Brevard Childs died on Saturday, 23 June 2007, in New Haven. He sustained injuries from a bad fall in a few days earlier from which he was unable to recover. Born 2 September 1923, he was 83 years old.

The following is excerpted from a brief biography by Gerald Sheppard.1 The correction in the first line is courtesy of C. R. Seitz.

Childs grew up in Southern Presbyterian churches [sic]2 and studied at the University of Michigan (A.B. and M.A.). After serving in the army in Europe during World War II, he earned his B.D. at Princeton Theological Seminary before pursuing a doctorate at the University of Basel, Switzerland. At Basel Childs studied Old Testament with Walther Eichrodt, among others. In addition to his studies in Basel, he took advantage of Near Eastern scholarship at Heidelberg University.

In Basel Childs met his wife, Ann, who had attended some of Karl Barth’s lectures with him. This was an exciting period for theological study. Besides the vigorous table talk among the visiting and local students, inexpensively published journals of essays and debates between theologians, biblical scholars and historians further stimulated the intellectual atmosphere.

At the University of Basel Childs completed his dissertation on the problem of myth in the opening chapters of Genesis just at the the time when Walter Baumgartner replaced Eichrodt as the senior Old Testament scholar. Creating consternation at the time, Baumgartner informally refused to accept the methodology of Childs’s dissertation, so Childs had to change his plans in order to undertake a full revision, now informed by a new grasp of form-critical analysis. That obligation helps explain why Childs became one of the leading tradition historians in North America. The revised dissertation, Der Mythos als theologische Problem im Alten Testaments (1953), was never published, though Childs circulated major portions of it under the title A Study of Myth in Genesis 1–11 (1955) among his wide network of English-speaking scholarly friends.

In 1954 Childs began teaching Old Testament at Mission House Seminary and in 1958 accepted a teaching position at Yale Divinity School…

Childs was the Sterling Professor of Divinity at Yale University, where he remained an emeritus professor for the duration of his life.

I met Childs breifly at his house in Cambridge last spring. He and Ann spoke fondly of their student days in Europe in the early 1950s, and Childs remembered in story his many “unforgettable teachers,” including von Rad, Zimmerli, Cullmann, Bornkamm and Barth. (Compare the prefaces to Myth, Memory, Exodus, and especially to IOTS,NTCI, OTTCC and BTONT.) Due in part to this training, he was able to bridge the gap between German and Anglo-Saxon scholarship as few ever have. His passing is marked with sadness not least because he was one of the last Old Testament specialists to control the entire field, Old and New. His readers frequently note how very much more he read than the rest of us.

Childs’ work is among the most misplaced of any biblical scholar since Hermann Gunkel, except that in Gunkel’s case the methods associated with him (Gunkel did not exactly approve of “form criticism”), at first controversial, soon won almost unanimous support. Childs wrote at a time when a broad consensus had ceased to be a possibility.

Childs spent a lifetime confronting the dissolution he experienced. As he explains in the preface to his landmark Introduction to the Old Testament at Scripture (1979),

Twenty-five years ago, when I returned home from four years of graduate study in Europe, the area within the field of the OT which held the least attraction for me was Introduction. I supposed that most of the major problems had already been resolved by the giants of the past. Even allowing for the inevitable process of refinement and modification, could one really expect anything new in this area? I was content to leave the drudgery of writing an Introduction to someone else with moreSitzfleisch.

Two decades of teaching have brought many changes in my perspective. Having experienced the demise of the Biblical Theology movement in America, the dissolution of the broad European consensus in which I was trained, and a widespread confusion regarding theological reflection in general, I began to realize that there was something fundamentally wrong with the foundations of the biblical discipline. It was not a question of improving on a source analysis, of discovering some unrecognized new genre, or of bringing a redactional layer into shaper focus. Rather, the crucial issue turned on one’s whole concept of the study of the Bible itself. I am now convinced that the relation between the historical critical study of the Bible and its theological use as religious literature within a community of faith and practice needs to be completely rethought. Minor adjustments are not only inadequate, but also conceal the extent of the dry rot.

Major controversy followed the publication of IOTS in 1979. Few were won over to the new approach, and a handful (some very prominent) insisted that an allegedly incoherent method stood in need of reconstruction. On the other hand, at a Yale lecture in the early 1980s, Rolf Rendtorff asked Childs to translate for the audience his reaction to IOTS: Es war als fielen mir die Schuppen von den Augen.

This anecdote is related by Christopher Seitz, who prominently among Childs’ students has defended the sanity of the canonical approach (for the Rendtorff story see Seitz’s essay in Canon and Biblical Interpretation, p84). Much like Gunkel’s reception at an earlier time, however, it proved easier to assume that the challenge to the reigning order signaled more chaos than creation. As Machiavelli once wrote, “the innovator has for enemies all those who have done well under the old conditions.”

Seitz is close to the mark, I think, when he writes of a later book (1992): “Childs’sBiblical Theology may prove to be a book in search of an audience, and for that reason it will be judged by the widest variety of readers as learned but unsatisfactory and by an even smaller audience as the most brilliant proposal for theological exegesis offered in recent memory, but one unlikely to gain the sort of foothold necessary to transform the church in its use of scripture.”

It is still much to early to assess the significance of Childs’ long and productive career. I know a few who place themselves in the second, smaller group—some who have passed through St Andrews in recent years. I myself came to the controversy late, and I maintain hope that many more in my generation will avail themselves of the immense learning and insight on offer in Childs’ work. Like me, more may come to wonder about the contents of the book (on the NT again!) Childs never had the time to complete, or failing that, to recognize the complexity and enormity of the task he undertook as a Christian exegete.

The funeral service will be held this coming Saturday, with and family and close friends in attendance.

At this time our thoughts and prayers are with Ann, the family, their close friends. Brevard Childs is lamented for the acumen and memory that passes with him. His personal warmth, gentleness, and charity make the loss sadder still. May his memory be for a blessing.

  1. Gerald Sheppard, “Childs, Brevard (B. 1923),” in Historical Handbook of Major Biblical Interpreters (ed. Donald K. McKim; Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1998), 575-584. 

  2. He was baptised Episcopalian in Columbia SC. It was only when he moved north to Queens (a consequence of his father’s ill health) that the family attended the Presbyterian Church. He and Ann attended an anglican church in Cambridge.