Category Archives: Old Testament

Review of Walton The Lost World of the Prophets

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John H. Walton, The Lost World of the Prophets: Old Testament Prophecy and Apocalyptic Literature in Ancient Context (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic Press, 2025)

Walton’s goal in this book is to demonstrate the most accurate reading, interpretation, and application of the Old Testament Prophets to his ideal reader, which appears to be a modern Western, American evangelical Christian. He accomplishes this aim by helping this reader to (re)discover the “lost world” of the Prophets and their ancient Near Eastern context, which will ensure a reading that is faithful to their original intentions and avoids misunderstanding their messages. 

Walton arranges his book with an introduction, five parts with sixteen chapters in the form of propositions, a conclusion, a section with books for further reading, and two indices: a general index and a Scriptural index. 

In the introduction, Walton lays out this work’s aforementioned goal (which is similar to all the books in his Lost World series), to provide a fresh reading of the Old Testament Prophets informed by the cultural context or the “cultural river” of the ancient Near Eastern world, which is based on “the principle that the Bible is written for us but not to us” (2). In the process, he hopes to guard against the misinterpretation of the Prophets that have plagued American evangelical Christianity, especially since the rise of dispensational premillennialism.

Part 1 (“Ancient Near East”) contains two propositions that focus on the ancient Near Eastern context of prophecy in the Old Testament. The first proposition (“Prophecy Is a Subset of Divination,” 13–19) makes the case that prophecy is a form of ancient Near Eastern divination or the “means by which humans believed they could receive messages or direction from the gods” (13). The reason that divination was important in the ancient Near East is that its inhabitants “felt it was imperative to know what the gods were thinking and doing” and they believed that the “gods communicated with humans through a wide variety of mechanisms” (14). 

In the second proposition (“Prophets and Prophecy in the Ancient Near East Manifest Similarities and Differences When Compared to Israel,” 20–32), Walton probes the similarities and dissimilarities between ancient Near Eastern and Biblical prophecy. On the one hand, broadly speaking Biblical prophecy shares with ancient Near Eastern prophecy the notion that God/gods communicate with humans, that they chose special messengers (i.e., prophets) to disclose their actions, and these messages took a similar form: “thus says [the name of the deity] . . .” In short, Israel and other ancient Near Eastern cultures “agreed . . . that the exercise of prophetic speech did not serve to tell the future but indicated how the gods were thinking and what they were doing” (27). On the other hand, Biblical Prophets differed from their ancient Near Eastern counterparts in the length and sophistication of the written divinely received messages, that the latter rarely rebuked monarchs (however, Biblical Prophets often did), that the Biblical Prophets addressed their messages to the masses not just to kings (as in most other ancient Near Eastern cultures), and, most obvious, God’s covenant with Israel undergirded the entire message of the Biblical Prophets, which was not the case with other ancient Near Eastern prophets: “it is primarily the existence of the covenant that makes Israelite prophecy different from its counterparts in the ancient world” (emphasis his, 31). 

Part 2 (“Institution”) consists of four propositions, the first of which is proposition three (“A Prophet Is a Spokesperson for God, Not a Predictor of the Future,” 35–44). In this chapter, Walton demonstrates that contrary to the popular view of prophets as foretellers they were spokesmen for God revealing his plan and purpose for his people: “I contend that we make a serious mistake when we think of prophecy as prediction. This is true, first, because prophecy does not just deal with the future. Instead, analysis shows that prophets offered God’s messages concerning the past and the present as much or more than they spoke about the future. Second, they were engaged not in telling the future but in revealing God’s plans and purposes (offering a viewpoint that at times extended into the future) . . . nothing that God says could legitimately be labeled as prediction because God is always involved in causation . . . God decrees the course of history; he does not predict the future” (emphasis his, 35–36). The fourth proposition (“Prophecy in the Old Testament is Not Monolithic but Developing,” 45–50) traces prophecy in four distinct phases in Israel’s history: preclassical Prophets (e.g. Samuel, Elijah, Elisha, etc.), preexilic classical Prophets (Amos, Hosea, Isaiah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel), postexilic classical Prophets (Haggai, Zechariah, Joel, Obadiah, and Malachi), and the apocalyptic Prophet, Daniel. Walton observes that the preclassical Prophets resemble other ancient Near Eastern prophets in that their main audience was the king. However, the preexilic classical Prophets differed from their precursors in that they addressed everyone. The message of both types of Prophets focused on covenant faithfulness: “the critique of kings in the preclassical period broadened into the critique of the people in the classical period” (47). The classical Prophets’ message was overall one of rebuke and a calling of Israel and Judah to return to God and his covenant, for only 20% of prophetic material is positive and focuses on the future restoration of Israel and Judah. For this reason, Walton proposes “that the primary function of the classical prophets was to rebuke the people, not to announce the future” (48). 

In the fifth proposition (“The Classical Prophets Are Champions of the Covenant in Times of Crisis,” 51–58), Walton explores further the message of the classical Prophets, concluding that God raised them up to deliver messages to his people in light of current events of their day. This means that it is difficult for us to extend their messages to contexts that they did not address. The sixth proposition (“Prophecy Takes a Variety of Different Shapes After the Old Testament,” 59–65) examines how, contrary to the belief of some, prophecy continued beyond the lives of the last canonical Old Testament Prophets. 

Part 3 of The Lost World (“Literature”) contains three propositions that focus on the Old Testament prophetic works. In proposition seven (“Recognition of the Categories of Prophetic Message Help Us to Be More Informed Readers,” 69–73), Walton delves into the four categories of prophetic messages in the Old Testament: indictment, judgment, instruction, and aftermath. The eighth proposition (“Prophets Were Typically Not Authors,” 74–79) investigates the relationship of the Prophets to the Old Testament works that bear their name. Walton begins by setting forth an eightfold process of composition for these books: 1. the prophetic event occurs, 2. the message is delivered to the intended audience, 3. the message is transcribed, 4. messages are then compiled, 5. these compiled messages are set into a narrative framework, 6. the combined messages and narratives produces what we would call a book, 7. the prophet’s name is placed at the beginning of the work, and 8. the book becomes part of the canon. If this process is correct, then the prophets themselves are not technically the composers of the works that bear their names. Instead, it seems probable that other persons who witnessed the fulfillment of their prophecies of judgment and saw the potential for the fulfillment of their prophecies of restoration or aftermath gathered their messages and compiled them. 

In the ninth proposition (“The Implied Audience of the Prophetic Books Is Not Necessarily the Audience of the Prophet,” 80–86), Walton questions whether the implied audience—or the audience for whom the author intended his work—of a prophetic work is the same audience of the Prophet and concludes that it may not be. He contends that the Prophets did not have “insider knowledge about when or how fulfillment might take place: first, because fulfillment can happen more than once, and second, fulfillment often takes oblique turns” (85, he will return to this notion in proposition eleven). Consequently, Walton proposes three categories for thinking about the implied audience of a prophetic book: 1. the audience to whom the Prophet originally spoke and directed his messages, 2. the implied audience to whom a prophetic book is directed, and 3. the Prophet’s message is received by the audience among whom it is fulfilled. “This means that when we seek to interpret the prophets, we would do best to distinguish these varying levels. We first explore the meaning of the prophetic oracles in their own time as best we can (text in context). If the interpreter concludes that there have been stages of accumulation (such as some believe about layers of Isaiah or Daniel), the significance of each layer should be analyzed. The next step is to consider what we know of the final compilation of the book (sadly, often very little) to consider whether those who have committed the collected oracles to writing have adapted its message in some way to their name. Finally, we can consider how the book or the messages it comprises has been interpreted as having been fulfilled by various interpreters in their times” (86). 

Part 4 (“Methodological and Interpretive Issues”) contains four propositions, the first of which, “Distinction Between Message and Fulfillment Provides Clear Understanding of Prophetic Literature,” 89–101), emphasizes that to interpret the Prophets properly we should give equal attention to the message a Prophet received from God that he delivered to the original audience and the fulfillment of that prophecy “that brings additional meaning to the original prophetic message” (90). The idea of fulfillment includes the New Testament writers’ use of the Prophets whose messages they adapted and repackaged to their own contexts: “The prophets expected their prophetic oracles to be fulfilled, but they did not have revelation concerning what that fulfillment might look like. Since they were delivering a word from God, the possibilities were manifold and could take unexpected turns” (90). Concerning the New Testament writers use of the Prophets, Walton concludes that “Old Testament texts invite Christotelic repackaging; they do not demand reinterpretation of the Old Testament as being about Christ” (emphasis his, 101). 

Proposition eleven (“Fulfillment Follows Oblique Trajectories,” 102–7) catalogues four ways that Old Testament prophecy can have oblique trajectories: 1. “When people change their course, projected fulfillment can be forestalled or eliminated” (emphasis his, 102), 2. “Fulfillment can occur multiple times,” 3. “Fulfillment may be altered,” and 4. “Fulfillment may not look like what would have been anticipated” (emphasis his, 103). In the twelfth proposition (“The New Testament Use of Old Testament Prophecy Focuses on Fulfillment, Not Message,” 108–15), Walton examines the New Testament writers’ use of Old Testament prophecy, concluding that the former were “much more interested in revealing fulfillment than in a text-in-context interpretation of the Old Testament prophets,” like Walton desires the reader to adopt. Nevertheless, “This does not subordinate the fulfillment, nor does it undervalue the contributions of the New Testament. This in turn can caution us about pronouncing how prophecies have been or might be fulfilled when we have no New Testament precedent for such identifications of fulfillment” (115). Proposition thirteen (“Prophecy Carries Important Implications for Understanding God and the Future, but Our Ability to Forge a Detailed Eschatology with Confidence is Limited,” 116–23) explores the eschatology of the Prophets and Walton proposes that while we cannot develop a detailed eschatology and timeline from them, they inform us that in light of the ideal covenant hope of the Prophets and transcendent hope in the New Testament expressed through the adaption of the former, the future is in God’s hands: “The focus of our eschatology is therefore easy enough: God’s kingdom will come, and it will feature Jesus, the risen Savior and the reigning king—Immanuel and Messiah” (120). 

Part 5 (“Apocalyptic”) contains three propositions, the first of which, proposition fourteen (“Apocalyptic Should Be Differentiated from Classical Prophecy,” 127–34) demonstrates the differences between classical prophecy and apocalyptic prophecy with an amazing table (I love tables and charts, FYI). For example, classical prophecy focused on direct divine revelation, “Thus says the Lord.” However, apocalyptic focused on the mediation of revelation through a vision or angel. In the end, Walton hypothesizes that apocalyptic, like all prophecy, “does not have the purpose of foretelling the future. Instead, it reveals how God’s plans and purposes begun in the past will find future completion” (134). In proposition fifteen (“In Apocalyptic Literature, Visions Are Not the Message but the Occasion for the Message,” 135–47), Walton suggests that apocalyptic literature contains exotic symbolism, which to interpret properly one must ask what the symbol is, what does it stand for, and what is its cultural significance? When this occurs, it becomes clear that “apocalyptic literature cannot and should not be used as a foundation for constructing eschatological systems, timelines, and predictions” (142). The last and final proposition, proposition sixteen (“New Testament Apocalyptic Operates by the Same Principles as Old Testament Apocalyptic,” 148–57), argues that instead of trying to develop an eschatology timeline and system from the New Testament, “we should focus on hope and faith. Though no one knows the time, we are to live in expectation of the soon return of Christ” (148). 

In The Lost World’s final chapter (“Concluding Thoughts: A Reading Strategy,” 159–73), Walton explores how we should read Old Testament prophetic and apocalyptic texts by rearticulating his argument: we should read them through faith and with the knowledge that God is working out his plan for history. This theocentric reading of Scripture differs radically from the self-focused way that pervades evangelical Christianity: “instead of each singular piece of Scripture being viewed as a personalized message to my life and circumstances, each of those pieces has a contribution to make to my understanding of the plans and purposes of God” (160). In the end, Walton notes that the Old Testament Prophets testify to God’s plan and the fulfillment of that plan is God’s business. 

This work is well researched, well argued, well written, thoughtful, and above all pastorally minded. While not an evangelical myself, it seems to me that Walton has achieved his goal of helping Christians, in particular American evangelical Christians, to read Scripture more responsibly and he does an excellent job demonstrating the need and benefit of reading the Old Testament Prophets in their ancient Near Eastern context: Bravo! I encourage everyone interested in Old Testament prophecy, apocalypses, and the New Testament writers’ use of the Old Testament Prophets to pick up a copy! You can do so directly through IVP Academic Press! 

I am grateful to IVP Academic Press for providing me with a gratis review copy that in no way influenced my work. 

Review of Buster and Walton Daniel Chapters 1-6

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Aubrey E. Buster and John H. Walton, The Book of Daniel Chapters 1–6, NICOT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2025)

This work, which is the first of two, covers Buster’s and Walton’s introduction to Daniel and their comments on Daniel 1–6. Later this year, Eerdmans will release the second part, which covers their comments on Daniel 7–12.

Daniel Chapters 1–6 contains a lengthy introduction to Daniel (1–162), comments on Daniel 1:1–6:28 (163–774), an index of authors (775–88), an index of subjects (789–806), and an index of ancient sources, including the Bible (807–35).

The introduction is divided into thirteen sections with some initial introductory comments. In the latter, Buster and Walton inform the reader of their twofold framework for interpreting Daniel: their commitment to Scripture’s authority and the historical-critical method. Therefore, they conclude, “the strongest interpretation [of Daniel] is not the one that is most bound to tradition (whether ancient or modern), but the one that accounts for the most evidence in the strongest way possible” (2).  

Buster and Walton begin by discussing the text of Daniel (“The Text of Daniel,” 3–21) in its various witnesses—the Masoretic text (the Leningrad Codex), the Greek Old Testament versions (the Old Greek and Theodotion), and evidence from the Dead Sea Scrolls—as well as the languages in which Daniel was composed (Hebrew in Daniel 1:1–2:4a; 8:1–12:13 and Aramaic in Daniel 2:4b–7:28) and other languages that influenced its composition, Akkadian, Persian, Greek, and Egyptian (3–21).

In the introduction’s second section (“Additions to Daniel,” 21–24), Buster and Walton address three additions to the Hebrew/Aramaic text found in the Old Greek and Theodotion textual traditions: the prayer of Azariah and Song of the Three Jews, the story of Susanna, and the story of Bel and the Dragon. 

The third section (“Composition of Daniel,” 25–47) examines how Daniel was composed. Buster and Walton note that external evidence from the Dead Sea Scrolls (4QDanc) and 1 Maccabees (1:61) evince that the work was completed by the end of the second century BC. From internal evidence, they propose that Daniel was composed gradually over a process of many years, beginning in the sixth century BC with the court tales (Daniel 1–6) and continuing through the Persian and Hellenistic periods (Daniel 7–12). Therefore, they offer the following model of composition: 

  • Daniel, a historical personage, is exiled to Babylon where he served in the Neo-Babylonian and Persian governments.
  • Stories of his exploits and achievements began to be told among Jews (Daniel 1–6), thereby retaining authentic details of the time and place in which they occurred.
  • In the retelling of these stories, story tellers reshaped them.
  • Next, Daniel 7 was composed in Aramaic in the late fourth-to-early third century BC. 
  • Because Daniel 2:4b–7:28 is a coherent literary unit with the same language (Aramaic) and material (the four-kingdom scheme in Daniel 2 and 7, the miraculous deliverances in Daniel 3–6, and the critique of kings in Daniel 4–5), a version of Daniel with chapters 1–7 may have circulated at this time.
  • Daniel 8–12 was composed in Hebrew during Antiochus IV Epiphanes’s reign.
  • Finally, Daniel 7–12 was placed in Daniel’s mouth (45–46).

To this end, Buster and Walton conclude, “The book of Daniel is a result of a process that began in the Neo-Babylonian period among the Babylonian diaspora and that continued over four hundred years as storytellers, scribal scholars, and the ‘wise’ . . . reflected on and developed their understanding of exile and Israel’s future in light of the prophets” (47). 

Because of their view on the authorship of Daniel, at length they discuss pseudonymity and pseudepigraphy—essentially a writing attributed (falsely by modern standards) to an ancient personage—in the ancient Near East and the Hellenistic world and devote several pages to placing these phenomena in their ancient contexts. They propose that by ancient standards “we must acknowledge the possibility that the attribution to Daniel is not a claim of authorial identification but of rhetorical attribution. If this is the case, the attribution to Daniel functions similarly to the attribution of other vision texts to well-known past figures in contemporary Jewish literature: to highlight the divine source of revelation, to construct analogies between past and present crises in Israel’s communal life, to connect later texts to already existing traditions, and to reinvigorate past texts in a program of progressive revelation” (emphasis theirs, 55).

In the fourth section (“History of the Implied Setting of the Book: The Sixth Century BCE,” 55–70), Buster and Walton describe the history of the ancient Near East as it relates to the Babylonian backdrop of the book, the court tales, and examine some historical difficulties that one encounters such as the dating of the reigns of Jehoiakim and Nebuchadnezzar.  Daniel says that Nebuchadnezzar besieged Jerusalem “in the third year of the kingdom of Jehoiakim, king of Judah” (Daniel 1:1), but Jeremiah relates that Nebuchadnezzar came to power in Babylon during “the fourth year of Jehoiakim, son of Josiah, king of Judah” (Jeremiah 25:1). Concerning this issue, Buster and Walton conclude, “it might be better to consider the statement of Dan 1:1 as using conflation or, more specifically, [the ancient Near Eastern literary device of] telescoping,” which means that the verse refers to two separate events that have been conflated (62–63). 

The fifth section (“History of the Implied Audience,” 70–84) describes the history of Palestine from the beginning of the Hellenistic period to the mid-second century BC, the period the implied audience of Daniel 7–12 covers: “Regardless of one’s conclusion regarding composition, however, the implied audience of the visions is situated in the Hellenistic period” (71). Therefore, this part examines the rise of Alexander the Great, the division of his kingdom among his generals, the Seleucid rule of Palestine, the rise of Antiochus IV Epiphanes, and the program of the Hellenization of Judaism by some prominent mid-second century BC Jews in Jerusalem. 

In the sixth and seventh sections (“Issues of the Cultural Background,” 84–92; “Hellenistic Polytheism, Religious Assimilation, and Tolerance,” 92–102), Buster and Walton discuss various cultural aspects, in particular what we would call religion, that were operative in the time periods that encompass Daniel’s background: Assyrio-Babylonian paganism, Zoroastrianism, Persian Zoroastrian dualism, Persian religious policy, Hellenistic paganism, its (in)tolerance of other cultic systems, Greek civic religion, and divine honors for humans.

The eighth part (“Genre of Daniel,” 102–32) explores the classification of Daniel (he is not a prophet, but a seer), the literary genre of the court tales, and Daniel as an apocalyptic work. In the latter section of this part, Buster and Walton delve into the genre of apocalyptic, its various backgrounds, its use in the Old Testament, how apocalyptic works differ from prophetic works, and some aspects of apocalyptic. 

In the ninth portion (“Historical Accuracy and the Book of Daniel,” 132–47), Buster and Walton discuss the ways in which Daniel accurately reflects the historical reality over the years in which it was composed: “The [authors of the work] are not fabricating events or people, but they are engaged in selecting, shaping, and focusing the narrative using the rhetorical devices available to them as common in the genre and time that they are writing” (132).  Consequently, one has to understand that Daniel telescopes—or compresses events on a timeline—events, rhetorically attributes words to the historical sixth century BC man Daniel, recontextualizes early material to address later events (such as the recontextualization of the four kingdom scheme in Daniel 2 in Daniel 7), conflates and thus attributes actions that one historical figure accomplishes to another, and describes past events through the prism of a future foretelling of them (vacticinium ex eventu). 

The tenth part (“Structure of the Book,” 148–54) describes the overall structure of Daniel—which places chapter 7 at the pivotal point—and is unified by the figure of Daniel and his friends. In the eleventh portion (“Intertextuality in Daniel,” 154–58), Buster and Walton note that Daniel refers implicitly and explicitly to other parts of Sacred Scripture by adopting the genre of court tales such as found in the story of Joseph in Egypt (Genesis 39–50), by allusions to Ezekiel and God’s heavenly throne, and by referencing other Old Testament books: Jeremiah 25; 29 in Daniel 9. The twelfth part (“Canonicity,” 158–59) probes the place of Daniel in the canon. Buster and Walton point out that portions of all twelve chapters are present among the Dead Sea Scrolls and that the work appears to have been deemed “trustworthy and authoritative” by the mid-second century BC. Therefore, “as long as there has been a canon, it appears that Daniel has been in it” (159). The real question, however, is not whether the work is canonical, but which one is canonical, as the Roman Catholic and Orthodox canons follow the Greek versions containing extra stories not found in the Hebrew/Aramaic text of Daniel, the version that Jews and Protestants have canonized. In the final section (“Theology,” 159–62), Buster and Walton explore some theological aspects of Daniel such as God’s presence with his people even as they are scattered among the Gentiles and his presence and activity throughout Israel’s history, which will culminate in establishment of God’s kingdom in the future.  

The rest of this volume contains a detailed, nuanced, contextualized, philological, and comprehensive engagement with the text(s) of Daniel. Buster and Walton pepper their work with excurses that allow the reader to go deeper into various aspects that are tangential, yet important, to the overall message of Daniel. For me, the great strengths of this volume are its interaction with primary ancient Near Eastern and Classical sources as well as the gamut of scholarship on Daniel, from those who hold to a sixth century BC dating of the book to those who place its composition in the mid-second century BC.

In short, this is a book that any exegete of Daniel, even one who not agree with their conclusions about authorship and composition as well as their exegesis of the text, will want in his or her library. Therefore, I highly recommend you picking up your own copy from Eerdmans forthwith. 

I am grateful to Eerdmans for the gratis copy of this work, which in no way affected my review of it.