The recognition that certain passages in Genesis demonstrate influences stemming from Deuteronomy and its related literature is one of the long-standing conclusions of pentateuchal criticism. Megan Warner, in her stimulating recent study, based on her doctoral dissertation, reexamines this notion in relation to four passages that have traditionally been most closely associated with a process of Deuteronom(ist)ic editing. Throughout her study Warner borrows the term “Deuteronom(ist)ic” from Hans Ausloos's recent monograph The Deuteronomist's History (Leiden: Brill, 2015) and uses it as a “means of signifying relatedness to Deuteronomy or other material within the Deuteronomistic Canon” (2n5). The passages examined are: Genesis 15; 18:17–19; 22:15–18; and 26:3–5.

Warner's central suggestion is that these four passages employ Deuteronom(ist)ic language not because they originate with a Deuteronom(ist)ic redactor, but because they seek to review, or even correct, elements of Deuteronom(ist)ic ideology. The study follows a careful and coherent pattern. In chapter 1, Warner offers a survey of the history of Deuteronom(ist)ic redaction in Genesis and raises certain methodological concerns pertinent to her study. In chapters 2–5 Warner examines each of the passages (she refers to these as “focus texts”) in their wider context (labelled “host texts”). One of the great strengths of Warner's study is that it seeks to grasp the compositional logic of the redactional work being examined. By engaging instances of redaction within their narrative contexts Warner offers thorough and careful readings of these key chapters (Genesis 15; 18; 22; 26) as they stand, while using the logic of their final form to shed light on how the constitutive parts of the text function. Finally, in chapter 6, Warner offers a summary of her findings, suggesting that the passages in question are not to be ascribed to Deuteronom(ist)ic redaction. Instead, they fit better within the scope of the Holiness (H) legislators (who many scholars argue penned Leviticus 17–27), and are thus to be dated later than more traditional Deuteronom(ist)ic material; as such, they can be expected to challenge certain Deuteronom(ist)ic notions.

The only potential idiosyncrasy in Warner's arrangement is the reversing of the passages’ order. The latest passage, literarily speaking, Genesis 26:3–5, is discussed first in chapter 2, and the rest of the book follows this reverse structure. There is good reason for this move; as Warner rightly points out, Genesis 26:3–5 is the passage that is most apparently Deuteronom(ist)ic. In this sense it provides an ideal initial test case for her study. Rather than examining each chapter in detail, I offer a few further reflections on Warner's discussion of Genesis 26:3–5, which may be taken as broadly indicative for Warner's wider argument.

In chapter 2 Warner argues that Deuteronom(ist)ic concerns are revised in Genesis 26 in two ways. First, Genesis 26 presents Isaac inhabiting the land alongside Philistine contemporaries in an ultimately, if not initially, harmonious manner. The positioning of the land oath in Genesis 26:3, which resonates with Deuteronom(ist)ic language and concerns, potentially presents Isaac's possession of the land in a manner at odds with Deuteronomy's land-conquest ideology. Second, Warner identifies 1 Kings 2 and 11, Solomon's succession narratives, as a possible Vorlage for Genesis 26. The use of terms traditionally associated with Deuteronomy, and employed in 1 Kings 2 and 11, as well as in Genesis 26:5 (“obeyed,” “kept,” “charge,” “commandments,” “statutes,” and “instructions”; cf. Deut 11:1, 28:1; 1 Kgs 2:3–4, 11:34, 11:38), serves to root God's promise in the obedience of Abraham. Hence, according to Warner, the pronounced promise is only conditional on the obedience of Abraham and not on the obedience of each subsequent generation of Israelites, as often thought to be the case in classic Deuteronom(ist)ic parlance and as identified in 1 Kings 11:34 and 38. (Warner makes a similar point with regard to Genesis 22:15–18.) Thus, Warner writes, “Genesis 26 engages with the DeutH [Deuteronomistic History] model for the transgenerational extension of divine promises, only to correct it” (74). Within this correction Warner detects the influence of Priestly motifs, particularly what she calls a “pervading sense of universalism” (76) in relation to the land gift. This will ultimately build into her final conclusion that the four passages in question are related to an H redaction (230–37).

Throughout her discussion Warner goes some way towards bringing into question the Deuteronom(ist)ic provenance of these four Genesis passages, although such questioning is by no means original. Part of the difficulty in chapter 2 arises when we examine Warner's comparison between the Davidic promise in 1 Kings 2 and 11 and the promises to Isaac in Genesis 26:3–5. Warner writes, “The promises are extended to Isaac and his offspring for Abraham's sake.… The result is a suggestion that the Abrahamic promises cannot fail or be cancelled as a result of the disobedience of Abraham's offspring as the Davidic promises failed as the result of the disobedience of David's offspring” (73). Warner has a tendency to gloss over the enduring aspect of the Davidic promise in 1 Kings 11:34, 38. To be sure, part of the kingdom is taken away from the Davidic line, but part of it still endures “for the sake of my servant David” (1 Kings 11:34). Thus, in some sense, the Davidic promise also endures on the basis of “an already performed condition” (73). To tighten this part of her argument Warner would need to demonstrate more clearly why and how the enduring nature of the Davidic promise differs from that of the promises in Genesis 26:3–5. This does not necessarily undermine the connection Warner draws between H and Genesis 26:3–5, but it does leave the reader with certain questions. Could it not be that, instead of revising the conditional aspect of the covenant with David, the monarchic model is evoked in Genesis 26 in order to appropriate the kind of confidence placed in the figure of David for Israel's foundational figure, Abraham? Could appropriation be a more subtle description of what is taking place here rather than revision? This suggestion also has wider-ranging implications for Warner's argument, as similar questions could be asked, for example, of chapter 3.

Aside from this point, Warner appears to be largely successful in querying the Deuteronom(ist)ic characterization of Genesis 15; 18:17–19; 22:15–17; and 26:3–5, even if her proposal for what these passages are seeking to do requires either some further substantiation or possibly some revision.

Warner's work engages with a much wider scholarly discussion around the origins and composition of the Pentateuch, and, consequently, it is primarily aimed at this scholarly readership. However, given its lucid style and clear argumentation, it should be accessible and helpful for those who would not consider themselves members of the guild of pentateuchal critics. Of particular interest to a wider readership is the way Warner engages questions of particularism and universalism as she seeks to demonstrate a much more harmonious relationship between the patriarchal figures and the inhabitants of the land than is sometimes assumed. Moreover, her discussions around the dialectic between divine promise and Torah observance offer some interesting insights for wider theological and ethical reflection. This is a cogently argued work that excellently demonstrates some of the ways thoughtful, rigorous biblical scholarship may contribute to wider academic discourse.