The Old Testament as Literature (Approaching the Old Testament): Foundations for Christian Interpretation

APPROACHING THE OLD TESTAMENT

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The Old Testament as Literature

© 2024 by Tremper Longman III

Published by Baker Academic

a division of Baker Publishing Group

Grand Rapids, Michigan

BakerAcademic.com

Ebook edition created 2024

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

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ISBN 978-1-4934-4437-3

Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture quotations labeled NRSVue are taken from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition. Copyright © 2021 National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

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To our two new grandchildren

Theodore James Longman (February 18, 2022)

Adelyn Jane Longman (June 14, 2022)

Contents

Cover

Half Title Page

Series Page

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Preface

Abbreviations

Introduction: Scope and Procedure

PART 1: LITERARY THEORY AND THE CONVENTIONS OF BIBLICAL NARRATIVE AND POETRY

1. The Location of Meaning

2. History of the Study of the Old Testament as Literature

3. Genre Triggers Reading Strategy

4. Narrative Prose as Genre

5. Poetry as Genre

6. Intertextuality

PART 2: THE ANALYSIS OF ILLUSTRATIVE PROSE-NARRATIVE TEXTS

7. Literary Readings of Prose Narratives from the Torah

8. Literary Readings of Prose Narratives from the Historical Books

PART 3: THE ANALYSIS OF ILLUSTRATIVE POETIC TEXTS

9. Literary Readings of Poetic Texts from the Psalms

Psalm 46: Hymn

Psalm 77: Lament

Psalm 67: Thanksgiving Psalm

Psalm 23: Psalm of Confidence

10. Literary Readings of Poetic Texts from Wisdom Literature

Proverbs 9:1–6, 13–18: Woman Wisdom or Woman Folly?

Proverbs 14:1–7: Assorted Proverbs

Ecclesiastes 9:11–12: Time and Chance

Job 38:2–7: God Challenges Job

11. Literary Readings of Poetic Texts from the Prophets and Epic Poetry

Nahum 1:2–8: The Coming of the Warrior

Judges 5:19–27: An Epic Poem Celebrating Victory

Postlude: The Old Testament as Literature

Bibliography

Scripture Index

Author Index

Subject Index

Cover Flaps

Back Cover

Preface

I want to start by thanking Baker Academic and in particular Jim Kinney for inviting me to write a three-volume series of books titled Approaching the Old Testament. This book is the first contribution to the series and focuses on the literary quality of the Old Testament. I have already begun work on the second volume, about the Old Testament and history, and have started thinking about the third, on the theology of the Old Testament.

I have had the privilege of studying the Old Testament professionally for over forty years, having started teaching in 1980 and completing my doctorate in 1983. I have taught and written about the literary, historical, and theological dimensions of the Old Testament during this time, and this series affords me the opportunity to offer my best thinking at the twilight of my career. Jim assures me that he is not thinking of this as my end-of-life project. Indeed, some of my colleagues in the field are still making wonderful contributions in their eighties and nineties (I am 70 at the time of writing). Nonetheless, I approach this project with the awareness that these books may be my last opportunity to pass along my thinking on these three different but interlocking perspectives on the study of the Old Testament.

I thank Jim, who has been an encouragement to me throughout my career, for reading through the manuscript and offering suggestions. I also want to thank John Goldingay, a brilliant Old Testament scholar in his own right, for also giving me editorial guidance. Of course, especially since I did not always follow their advice, they bear no responsibility for any remaining errors or missteps in the book. In addition, I deeply appreciate the work of Wells Turner (senior editor) and his team for improving the manuscript and guiding the final steps of its production.

I have enjoyed returning to the topic of a literary approach to the Old Testament. My very first book was Literary Approaches to Biblical Interpretation. I have always been mindful of the importance of interpreting the Bible in light of the narrative and poetic conventions that Hebrew storytellers and poets used in their writing. Writing the present book has given me the opportunity to revisit the topic in a deeper way than I have since the 1980s and also to reconnect with the wider discipline of literary studies outside biblical scholarship. As I explain in more detail later in the book, literary study is quite different today from what it was in the 1980s. Back then, the recurrent mantra was that the author was dead, which signaled the belief that interpreters should give up talking about authorial intention in any sense. Today such skepticism is seen as an overreaction. I found it refreshing to discover that literary theory now spends less time seeking to question the possibility of textual meaning and more time providing the necessary terminology and tools to actually interpret the text.

My wife, Alice, and I celebrated our fiftieth wedding anniversary in June 2023. We have been blessed with three wonderful sons (Tremper IV, Timothy, and Andrew) and now eight beautiful grandchildren. This book is dedicated to the two newest members of our immediate family, Theodore (Rory) and Adelyn (Addie). Rory is our first grandson, and Addie is our seventh granddaughter. Rory and Addie, we welcome you into the world and love you dearly.

Abbreviations

General and Bibliographic

Old Testament / Hebrew Bible

New Testament

Introduction

Scope and Procedure

The Hebrew Bible (HB) / Old Testament (OT), as recognized by Protestant Christians, is a collection of thirty-nine books. These thirty-nine books were written over a long period of time, between the second half of the second millennium BC and approximately 300 BC. The books also represent a variety of different types of literature, including history, law, wisdom, prophecy, and apocalyptic.

Jews and Christians have recognized all these books, in spite of their diversity, as canonical, the standard of faith and practice. This recognition implies confidence, at some fundamental level, in these thirty-nine books. The present three-volume project (Approaching the Old Testament) is intended to explore the OT from three perspectives (literary, historical, and theological) in order to discern its message.

The OT was written by multiple contributors. Studying the composition history of the biblical books is interesting and important, especially the issue of authorship, as is evident in the following chapters. For the most part, the authors of the HB are anonymous. The OT itself names some individuals as writing books or portions of books: among them are Moses (Exod. 24:4; 34:27; Num. 33:2; Deut. 31:22), David (Ps. 51:1), Solomon (Prov. 1:1), Isaiah (Isa. 1:1), and Jeremiah (Jer. 1:1). Of course, much debate surrounds the reliability of these authorship claims. For now, it is enough to note that the OT records lots of different human voices, even many anonymous ones. Sometimes these human voices explicitly claim to be speaking the Word of God, and the church has received these books, along with the books of the New Testament (NT), with that understanding. These books have been the object of intense scholarly and devotional study not just because of their antiquity but because many Jews and Christians regard them as ultimately God’s words to his human creatures. This claim is further explored in the third volume of this trilogy, which focuses on theology. Here in the present volume, I assume the validity of this claim and assert that the ultimate goal of interpretation is to hear not just the voices of the human authors but ultimately the voice of the divine author.

Although the literature, history, and theology of the OT will be examined in three separate volumes, these three features deeply intertwine with one another. What the books of the OT teach about God and his relationship with humanity (theology) includes God’s acts in space and time (history), such as the exodus. Recognizing how the book of Exodus claims that the rescue from Egypt happened in history is a consequence of understanding the genre of the book (literature). The literary shape of the stories and poems as presented in the HB not only informs readers of whether the author intends them to be regarded as accounts of what happened in history but also communicates a theological message.

Put another way, the books feature God and his relationship with his people and therefore are theological. Their authors spoke out of and about concrete historical situations and to specific actual audiences and are therefore historical. Yet the focus of the present volume is neither theological nor historical but literary, for the books of the OT are appropriately the subject of literary analysis. Because the books of the OT are literature, it is appropriate to use literary tools to interpret them. As we will see, the authors of the OT were not only conscious of their message (what they said) but intentional about how they said it.

Despite the intertwining of these three aspects, I believe it is possible to focus on one aspect of the OT—here the literary aspect—and momentarily bracket out the other two. A literary approach to the OT books explores how their authors present their narratives and poems. Since the OT/HB is a collection of books produced over many centuries, most, if not all, of the books have histories of composition resulting in the final forms we know today. But the books of the OT are not all of one type or genre. On the broadest level, the books contain prose narrative and poetry, but many different types of narratives and poems are included.

In this book, I discuss both literary theory and literary practice. Theory asks how texts construct meaning. Literary practice analyzes the strategies that authors use to express their message to their audience. Part 1 (chaps. 1–6) discusses theory and develops a strategy for performing literary analysis (with examples from the biblical text). Parts 2 and 3 (chaps. 7–11) present the literary analysis of several representative texts from different genres.

In chapter 1, I turn to the question of literary theory to present my perspective on how texts generate meaning or, to put it differently, to ask where meaning is located in a literary text. The discussion revolves around the act of literary communication as an author writes a text to an audience.

Until the middle decades of the twentieth century, literary scholars believed that interpretation involves recovering the author’s intended meaning. This goal often means reading a text in the light of what can be known of the author’s biography as a way of getting into the writer’s mind. With the rise of Russian Formalism and New Criticism, the locus of meaning shifted from author to text, marked most notably by W. K. Wimsatt and M. Beardsley’s highly influential work in questioning authorial intention.1 Classical structuralists in the 1960s and 1970s furthered the strategy of simply focusing on the text and not appealing to anything outside the text itself. Reader-response theories, including the ideological approaches derived from them, shifted once again, this time to the reader. Some reader-response approaches argue that the text constrains the reader’s interpretation; others argue against this limitation. Deconstruction simply denies that there is any determinate meaning to be discovered in a text. Interestingly, prominent secular theorists today are returning to a modified recognition of the importance of the author’s intention, but this intention can only be discovered from the text itself. I conclude the chapter by surveying the landscape of literary study of the OT today and describing my own approach to literary theory.

In chapter 2, I summarize the past relationship between biblical and literary studies. Although pre-Enlightenment interpreters appreciated the literary quality of the biblical text, the modern period abandoned a literary approach in favor of a strictly historical study. From around 1800 to the 1980s, scholars pursued questions of the prehistory of the final forms of the biblical texts and asked questions about referentiality, such as How did Israel come to occupy the land? The last two decades of the twentieth century saw a literary turn that many describe as a paradigm shift. This literary turn means that scholars have bracketed historical questions, excising them from the discussion.

The literary turn was not a simple or univocal one. As biblical scholars turned to secular literary theory, they discovered diverse ideas and approaches: Russian Formalism, New Criticism, structuralism, deconstruction, and interpretive methods such as reader-response, feminist, Marxist, queer, postcolonial, and New Historicist. Though triggered by the insightful analysis of a close reader like Robert Alter, the literary study of the OT soon devolved into battles over theory.

By the early twenty-first century, the field’s intense focus on literary theory and even literary practice seemed to taper, and there was a move back to issues of history. In chapter 2, I take a closer look at the ups and downs of literary approaches to biblical interpretation, ask about the present state of the issues, and look into the future.

In chapter 3, I develop a theory of genre for the purpose of applying it to the interpretation of texts. Genre theory asks questions like the following: What is a genre? How do genres help authors construct meaning and make that meaning accessible to readers? How do individual texts relate to genre(s)? My most important conclusion is that authors send genre signals to their readers to convey how to take their words and thus trigger a reading strategy. While texts can participate in multiple genres, this does not mean that they participate in all genres. Misidentifying the genre can lead to misreading a text. In the process of describing genre, I contrast what I consider to be the proper approach with the extremely influential but misguided approach developed by Hermann Gunkel over a century ago.

In terms of the broad conception of genre, the HB contains two types: narrative prose and poetry. Chapter 4 treats biblical narrative, and chapter 5 examines biblical poetry. As Alter points out regarding narrative, Every culture, even every era in a particular culture, develops distinctive and sometimes intricate codes for telling its stories.2 The same holds true for poetry. In chapter 4, I explore the conventions of narrative, utilizing categories and insights from contemporary narratology. I look at how authors use narrators to present the story, how characters are presented, settings are described, time is manipulated, and events are selected. Being aware of Hebrew storytelling conventions yields a richer and more accurate interpretation of the text. In chapter 5, I look at the conventions employed by ancient Hebrew poets: parallelism, voice, figurative language, and more, which enables us to gain greater interpretive depth and clarity. The final chapter in part 1 examines the phenomenon of intertextuality as it is employed today in the study of the OT.

Of course, the proof of the pudding is in the eating. Thus, after gaining a strategy for literary analysis in part 1, I put that strategy into practice in parts 2 and 3. Although several representative examples of prose and poetic texts are considered in part 1, parts 2 and 3 offer a more robust and well-rounded presentation, with a focus on the literary quality of the texts. In chapters 7 and 8, a variety of prose texts from Genesis, Exodus, Samuel, and Nehemiah are examined. Chapters 9 through 11 focus on poetic texts from several different biblical books, including lyric poetry, didactic poetry, prophetic poetry, and epic poetry.

1. Wimsatt and Beardsley, Intentional Fallacy.

2. Alter, How Convention Helps Us Read, 115.

PART ONE

Literary Theory and the Conventions of Biblical Narrative and Poetry

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We begin by exploring literary theory, in particular probing the question of how texts generate meaning. Authors write texts for readers, but where is meaning to be found in the process? Some look to the text apart from the author, while others believe that readers create meaning. We will defend the view that the goal of interpretation is to discover, through analysis of the text, the meaning intended by the author, while remaining mindful that readers interpret through lenses that are shaped by their gender, ethnicity, social position, and more. Even so, by reading in community, our individual interpretation can be deepened, corrected, or affirmed. Chapters 1 and 2 examine these issues and provide a historical orientation to the various interpretive approaches used by those in biblical and literary circles.

Since readers encounter an author’s meaning in and through the text, we must become better informed about the type of writing we are reading. Thus, genre becomes key to interpretation, aided by an awareness of the conventions of narrative and poetry. Genre is discussed in chapter 3, and in chapters 4 and 5 we look at the conventions of biblical narrative and poetry.

one

The Location of Meaning

The books of the OT are products of literary communication. In the act of literary communication, authors write texts to readers. The purpose of the various books of the Bible, like that of all acts of writing, is to communicate a message to an audience. In oral communication, speakers intend to convey a message to whomever they are speaking. This communicative intention is true even if one is communicating with oneself, as when giving an oral soliloquy or writing in a personal journal. The act of literary communication may be represented by a simple diagram:

Author → Text → Reader

Because an author writes a text to communicate a message to the reader, it seems reasonable to locate a literary text’s meaning in the intention of the author. If this understanding is correct, then the goal of interpretation is to discover the intention of the author. The interpreter reverses the direction of communication by reading the text to hear the voice of the author.

Such an understanding of writing and reading also applies to biblical literature. The author writes the text to communicate to readers, and readers then read biblical texts to hear the voice of the author. Although I defend what I consider to be a nuanced authorial-intention approach to interpretation, complications arise at every stage of the process. It is therefore worthwhile to look at each aspect more closely.

Author → Text → Reader

The Text

The text of the OT that most readers interpret is typically what appears in an English translation of the Bible, whether modern (e.g., NIV, NLT, ESV, NRSVue, JB, NAB) or traditional (e.g., KJV, NKJV). These versions are primarily based on medieval Hebrew manuscripts, especially Codex Leningradensis, as presented in Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia (BHS), along with notes identifying significant variants.

One complication that arises when reading an OT book to discover the author’s meaning is that the vast majority of OT books were not written by one person at one time. For instance, virtually no one thinks that Moses wrote every word of the Pentateuch. At a minimum, someone other than Moses had to write the account of his death (Deut. 34). This does not require one to accept the so-called Documentary Hypothesis, which claims that the present form of the Pentateuch is a fusion of four main sources over a period of hundreds of years, but everyone must acknowledge that more than one hand in more than one time period has produced the Pentateuch as we now know it.

So one decision readers must make concerns what text they will interpret. Should they use the tools of historical criticism to determine the original text and free it from later additions? My answer is no. The object of interpretation is not some speculative earlier form but rather the final form of the biblical book, the form recognized as canonical by the church.

The book of Job offers a convenient example of this issue. Several questions arise when examining the compositional history of the book of Job.1 Is the version of Job found in modern English translations, based on Codex Leningradensis, the original form of this biblical book? Many scholars claim that certain sections were added later, after the book’s initial composition, and different theories are put forward to explain this. One theory is that the prose story was the original tale, which was later expanded by the poetic disputation between Job and his three friends.2 Then later the Elihu monologue was added, followed even later by the poem on wisdom in Job 28. There are variations on this basic theory, but the scholarly consensus is that the book of Job in its present form is the product of a lengthy history of composition.

While such historical reconstruction may be a true account of the book’s composition, it remains speculative, and more important, it does not in the final analysis affect the interpretive goal. Readers should primarily be interested in the final, canonical form of the biblical book. Even if a passage such as Elihu’s speech was added later, we must ask how it functions within the book as it is now.

So the focus of my study is the final form of the text, regardless of the process of composition. Although some interpreters may claim to be uncertain about what is the precise final form of the text, in my view the biblical text preserved in Codex Leningradensis is an adequate representation of the final form of the Hebrew Bible.

Author

If, with few exceptions, the OT books are the products of lengthy composition histories, then they have no single identifiable author. The book of Proverbs illustrates this point. Proverbs explicitly mentions more than one contributor to the final form of the book as we have it.3 The book begins: The proverbs of Solomon son of David, king of Israel (1:1). Although this might give the impression that Solomon wrote the entire book during his lifetime, other verses undermine this idea. First, two additional headings mention Solomon. The material in Prov. 10 is referred to as the proverbs of Solomon (10:1), which raises the possibility that Solomon is not the author of the content extending from 1:8 to 9:18. Then again at the opening of Prov. 25 we read: These are more proverbs of Solomon, compiled by the men of Hezekiah king of Judah (25:1). Although these proverbs are said to be Solomonic, they were compiled by the men of Hezekiah, a king of Judah who lived more than two hundred years after Solomon. This suggests that an earlier form of the book of Proverbs did not include chapters 25–29, which were added some two hundred years later.

Also intriguing is the reference to an anonymous group of sages simply labeled the wise in 22:17 (see also 24:23). In addition, at the very end of the book are enigmatic references to the sayings of Agur son of Jakeh (30:1) and the sayings of King Lemuel—an inspired utterance his mother taught him (31:1). Although such references within the book of Proverbs don’t allow us to develop a detailed chronology of the growth of the book of Proverbs, they do show that the book grew over time as wisdom sayings from multiple individuals were collected to form the book of Proverbs as we know it.

Who then is the author of the book of Proverbs? In one sense, there is no one author, since many authors were involved. But the author of the final form of the book is the anonymous person who took the writings of all the contributors and shaped the book into its final form.

Although these observations may seem to eviscerate the idea of authorial intention, I do not believe that this must be so. Because readers discern the author’s intention through the text itself, they don’t need to know the name of the (final) author or the time of the book’s final composition. They also don’t need to be able to trace the specific history of the book’s composition. Later I invoke the concept of the implied author to describe this final author/editor.4

There is an additional complication when speaking of the author of a biblical book. This complication arises only for those who, like myself, believe that the Bible is the Word of God. So far we have been talking about only the human authors of the biblical books. When people say that the Bible is the Word of God, they assert that God is its ultimate author. This observation raises the question of the relationship between the human authors and the divine author.5

Some scholars who believe that the Bible is the Word of God assert that there is no distance between the human author’s conscious understanding of the meaning of his words and the divine author’s intention. Others believe that the divine author’s meaning might be deeper (sensus plenior) than what the human authors could have known.

The latter view is supported by various considerations, beginning with the NT use of OT passages. The following two examples show that the NT authors applied some OT texts in ways the OT authors could never have anticipated. By doing so, the NT authors highlight a sense of the text that is deeper than the conscious awareness of the OT authors.

One of the best-known NT examples of the appropriation of an OT passage concerns the use of Isa. 7:14 in Matt. 1:23. The OT passage reads as follows: Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel (NRSVue). I cite the NRSVue here, rather than the NIV, because it is clear within the context that the relevant Hebrew word, ʿalmah, should be translated young woman. The NIV (and other evangelical translations) renders the word virgin, even though this is not the primary meaning of the word ʿalmah. If virgin were meant, there is a perfectly good Hebrew word that Isaiah could have used (i.e., betulah), and the OT context calls for the translation young woman. The context points to an event not in the far distant future (i.e., the birth of Jesus) but in the next few years of Isaiah’s life. Isaiah’s statement about this birth arises in response to King Ahab’s fear that the king of Syria, Rezin, and the king of Israel, Pekah, will attack him because of his refusal to support them against the threat of Assyria under Tiglath-pileser III.

The prophet urges the Judean king not to form foreign alliances but to depend on God. Isaiah is angry that Ahab does not want a prophetic sign to confirm the reliability of this message and gives one to him anyway in the form of a child born to a young woman. That this birth will be in the next few years is made obvious by Isaiah’s explanation, which immediately follows the announcement: He [the child born to the young woman] will be eating curds and honey when he knows enough to reject the wrong and choose the right, for before the boy knows enough to reject the wrong and choose the right, the land of the two kings you dread will be laid waste (7:15–16). In other words, the existential threat from Rezin and Pekah that Ahab fears will come to an end by the time the child reaches the age of ethical maturity.

A second example is Matthew’s use of Hosea 11:1. In Hosea 11, the prophet reports God as saying, When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. This statement clearly looks back to the historical exodus, because Hosea next describes how Israel responded by worshiping other gods and bringing God’s judgment on themselves, though God was unwilling to destroy them completely.

Matthew applies Hosea 11:1 to Jesus’s Egyptian sojourn. Warned by an angel about Herod’s decree to kill all the baby boys in the vicinity of Bethlehem, Joseph and Mary seek refuge in Egypt until God assures them that they are safe. They return only after Herod dies. After narrating this episode, Matthew concludes So was fulfilled what the Lord had said through the prophet and then cites Out of Egypt I called my son (Matt. 2:15).

My point here is not that Matthew has misappropriated these OT passages but only that their use cannot be accounted for by appealing to the conscious intention of these OT prophets. The prophets spoke better than they knew. After all, God is the ultimate author of Scripture, as Paul points out to Timothy in an oft-cited passage: All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work (2 Tim. 3:16–17). Peter also speaks to this point, saying, Above all, you must understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet’s own interpretation of things. For prophecy never had its origin in the human will, but prophets, though human, spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit (2 Pet. 1:20–21). If prophecy has its origin in God, the ultimate goal in reading Scripture is to hear the voice of God.

That does not mean that the NT use of the OT is arbitrary. Isaiah might have been (at least initially) surprised to see Matthew use Isa. 7:14 to refer to Mary’s pregnancy: All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet: ‘The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’ (which means ‘God with us’) (Matt. 1:22–23). But even though the future birth of Jesus to Mary, his virgin mother, was not in Isaiah’s conscious intention, there are indications even in the context of Isaiah that, like all prophecy, the future expectation of a child would be multiply fulfilled and that the fulfillment would expand and intensify.6

The original interaction between Isaiah and Ahaz took place around 735 BC. The child, who may have been a son of Isaiah or of Ahaz (Hezekiah), would have been around twelve when the Assyrians defeated Pekah and Rezin and laid waste to their lands (Isa. 7:16), thus providing the initial fulfillment of the prophecy. However, that Isaiah anticipates future fulfillments beyond this historical moment may be seen when Immanuel is mentioned again in the next chapter (Isa. 8:6–8):

Because this people has rejected

the gently flowing waters of Shiloah

and rejoices over Rezin

and the son of Remaliah,

Therefore the Lord is about to bring against them

the mighty floodwaters of the Euphrates—

the king of Assyria with all his pomp.

It will overflow all its channels,

run over all its banks

and sweep on into Judah, swirling over it,

passing through it and reaching up to the neck.

Its outspread wings will cover the breadth of your land, Immanuel!

Notice that the land of Judah is now called Immanuel’s land, perhaps moving the name in a royal, even messianic direction. The threat from Assyria here was realized in 701 BC, when the Assyrian king Sennacherib invaded Judah, taking many towns and threatening Jerusalem, though God kept Jerusalem from falling during the reign of Hezekiah. That the Assyrians would ultimately fail is the subject of the following lines:

Raise the war cry, you nations, and be shattered!

Listen, all you distant lands.

Prepare for battle, and be shattered!

Prepare for battle, and be shattered!

Devise your strategy, but it will be thwarted,

propose your plan, but it will not stand,

for God is with us. (Isa. 8:9–10)

As Cook points out, God is with us in the final line in Hebrew is "ʿImmanu ʾel."

Thus within Isaiah itself, readers can see an expansion of the prophecy from the child named Immanuel, born to a young woman, to a messianic/royal figure. Readers who detect the messianic expansion of Immanuel within Isaiah would not be totally surprised to see Matthew cite Isa. 7:14 in reference to Jesus’s birth (see also Luke 1:26–38). However, readers (and Isaiah, too, if he read Matthew’s use of the prophecy) might be initially surprised by the change from the Hebrew ʿalmah (young woman) to the Greek parthenos (virgin), but on reflection this expansion—or perhaps better, intensification—is a way of highlighting the special nature of this messiah in comparison to, say, King Hezekiah. But note that the Gospel writers are not the innovators here. The Septuagint translates Isa. 7:14 using the Greek word for virgin (parthenos); the translators may have been influenced in their choice of the term by a perception that Immanuel was no ordinary child (see Isa. 8:10).7

Hosea