The Christian View of the Old Testament

In Short

This book addresses the crisis of confidence faced by early 1900s Christians concerning the Old Testament. By evaluating the impact of modern scientific discoveries, archaeology, and historical criticism, the author argues that these fields do not dismantle the Bible’s authority but rather clarify its purpose. He contends that the Old Testament is a religious—not scientific—text, documenting a gradual spiritual development. It remains a foundational, permanent resource for the modern believer, provided it is read with a sophisticated understanding of its historical context and human authorship.

The Story

The narrative of this volume is one of intellectual reconciliation. It opens by acknowledging a pervasive "feeling of uncertainty" among believers who find their traditional understanding of Scripture challenged by modern inquiry. The author establishes that the early Christian Church relied on the Old Testament, but he admits that some passages contain "incompleteness and imperfection." He cites examples, such as the account of David’s census in 2 Samuel, where the text attributes divine actions to God that seem incompatible with the character of a loving deity. Rather than dismissing these accounts, he suggests they reflect the "relatively low conception of the character of Jehovah" held by ancient authors who were not yet capable of perceiving God’s fullness.

From this opening, the argument progresses through various domains of challenge. It addresses the tension between the Genesis creation narratives and geology, asserting that the Bible makes no claim to be a scientific treatise. The author argues that God did not provide modern scientific facts to ancient people because doing so would have "robbed him of his personality" and stultified human intellectual growth. He frames the Bible instead as a book of religion, intended to guide souls toward salvation.

The argument then moves into the realm of higher criticism. Here, the author acknowledges the consensus that the Pentateuch is a composite work of multiple sources rather than a single document written by Moses. He reviews the work of scholars who have reassessed the authorship of the Psalms and the prophetic books. Far from viewing this as a loss of faith, he portrays it as a maturation of understanding. He emphasizes that critical study helps determine the "stages through which [revelation] passed" without damaging its divine substance.

The middle sections pivot to the external evidence provided by archaeology. The author details the discovery of the Moabite Stone, the Amarna tablets, and the Assyrian inscriptions—such as those documenting the siege of Jerusalem—which provide historical context for the biblical record. While these findings sometimes complicate traditional narratives, he argues they provide a clearer picture of the ancient Near Eastern world. He concludes by examining the religion of Israel in comparison to its neighbors, noting that while Israel shared cultural symbols and legal motifs with Babylonia, the Hebrew religion possessed a unique ethical character. The book concludes by insisting that a "solution of faith" is the only answer to life’s deepest enigmas. Just as Job found contentment by trusting a God whose ways he could not comprehend, the modern reader is encouraged to look past the "apparent inequalities" of life and the limitations of the intellect to find enduring wisdom in the Old Testament.

How It Unfolds

The New Testament Foundation The author establishes that the early Church adopted the Old Testament as its own, setting the stage for his argument that it is a legitimate, if sometimes imperfect, witness to divine revelation. He posits that religious understanding was not revealed in a flash but evolved over generations.

The Scientific Boundary This beat addresses the friction between biblical creation accounts and nineteenth-century geology. The author argues that scripture is not meant to be an instruction manual for physical science and that expecting it to be one is a fundamental error.

The Critical Method The text explains the necessity of both textual and historical criticism in navigating the differences between books like Kings and Chronicles. It accepts that tradition has often misattributed authorship, such as the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch, but claims this does not negate the text's inspiration.

The Archaeological Evidence The author surveys the "treasures" unearthed in the Near East, from the Moabite Stone to Babylonian tablets. He shows how these physical discoveries anchor the Bible in a real historical setting, proving that it is not a work of pure fiction.

The Permanent Significance The final section calls for a return to the Old Testament as a devotional resource. By viewing the text through the lens of progressive revelation, the reader is encouraged to find "nourishment" in its pages, much like the early disciples.

The People

The book focuses on several key figures to illustrate its points:

• David is treated as a historical figure who "loses some of his halo" when scholars question the attribution of many Psalms to him. Yet, the author defends him as a man of profound fidelity whose life was dedicated to representing Jehovah’s will as he understood it.
• Job serves as the primary example of the human struggle with suffering. He represents the ideal believer who does not reach an intellectual solution to his pain but finds peace through a direct, humble encounter with God.
• The Prophets are described as individuals whose hearts and minds were "illuminated" by God, but who remained products of their own historical and cultural limitations.
• Hezekiah appears through the lens of external, non-biblical records—specifically the inscriptions of the Assyrian king Sennacherib—which provide a harsh, external verification of a pivotal moment in Judah's history.
• The Critics—such as W.H. Green, Canon Driver, and A.B. Davidson—are the scholarly foils. The author engages with their work to demonstrate that even conservative and critical scholars can agree that the "substance of the divine revelation" remains intact regardless of historical scrutiny.

In Its Own Voice

Can any Christian believe that our God who is infinitely pure and holy ever did persuade anyone to tell a lie?

The author challenges the reader to grapple with ancient depictions of God that seem to contradict the moral character of the divine.

God's other gifts to men, of learning, perseverance, calculation, and the like, have been and are a true source of revelation.

He argues that scientific inquiry is a divinely granted tool for understanding the world, and thus not an enemy of faith.

Job's questions remain unanswered, but now that he knows God, he is content to let them remain unanswered.

The author identifies the resolution of the book of Job not as a logical argument, but as an act of relational trust.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the necessity of distinguishing between the "form" and the "substance" of divine revelation. The author argues that because the Bible was written by humans in a pre-scientific age, its form—its descriptions of creation, history, and the nature of God—is necessarily marked by the limitations of the writers' knowledge. The substance, however, is the record of an unfolding, authoritative relationship between God and humanity. The book fundamentally asks how a modern person can maintain traditional faith in an era of critical inquiry. Its answer is that religion belongs to the realm of the spirit, not the intellect, and that the Old Testament is a vital document of the human experience of the divine.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy intellectual history or are interested in the evolution of religious thought will find this book a fascinating window into the early twentieth-century mind. It offers a calm, reasoned perspective on the "conflict between faith and reason" that remains relevant today. The prose is earnest and academic, reflecting the scholarly tone of the 1910s, which provides both its charm and its density.

Those who read it will find a deep, underlying warmth in the author’s tone—he is not trying to "win" a debate, but to help a fellow believer navigate a changing world. However, the modern reader should be prepared for the limitations of its time. The author’s view of "primitive" versus "civilized" societies, common in 1912, will be apparent to a modern eye. Additionally, the frequent citations of now-obscure contemporary scholars might feel dated. Despite this, the book’s core argument—that intellectual rigor and religious devotion need not be mutually exclusive—is a timeless plea. It encourages the reader to let go of brittle, literalist expectations and instead embrace a faith that can withstand the "merciless" tests of history and science. It is a thoughtful, steadying read for anyone looking to reconcile a modern world-view with an ancient text.