To illustrate this point he compares the Pentateuch to a Rembrandt painting: "The Pentateuch may be compared to a Rembrandt painting of real persons or events. We do not understand a Rembrandt painting by taking a photograph of the 'thing' that Rembrandt painted and comparing it with the painting itself. That may help us understand the 'thing' that Rembrandt painted, his subject matter, but it will not help us understand the painting itself. To understand Rembrandt's painting, we must look at it and see its colors, shapes and textures. In the same way, to understand the Pentateuch one must look at it and see its colors, contours, and textures. To understand Rembrandt's painting, one must study the painting itself. To understand the Pentateuch, one must study the Pentateuch itself (Sailhamer 19-20).
For instance, Sailhamer criticizes an approach which seeks to study the Pentateuch according to ancient Israel's religion. He contrasts religion and revelation. Seeking to understand Adam or Abraham's real world is different than seeking to understand the way the author has chosen to use these characters in the Pentateuch. Likewise, the actual collection of laws given to ancient Israel are different than the laws within the Pentateuch. The laws within the Pentateuch are not exhaustive. The author has chosen specific laws and placed them strategically in his text to develop his theology. He is using them literarily to make a message.
This approach takes seriously the world of the text in contrast to the real world outside of the text: "The Pentateuch, and the Bible as a whole, presents its readers not merely with a narrated segment of their own world, but with a world entirely of the biblical author's making, or better, in the case of the Bible, entirely of God's making. As the author of the Pentateuch understands it, God created a world, the only world, 'in the beginning,' and through the act of reading the Pentateuch he brings its readers into the reality (res) of that world" (Sailhamer 158). While many would argue that knowing the world of the Pentateuch's audience is necessary to challenge our preconceived 21st century notions, Sailhamer argues that the understanding the world of the canon does a far better job of engaging our modern mindsets.
Sailhamer emphasizes the centrality of Messiah in the Pentateuch as well as the whole Tanak (Hebrew Bible). He recognizes that using the term "Messiah" is nearly as anachronistic as using the term "Jesus" to trace an Old Testament theme, since there are only a select few explicitly "Messianic" passages throughout Scripture. Yet he argues that throughout the whole Hebrew Bible a character is developed who would be the Messiah, and Sailhamer uses "Jesus" to label this character:
In searching for the "biblical Jesus" he says, "I am using the name 'Jesus' more as a pointer to a central figure found in both the OT and the NT Scriptures... in the OT texts this literary figure is realized primarily in a series of poetic images and metaphors, such as 'the seed,' 'a king,' 'a lion,' 'the branch,'- the list goes on" (Sailhamer 463). Crucial to the centrality of this literary figure is the "seed of Abraham" in the Pentateuch. Sailhamer spends much time arguing for the legitimacy of Paul's reference to this seed as "Christ" in Galatians 3:16, as opposed to some who would belittle this comment. He argues that while the original mention of seed in Genesis 3:15 is indeed ambiguous, the author works to narrow this down, especially in the major poems of the Pentateuch (Genesis 49, Numbers 23 & 24, Deuteronomy 33) which make reference to a singular seed who is a coming king. Likewise, he argues that Jeremiah 4:12 (quoting this reference to "seed") interprets seed as "him," a masculine singular pronoun. Within this passage's context, the masculine singular him is in contrast to Israel, who is referred to in the second person (you).
Much of what Sailhamer argues centers on the author's use of Genesis 3:15. He stresses how many either dismiss this passage as unimportant or give it too much unwarranted weight. Instead, he shows that the author is indeed using ambiguity, and that he will eventually unfold the details: "The author uses the very ambiguity that we, as readers, find so troublesome. Ambiguity in these texts is a mechanism for sharpening the reader's focus. It is a central part of the authors's [sic] strategy in both texts" (Sailhamer 494).
Sailhamer uses the following helpful illustration to demonstrate the development of the Messianic imagery of the Hebrew Bible: " "Someone recently described the lens of an old lighthouse along the New England coastline, a lighthouse used long before the discovery of electricity . Its light source was a single candle. The lens of its light consisted of thousands of triangular surfaces. Each surface focused and refracted a small portion of the original candlelight. The result was a beam of light cast twenty miles out to sea. The original light was just a small candle. As it passed through the lens, the light of each part of it was reflected off the other parts until it had become a bright beacon composed of thousands of pieces of the original candlelight. This is not unlike the HB. As the original messianic candlelight passes first through the Pentateuch and then the rest of the Tanak, it becomes a bright light that shines on and enlightens the NT. Unfortunately, we have become accustomed to holding only the candlelight (e.g. Gen 3:15) up to the NT instead of reading the NT in the light cast by the lens of the whole Tanak" (Sailhamer 247).
One of my professors has labeled Sailhamer as "a bit of a maverick," and indeed he is. Yet the arguments he presents in support of his canonical, compositional approach to the Pentateuch are extremely compelling. And if he is right, then listening to his criticism would absolutely revolutionize the authority of the Scripture in the evangelical world.