of continuity, biblical scholars have often ignored some of the most prominent scholars in rhetorical criticism, including Edwin Black and Kenneth Burke.