Perspectives on Hebrew Scriptures IX: Comprising the Contents of Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, vol. 12 9781463235635

This volume incorporates all the articles and reviews published in volume 12 (2012) of the Journal of Hebrew Scriptures.

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Perspectives on Hebrew Scriptures IX: Comprising the Contents of Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, vol. 12
 9781463235635

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Perspectives on Hebrew Scriptures IX

Perspectives on Hebrew Scriptures and its Contexts 22

This series contains volumes dealing with the study of the Hebrew Bible, ancient Israelite society and related ancient societies, biblical Hebrew and cognate languages, the reception of biblical texts through the centuries, and the history of the discipline. The series includes monographs, edited collections, and the printed version of the Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, which is also available online.

Perspectives on Hebrew Scriptures IX

Comprising the Contents of Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, vol. 12

Edited by

Ehud Ben Zvi Christophe Nihan

9

34 2014

Gorgias Press LLC, 954 River Road, Piscataway, NJ, 08854, USA www.gorgiaspress.com Copyright © 2014 by Gorgias Press LLC

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise without the prior written permission of Gorgias Press LLC. 2014

‫ܛ‬

9

ISBN 978-1-4632-0420-4

Printed in the United States of America

ISSN 1935-6897

TABLE OF CONTENTS

VOL. 12 (2012) The Meaning of Ṣantĕrôt (Zech 4:12) Al Wolters ........................................................................................................ 1 Female Slave vs Female Slave: ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬in the HB Edward J. Bridge........................................................................................... 19 Literacy, Utopia and Memory: Is There a Public Teaching in Deuteronomy? Kåre Berge ..................................................................................................... 43 Archaeological Facts, Historical Speculations and the Date of the lmlk Storage Jars: A Rejoinder to David Ussishkin Oded Lipschits .............................................................................................. 65 History in the Eye of the Beholder? Social Location & Allegations of Racial/Colonial Biases in Reconstructions of Sennacherib’s Invasion of Judah Paul S. Evans ................................................................................................. 81 Foreign Marriages and Citizenship in Persian Period Judah Wolfgang Oswald .......................................................................................107 “Oh that you were like a brother to me, one who had nursed at my mother’s breasts” Breast Milk as a Kinship-Forging Substance Cynthia R. Chapman ..................................................................................125 Making It Sound—The Performative Qatal and its Explanation Alexander Andrason ..................................................................................169 The Morphology of the tG-Stem in Hebrew and Tirgaltî in Hos 11:3 Jeremy M. Hutton and Safwat Marzouk .................................................231 v

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PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES

The Fallacy of ‘True and False’ in Prophecy Illustrated by Jer 28:8–9 Matthijs J. de Jong ......................................................................................277 Micah’s Teraphim Benjamin D. Cox and Susan Ackerman .................................................309 The Structure of Zechariah 8 and Its Meaning Elie Assis......................................................................................................351 The “Spring of the Year” (2 Chronicles 36:10) and the Chronicler’s Sources Michael Avioz ............................................................................................. 371 Medieval Jewish Exegesis on Dual Incipits Issac B. Gottlieb .........................................................................................381 Psalm 68: Structure Compostion and Geography Israel Knohl .................................................................................................413 Keeping the Faithful : Persuasive Strategies in Psalms 4 and 62 Davida Charney ..........................................................................................437 Stones on Display in Joshua 6: The Linguistic Tree Constructor as a “PLOT” Tool Nicolai Winther-Nielsen............................................................................451 God and the Sea in Job 38 Collin R. Cornell .........................................................................................485

REVIEWS Rüdiger Schmitt, DER “HEILIGE KRIEG” IM PENTATEUCH UND IM DEUTERONOMISTISCHEN GESCHICHTSWERK: STUDIEN ZUR FORSCHUNGS-, REZEPTIONS- UND RELIGIONSGESCHICHTE VON KRIEG UND BANN IM ALTEN TESTAMENT Reviewed by Jacob L. Wright. ............................................................. 503 Anne Moore, MOVING BEYOND SYMBOL AND MYTH: UNDERSTANDING THE KINGSHIP OF GOD OF THE HEBREW BIBLE THROUGH METAPHOR Reviewed by Beth M. Stovell............................................................... 511

TABLE OF CONTENTS

vii

Adolfo D. Roitman, BIBLIA, EXÉGESIS Y RELIGIÓN: UNA LECTURA CRÍTICO-HISTÓRICA DEL JUDAÍSMO Reviewed by Natalio Fernández Marcos ........................................... 516 Rachelle Gilmour, REPRESENTING THE PAST: A LITERARY ANALYSIS OF NARRATIVE HISTORIOGRAPHY IN THE BOOK OF SAMUEL; Reviewed by Dan Pioske..................................................................... 519 Kristin M. Saxegaard, CHARACTER COMPLEXITY IN THE BOOK OF RUTH Reviewd by Peter Lau. .......................................................................... 527 Michael W. Duggan, THE CONSUMING FIRE: A CHRISTIAN GUIDE TO THE OLD TESTAMENT Reviewed by Sonya Kostamo .............................................................. 532 Jeremy Hutton, THE TRANSJORDANIAN PALIMPSEST: THE OVERWRITTEN TEXTS OF PERSONAL EXILE AND TRANSFORMATION IN THE DEUTERONOMISITIC HISTORY Reviewed by Klaus-Peter Adam. ........................................................ 535 Stephanie Dalley, ESTHER’S REVENGE AT SUSA: FROM SENNACHERIB TO AHASUERUS Reviewed by Maria Brosius.................................................................. 540 Harmut N. Rösel, JOSHUA Reviewed by Phillippe Guillaume ....................................................... 543 Luke Gärtner-Brereton, THE ONTOLOGY OF SPACE IN BIBLICAL HEBREW NARRATIVE: THE DETERMINATE FUNCTION OF NARRATIVE “SPACE” WITHIN THE BIBLICAL HEBREW AESTHETIC Reviewed by Robert C. Kashow ......................................................... 545 Thomas B. Dozeman, EXODUS Reviewed by William Morrow. ............................................................ 550 Jo Ann Hackett, A BASIC INTRODUCTION TO BIBLICAL HEBREW Reviewed by Jason Jackson.................................................................. 554 Anselm C. Hagedorn and Andrew Mein, (eds.), ASPECTS OF AMOS:

EXEGESIS AND INTERPRETATION

Reviewed by M. Daniel Carroll ........................................................... 558 Molly M. Zahn, RETHINKING REWRITTEN SCRIPTURE: COMPOSITION AND EXEGESIS IN THE 4QREWORKED PENTATEUCH MANUSCRIPTS Reviewed by William Tooman ............................................................ 561 John J. Ahn, EXILE AS FORCED MIGRATIONS: A SOCIOLOGICAL, LITERARY, AND THEOLOGICAL APPROACH ON THE DISPLACEMENT AND RESETTLEMENT OF THE SOUTHERN KINGDOM OF JUDAH Reviewed by Bob Becking ................................................................... 566

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PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES

John H. Walton, GENESIS 1 AS ANCIENT COSMOLOGY Reviewed by Izaak J. de Hulster ......................................................... 570 Takayoshi Oshima, BABYLONIAN PRAYERS TO MARDUK Reviewed by Scott C. Jones ................................................................. 581 Reinhard Kratz, PROPHETENSTUDIEN: KLEINE SCHRIFTEN II Reviewed by Jakob Wöhrle.................................................................. 588 Magnar Kartveit, THE ORIGIN OF THE SAMARITANS Reviewed by Reinhard Pummer.......................................................... 592 Leigh M. Trevaskis, HOLINESS, ETHICS AND RITUAL IN LEVITICUS Reviewed by Roy E. Gane. .................................................................. 599 Łukasz Niesiołowski-Spanò, ORIGIN MYTHS AND HOLY PLACES IN THE OLD TESTAMENT: A STUDY OF AETIOLOGICAL NARRATIVES Reviewed by Eric Ortlund ................................................................... 604 Fiona Black, THE ARTIFICE OF LOVE: GROTESQUE BODIES AND THE SONG OF SONGS Reviewed by Julia M. O’Brien ............................................................. 607 Christopher R. Seitz, THE GOODLY FELLOWSHIP OF THE PROPHETS: THE ACHIEVEMENT OF ASSOCIATION IN CANON FORMATION Reviewed by Mark E. Biddle ............................................................... 610 Michael V. Fox, PROVERBS 10-31: A NEW TRANSLATION WITH INTRODUCTION AND COMMENTARY Reviewed by Christine Roy Yoder...................................................... 613 Gordon K. Oeste, LEGITIMACY, ILLEGITIMACY, AND THE RIGHT TO RULE: WINDOWS ON ABIMELECH’S RISE AND DEMISE IN JUDGES 9 Reviewed by Lissa M. Wray Beal ........................................................ 616 Tamara Cohn Eskenazi and Tikva Frymer-Kensky, RUTH Reviewed by Timothy Stone ................................................................ 619 Christian Frevel, (ed.), MIXED MARRIAGES: INTERMARRIAGES AND GROUP IDENTITY IN THE SECOND TEMPLE PERIOD Reviewed by Steven J. Schweitzer ...................................................... 623 Tod Linafelt, Claudia V. Camp, and Timothy Beal, (eds.), THE FATE OF KING DAVID: THE PAST AND PRESENT OF A BIBLICAL ICON Reviewed by David B. Schreiner......................................................... 628 Andrew J. Dearman, THE BOOK OF HOSEA Reviewed by Anna Sieges..................................................................... 633 Jacob Stromberg, ISAIAH AFTER EXILE: THE AUTHOR OF THIRD ISAIAH AS READER AND REDACTOR OF THE BOOK Reviewed by Lena-Sofia Tiemeyer ..................................................... 636 Alice Wood, OF WINGS AND WHEELS: A SYNTHETIC STUDY OF THE BIBLICAL CHERUBIM

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ix

Reviewed by Michael Hundley. ........................................................... 641 Alberdina Houtman and Harry Sysling, ALTERNATIVE TARGUM TRADITIONS: THE USE OF VARIANT READINGS FOR THE STUDY IN ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF TARGUM JONATHAN Reviewed by William Tooman ............................................................ 646 Christian Kupfer, MIT ISRAEL AUF DEM WEG DURCH DIE WÜSTE: EINE LESEORIENTIERTE EXEGESE DER REBELLIONSTEXTE IN EXODUS 15:22–17:7 UND NUMERI 11:1–20:13 Reviewed by Nathan MacDonald. ...................................................... 650 Micahel B. Hundley, KEEPING HEAVEN ON EARTH: SAFEGUARDING THE DIVINE PRESENCE IN THE PRIESTLY TABERNACLE Reviewed by Mark George................................................................... 653 Kenneth C. Way, DONKEYS IN THE BIBLICAL WORLD: CEREMONY AND SYMBOL Reviewed by Gerald A. Klingbeil ....................................................... 657 Bruce J. Harvey, YHWH ELOHIM: A SURVEY OF OCCURRENCES IN THE LENINGRAD CODEX AND THEIR CORRESPONDING SEPTUAGINTAL RENDERINGS Reviewed by Michael P. Knowles....................................................... 661 Isaac Kalimi, (ed.), NEW PERSPECTIVES ON EZRA-NEHEMIAH: HISTORY AND HISTORIOGRAPHY, TEXT, LITERATURE, AND INTERPRETATION Reviewed by Steven J. Schweitzer ...................................................... 665 James C. VanderKam, THE DEAD SEA SCROLLS AND THE BIBLE Reviewed by Robert C. Kashow ......................................................... 658 Matthew J. M. Coomber, (ed.), BIBLE AND JUSTICE: ANCIENT TEXTS, MODERN CHALLENGES Reviewed by Shannon Baines.............................................................. 672 Christopher B. Hay, DEATH IN THE IRON AGE II AND IN FIRST ISAIAH Reviewed by Konrad Schmid .............................................................. 677 Kyong-Jin Lee, THE AUTHORITY AND AUTHORIZATION OF TORAH IN THE PERSIAN PERIOD Reviewed by James Watts .................................................................... 681 David M. Carr, THE FORMATION OF THE HEBREW BIBLE: A NEW RECONSTRUCTION Reviewed by Timothy Stone ................................................................ 684 John Van Seters, THE BIBLICAL SAGA OF KING DAVID Reviewed by David B. Schreiner......................................................... 692 Michael R. Stead, THE INTERTEXTUALITY OF ZECHARIAH 1–8 Reviewed by Garrick Allen .................................................................. 698

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PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES

Ehud Ben Zvi and Diana V. Edelman, (eds.), WHAT WAS AUTHORITATIVE FOR CHRONICLES? Reviewed by Paul L. Redditt................................................................ 701 Isaac Kalimi (ed.), JEWISH BIBLE THEOLOGY: PERSPECTIVES AND CASE STUDIES Reviewed by Joseph Ryan Kelly.......................................................... 705 Elie Assis, FLASHES OF FIRE: A LITERARY ANALYSIS OF THE SONG OF SONGS Reviewed by Richard Hess................................................................... 708 Roger S. Nam, PORTRAYALS OF ECONOMIC EXCHANGE IN THE BOOK OF KINGS Reviewed by Oded Lipschits and Ido Koch ..................................... 711 M. E. Stone, ANCIENT JUDAISM: NEW VISIONS AND VIEWS Reviewed by Anthony Meyer .............................................................. 719 Hallvard Hagelia, THREE OLD TESTAMENT THEOLOGIES FOR TODAY: HELGE S. KVANVIG, WALTER BRUEGGEMANN AND ERHARD GERSTENBERGER Reviewed by James Mead..................................................................... 723 Teresa J. Hornsby, and Ken Stone, (eds.), BIBLE TROUBLE: QUEER READINGS AT THE BOUNDARIES OF BIBLICAL SCHOLARSHIP Reviewed by Steven J. Schweitzer ...................................................... 726 Eugene Ulrich and Peter W. Flint, with a contribution by Martin G. Abegg, Jr., Qumran QUMRAN CAVE 1, II: THE ISAIAH SCROLLS. PART 1: PLATES AND TRANSCRIPTIONS; PART 2: INTRODUCTIONS, COMMENTARY, AND TEXTUAL VARIANTS Reviewed by Robert D. Holmstedt. .......................................................... John Goldingay and Pamela J. Scalise, MINOR PROPHETS II Reviewed by Robert C. Kashow ......................................................... 736 Matthew A. Thomas, THESE ARE THE GENERATIONS: IDENTITY, COVENANT AND THE ‘TOLEDOT’ FORMULA Reviewed by Carol Kamiski ................................................................. 739 Timothy H Lim and John J. Collins, (eds.), THE OXFORD HANDBOOK OF THE DEAD SEA SCROLLS Reviewed by Eileen M. Schuller.......................................................... 743 Paul M. Joyce and Andrew Mein, (eds.), AFTER EZEKIEL: ESSAYS ON THE RECEPTION OF A DIFFICULT PROPHET Reviewed by Risa Levitt Kohn ............................................................ 748 Megan Bishop Moore and Brad E. Kelle, BIBLICAL HISTORY AND ISRAEL’S PAST: THE CHANGING STUDY OF THE BIBLE AND HISTORY Reviewed by John Van Seters.............................................................. 750

TABLE OF CONTENTS

xi

Chris Franke and Julia M. O’Brien, (eds.), THE AESTHETICS OF VIOLENCE IN THE PROPHETS Reviewed by Joel Barker....................................................................... 754 Myrto Theocharous, LEXICAL DEPENDENCE AND INTERTEXTUAL ALLUSION IN THE SEPTUAGINT OF THE TWELVE PROPHETS: STUDIES IN HOSEA, AMOS AND MICAH Reviewed by W. Edward Glenny ........................................................ 758 Joel S. Baden, THE COMPOSITION OF THE PENTATEUCH. RENEWING THE DOCUMENTARY HYPOTHESIS Mark A. O’Brien. ................................................................................... 761 Bo H. Lim, THE ‘WAY OF THE LORD’ IN THE BOOK OF ISAIAH Reveiwed by Kevin Chau ..................................................................... 765 Assnat Bartor, READING LAW AS NARRATIVE: A STUDY IN THE CASUISTIC LAWS OF THE PENTATEUCH Reviewed by Jonathan Vroom ............................................................ 768 Antonios Finitsis, VISIONS AND ESCHATOLOGY: A SOCIO-HISTORICAL ANALYSIS OF ZECHARIAH 1–6 .................................................................. Reviewed by Walter H. Rose ............................................................... 771 Index ..................................................................................................................... 777

PREFACE The present publication includes all the articles and reviews published electronically in the Journal of Hebrew Scriptures vol. 12 (2012), all of which are accessible online at http://www.jhsonline.org. The Journal of Hebrew Scriptures provides freely available, peerreviewed articles related to the history of ancient Israel and its literature. By doing so, the Journal fulfills important academic needs, particularly in relation to the production and dissemination of scholarly contributions that are well-researched, original, have high academic standards, and are likely to open new avenues in the field. JHS’s authors and readers come from different countries and, as such, the Journal contributes to a scholarly conversation that is not restricted by geographical boundaries. Given that the Journal is open access, this scholarly conversation is also not restricted to those with certain levels of income or who can access excellent (and wellfunded) research libraries. In addition, it is the policy of the Journal to promote not only contributions of established scholars, but also appropriate contributions of scholars in their first stages in the field. The Journal has grown substantially in the number of published contributions through the years, but it is still run in the main by volunteers. Peter Altmann and Konrad Schmid are the Review Editors for books published in “continental” Europe in any language except Spanish. Mark J. Boda serves as Review Editor for books published in North America or anywhere in the English speaking world. Maria-Teresa Ortega Monasterio is the Review Editor for books published in Spanish, whether in Spain or anywhere in the world. We thank the three review editors for all their work, which represents a major contribution to JHS. The editorial board of the Journal consists of Peter Altmann, Ehud Ben Zvi, Adele Berlin, Mark J. Boda, Philip R. Davies, Michael V. Fox, William K. Gilders, Gary N. Knoppers, Robert A. Kugler, Francis Landy, Niels Peter Lemche, Mark Leuchter, Oded Lipschits, Hanna Liss, John L. McLaughlin, Reinhard Müller, Hindy Najman, Christophe Nihan, Scott B. Noegel, Saul M. Olyan, Maria-Teresa Ortega Monasterio, Gary A. Rendsburg, Konrad Schmid, Gene M. Tucker and Jacob L. Wright. We xiii

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PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES

thank them all for their continuous work with, and support, this Journal. We also thank the many occasional reviewers of submissions who have similarly contributed to keep the high standards of the journal, and often improved essays with their well-thought suggestions and comments. The regular publication of the Journal is supported by a grant of the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRC) and is made possible by the work of many volunteers in different areas. It is impossible to name them all here, but in terms of technical production the contribution of Melanie Marvin (Dept. of History and Classics, Univ. of Alberta) is so prominent that she deserves a specific mention. Among her many other contributions, she prepared the present manuscript. Finally, we would like to thank George Kiraz for publishing the printed version of JHS through Gorgias Press, for understanding the importance of maintaining the freely available electronic version of the journal, and for his own role in the development of open-access electronic academic journals. As we complete this preface and go over the many explicit thanks—and in our mind also over those that are implicit here, or minimally mentioned—we can only think of how well they reflect the basic fact that the continuous existence of this open access journal and its present publication in hard copy are the result of a work of love carried out by and through so many willing hands. Ehud Ben Zvi University of Alberta General Editor (2012), Journal of Hebrew Scriptures Christophe Nihan University of Lausanne Associate General Editor (2012), Journal of Hebrew Scriptures

ABBREVIATIONS AASF AASOR

ABRL

Annales Academiae scientiarum fennicae Annual of the American Schools of Oriental Research American Academy of Religion Anchor Bible Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by David Noel Freedman. 6 vols. New York, 1992 Anchor Bible Reference Library

AnBib

Princeton, 1969 Analecta biblica

AAR AB

ABD

ACJS AcOr ADPV AJBI AJSR ANES ANET

Annual of the College of Jewish Studies Acta orientalia Abhandlungen des Deutschen Palästina-Vereins Annual of the Japanese Biblical Institute Association for Jewish Studies Review Ancient Near Eastern Studies Ancient Near Eastern Texts Relating to the Old Testament. Edited by J. B. Pritchard. 3d ed.;

AnOr

Analecta orientalia

AS ASOR ASV

Assyriological Studies American School of Oriental Research American Standard Version

AuOr AUSS BA

Aula orientalis Andrews University Seminary Studies Biblical Archaeologist

AOAT AOS AOT AOTC ArBib

ATD

Alter Orient und Altes Testament American Oriental Series Apollos Old Testament Commentaries Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries The Aramaic Bible

Das Alte Testament Deutsch

xv

xvi

BAR BASOR BBB BBET

BBR BDB

BEATAJ BETL BH

BHS

Bib BibInt BibOr BJRL BJS

BS

BKAT

BN BR BSOAS B.T.

BWANT

BZ

BZAR BZAW

CAD

PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES

Biblical Archaeology Review Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research Bonner biblische Beiträge Beiträge zur biblischen Exegese und Theologie

Bulletin for Biblical Research

F. Brown, S. R. Driver, and C. A. Briggs. A

Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament (Oxford, 1907

Beiträge zur Erforschung des Alten Testaments und des antiken Judentum Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum lovaniensium Biblical Hebrew Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia. Edited by K. Elliger and W. Rudolph. Stuttgart, 1983

Biblica Biblical Interpretation Biblica et orientalia Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of Manchester Brown Judaic Studies

Bibliotheca Sacra

Biblischer Kommentar, Altes Testament. Edited by M. Noth and H. W. Wolff

Biblische Notizen Biblical Research Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies Babylonian Talmud Beitrage zur Wissenschaft vom Alten und Neuen Testament

Biblische Zeitschrift

Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft

The Assyrian Dictionary of the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago. Chicago, 1956–

ABBREVIATIONS

CANE CBC CBOTS

CBQ

CBQMS CNEB

xvii

Civilizations of the Ancient Near East. Edited by J. Sasson. 4 vols. New York, 1995 Cambridge Bible Commentary Coniectanea Biblica Old Testament Series

Catholic Biblical Quarterly

Catholic Biblical Quarterly Monograph Series Cambridge Commentary on the New English Bible

CHANE

Culture and History of the Ancient Near East

COS DCH

Context of Scripture Dictionary of Classical Hebrew. Edited by D. J. A.

ConBNT

DDD2

Coniectanea neotestamentica biblica: New Testament Series

or

Coniectanea

Clines. Sheffield, 1993–

Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible.

DJD DPV

Edited by K. van der Toorn, B. Becking, and P. W. van der Horst. Second Extensively Revised Edition; Leiden/Grand Rapids, 1999. Sheffield, 1993– Discoveries in the Judaean Desert Deutsch Verein zur Erforschung Palsätinas

EBH

Early Biblical Hebrew

DSD EI EEF ESV ETL

FAT FB FOTL FRLANT FZPT GAT

GKG GTJ

Dead Sea Discoveries

Eretz Israel Egypt Exploration Fund English Standard Version Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses

Forschungen zum Alten Testament Forschung zur Bibel Forms of the Old Testament Literature Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments Freiburger Zeitshrift für Philosophie und Theologie Gundrisse zum Alten Testament Gesenius’ Hebrew Grammar. Edited by E. Kautzsch. Translated by A. E. Cowley. 2d. ed. Oxford, 1910

Grace Theological Journal

xviii

PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES

HAHAT

W. Gesenius, F. Buhl, Hebräisches und aramäisches Handwörterbuch über das Alte Testament. Leipzig, 1915

HALOT

Koehler, L., W. Baumgartner, and J. J. Stamm.

The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament. Translated and edited under the supervision of M. E. J. Richardson. 4 vols. Leiden, 1994–1999

HAR

Hebrew Annual Review

HBS HCSB HeyJ HS

Herder’s Biblical Studies Holman Christian Standard Bible Heythrop Journal Hebrew Studies

HTR

Harvard Theological Review

HUCA

Hebrew Union College Annual

HAT

HSS HSM HTS

IAA IBC ICC IDAM

IEJ

Handbuch zum Alten Testament

Harvard Semitic Studies Harvard Semitic Monographs Harvard Theological Studies

Israel Antiquities Authority International Bible Commentary International Critical Commentary Israel Department of Antiquities and Museums

Israel Exploration Journal

IES

Israel Exploration Society

IOSCS

International Organization for Septuagint and Cognate Studies

Int

JAAR JANES JANESCU JAOS JB JBL JBQ JCS

Interpretation

Journal of the American Academy of the Religion Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society of Columbia University Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society of Columbia University Journal of the American Oriental Society Jerusalem Bible Journal of Biblical Literature Jewish Bible Quarterly Journal of Cuneiform Studies

ABBREVIATIONS

JESHO

xix

JETS JHS JJS JNES JNSL JOTT JPS JQR JR JSem

Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society Journal of Hebrew Scriptures Journal of Jewish Studies Journal of Near Eastern Studies Journal of Northwest Semitic Languages Journal of Translation and Textlinguistics Jewish Publication Society Jewish Quarterly Review Journal of Religion Journal of Semitics

JSOT

Journal for the Study of the Old Testament

JSJSup JSOTSup

JSPSup

JSS JTS KAI KAT

KBL

KHC

KJV KTU

Journal for the Study of Judaism Supplement Series

Journal for the Study of the Old Testament, Supplement Series Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha Supplement Series

Journal of Semitic Studies Journal of Theological Studies Kanaanäishe und aramäische Inschriften. H.

Donner and W. Röllig. 2d ed. Wiesbaden, 1966– 1969 Kommentar zum Alten Testament Koehler, L. and W. Baumgartner, Lexicon in Veteris Testamenti libros. 2d ed. Leiden, 1958 Kurzer Hand-Commentar zum Alten Testament

King James Version Die keilalphabetischen Texte aus Ugarit. Edited by

M. Dietrich, O. Loretz, and J. Sanmartín. AOAT 24/1. Neukirchen-Vluyn, 1976. 2d enlarged edition of KTU: The Cuneiform Alphabet Texts

from Ugarit, Ras Ibn Hani, and Other Places.

LBH LCL LHBOTS LXX

Edited by M. Dietrich, O. Loretz, and J. Sanmartín. Münster, 1996 (= CTU) Late Biblical Hebrew Loeb Classical Library Library of Hebrew Bible / Old Testament Studies Septuagint

xx MH MSIA MT NAC

NEAEHL

PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES Mishnaic Hebrew Monograph Series of the Institute of Archaeology of Tel Aviv University Masoretic Text New American Commentary

The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land. Edited by E. Stern.

NEchtB

4 vols. Jerusalem, 1993 NeueEchterBibel

NCBC

New Century Bible Commentary

NIBCOT

New International Commentary on the Old Testament New International Commentary on the Old Testament

NCB NIB

NICOT

New Century Bible

The New Interpreter’s Bible

NIDOTTE

New International Dictionary of Old Testament Theology and Exegesis. Edited by W. A.

NIV NIVI

NJPSV NLT NRSV

New International Version New International Version, Inclusive Language Edition New Jerusalem Bible Tanakh: The Holy Scriptures: The New JPS Translation According to the Traditional Hebrew Text New Jewish Publication Society Translation New Living Translation New Revised Standard Version

OIP

Oriental Institute Publications

NJB NJPS

OBO ÖBS OG OL OLA

OLZ Or OTE

OTG OTL

VanGemeren. 5 vols. Grand Rapids, 1997

Orbis biblicus et orientalis Österreichische biblische Studien Old Greek Old Latin Orientalia lovaniensia analecta

Orientalistische Literaturzeitung Orientalia Old Testament Essays

Old Testament Guides Old Testament Library

ABBREVIATIONS

xxi

OTS

Oudtestamentische Studiën

PEQ PEF Proof

Palestine Exploration Quarterly Palestine Exploration Fund Prooftexts

RA RB REB RevExp RevQ RGG RIBLA RBL RSV

Revue d’assyriologie et d’archéologie orientale Revue biblique Revised English Bible Review and Expositor Revue de Qumran Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart Revista de interpretación bíblica latino-americana Review of Biblical Literature Revised Standard Version

OTS OtSt

QH

SAAS SBAB SBL SBLDS SBLEJL SBLSCS SBLSP SBLSymS SBLWAW SBT SemeiaSt SHCANE

SJOT SSN SubBi STDJ

TA

TBC

Old Testament Studies Oudtestamentische Studiën

Qumran Hebrew

State Archives of Assyria Studies Stuttgarter biblische Aufsatzbände Society of Biblical Literature Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series Society of Biblical Literature Early Judaism and Its Literature Society of Biblical Literature Septuagint and Cognate Studies Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers Society of Biblical Literature Symposium Series Society of Biblical Literature Writings from the Ancient World Studies in Biblical Theology Semeia Studies Studies in the History and Culture of the Ancient Near East

Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament Studia semitica neerlandica Subsidia biblica

Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah

Tel Aviv

Torch Bible Commentary

xxii

TDOT

PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES

Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament.

ThStKr

Edited by G. J. Botterweck and H. Ringgren. Grand Rapids, 1974– Theologische Studien und Kritiken

TLZ

Ringgren. Stuttgart, 1970– Theologische Literaturzeitung

TOTC

Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries

TU

Texte und Untersuchungen

ThWAT

TNIV TRE TRev

Theologisches Wörterbuch zum Alten Testamentum. Edited by G. Botterweck and H. Today’s NewInternational Version

Theologische Realenzyklopädie Theological Review

TynBul UF VT

Tyndale Bulletin Ugarit-Forschungen Vetus Testamentum

WTJ ZA ZABR ZAH ZAW

Westminster Theological Journal Zeitschrift für Assyriologie Zeitschrift für altorientalische und biblische Rechtgeschichte Zeitschrift für Althebraistik Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft

ZDVP ZThK

Zeitschrift desdeutschen Palästina-Vereins Zeitschrift für Theologie und Kirche

VTSup WBC WMANT

ZBK

Vetus Testamentum Supplements Word Biblical Commentary Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament

Zürucher Bibelkommentare

THE MEANING OF ṢANTĔRÔT (ZECH 4:12) AL WOLTERS

REDEEMER UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, ANCASTER, ONTARIO, CANADA Zechariah 4 describes the fifth of the eight night visions of Zechariah. What the prophet sees is a menorah which is flanked on either side by an olive tree. Verse 12 of the chapter seems to describe a kind of double-take on the part of the prophet, calling attention—in the form of a question addressed to the angelic commentator of the night visions—to a feature of the fifth vision that had not been part of the preceding description. The question reads as follows in the MT and NRSV: ‫יקים‬ ִ ‫יתים ֲא ֶשׁר ְבּיַ ד ְשׁנֵ י ַצנְ ְתּרוֹת ַהזָּ ָהב ַה ְמּ ִר‬ ִ ֵ‫ה־שׁ ֵתּי ִשׁ ֲבּ ֵלי ַהזּ‬ ְ ‫ַמ‬ ‫יהם ַהזָּ ָהב‬ ֶ ‫ֵמ ֲﬠ ֵל‬ “What are these two branches of the olive trees, which pour out the oil through the two golden pipes?”

The branches in question are subsequently identified by the angel as “the two anointed ones (literally, “the two sons of oil”) who stand by the Lord of the whole earth” (verse 14). This verse and its immediate context are bristling with exegetical difficulties. The vision of the menorah is itself interrupted by an oracle addressed to Zerubbabel (widely declared since Wellhausen to be a later interpolation), which interprets the vision as a divine message to this Davidide governor of the Jewish returnees. Verse 12 seems like an interruption as well, since it asks a question about something not previously mentioned in the text, and it is therefore almost universally declared by the diachronically-minded to be secondary as well. To make matters worse, the Hebrew of the verse in question is considered so desperately difficult that at least one interpreter has declared that it was made deliberately obscure, to prevent the reader from understanding the vision’s religiously subversive 1

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message.1 One difficulty in verse 12 is that the two “branches” which catch the prophet’s eye are actually not branches at all in the Hebrew, but šibbālîm, a word which in all other contexts in the Hebrew Bible designates either “spikes” (of grain) or “streams.” 2 Most interpreters take the word here to be “spikes” as a metaphorical designation of the olive-laden branch-ends of an olive tree, although the context also allows a reference to the “streams” of oil which fuel the lamps of the menorah. 3 Another problem in this verse is that what is said to be poured out is actually not oil at all in the MT, but gold (Hebrew zāhāb)—a problem which the NRSV solves by simply replacing the offending word with a word for oil. A third difficulty (to mention no more) is the meaning of ṣantĕrôt, an enigmatic hapax legomenon without any known cognates. 4 It is this difficulty which will be the subject of the present essay. To begin with, it will be useful to take a look at the history of interpretation of this obscure word. In an Appendix I have drawn up a list of the thirty-odd proposed interpretations that are known to me, running from the LXX to the recent English translation of Koehler-Baumgartner’s lexicon. In each case I have tried to identify the first occurrence of a given interpretation; I have not listed other scholars or versions that may have subsequently adopted it. It will be observed that a good number of the 1 D.L. Petersen, Haggai and Zechariah 1–8 (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1984), 215 (note e), 236–237. 2 See HAL s.v. 3 That both meanings of šibbolet are in play is suggested by M.G. Kline, Glory

in our Midst. A Biblical-Theological Reading of Zechariah’s Night Visions

(Overland Park, Kans.: Two Age Press, 2001), 163. The meaning “spikes” (metaphorically for branches) is favored by BDB and HAL s.v. (Olivenbaumähren), JB, NIV, NRSV, and many others. The meaning “streams” is favored by J. Calvin,

A Commentary on the Twelve Minor Prophets. Vol. 5: Zechariah and Malachi

(Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1986), 122, Petersen, Haggai and Zechariah 1– 8, 215, 235, R.B. Chisholm Jr., Handbook on the Prophets (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2002), 462, M. Boda, Haggai, Zechariah (NIV Application Commentary; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2004), 272, and A.R. Petterson, Behold Your King: The Hope for the House of David in the Book of Zechariah (NewYork/London: T & T Clark International, 2009), 77. 4 The single exception is the Aramaic cognate ṣntryn found in some manuscripts of the medieval Targum Sheni to Esther (1:2), but this is clearly based on ṣantĕrôt in Zech 4:12, and thus has no independent value. See B. Grossfeld, The Targum

Sheni to the Book of Esther. A critical edition based on MS. Sassoon 282 with critical apparatus (New York: Sepher-Hermon Press, 1994), 29. Note that

Grossfeld emends ṣntryn to ṣnwwryn, “hooks” (p. 159).

MEANING OF ṢANTĔRÔT (ZECH 4:12)

3

proposed translations are themselves debated as to their meaning, notably the Targum. In my judgment the other three main ancient versions (LXX, Peshitta, Vulgate) are all to be understood as referring metaphorically to lamp spouts (that is, “wick-niches”)—but that too is debated. The ancient renderings do not allow us to conclude that they are based on a Vorlage different from the MT. One option I have not listed is that chosen by Wellhausen in 1892,5 and Tigchelaar in 1996.6 It is the option of docta ignorantia, the admission that we simply do not know what the word means, and therefore cannot translate it. This was essentially already the position of Luther, who wrote the following about his own rendering of ṣantĕrôt as schneutzen or “snuffers”: What the two snuffers are, however, and what form they took, I really do not know, and I am open to anyone’s advice on the matter. It is beyond my competence, nor do I find anyone who can give us certainty. I have translated it into German as follows: “the two snuffers, with which one trims [the lamps]”—but only to avoid leaving a gap in the text. And I have taken as my model Moses’ lampstand in Exodus [25:]38, which also had snuffers.7

The list of suggested interpretations shows the wide range of divergent exegetical proposals, but it obscures the fact that one of them has dominated all others in modern Hebrew lexicography, namely that ṣantĕrôt means “pipes,” “conduits,” “tubes,” or the like. This is the interpretation that is found in almost all contemporary Bible versions, commentaries and J. Wellhausen, Die kleinen Propheten übersetzt und erklärt (4. unveränderte Auflage; Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1963 [orig. 1892]), 42, 182–83. 6 E.J.C. Tigchelaar, Prophets of Old and the Day of the End. Zechariah, the Book of Watchers and Apocalyptic (OTS, 35; Leiden: Brill, 1996), 41. 7 D. Martin Luthers Werke: kritische Gesammtausgabe (120 vols.; Weimar: Böhlau, 1883–2009) 23.565: “Was aber die zwei gülden schneutzen sind und wie sie sind gestalt gewest, weis ich warlich nicht und lasse hie raten, wer da kan. Es ist uber meine kunst, finde auch niemand, der uns darynn gewis mache. Ich habs verdeudscht also: ‘zwo schneutzen, damit man abbricht’, alleine das ich nicht ein fenster muste ym text lassen und habe dem leuchter Mose nach geomet Exo. 38., der auch schneutzen hatte.” For the meaning of schneutzen and abbrechen in this passage, see the “Worterklärungen zur Lutherbibel von 1545,” in H. Volz (ed.), D. 5

Martin Luther, Die gantze Heilige Schrift Deudsch 1545 / Auffs new zugericht. Anhang und Dokumente (Munich: Rogner & Bernhard, 1972), 299*–397*. The English translation of this passage in H.C. Oswald (ed.), Luther’s Works. Vol. 20: Lectures on the Minor Prophets III. Zechariah (Saint Louis: Concordia, 1973), 230, is unreliable.

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lexica.8 Many Hebrew reference works do not even acknowledge that other meanings have been suggested.9 In the Hebrew spoken in Israel today it has acquired the technical meaning “catheter,” clearly based on this lexicographical consensus. 10 An apparent exception to the consensus is found in the English translation of Koehler-Baumgartner’s lexicon (no. 30 in the Appendix), but this exception turns out to be based on a mistranslation of the German original, which actually continues to give the meaning as Röhren, “pipes.” Widespread though it may be, this interpretation of ṣantĕrôt is far from assured, because it appears to go back to a sixteenth-century guess, and is based on a highly dubious etymological connection with the word ṣinnôr, also understood to mean “pipe.” As far as I have been able to discover, the earliest example of the “pipe” interpretation is found in the HebrewAramaic Vocabularium by Alfonso de Zamora that was included in the Complutensian Polyglot (no. 11 in the Appendix). It is there found under the entry for ṣinnôr, and both words are given the meaning canalis.11 This unprecedented semantic guess, as well as the assumed connection with ṣinnôr, have been repeated in dictionaries ever since. Yet it is a hypothesis built on sand. For one thing, the meaning of ṣinnôr (which occurs only twice in the MT) is itself almost as debated as that of ṣantĕrôt. 12 For another, the suggested etymological connection between 8 So for example NAB (“channels”), TEV (“pipes”), NIV (“pipes”), NJPS (“tubes”), the New Living Translation (“tubes”); W. Rudolph, Haggai—Sacharja 1– 8—Sacharja 9–14—Maleachi (KAT; Gütersloh: Gerd Mohn, 1976), 103 (“Röhren”), C.L. Meyers and E.M. Meyers, Haggai, Zechariah 1–8 (AB, 25B; New York: Doubleday, 1987), 257 (“conduits”), R. Hanhart, Sacharja (BKAT, XIV/7; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1990–1998), 253 (“Röhren”), I. WilliPlein, Haggai, Sacharja, Maleachi (ZBK, 24.4; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 2007), 91 (“Goldröhren”); BDB (“pipes”), HAL s.v. (“Röhren”), and L. Alonso Schökel, Diccionario bíblico hebreo-español (Madrid: Editorial Trotta, 1994) s.v. (“tubos”). 9 So for example BDB, HAL, and Alonso Schökel, Diccionario. 10 See R. Alcalay, The Complete Hebrew-English Dictionary (4 vols.; Tel-Aviv: Massadah, 1963) s.v. 11 See Vocabularium hebraicum atque chaldaicum totius veteris testamenti in Volume 6 of Biblia polyglotta complutensia (1514–1517; repr., Rome: Typographia Polyglotta Pontificiae Universitatis Gregorianae, 1983–1984) s.v. (folio cxxxvii, recto). 12 See HAL s.v. and T. Kleven, “The Use of ṢNR in Ugaritic and 2 Samuel V 8: Hebrew Usage and Comparative Philology,” VT 44 (1994), 195–204. Some of the proposed meanings of ṣinnôr surveyed by Kleven are “throat,” “penis,” “joint,” and “hook.”

MEANING OF ṢANTĔRÔT (ZECH 4:12)

5

the two words assumes that ṣantĕrôt contains an infixed taw after the second radical of the assumed trilateral root—something that otherwise never happens in Hebrew. 13 As Friedrich Delitzsch put it in 1886, ṣantĕrôt construed as a derivative of a root ‫ צנר‬constitutes a “monstrous nominal form.” 14 In short, the traditional appeal to ṣinnôr to justify translating ṣantĕrôt as “pipes” has very little to commend it. My own alternative proposal is based on two assumptions. The first is that the phrase bĕyad, which comes immediately before ṣantĕrôt, should be taken in its usual sense, and therefore most likely introduces personal agents. The second is that ṣantĕrôt has to do with the processing of olives to produce oil. Once these two points are admitted, I would submit that the suggestion that ṣantĕrôt means “oil-pressers” is a plausible one. Let me elaborate briefly on each of these two assumptions. Although bĕyad is a common Hebrew phrase, meaning literally “in the hand of,” and then generally “by” or “through,” it has been given some strained alternative interpretation in this verse, presumably because of the difficulty of the immediately following noun ṣantĕrôt. The most common of these interpretations of bĕyad is that it means “beside,” a view which is first found in Jerome’s Vulgate (iuxta),15 and which has been adopted by a host of subsequent interpreters, from Rashi to contemporary lexica.16 However, it has often been pointed out that it is difficult to find bĕyad used in this sense elsewhere, 17 and Jerome himself abandoned the Vulgate rendering in 12F

13F

14F

15F

16F

13 See Tigchelaar, Prophets of Old, 26, note 42. The infixed letters which are occasionally found in Hebrew do not include taw; see GKC §85w. An infixed taw does occur in Akkadian nouns, but never after the second radical; see GAG §56n. 14 F. Delitzsch, Prolegomena eines neuen hebräisch-aramäischen Wörterbuchs zum Alten Testament (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1886), 115, note 1 (“monströse Nominalform”). 15 Here Jerome was perhaps influenced by Symmachus’ more literal rendering ἀνὰ χεîρα, “close by”; see J. Ziegler, Duodecim prophetae (Septuaginta. Vetus Testamentum Graecum Auctoritate Societatis Litterarum Gottingensis editum, XIII; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1943), 299. 16 For Rashi, see A.J. Rosenberg, The Book of the Twelve Prophets. A New English Translation of the Text, Rashi and a Commentary Digest (2 vols.; New York: The Judaica Press, 1988), 336. Similarly BDB s.v. ‫יד‬, 5d, Alonso Schökel, Diccionario s.v. yād, 1b., E. Jenni, Die hebräischen Präpositionen. Band I: Die Präposition Beth (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1992), 224. Among recent English Bible versions the NEB, NIV, and TEV have “beside.” 17 See E.W. Hengstenberg, Christology of the Old Testament and a Commentary on Messianic Predictions (1847; repr., Grand Rapids: Kregel, 1970), 283, note 2, E.B. Pusey, The Minor Prophets with a Commentary Explanatory and

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his commentary on Zechariah, substituting super for iuxta. 18 Ironically, the opinion that bĕyad must here mean “beside” is so entrenched that Kahana suggested emending it to bĕṣad, which does have the required meaning.19 Another common interpretation is that bĕyad means “through,” which is indeed a well-attested meaning of the phrase, but which here runs into a grammatical difficulty. Interpreters who adopt the meaning “through” generally construe the participle hammĕrîqîm (with the article) as the predicate of the clause, yielding a translation like that of the NRSV: “which pour out the oil through the two golden pipes.” 20 The problem with this construal is that the article is incompatible with such a predicate use of the participle. 21 The many commentators and translators who read the clause in this way appear to have overlooked this grammatical difficulty.22 We can Practical and Introductions to the Several Books (2 vols.; New York: Funk & Wagnalls, 1885), 2.363, note 11, E. Sellin, Das Zwölfprophetenbuch übersetzt und erklärt (Zweite und dritte umgearbeitete Auflage; 2 vols.; Leipzig: Scholl, 1929– 1930), 510, O. Keel, Jahwe-Visionen und Siegelkunst. Eine neue Deutung der Majestätsschilderungen in Jes 6, Ez 1 und 10 und Sach 4 (SBS, 84/85; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1977), 309, D. Barthélemy, Critique textuelle de l’Ancien Testament. Tome 3: Ézékiel, Daniel et les 12 Prophètes (OBO, 50/3; Fribourg: Éditions Universitaires/Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1992), 955. 18 See S. Hieronymi Presbyteri Opera. Pars I: Opera Exegetica 6: Commentarii in Prophetas Minores (CCSL; Turnholt: Brepols, 1970), 783 (line 225), 784 (line 243). 19 A. Kahana, “Haggai, Zechariah” in The Book of the Twelve (Tel Aviv: Mekorot, 1930), 150 [Hebrew]. 20 Another construal is that of W.H. Rose, Zemah and Zerubbabel. Messianic Expectations in the Early Postexilic Period (JSOTSup, 304; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000), 184, who translates: “What are the two tops of the olive trees which [are] through the golden pipes which empty the gold from them.” This is grammatically possible, but evokes the improbable image of pipes emptying golden oil from treetops that are inserted lengthwise inside them. 21 On the absence of the article with participles used predicatively, see C.L. Seow, A Grammar for Biblical Hebrew (Nashville: Abingdon, 1987), 49: “When the participle is used as a predicative adjective, it comes after the noun and agrees with the noun in gender and number, but it never takes the definite article.” Cf. GKC §116q, B.K. Waltke and M. O’Connor, An Introduction to Biblical Hebrew Syntax (Eisenbrauns: Winona Lake, Ind., 1990), §37.5b, P. Joüon and T. Muraoka, A Grammar of Biblical Hebrew (2 vols.; Rome: Editrice Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 2003), §137l, and B.T. Arnold and J.H. Choi, A Guide to Biblical Hebrew Syntax (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 79. 22 Some recent examples are Petersen, Haggai and Zechariah 1–8, 215, 236, Meyers and Meyers, Haggai, Zechariah 1–8 (AB, 25B; New York: Doubleday,

MEANING OF ṢANTĔRÔT (ZECH 4:12)

7

save this construal only by deleting the offending article, as is done by Sellin and Rudolph. 23 Other attempts to make sense of bĕyad here are those of the NKJV, which translates “into the receptacles of,” and Keel, who takes it to mean “in the power of.” 24 However, all of these more or less far-fetched interpretations are unnecessary if we understand the following noun ṣantĕrôt to refer, not to physical objects, but to personal agents. As Pusey pointed out long ago in his comments on this passage, bĕyad in the Hebrew Bible is almost always used of personal agents. He calculated that, out of the 277 places where the phrase occurs, only three are an exception to this general rule.25 The text here is therefore most naturally translated “in the hands of the two ṣantĕrôt,” with the suggestion that the latter are personal beings. Note that the phrase bĕyad was already translated this way in the LXX (ἐν ταῖς χερσí), and that an interpretation of the ṣantĕrôt as personal beings has been previously proposed by Zer-Kavod. 26 The second assumption undergirding my proposal is that the two ṣantĕrôt have to do with the processing of olives so produce oil. This is a reasonable assumption given the context of the fifth vision. It is clear that 1987), 228, 257, T. Pola, Das Priestertum bei Sacharja (Forschungen zum Alten Testament, 35; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003), 63, and Boda, Haggai, Zechariah, 272. In English versions this construal goes back to the Geneva Bible, and is found also in the KJV, RSV, JB, NAB, NJPSV, and the New Living Translation. Among the few commentaries to point out the grammatical difficulty is that of the Cambridge Hebraist W.H. Lowe, The Hebrew Student’s Commentary on Zechariah (London: MacMillan and Co., 1892), 47. 23 See Sellin, Zwölfprophetenbuch, 510 and Rudolph, Haggai...Maleachi, 104. The difficulty was also felt by P. Haupt, who proposed reading the article as the interrogative particle instead, and then deleting the first letter of ‫ ;מעליהם‬see his “The Visions of Zechariah,” JBL 32 (1913), 107–122, here 117 n. 43. A further unnoticed difficulty of the NRSV construal is that in strict grammar one would expect the participle to have the feminine form ‫מריקות‬, to agree with the feminine noun ‫שׁבלים‬, “spikes.” 24 Keel, Jahwe-Visionen, 309. He is followed by Barthélemy, Critique textuelle 3, 955 and J. Voss, Die Menorah. Gestalt und Funktion des Leuchters im Tempel zu Jerusalem (OBO, 128; Freiburg Schweiz: Universitäts-verlag/Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993), 45. 25 Pusey, Minor Prophets, 363–64. Pusey takes the three exceptions (Job 8:4; Prov 18:21; Isa 64:6) to refer to personifications. Oddly enough, he does not draw the conclusion that the ṣantĕrôt are therefore personal. 26 M. Zer-Kavod, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi (Jerusalem: Kiryat Sepher, 1968), 83 [Hebrew]; cf. Appendix, no. 26. Similarly Haupt, “Visions,” 122, who inserts šēdîm, “genii,” after bĕyad šĕnê. Note that the distributive singular of the Hebrew is appropriately translated “in the hands” (plural) in English, as it is in the LXX.

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the two olive trees are related to the menorah as the suppliers of olive oil to its lamps, but there is no mention of how the olive oil is produced. We can of course imagine that the transfer of oil from the trees to the lamps occurs of its own accord, without any personal agency by which oil is extracted from olives, but that is not the most plausible scenario. It is telling that three of the four medieval Jewish interpretations of ṣantĕrôt (nos. 7, 8 and 19 in the Appendix), followed by the early modern exegetes Oecolampadius and Coccejus (nos. 12 and 17), assumed that it had to do with the equipment that was normally used to press out olive oil. Our proposal is therefore as follows. If the ṣantĕrôt were personal beings, and if they were involved in the production of olive oil, then they are most likely “oil-pressers,” especially since the presumably olive-bearing spikes of the olive trees are “in the hands” of these individuals.27 Admittedly, at this stage of our argument this proposal can be no more than a reasonable conjecture. However, if we adopt it as a working hypothesis we discover that a number of other features of this enigmatic text fall into place. I have in mind in particular three illuminating effects which this hypothesis produces: (1) the first zāhāb, “gold,” now functions as an objective genitive, (2) the clause after ṣantĕrôt now functions as an explanatory gloss defining its meaning, and (3) this verse now turns out to contain an intertextual echo of the cupbearer’s dream in Genesis 40. Let me say a few words about each. It has been universally assumed by exegetes that the zāhāb of the construct chain ṣantĕrôt hazzāhāb refers to the material from which the ṣantĕrôt are made, typically yielding the translation “the two golden pipes,” as in the NRSV. Yet its second occurrence in this verse (at least in the unemended MT) seems to use zāhāb as a bold metaphor for oil; what is poured forth from the olive branches is said to be gold. However, this would mean that the same word zāhāb is being used in two quite different senses in the same verse, first referring literally to a precious metal, and then metaphorically as an agricultural product. 28 This apparent incongruity has

The apparently feminine ending may seem to count against this conclusion, but we need to remember, given the numeral šĕnê which precedes it, that ṣantĕrôt is grammatically masculine, and that many masculine nouns have plurals in -ôt (for example ʾābôt, “fathers,” and paḥôt, “governors”). 28 See A.S. van der Woude, “Die beiden Söhne des Öls (Sach. 4:14): Messianische Gestalten?,” M.S.H.G. Heerma van Voss et al. (eds.), Travels in the World of the Old Testament. Studies Presented to Professor M. A. Beek (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1974), 262–268, here 266. 27

MEANING OF ṢANTĔRÔT (ZECH 4:12)

9

led many scholars, including the translators of the NRSV, to emend the second instance of zāhāb to a Hebrew word for “oil.” 29 However, if ṣantĕrôt means “oil-pressers,” then ṣantĕrôt hazzāhāb means “pressers of ‘gold’,” with zāhāb functioning grammatically as an objective genitive, referring to the metaphorical “gold” which oil-pressers squeeze out of olives. In that case both occurrences of zāhāb in this verse are a metaphor for olive oil (just as we today speak of another kind of oil as “black gold” 30), and there is no need for emendation. Secondly, if ṣantĕrôt means “oil-pressers,” it turns out that the participial construction which follows it is an explanatory gloss telling us ֶ ‫יקים ֵמ ֲﬠ ֵל‬ ִ ‫ ַה ְמּ ִר‬, literally “the ones what it means. The Hebrew text is ‫יהם ַהזָּ ָהב‬ who empty out the ‘gold’ from on them” (i.e. from the olives on the spikes).31 For readers who might have difficulty understanding the phrase “the two ṣantĕrôt of gold,” with its objective genitive and its bold metaphor, the three following words (to be understood grammatically as standing in apposition to the phrase in question) make it unmistakably clear what the meaning is: the ṣantĕrôt are the ones who empty out the golden oil from (‫)מ־‬ ֵ the olives on (‫)ﬠל‬ ַ the spikes.32 The explanatory nature of these words becomes even clearer if we vocalize the participle as ‫יקים‬ ִ ‫( ַהמּ ִֹר‬hammōrîqîm) rather than ‫יקים‬ ִ ‫( ַה ְמּ ִר‬hammĕrîqîm), thus understanding it as the Hiphil of ‫ירק‬, “spit out,” not of ‫ריק‬, “be empty.” 33 In that case the mysterious workers are 30F

31F

32F

29 Usually ‫יצהר‬, sometimes ‫שׁמן‬. See D. Barthélemy, Critique textuelle 3, 954. The proposal to read ‫ יצהר‬goes back at least to Archbishop Thomas Secker in the eighteenth century; see W. Newcome, An Attempt Towards an Improved Version, A Metrical Arrangement, and An Explanation of the Twelve Minor Prophets (2nd ed.; London: Pontefract, 1809), 286. 30 See Merriam Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary. Tenth Edition (Markham, Ont.: Thomas Allen & Son, 1999), s.v. “black gold.” 31 The pronominal suffix ‫ ־הם‬here functions as a third-person common pronoun (cf. GKC §135o) referring to the feminine noun ‫( שׁבלים‬as it does in Gen 41:23). The same suffix refers to feminine nouns also in Zech 5:9 and 11:5. 32 The force of the compound preposition in ‫ מעליהם‬is not captured in most versions, which generally take it to mean simply “from” (so the NASB) or “out of” (so the KJV), or omit the phrase altogether (so the NRSV). On the usage of ‫מעל‬ see GKC §119b, d, BDB s.v. ‫על‬, IV,2, HAL s.v. ‫על‬, 8. 33 This vocalization is attested in the history of the text; Abravanel quotes the participle in the plene spelling ‫המוריקים‬. See Nakh: Mikra’ot Gedolot “Orim Gedolim” (8 vols.; Jerusalem: Even Israel Institute, 1993), 8.638 [Hebrew]. Tigchelaar has also suggested this vocalization (Prophets of Old, 41), but takes it to be a form of the other root ‫ירק‬, “be green, yellow.” The fact that the Hiphil of this root in the sense “spit out” is not attested is probably mere coincidence.

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AL WOLTERS

said to express—squeeze out—the golden oil (literally: cause it to be spit out 34) from the olives. But even if we retain the vocalization of the MT, the meaning is essentially the same. For our third point, we need to visualize the action depicted in our verse if ṣantĕrôt does mean “oil-pressers.” We see two previously unnoticed workers, the ṣantĕrôt, each holding in his hand one of the olive-laden branch-ends of the olive trees, who “express the gold [i.e. the oil] from [the olives] on them.” This is certainly an unusual way of producing oil, but it has a striking parallel in the grape-pressing of the cupbearer’s dream in the Joseph story. The cupbearer describes his dream as follows: 9 In my dream there was a vine before me, 10 and on the vine there were three branches. As soon as it budded, its blossoms came out and the clusters ripened into grapes. 11 Pharaoh’s cup was in my hand; and I took the grapes and pressed them into Pharaoh’s cup, and placed the cup in Pharaoh’s hand (Gen 40:9–11, NRSV).

In both the vision of Zechariah 4 and the dream of Genesis 40 the berries (olives in the vision, grapes in the dream) are taken in hand as they grow on the branches, and are manually pressed on the spot to deliver the liquid product (oil in the vision, wine in the dream) directly to its intended recipient (menorah in the vision, cup in the dream), thus bypassing the laborious procedure by which the juice of these fruits was normally processed for human use. These remarkable parallels between the vision on Zechariah and the dream in Genesis come into focus only if ṣantĕrôt refers to the workers who press out the oil from the olives. I take it that these three exegetical clarifications have the effect of further supporting my working hypothesis. In the light of this, it is significant that there may be previously unsuspected support for our proposed translation in a bit of evidence recorded in the Syro-Hexapla, the Syriac translation of the LXX done by Paul of Tella circa 617 CE. This literal Syriac translation often has marginal notes recording alternative renderings from the so-called Minor Greek versions (Aquila, Theodotion, and Symmachus). On Zech 4:12 there is a note to the effect that “Theodotion” has an alternative to the LXX rendering of ṣantĕrôt.35 The On this construction (a causative Hiphil with a single non-personal object), see Waltke-O’Connor, Hebrew Syntax, §27.3(c); cf. M. Ben-Asher, “Causative Hipʿîl Verbs with Double Objects in Biblical Hebrew,” HAR 2 (1978), 11–19, esp. 15–16, and T.O. Lambdin, Introduction to Biblical Hebrew (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1971) 211 (§157a). 35 See A.M. Ceriani, Codex Syro-Hexaplaris Ambrosianus photographice editus 34

MEANING OF ṢANTĔRÔT (ZECH 4:12)

11

note does not tell us what Theodotion’s Greek was, but gives its Syriac equivalent, namely dʿṭmtʾ, that is, “of the thighs” (see no. 4 of the Appendix). This reading has been duly retroverted into Greek in the apparatus of Ziegler’s Göttingen edition of the Minor Prophets as μηρῶν.36 However, it makes little sense in the context. What could it mean that the olive branches are in the hands of the two thighs of gold? I would suggest that the dʿṭmtʾ of the Syro-Hexapla can be plausibly interpreted in another way. The root ʿṭm may be a variant of the root ʿṭn, which is well-attested in Hebrew as referring to the pressing of olives.37 It is possible that this root also exists in Syriac, since it occurs in at least one other branch of Aramaic. 38 In that case, the Syriac rendering of Theodotion’s interpretation of ṣantĕrôt might well mean “oil-pressers” (perhaps reflecting Greek ἐλαιουργῶν), and removes the difficulty of the anomalous “thighs.” If this interpretation of the Syro-Hexapla is correct, then we have explicit support from one of the ancient versions for the meaning I am proposing. I turn now to a final proposal. Since it can be made plausible on other grounds that ṣantĕrôt means “oil-pressers,” it is significant that the Hiphil of the verb ṣāhar is generally understood to mean “to press out oil,” a denominative verb from the noun yiṣhār, “fresh oil.” 39 It is widely agreed that this use of the verb is found in Job 24:11, where it stands in parallelism to the verb dārak, and where it also seems to refer, as here, to the pressing of olives “on the spot,” i.e. in the immediate proximity of the olive trees themselves. Given the analogy with agent nouns like dārôkôt, “winepressers” (a class of nouns which is well-attested in Mishnaic Hebrew 40), it (Milan: Bibliotheca Ambrosiana, 1874), ad locum (folio 110, verso). 36 Ziegler, Duodecim prophetae, 299. The retroversion μηρῶν is found also in F. Field, Origenis Hexaplorum Quae Supersunt sive Veterum Interpretum

Graecorum in Totum Vetus Testamentum Fragmenta. Tomus II: Jobus-Malachias, Auctarium et Indices (1875; repr., Hildesheim: Olms, 1964), 1020. 37 See HAL s.vv. ‫ עטם‬and ‫עטן‬, and M. Moreshet, A Lexicon of the New Verbs in Tannaitic Hebrew (Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 1980), 260 [Hebrew]. See also F. Goldmann, Der Ölbau in Palästina zur Zeit der Mišnâh (Pressburg:

Adolf Alkalay & Sohn, 1907), 34, note 6: “In übertragenem Sinne steht ‫ עטן‬auch für den ganzen Prozess des Pressens. T. Scheb. 4,19 (67) (parallel zu ‫ דרך‬von Trauben).” See also E.A. Knauf, “Zum Text von Hi 21, 23–26,” BN 7 (1978), 22– 24, who argues that the ‫ ֲﬠ ִטין‬of Job 21:24 means “olive.” 38 See the entry ‫מעטן‬, “olive vat,” in M. Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic (Ramat-Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 1990). 39 See BDB, HAL and Alonso Shökel, Diccionario, s.v. 40 On dārôkôt and the nominal pattern it illustrates, see M.H. Segal, A Grammar

12

AL WOLTERS

is an attractive hypothesis to suppose that the intractable ‫ ַצנְ ְתרוֹת‬of our verse was originally ‫*צהוֹרוֹת‬ ָ (ṣāhôrôt), which would have precisely the meaning we have been proposing, namely “oil-pressers.” This form would exemplify the Hebrew nominal pattern qātōl, which yields such agent nouns as bāḥôn, “assayer,” ḥāmôṣ, “oppressor,” and ʿāšôq, “oppressor.” 41 Although the plural of these nouns is not attested elsewhere in the MT, 42 we know from post-biblical Hebrew that, though masculine, they regularly form their plural in -ôt. 43 Since ṣantĕrôt is also a masculine noun with a plural in -ôt, and since our argument above has established that it is likely an agent noun having to do with oil-pressing, which in Hebrew is very likely designated by the root ṢHR, it may well be that ṣantĕrôt is the corruption of an original *ṣāhōrōt. There may even be a trace of this postulated form in the transliteration of our word which Jerome gives, namely sinthoroth (note the second vowel). 44 If this hypothesis is correct, then two further points follow. In the first place, ṣantĕrôt turns out to be a vox nihili or “ghost-word,” a lexeme which never actually existed in the Hebrew language. It would be the result of reading the letters ‫ נת‬instead of ‫הו‬. 45 Although this particular confusion has not been noticed elsewhere, we know that scribal mistakes of this sort are not uncommon in the history of the biblical text. 46 In the second place, 40F

41F

42F

43F

4F

45F

of Mishnaic Hebrew (Oxford: Clarendon, 1927), 106 (§235). Segal takes this form to be based on the nominal pattern qâtūl. 41 See GKC §84ak. Since the initial vowel is not reduced in the plural, it may be based on Aramaic actant nouns of the pattern qātol; see J. Fox, Semitic Noun Patterns (HSS, 52; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2003), 184 and 242. 42 Note that yāqûš, “fowler,” plural yĕqûšîm (Jer 5:26), represents another nominal pattern; see GKC §84am. 43 See Segal, Mishnaic Hebrew, 106 (§235) and 130–31 (§288), A. Bendavid, Biblical Hebrew and Mishnaic Hebrew (2 vols.; Tel Aviv: Devir, 1967), 2.445 [Hebrew], and A. Sáenz-Badillos, A History of the Hebrew Language (trans. J. Elwolde; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 187. The pattern is still common in Modern Hebrew; see L. Glinert, The Grammar of Modern Hebrew (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 454. 44 Jerome, In Prophetas Minores, 784 (line 244). 45 Or just ‫ ה‬if the original spelling was defective. 46 See E. Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible (Minneapolis: Fortress/Assen: Van Gorcum, 1992), 249. The postulated confusion of nun-taw with he-waw would not be surprising, given the presence in each of these pairs (at least in the standard square script) of three vertical strokes. If the tops of the letters were missing or obscured, the one sequence of letters could be easily mistaken for

MEANING OF ṢANTĔRÔT (ZECH 4:12)

13

the postulated form *ṣāhōrōt would now find an echo in verse 14, where we read that the two olive-bearing spikes in the hands of these *ṣāhōrōt are identified as “the two sons of yiṣhār.” The connection established by this repetition of the root ‫ צהר‬would embed verse 12 more firmly in its context, and further support the view that the “sons of oil” are not “anointed ones” which the spikes symbolize (so the NRSV), but are simply an idiomatic way of referring to the oil-rich spikes themselves.47 What is in the hands of the oil-pressers is these physical branch-ends of the olive trees, not anointed persons. There is much more that could be said about Zech 4:12, especially its intricate and largely unnoticed wordplay. 48 But enough has been said to make the case that ṣantĕrôt, whether or not it is a corruption of an earlier *ṣāhōrōt, means “oil-pressers.” 49 In the light of our entire preceding discussion, I would propose that the question in Zech 4:12 be translated as follows: What are the two spikes of the olive trees, which are in the hands of the two pressers of ‘gold’—the ones who express the ‘gold’ from (the olives) on them? 46F

47F

48F

APPENDIX PREVIOUSLY PROPOSED INTERPRETATIONS OF ṢANTĔRÔT (ZECH 4:12)

the other. 47 For the idiom with bēn, see BDB s.v., 8 and GKC §128v. Compare Isa 5:1, where ‫ קרן בן־שׁמן‬is rendered “a very fertile hill” in the NRSV. That the “sons of oil,” in the context of the vision of the menorah and olive trees, refer to the “spikes” or branch-ends of the latter, is pointed out by R.H. Kennett, “Zechariah,” in A.S. Peake (ed.), A Commentary on the Bible (London: T. C. and E.C. Jack, 1929), 575–87, here 577. Note that already the Geneva Bible of 1560 translated ‫בני‬ ‫ היצהר‬here simply as “olive branches.” However, the words which follow (“who stand by the Lord of the whole earth”) suggest that “sons of oil” has a secondary level of meaning as well. 48 See A. Wolters, “Word Play in Zechariah,” S.B. Noegel (ed.), Puns and

Pundits. Word Play in the Hebrew Bible and Ancient Near Eastern Literature

(Bethesda, Md.: CDL Press, 2000), 223–30, here 227–30. 49 Note that the argument for the meaning “oil-pressers” stands on its own merits; it is independent of this proposed emendation. In fact, in my own research the semantic conclusion preceded the text-critical conjecture.

14

AL WOLTERS 1. LXX: μυξωτῆρες, 50 “nostrils,” i.e. “lamp spouts.” 51 2. Peshitta: ‫נחירין‬, 52 “noses,” i.e. “lamp spouts.” 53 3. Targum: ‫אסקריטון‬, 54 “pourers’?55 “lamp-nozzles”?56 “bowls”?57 4. Theodotion teste Syro-Hcxapla: ʿṭmtʾ,58 “thighs.” 5. Symmachus: ἐπιχυτῆρες,59 “beakers.” 6. Jerome [ca. 400]: rostra, 60 “snouts,” i.e. “lamp spouts.” 61 7. Rashi [11th c.]: ‫כמין עריבות ועדשׁים שׁל בית הבד‬, 62 “like the 51F

52F

53F

54F

5F

56F

57F

58F

59F

60F

61F

Ziegler, Duodecim prophetae, 299 (μυξωτήρων). See PGL s.v. μυξωτήρ; cf. LSJ s.vv. μυκτήρ (“metaph., of a lamp-nozzle”), μύξα (“lamp-wick”), δίμυξος (“with two wicks”). 52 A. Gelston and T. Sprey (eds.), The Old Testament in Syriac according to the Peshitta Version. Part III,4: Dodekapropheton—Daniel-Bel-Draco (Leiden: Brill, 1980), 78. 53 See J. Payne Smith, Compendious Syriac Dictionary (Oxford: Clarendon, 1903) s.v. nḥîrā (“nozzle of a lamp”). 54 A. Sperber, The Bible in Aramaic. Vol. III: The Latter Prophets According to Targum Jonathan (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1992), 483. Notice that the words ‫דביד תרין‬ ‫ אסקריטון דדהב‬are not printed in Sperber’s text, but are listed in his second critical apparatus as a variant found in some manuscripts of the Targum. His third apparatus also records the variant reading ‫אסקיטירון‬. 55 So S. Krauss, Griechische und lateinische Lehnwörter im Talmud, Midrasch und Targum (2 vols.; 1898–1899; repr., Hildesheim: Olms, 1964), 2.97, reading ‫אסקירטווב‬, and taking this as the equivalent of Greek χυτήρων. 56 So M. Jastrow, A Dictionary of the Targumim, the Talmud Babli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature (1943; repr., New York: Judaica Press, 1996) s.v. ‫יטוָ ן‬ ָ ‫א ְס ְק ִר‬, ִ taking this to be a corruption of ‫סוֹט ִירן‬ ֵ ‫ = ִמ ְק‬μυξωτῆρες. 57 So R.P. Gordon in K.J. Cathcart and R.P. Gordon (eds.), The Targum of the Minor Prophets (ArBib, 14; Wilmington, Del.: Michael Glazier, 1989), 195, assuming that the Aramaic word in question reflects the Greek ἐσχαρίς, “brazier,” “fire-pan.” 58 Ceriani, Codex Syro-Hexaplaris, ad locum (folio 110, verso). 59 Field, Origenis Hexaplorum, 1020; Ziegler, Duodecim prophetae, 299. 60 R. Weber (ed.), Biblia Sacra iuxta Vulgatam Versionem (2 vols.; Editio altera emendata; Stuttgart: Württembergische Bibelanstalt, 1975), ad locum. 61 P.G.W. Glare (ed.), Oxford Latin Dictionary (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983) s.v. rostrum, 2a (“applied to the nozzle of a lamp”). 62 I. Maarsen (ed.), Parschandatha. The Commentary of Raschi on the Prophets and Hagiographs. Part I: The Minor Prophets (Amsterdam: Hertzberger, 1930), ad locum. See also Rosenberg, Twelve Prophets, 333. 50 51

MEANING OF ṢANTĔRÔT (ZECH 4:12)

15

vats and troughs of the oil-press.” 8. Ibn Ezra [12th c.]: ‫צנתרות שׁנדרכו בהם זיתים‬, 63 “ṣantĕrôt in which olives are pressed.” 9. David Kimchi [13th c.]: ‫כלים כמין צפחת‬, 64 “vessels like a jar.” 10. Abravanel [15th c.]: ‫הכלים שׁהשׁמן נעשׂה בהם‬, 65 “the vessels in which oil is made.” 11. de Zamora [1517]: canalis,66 “pipe.” 12. Oecolampadius [1527]: rostra = torcularcula,67 “little (olive) presses.” 13. Luther [1532]: Schneutzen, 68 “(lamp) snuffers,” i.e. “trimmers.” 14. Ribera [1571]: unci,69 “hooks.” 15. Montanus [1571]: canthari, 70 “tankards.” 16. à Castro [1650]: fistulae aduncae,71 “curved pipes.” 62F

63F

64F

65F

6F

67F

68F

69F

70F

Rosenberg, Twelve Prophets, 336. Cf. T. Muraoka and Z. Shavitsky, “Abraham Ibn Ezra’s Biblical Hebrew Lexicon: The Minor Prophets II,” AbrNahrain 29 (1991), 106–28 (117). 64 Rosenberg, Twelve Prophets, 336. Cf. A.M. M‘Caul, Rabbi David Kimchi’s Commentary upon the Prophecies of Zechariah (London: James Duncan, 1837), 45 (“vessels of the cruse-species”). 65 Mikra’ot Gedolot, 8.638. 66 Vocabularium hebraicum atque chaldaicum, folio cxxxvii, recto. 67 I. Oecolampadius, In minores quos vocant prophetas (Geneva: Typographia Crispiniana, 1558), 185 (“duorum aureorum torcularculorum, quae hîc rostra nominantur”). 68 Luther, Die gantze Heilige Schrift Deudsch, 1654. See also D. Martin Luthers 63

Werke: kritische Gesammtausgabe. Die Deutsche Bibel. 11. Band, Zweite Hälfte

(Weimar: Hermann Böhlaus Nachfolger, 1960), 338–39. 69 As reported by C. à Lapide, Commentaria in duodecim prophetas minores (Antwerp: Verdussen, 1720), 678D: “Ribera censet duo rostra fuisse duos uncos, ex quibus suspenderentur infusoria, id est, vasa quibus oleum infunderetur in lucernas” (“Ribera thinks that the two ‘beaks’ were two hooks, from which were hung the beakers, that is, the vessels by which oil was poured into the lamps”). 70 As reported by à Lapide, Commentaria, 678B: “santerot quod Arias Latinâ voce Hebrææ affini vertit cantharos” (“ṣantĕrôt, which Arias [Montanus] translates canthari, a Latin word related to the Hebrew”). 71 As reported by à Lapide, Commentaria, 678B: “à Castro & alij censent hæc rostra fuisse fistulas aduncas, in quas ex olivis supernè imminentibus distillaret oleum, ut per eas influeret in lampadem, & ex ea in lucernas, ad fovendum perenne earum lumen” (“à Castro and others think that these ‘beaks’ were curved pipes, into which the oil dripped down from the overhanging olives above, in order that it might flow through them into the bowl, and from the latter into the lamps, to fuel the perpetual light”).

16

AL WOLTERS 17. Coccejus [1667]: instrumenta comprimentia oleas & oleum

exprimentia, 72 “tools which squeeze olives and express oil.”

18. Blayney [1797]: “spouts.” 73 19. Rosenmüller [1828]: epistomia, 74 “spigots.” 20. Pressel [1870]: Behälter, 75 “containers.” 21. Lange [1876]: Dornrinnen, 76 “thorn-channels.” 22. Bredenkamp [1849]: Handhaben [Schnauzen] (des Oelkrugs),77 “handles [spouts] (of the oil jug).” 23. von Orelli [1896]: Trichter, 78 “funnels.” 24. Rignell [1950]: Nachfüllgefässe, 79 “refilling vessels.” 25. Uffenheimer [1961]: cultic utensils. 80 26. Zer-Kavod [1968]: ‫דמויות כעין כרובים‬, 81 “figures like cherubim.” 27. North [1969]: trou, 82 “hole.” 28. van der Woude [1974]: Berge, 83 “mountains.” 80F

81F

82F

72 J. Coccejus, Opera omnia theologica, exegetica, didactica, polemica, philologica. Tomus decimus: Lexicon et commentarius sermonis Hebraici et Chaldaici Veteris Testamenti (Editio tertia; Amsterdam: Typographia Blaeu, 1706),

357.

73 B. Blayney, Zechariah; A New Translation, with Notes Critical, Philological, and Explanatory (Oxford: Cooke, 1797), p. 6 (of the translation) and p. 20 (of the

notes). 74 E.F.C. Rosenmüller, Scholia in Vetus Testamentum in compendium redacta.

Post auctoris obitum edidit Jo. Chr. Sigism. Lechner. Volumen sextum, scholia in prophetas minores continens (Leipzig: Barthius, 1836), 657. 75 W. Pressel, Commentar zu den Schriften der Propheten Haggai, Sacharja und Maleachi (Gotha: Schloessmann, 1870), 192, 197–98. 76 J.P. Lange, Die Propheten Haggai, Sacharja, Maleachi (Theologischhomiletisches Bibelwerk; Bielefeld und Leipzig: Velhagen und Klasing, 1876), 45. 77 C.J. Bredenkamp, Der Prophet Sacharja (Erlangen: Deichert, 1879), 36–37. 78 C. von Orelli, Die zwölf kleinen Propheten (Kurzgefasster Kommentar zu den Heiligen Schriften; dritte neubearbeitete Auflage; Munich: Beck, 1908), 191. Cf. the English translation: The Twelve Minor Prophets (trans. J. S. Banks; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1897), 330. 79 L.G. Rignell, Die Nachtgesichte des Sacharja. Eine exegetische Studie (Lund: Gleerup, 1950), 169. 80 B. Uffenheimer, The Visions of Zechariah. From Prophecy to Apocalyptic (Jerusalem: Kiryat Sepher, 1961), 55 [Hebrew]; the text there reads: ‫ מחתות או מלקחים‬,‫ יהיו אלה מזלגות‬,‫כלי עזר כאלה‬, “auxiliary utensils like these, be they forks, censers or snuffers.” 81 Zer-Kavod, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, 83. 82 R. North, Exégèse pratique des petits prophètes postexiliens (Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1969), 46.

MEANING OF ṢANTĔRÔT (ZECH 4:12)

17

29. van der Woude [1984]: onderdelen, 84 “component parts.” 30. HALOT [2002]: “reeds” (sic, mistaking Röhren, “pipes,” for

Rohre).

Van der Woude, “Söhne des Öls,” 267. A.S. van der Woude, Zacharia (De Prediking van het Oude Testament; Nijkerk: Callenbach, 1984), 94. 83 84

FEMALE SLAVE VS FEMALE SLAVE: ‫ ָא ָמה‬AND

‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬IN THE HB EDWARD J. BRIDGE,

MACQUARIE UNIVERSITY, NSW, AUSTRALIA INTRODUCTION The Hebrew Bible has two terms to designate female slaves: ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬. A matter that is frequently revisited is whether there is a distinction between these terms. It is clear that ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬are used as synonyms. This is shown by the use of both terms to designate female slaves in general (e.g., ‫ ָא ָמה‬in Nah 2:8[7] and Lev 25:44; and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬in 1 Sam 8:16 and Deut 28:68), and the interchanging of the terms for Hagar in Gen 16:2–5 (‫ ) ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬and 21:10– 13 (‫ ) ָא ָמה‬and for Bilhah and Zilpah in 31:33 (‫ ) ָא ָמה‬and 33:1, 6 (‫) ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬. A clear synonymous use of the two terms is found in Gen 30:3–4: ֲ Bilhah! Go in to Then she [Rachel] said, “See! My female slave [‫]א ָמ ִתי‬ her so she may bear children on my knees and I also may have children ִ as a through her.” So she gave to him Bilhah her female slave [‫]שׁ ְפ ָח ָתהּ‬ wife; and Jacob went into her. (Gen 30:3–4)1 84F

A similar synonymous use occurs in 1 Sam 25:27–28 in which Abigail uses both terms interchangeably when speaking to David in deference: “… And now, this gift that your servant [�‫ ] ִשׁ ְפ ָח ְת‬has brought to my lord, let it be given to the young men who follow in the footsteps of my lord. Please forgive the transgression of your servant [�‫( ”… ] ֲא ָמ ֶת‬1 Sam 25:27–28)

1

English translations are mine unless indicated otherwise.

19

20

EDWARD J. BRIDGE

It is to be expected that ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬should have distinct meanings, but as yet no agreement has been reached on what these meanings are despite continuing efforts to determine them. In addition, there is only one, full-length, comprehensive study on the matter, Cohen’s 1979 article.2 Short articles by Jepsen and Fensham give some discussion of these two terms and have proved influential.3 Dictionaries and lexica obviously discuss the terms, but cannot be expected to provide detailed argument for distinctions between the terms, 4 though larger lexical works do give some discussion. 5 As the Dictionary of the North-West Semitic Inscriptions comments, “Unfortunately a dictionary does not give the opportunity to present arguments for one’s preferences.” 6 The matter is often discussed incidentally, and though useful, lacks the advantage of a full discussion and tends to follow previous scholarship. 7 Younger and Marsman provide short reviews of existing scholarship.8 85F

86F

87F

8F

89F

90F

91F

C. (H.R.) Cohen, “Studies in Extra-biblical Hebrew Inscriptions I: The Semantic Range and Usage of the Terms ‫ אמה‬and ‫שפחה‬,” Shnaton 5–6 (1979), XXV–LIII. 3 A. Jepsen, “Amah und Schiphchah,” VT 8 (1958), 293–97; F. Charles Fensham, “The Son of a Handmaid in Northwest Semitic,” VT 19 (1969), 312–21. 4 E.g., F. Brown, S.R. Driver, C.A. Briggs, W. Gesenius, The New Brown-DriverBriggs-Gesenius Hebrew-English Lexicon (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1979 [1907]), 51, 1046; D.J.A. Clines, Dictionary of Classical Hebrew (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993) 1:309–10. 5 E.g., E. Reuter, “‫שׁ ְפ ָחה‬ ִ šipḥâ,” TDOT 15:405-10; Richard Schultz, “‫אָמָה‬, ʾāmâ,” NIDOTTE 1:419; idem, “‫שׁ ְפ ָחה‬, ִ Šípḥâ,” NIDOTTE 4:212 (provides a chart of three views). Surprisingly, TDOT does not have an entry for ‫אמה‬. 6 J. Hoftijzer, K. Jongeling, Dictionary of the North-West Semitic Inscriptions (Leiden, New York, Köln: Brill, 1995), xiv. 7 See, e.g. E.J. Revell, The Designation of the Individual: Expressive Usage in Biblical Narrative (CBET 14; Kampen: Kok Pharos, 1996), 38; Édouard Lipiński, “Kinship Terminology in 1 Sam 25.40–42,” ZAH 7 (1994), 12–16 (15); Hans W. Wolff, Anthropology of the Old Testament (trans. M. Kohl; London: SCM, 1974), 199; N. Avigad, Bullae and Seals from a Post-exilic Judean Archive (Qedem 4; Monographs of the Institute of Archaeology, Hebrew University; Jerusalem: Hebrew University, 1976), 11–12; Ingrid Riesener, Der Stamm ʿbd in Alten 2

Testament. Eine Wortuntersuchung unter Berücksichtigung neuerer sprachwissenschaft-licher Methoden (BZAW, 149; Berlin/New York: De Gruyter, 1979), 83; E. Neufeld, Ancient Hebrew Marriage Laws (London: Longmans,

Green, 1944), 121–24. 8 K. Lawson Younger, “Two Comparative Notes on the Book of Ruth,” Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society 26 (1998), 121–32 (126); Hennie J. Marsman, Women in Ugarit and Israel: Their Social and Religious Position in the

‫ ָא ָמה‬AND ‫ ִש ְפ ָחה‬IN THE HB

21

My contribution to the discussion on ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬is to argue that there are patterns of use of ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬that intersect, and that such patterns and their intersections lie behind proposals for distinct meanings between the two terms. My argument has two parts. First, I critically review the main proposals for distinctions in meaning between ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬. Secondly, I discuss the terms and the contexts of their use in the Hebrew Bible where I discern patterns of use of the two terms. I also distinguish between the descriptive use of the terms and their use as deference in discourse. Previous proposals have failed to take fully into account these two uses, which I argue impact on the proposed meanings for the terms.

PROPOSED DISTINCTIONS IN MEANING BETWEEN ‫ ָא ָמה‬AND ‫ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬ My review of proposals for distinctions in meaning between ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬covers publications in the last century which have proved influential. It starts with BDB, because of its continuing influence in philological studies in the Hebrew Bible. This review groups those publications that argue that there is a status difference between the terms (with ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬always thought to be the lower status term), those that argue ‫ ָא ָמה‬has a wider meaning than ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬, and those that argue the two terms are completely synonymous. The earliest publication I covered in the first group is BDB. In its two brief listings for ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬, BDB shows the two terms are essentially synonymous. 9 However, it also argues that ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬is distinct from ‫ ָא ָמה‬in two ways. The first is that ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬denotes a “maid, maid-servant, as belonging to a mistress.” Many occurrences of ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬are cited in support. No similar claim is made for ‫ ָא ָמה‬, though it is noted when it is also used in relation to the mistress (Gen 30:3; Exod 2:5) and when ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬is used in relation to the master (Gen 29:24, 29; 33:23[22]; Ruth 2:13). Secondly, BDB claims that ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬is more servile than ‫ ָא ָמה‬, citing Exod 11:5; 1 Sam 25:41 and 2 Sam 17:17, noting that ‫ ָא ָמה‬is never used in such contexts. They also make the observation that ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬is rarely found in legislation (only in Lev 19:20) or in texts assigned to P (only in Gen 16:2, 5; 35:25-26), whereas ‫ ָא ָמה‬is found in both cases. They also observe that, when ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬ are used for deference, they are synonymous (both are used “in token of humility”) except that only ‫ ָא ָמה‬is used toward God (1 Sam 11:1). To summarize, BDB views the terms as essentially synonymous, yet maintains some distinction that ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬being more servile than ‫ ָא ָמה‬. These arguments and observations have merit, but BDB may have overstated its 92F

Context of the Ancient Near East (OTS, 49; Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2003), 447–49. 9 BDB, 51, 1046.

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EDWARD J. BRIDGE

case in regard to ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬being more servile than ‫ ָא ָמה‬. Three references are not enough to build a strong case, and the role of the ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬in 2 Sam 17:17 (a messenger) is not necessarily servile. The use of ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬in relation to the master also works against BDB’s argument that ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬denotes a maidservant who belongs to a mistress. In a similar manner to BDB, Neufeld proposed that that ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬refers to status, namely, a female slave of the lowest possible status.10 This proposal is advocated by Fensham, Engelken and TDOT and is accepted by Avigad.11 Neufeld, like BDB, cites Exod 11:5; 1 Sam 25:41 and 2 Sam 17:17 as indicating menial tasks. 12 TDOT also argues that the status difference in the two terms carries into deference in the following manner: the use of ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬in deference represents submissiveness on the part of the speaker and the use of ‫ ָא ָמה‬represents “a heightened sense of selfawareness.” 13 Against this argument stand some of the passages that TDOT discusses (1 Sam 1:13–18; 1 Sam 25; 2 Sam 14) which show that ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬are interchangeable as terms of deference. 14 In a similar vein that ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬is more servile than ‫ ָא ָמה‬is Riesener’s proposal that ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬emphasizes a slave as a possession or laborer and that ‫ ָא ָמה‬emphasizes a slave’s feminine qualities.15 This proposal is accepted by NIDOTTE and Younger. Younger also argues that the distinction carries into deference. 16 Noteworthy is Riesener’s observation of a frequent use of 93F

94F

95F

96F

97F

98F

9F

10 11

Neufeld, Marriage Laws, 121–24. Fensham, “The Son,” 314; TDOT 15:408–9; K. Engelken, Frauen im alten

Israel: Eine begriffsgeschichtliche und sozialrechtliche Studie zur Stellung der Frau im Alten Testament (BWANT, 130; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1990), 131–132; Avigad, Bullae, 11–12. 12 Cf. TDOT 15:408–409: grinding flour (Exod 11:5) is considered to be particularly degrading, given that elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible it is a topos for

work done by prisoners (Judg 16:21; Isa 47:1–2; Job 31:10). 13 Neufeld, Marriage Laws, 121–24; TDOT 15:408–409. Neufeld is more circumspect than Fensham cites him: on the one hand, Neufeld dismisses the idea that ‫ ָא ָמה‬outranks ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬, but on the other hand concedes that it did, citing 1 Sam 25:41. Fensham’s interpretation of Neufeld has proved influential. 14 Noted also by Neufeld, Marriage Laws, 122, 123; Cohen, “Studies,” xxxviii– xl; and Marsman, Women, 448. 15 Riesener, Der Stamm, 83. See also Diana V. Edelman, King Saul in the Historiography of Judah (JSOTSup, 121; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991), 216, who argues that Abigail’s use of ‫ ָא ָמה‬in 1 Sam 25:41 emphasizes her sexuality. 16 NIDOTTE 1:419; 4:212; and Younger, “Comparative,” 127: ‫“ ָא ָמה‬expresses ִ implies subservience the speaker’s need for protection and help …, while [‫]שׁ ְפ ָחה‬ and readiness to serve.” Cf. TDOT’s view of ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬in deference.

23

‫ ָא ָמה‬AND ‫ ִש ְפ ָחה‬IN THE HB

‫ ָא ָמה‬in conjugal contexts (Gen 20:17; Exod 21:7–11; Judg 9:18;19:19; and 2 Sam 6:20–22). This association with conjugality is also evidenced in the occurrences in, for instance, Exod 23:12, Ps 86:12 and Ps 116:12, in which the phrase ‫“( בן־אמתך‬son of your female slave/servant”) refers to children born in slavery. The appearance of ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬in this context in Gen 31:33, 33:1–6 and Lev 19:20, however, shows that Riesener’s proposal may be too strong. 17 The second group of publications argues that ‫ ָא ָמה‬has a wider meaning than ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬. Jepsen, for example, proposes that ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬primarily refers to an unmarried woman who gives personal service to a mistress (cf. BDB) whereas ‫ ָא ָמה‬is a broader term, covering also a slave wife (thus anticipating Riesener). Over time this distinction was lost. 18 This proposal has proved influential, being accepted by Wolff, a number of commentaries, the Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (TWOT) and the Hebräisches und aramäishces Lexikon zum Alten Testament (HAL). 19 Westermann and Wenham also interpret Jepsen as saying that ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬is usually used when a female slave is answerable to a mistress, whereas ‫ ָא ָמה‬is used when a female slave is answerable to the master. 20 Prov 30:23b (and a female slave [‫ ]וְ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬when she supplants her mistress) and Isa 24:2c (as with the female slave [‫] ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬, so with her mistress21) are frequently cited in support, though Gen 16 and 29–30 are also used. In critique, it is only by arguing that the two terms later lost their distinctions that it would be possible to understand ‫ ָא ָמה‬and ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬as synonyms, an idea that the scholarship reviewed so far does not accept. Furthermore, as noted above 10F

10F

102F

103F

104F

17

Noted also by Marsman, Women, 448, n. 63. Jepsen, “Amah,” 293. 19 Wolff, Anthropology, 199; Claus Westermann, Genesis 12–36: A Commentary (trans. J. J. Scullion; Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1985), 238; Gordon J. Wenham, Genesis 16–50 (WBC 2; Waco: Word, 1994), 6; Hermann J. Austel, “Shipḥâ. Maidservant, Maid,” TWOT 946–947; Jack B. Scott, “‫’( ָא ָמה‬āmâ),” TWOT, 49; and Ludwig Koehler, Walter Baumgartner, et al., The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (4 vols; Leiden/New York, Köln: Brill, 1994+), 1621. 20 Wenham, Genesis 16–50, 6; Westermann, Genesis, 238. TDOT 15:408, also interprets Jepsen similarly. 21 The phrase is ‫ ַכּ ִשּׁ ְפ ָחה ַכּגְּ ִב ְר ָתּהּ‬, and comes in the midst of a list of paired status-related terms, all beginning with the inseparable form of ‫כי‬. ִ The exact nuances of ‫ ִכי‬are difficult to translate; however, Isa 24:2 intends that social status does not spare a person from God’s apocalyptic judgment on the land. 18

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and by BDB, ‫ ָא ָמה‬is also used in relation to the mistress (Gen 30:3; Exod 2:5; Nah 2:8[7]). The idea that ‫ ָא ָמה‬is a broader term than ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬and also covers a slave wife is extended by Lipiński, who argues that that ‫ ָא ָמה‬can designate the status of a wife, whereas ‫ ִשׁ ְפ ָחה‬does not. Recent scholars such as Younger and Jackson argue similarly. 22 To assist their argument, both Lipiński and Younger appeal to epigraphic remains from the Levant and elsewhere. In two Hebrew inscriptions, ‫ אמה‬is used to refer to women associated with men: 105F

‫[ יהו אשר על הבית אין פה כסף וזהב ]כי[ אם‬... ‫זאת ]קברת‬ ‫]עצמתו[ ועצמת אמתה אתה ארור האדם אשר יפתח את זאת‬ This is [the sepulchre of …]yahu who is over the house. There is no silver and no gold here but [his bones] and the bones of his slave-wife [‫ ]אמתה‬with him. Cursed be the man who will open this! (Royal Steward Tomb inscription of Silwan; KAI 191 = TSSI 3.191)

. .‫לשלמית אמת אלנתן פח‬ Belonging to Shelimoth maidservant of Elnathan (Shelimoth seal inscription)

What ‫ אמה‬means in these two inscriptions is debatable. Avigad argues ‫ אמה‬in the tomb inscription means “slave-wife,” 23 but ‫ אמה‬in the Shelimoth inscription means “official,” on analogy with the frequent use of ‫ עבד‬in both the Hebrew Bible and in seal inscriptions taking this meaning.24 Younger assumes ‫ אמה‬in both inscriptions means “wife,” 25 but does not indicate whether ‫ אמה‬could refer to a free wife. Lipiński argues that ‫אמה‬ could refer to a free woman as a wife. To do so, he cites two Semitic language inscriptions, which use the cognate of ‫א ָמה‬, ָ ʾmt: 106F

107F

108F

22 Lipiński, “Kinship,” 15; Younger, “Comparative,” 127–28; Bernard S. Jackson, “The ‘Institution’ of Marriage and Divorce in the Hebrew Bible,” JSS 56 (2011), 221–51 (227–28, 235). 23 Avigad, Bullae and Seals, 12–13. This affirms a proposal given by Albright for two Ammonite ’mh seal inscriptions (’lyh ’mt hnn'l, and ’nmwt ’mt dblbs); see W.F. Albright, “Notes on Ammonite History,” Miscellanea Biblica B. Ubach (Monserrat, 1954), 134 (cited in Avigad, Bullae and Seals, 13). 24 N. Avigad, “A Seal of a Slave-wife (amah),” PEQ (1946), 125–32; idem, “The Epitaph of a Royal Steward from Siloam Village,” IEJ 3 (1953), 137–52; and idem, Bullae and Seals, 12, 30–31. This interpretation is accepted by DCH, 310. 25 Younger, “Comparative,” 127.

25

‫ ָא ָמה‬AND ‫ ִש ְפ ָחה‬IN THE HB [This ivo]ry casket (’rn.[z.š]n), Amatbaal, daughter of Paṭesi, ’amat of Idnān, has given (it) as a gift to Astarte, her Lady. May you bless her in her days! Idnan [the engrav]er ([br]’?) has constructed the base. (Phoenician inscription, Ur Box; KAI 29 = TSSI 3.20)

[Queen Gaḥimat] ’amat of the mukarrib of Saba, Yilamar Bayyin, son of Šumhu hodiernal (the same day or one day’s past) hesternal (yesterday’s past) > recent > general (a person life’s past) and remote (historical and ancient) past. The other includes a transformation of the anterior into a perfective past and next into a simple past. This change is facultative and occurs in determined types of verbal systems. In shall be noted that there is no precise stage-to-stage equivalence between the stages which link the indefinite past and various subcategories of the definite past on the one hand, and the development of the perfective past into its aspectually neutral variant. The vertical arrows in this figure symbolize the diachronic progression of resultative inputs. 25 Within the Reichenbachian framework employed by Dahl (2008), the concept of taxis is labeled as ‘anterior aspect’ and is understood as an anteriority relation between event time and reference time. This means that event time precedes reference time. The label “aspect constraint” (employed by Dahl) fails to be entirely adequate since the concept of anteriority, as well as that of simultaneity and posteriority, is related to the idea of taxis and not aspect (Maslov 1988). 26 Dahl assumes that these constraints are universal and together with five elemental factors introduced in section 2.2, ensure that a sentence may be highly located at the performativity lattice providing the performative meaning in an explicit manner.

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2003:272). The method has its origin in the universality of functional paths which presupposes that the evolution of formations that, from the synchronic perspective, seem to be functionally similar, should also be equally similar. This means that it is possible to compare static grammatical objects and rank them in a series which represents a gradual linguistic change (Croft 2003:233 and 272). Consequently, synchronic evidence may be employed to extrapolate or substantiate diachronic processes. Since different languages may reflect different phases of a typologically identical process, functional and structural properties of typologically similar formations in several, related or unrelated, tongues may be interpreted as reflecting consecutive stages on the same evolutionary functional trajectory. In some languages, a determined gram corresponds to original phases of a universal development. However in others, typologically analogous formations either equal intermediate stages of that progress or, even, match its highly advanced portion(s). 27 We are convinced that the subsequent linguistic excursus is necessary to understand and empirically substantiate the—still commonly ignored— connection between performatives and resultatives (or their historical successors) and thus to comprehend the compatibility of the performative qatal with other meanings displayed by the gram. 2.2.2 INITIAL STAGES—RESULTATIVE PROPER GRAMS The original resultative expressions—grams that correspond to the initial stage of the anterior path—quite regularly provide a performative sense. Their use in performative utterances appears to be productive and unrestricted given that all verbs are virtually acceptable in performative acts. The only constraint is the fulfillment of felicity conditions and the existence of an appropriate procedure. For instance, in English, various performative utterances have a shape of the resultative proper passive (labeled also as ‘statal passive’, cf. Maslov 1988 and Nedjalkov 2001:930), formed by the auxiliary verb be and the passive resultative participle, such as the expression It is done (cf. already Austin 1962:57). This periphrasis is an exemplary resultative gram at an early stage of its development. As a prototypical resultative proper, it introduces a situation viewed as compounded by two elements: the prior action and its posterior result (i.e. a state that is simultaneous to the main reference time). In particular, it cannot be employed in senses that 27 This possibility clearly stems from the previously explained fact that meanings that are synchronically provided by a single construction reflect wellordered successive diachronic segments of typologically universal processes (cf. Heine, Claudi & Hünnemeyer 1991:251).

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

193

correspond to advanced stages on the anterior path, e.g. as an experiential perfect or a definite past tense. It is important to note that this English construction conveys performative nuances with relative frequency. The locution is productive and admits a wide range of predicates, both prototypical performatives (e.g. verb dicendi) as well as other verbs—it is thus not limited to a closed set of verbs (4): (5)

a. Objection is overruled28 b. This meeting is now adjourned c. It is decided! d. He is condemned to death! e. You are hereby authorized to pay… (Austin 1962:57) h. You are ordered to… (Austin 1962:59) f. Passengers are warned to cross the track by the bridge only (Austin 1962:57) g. A notice is hereby given that trespassers will be prosecuted (Austin 1962:57) h. Sir, you are arrested! In a similar vein, the Polish resultative expression built on the perfective passive resultative participle and the auxiliary być ‘be’ (as in the phrase jest napisany ‘[it] is written’) is extensively used in performative environments. As its English homologue, the locution is an exemplary resultative proper gram: a semantically bipolar construct that connotes two pieces of information (viz. the previously performed activity and a static condition that results from it). Being a non-advanced resultative diachrony, the periphrasis cannot appear in explicit past contexts, for instance, with past adverbs nor can it be employed with the experiential perfect force. Yet similar to the English participial expression, the construction in Polish is productive in the performative function, admitting a broad range of predicates, both verba dicendi and other less prototypical verbs:

28 In this typological section of the paper, the relevant constructions that convey performative meaning or can be employed in prototypical performative situations with a performative force will be highlighted with a bold type font.

194 (6)

ALEXANDER ANDRASON a. b. c. d.

Ochrzczony jesteś imieniem Aleksander! 29 baptized you.are (with.)name Alexander You are baptized by the name of Alexander! Jest zadecydowane, idziemy do kina is decided we-go to cinema It is decided, we are going to the cinema Jest Pan zatrzymany / zaaresztowany! is sir detained / arrested You are arrested Zebranie jest otwarte! meeting is open The meeting is inaugurated!

A comparable pattern may be found in Spanish. Spanish possesses a prototypical resultative periphrasis that consists of the static verb quedar ‘remain, keep on being’ and a passive (resultative) participle, e.g. Su obra queda olvidada ‘His work is/remains forgotten’. In addition to the resultative proper meaning (which always accompanies the expression), this periphrasis is highly productive in performative situations—it may be employed with both utterance-verbs as well as other types of predicates in order to perform speech acts: (7) a. ¡Así queda decidido! (when taking a decision) like.this remains decided It is decided! b. ¡El juicio queda visto para sentencia! the trial remains ready for verdict The trial is ready for the verdict c. ¡Usted queda arrestado! sir remains arrested You are arrested! 2.2.3 INTERMEDIATE STAGE—YOUNG PERFECTS Also constructions defined as prototypical anteriors or young perfects 30— i.e. grams that match intermediate stages on the anterior path, usually

29 All examples will be glossed following the so-called word-by-word alignment although respective perfect, perfective past and (simple) past formations will be indicated by employing the abbreviation PERF, PF.PAST and PAST, respectively. 30 On so-called ‘old anteriors’, see section 2.2.4, below.

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

195

spanning from the resultative to the experiential perfect segments 31—may be employed with a performative force. However, the use of such formations with a performative sense is more limited than it was in those cases of resultative proper expressions. Namely, the application of the gram in performative utterances is reserved for more prototypically performative verbs, such as predicates of giving and endowing as well as verba dicendi. The remaining verbal roots, on the contrary, regularly provide descriptive (constative) perfect meanings instead of performing acts and modifying the enunciator’s reality. Let us consider the following example of the Spanish construction built on the possessive verb tener ‘have, possess’ and a passive (resultative) participle, e.g. lo tengo hecho ‘I have it done / I have done it’. The gram is a prototypical young anterior used in several perfect functions. It also maintains its original resultative proper force. Unsurprisingly, the formation can frequently be employed in order to perform acts. Nevertheless, one may detect certain restrictions on the performative use which is most common and least awkward in cases where exemplary performative verbs are used (8.a and 8.b). However, less typical predicates are sometimes admissible (8.c). (8)

a. b. c.

Te tengo dicho que no! to.you I.have said that no I say you no! (lit. I have [it] said) Te lo tengo prometido! to.you it I.have promised I promise it to you (lit. I have it promised) Te tengo detenido! you I.have arrested I arrest you (lit. I have you arrested)

Another example may be found in Akkadian. This language includes in its verbal system a gram—labeled frequently ‘perfect’ (Huehnergard 2005:157)—which, given its morphological structure 32, we will refer to as iptaras (cf. Andrason 2011a:153). The formation is a prototypical young anterior of current relevance employed in a wide range of perfect senses (resultative, inclusive, frequentative, experiential and indefinite, cf. Maloney 31 Sometimes, the indefinite or immediate past value may also be included in the semantics of young perfects (e.g. cf. Spanish perfect he hecho ‘I have done’ which can be used as a one-day past). 32 I.e. the infixed morpheme t and the lack of reduplication of the second radical.

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1982:33, Leong 1994, Streck 1995 y 1999, Bubenik 1998:44-55 and Huehnergard 2005:157-160). Very infrequently, the category appears in explicit past environments and especially in past narrative fragments. On the other hand, the resultative proper value is normally conveyed by another Akkadian construction, i.e. the parsāku. This means that the iptaras itself is less extensively employed to express such an original resultative value; it thus lost the meaning that matches the initial stage of the anterior path. Among all the values provided by the gram, scholars determine one— known as “announcement Perfect”—which corresponds to the performative value (Cancik-Kirschbaum 1996, Huehnergard 2005 and Loesov 2004 and 2005). In this usage, the construction expresses the realization of the very act conveyed by the verb—it is employed in order to perform an act. It should be observed that the productivity of the performative iptaras is significantly more restricted in comparison to resultative proper expressions, studied in the previous section. Namely, the use of the gram in performative utterances is reserved for verbs of giving and endowing as well as predicates of utterance (verba dicendi). All remaining verbs, when employed in the iptaras, provide prototypical perfect meanings rather than introduce performative acts. (9) a. Nabi-Sîn ana maḫrika aṭṭardam (Huehnergard 2005:157) Nabi-Sîn to your.face sent-PERF.1sg I have now sent Nabi-Sîn to you’ or ‘I send you Nabi-Sîn b. a-nu-um-ma KU3.BABBAR u2-te-ra-kum (Loesov 2004:133) hereby silver return-PERF.1.sg Hereby, I have returned you the silver / Hereby, I return you the silver

On the other hand, one may not ignore a group of languages where young anteriors are normally incompatible with performative utterances. For instance, the Icelandic perfect hef gert ‘I have done’– a compound of the verb hafa ‘have’ and a resultative participle—is employed in all typical perfect senses (Jónsson 1992). Nevertheless, it fails to be used with a performative force. Similarly, the Spanish present perfect he hecho ‘I have done’ (an analytical construction derived from the auxiliary haber ‘have’ and a passive or resultative participle) is not found in explicit performative utterances. It shall be observed that in both cases, the anterior does not preserve the original resultative proper value—the grams are thus more advanced than the previously mentioned form in Spanish (i.e. tengo hecho)

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

197

as well as the Akkadian expression. In addition, the Spanish locution is not employed with the inclusive perfect sense. This loss of original senses may consequently be viewed as a motivation or justification for the “nonperformativeness” of the two perfects. 33 2.2.4 ADVANCED STAGE—OLD PERFECTS Advanced, originally resultative, constructions (so-called ‘old perfects’)— grams that function as prototypical perfects and as definite past tenses as well (in other words, past tenses which have not been reduced yet to solely past functions)—may also provide the performative value. Nevertheless, in a similar manner to what we have observed in the previous section, the performative use of such expressions appears to be restricted to a fixed set of verbs of speaking or those that convey the ideas of giving, sending or assigning. Furthermore, in the case of still more advanced old perfects, which—even though acceptable in certain perfect environments— principally function as prototypical pasts, admitting remote and narrative contexts, the gram displays a further weakening of the performative force, in some instances failing to be used in explicit performative utterances. It shall be noted that virtually old perfects are most commonly bereaved of the initial resultative proper sense. For instance, in Mandinka, the so-called YE gram (Andrason 2012b) can express both prototypical present perfect situations as well as definite past events. Additionally, it is sometimes employed in order to provide the performative force. In those instances, the action is seen as performed by being stated. It should be noted that the YE perfect-past normally appears in the performative sense only with utterance and communicative verbs (i.e. with predicates which lean themselves for performative acts), which means that the productivity of the expression is profoundly limited. Remaining dynamic verbs normally have constative perfect or past readings.

(10)

a. b.

33 These

Ŋa n kali! I-PERF myself swear I swear! Ŋa i daani I-PERF you pray I pray you / I beseech you

facts suggest that the location of the performative state shall be after the resultative proper and inclusive perfect phases.

198

ALEXANDER ANDRASON

Another example may be found in the Arabic language. The Classical Arabic qatala construction—an old anterior—is entirely compatible with the semantic domain of perfect as well as with that covered by a discursive and narrative past. On the other hand, the formation is not used with the original resultative proper force; when derived from dynamic fientive roots, the meaning almost invariably corresponds either to a perfect or to a past (Wright 1964:1-5, Haywood & Nahmad 1965:96, Corriente 1988:148-151, Owens 1988:316 and 2006:73, Danecki 1994:153, Kozłowska 1996:57, Bubenik 1998:49, Kienast 2001:332 and Versteegh 2001:84). As in Mandinka, the gram may function as a performative expression, indicating that an action is being performed at the very moment of speaking. This reading, however, is subject to multiple restrictions and seems to only be possible with verbs of utterance (11.a and 11.b) or endowing (11.c; Wright 1964:1, Danecki 1994 and Kienast 2001:332). ‫( ﺍﻧﺸﺪﺗﻚ ﷲ‬Wright 1964:1) ’anšadtu-ka llāha conjure-PERF.1.sg+you by.god I conjure thee by God b. ‫( ﺑﻌﺘﻚ ﻫﺬﺍ‬Wright 1964:1) bi‘tu-ka hādâ sell-PERF.1.sg.+you this I sell you this c. ‫( ﺣﻠﻔﺖ‬Kienast 2001:332) ḥalaftu swear-PERF.1.sg I swear (cf. translation in Kienast 2001:331 Hiermit schwöre ich) (11)

a.

A different instructive case may be found in Classical Latin. Namely, the Latin Perfectum is an exemplary old perfect—it may function either as a present perfect or as a perfective and simple narrative past (Francis & Tatum 1919). However, various, typically performative verbs (in particular, utterance verbs: e.g. dixi or juravi, verbs of endowing: e.g. dedi or missi, and verbs of appointing, e.g. unxi, etc.) are commonly employed with a performative force (Greenough et al. 1903/1983:301 and Francis & Tatum 1919:52): (12)

a. b.

Unxi te annoint-PERF.1.sg you I anoint you king (2 Kgs 9:3) Ecce dedi vobis

regem king omnem herbam

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

c.

199

so give-PERF.1.sg you every plant So I give you every plant (Gen 1:29) Ecce ego iuravi in nomine meo magno behold I swear-PERF.1.sg in name my great Behold, I swear by my great name (Jer 44:26)

Also the Akkadian gram iprus—an advanced resultative diachrony which function as an anterior and, most commonly, a definite past category (cf. Huehnergard 2005 and Andrason 2010c:338-340)—can be employed with a performative force. In those instances, it expresses an action achieved by the very act of uttering the words in question (Loesov 2005:115-117). The performative iprus appears frequently only in epistolary gender, in particular in certain fixed expressions of sending, assigning or writing—especially with the verb šapārum ‘write and send’—and with a limited set of certain exemplary utterance predicates. Consequently, in accordance with all the cases of the performative use offered by old anteriors (presented thus far), the acceptability of the gram in the performative sense is restricted to a closed class of prototypically performative verbs. (13)

a.

atma (Loesov 2005:117) swear-PERF.1.sg

I swear! b. ú-na-ḫi-i-id-ka (Loesov 2005:117) order-PERF.1.sg+you I order you c. ana šulmika ašpur-am (Sallaberger 1999:87–92) to health.your wish-PERF.1.sg.VENT34 I wish you well-being Finally, in Polish, the old perfect, so-called ‘past tense’, is never used in prototypical performative situations (14.a and 14.b). It should be noted that the Polish gram—despite its name—is not an exclusive past. Quite the contrary, it may still provide certain residual perfect uses. Namely, although it cannot be used in the sense of a resultative proper or an inclusive perfect, it is frequently employed as a resultative and experiential anterior. On the other hand, it must be emphasized that this formation constitutes the principal means to convey definite past meaning in Polish, both in discourse and narration. Consequently, taking into account a profound advancement of the Polish old perfect on the anterior cline—with a simultaneous 34

VENT stands for ‘ventive’, a special verbal morpheme (e.g. am).

200

ALEXANDER ANDRASON

reduction of the path’s original domains –, it is not surprising that it has lost the ability of appearing in performative utterances. (14)

a. b.

** Niniejszym otworzyłem zebranie hereby open-PF.PAST1sg meeting (Intended meaning) Hereby, I open the meeting ** Niniejszym ogłosiłem hereby declare-PF.PAST.1.sg was męzem i żoną you husband and wife (Intended meaning) Hereby, I declare you husband and wife

2.2.5 TERMINAL STAGE—DEFINITE PASTS As a final point in our discussion of post-resultative formations and their relation to the performative value, we may take constructions that have reached highly advanced or terminal stages of the development. They function as archetypical definite past tenses, having, at the same time, lost any resultative and perfect values. Such formations, regularly fail to be employed with a performative force. For instance, in Icelandic, the simple past—itself, being a gram that is never employed in the resultative proper or perfect sense—cannot act as a performative. Thus, for example, the use of the sentence (17) is impossible during the ceremony of baptizing (in this case, one expects to employ the present tense or a less advanced resultative expression):

(17) **Hér með skirði ég þig Alexander Here with baptize-PAST.1.sg I you Alexander (Intended meaning) Hereby, I baptize you by the name Alexander As an additional exemplary case, one may quote the French passé simple, an old perfect which nowadays has been reduced to an exclusive narrative past function (Greviss 1975 and Mauger 1968)—the ultimate phase of the anterior cline. This means that the gram never appears in discourse or in personal narratives, nor is it able to convey meanings that correspond to initial or intermediate stages of the mentioned path: it does not function as a resultative proper or an anterior. In harmony with this panchronic advancement and reduction of the more archaic senses, the formation absolutely fails to be employed with a performative force: it is never used as an explicit vehicle of the performative value nor does it appear in performative utterances, in general (18). In fact, this incompatibility with

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

201

the performative force is tautological: the construction—being restricted to literary narrative genders35—is never pronounced or used in direct quotations (spoken or written). Thus, by definition, it cannot be used to perform an activity. In such instances, one employs the present tense or less advanced resultative expressions. (18) **Je vous déclarai mari et femme I you declare-PAST.1.sg husband and wife (Intended meaning) I declare you husband and wife 36

3. Performative QATAL Having explained synchronic and diachronic properties of performatives and, subsequently, having established the relation between the performative function and grams that develop along the anterior path, specifying the exact location of the performative sense-stage on this evolutionary scenario, we may proceed to the analysis of the nature of the BH performative qatal. First, various—as diverse as possible—examples of the qatal in the performative utterances will be presented (section 3.1). Afterwards, the panchronic explanation of the performative sense provided by the BH gram will be offered, conciliating this usage with the remaining components of the semantic network of the construction (section 3.2). Finally, bearing in main the characteristics of the performative qatal introduced in part 3.1, we will demonstrate that these properties fully harmonize with the qatal defined as an advanced portion of the anterior path, i.e. as an intermediate-old perfect (cf. section 3.3).

3.1. EVIDENCE The performative use of the qatal, although certainly much less common than other perfect or past meanings offered by the BH suffix conjugation, is 35

In discourse, it appears (although still very sporadically) only in some fixed expressions and idioms, such as il fut un temps, s’il en fut or ce fut pour moi un honneur. 36 The present list of linguistic samples is of course far from being exhaustive. For instance, as old perfects are concerned we did not include the Greek aorist or the Hausa completive—post-resultative grams that may be employed with a performative force. Our examples are designed to illustrate the proposed evolutionary principle and the relation of the performative meaning-stage to the anterior path and to formations which develop along this evolutionary trajectory. Further research on a broader sample of idioms is inevitable in order to sharpen this tendency and improve its understanding.

202

ALEXANDER ANDRASON

not—contrary to the widespread opinion—exceptionally rare or odd. This statement derives from the following facts: first, the performative qatal can be detected in various books of the Hebrew Bible. Second, it is represented by, at least, nineteen different verbs or roots. Third, it provides examples of all five of the main categories of prototypical performative verbs, i.e. expositives, exercitives, commissives, behabitives and verdictives. And finally fourth, in limited cases, other non-exemplary performative predicates are used in order to perform performative speech acts in Biblical Hebrew. To demonstrate this relative non-eccentricity of the gram let us introduce the most relevant instances where it is employed. Following the taxonomy proposed by Austin (1962), these cases will be divided into five classes of archetypal performatives. 3.1.1 E XPOSITIVE TYPE Expositives are predicates that by telling, affirming, stating, agreeing or denying, asking and answering, specify how the performative utterance fits into the conversation. They expound views, conduct arguments, clarify usages and stipulate how the utterance is related to the course of argumentation. In Biblical Hebrew, one may find four prototypically expositive verbs which in the qatal form display a clear performative value: ‫‘ ִהגִּ יד‬declare’ (19.a and 19.b), ‫‘ ָא ַמר‬say’ (20.a, 20.b and 20.c), ‫‘ ֵה ִﬠ)י(ד‬call (to witness)’ (21.a and 21.b) and ‫‘ ִס ֵפּר‬narrate, recount’ (22): For instance, in the following examples, the qatal form derived from the predicate ‫‘ ִהגִּ יד‬declare’ does not suggest any prior—perfect or past— action, but refers to the activity that is being performed at the very moment of speaking. In other words, the verb ‫‘ ִה ַגּ ְ֤ ד ִתּי‬I declare’ introduces the expositive act of announcing, being a necessary component to its felicitous performance:

(19)

a. Deut 26:3

‫ל־ה ָא ֶר ץ‬ ָ ‫אתי ֶא‬ ִ ‫י־ב‬ ָ ‫�הי� ִכּ‬ ֶ ‫ִהגַּ ְד ִתּי ַהיּוֹם ַליהוה ֱא‬ I declare today to the Lord your God that I have come into the land b. Deut 30:18

‫אבדוּ‬ ֵ ֹ ‫ִהגַּ ְד ִתּי לָ ֶכם ַהיּוֹם ִכּי ָאבֹד תּ‬ I declare to you today, that you shall surely perish

The verb ‫‘ ָא ַמר‬say’ in the performative function may receive two readings, one properly expositive (20.a and 20.b), introducing a message that is being uttered and the other exercitive (cf. the section 3.1.2 below), whereby the

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

203

enunciator exerts his power over people taking a decision and determining a given situation (20.c) (20)

a. Job 9:22

‫ל־כּן ָא ַמ ְר ִתּי ָתּם וְ ָר ָשׁע הוּא ְמ ַכ ֶלּה‬ ֵ ‫ַא ַחת ִהיא ַﬠ‬ It is all one; therefore I say: He destroys both the blameless and the wicked b. Job 32:10

‫ף־אנִ י׃‬ ֽ ָ ‫ה־לּי ֲא ַחֶוּ֖ה ֵדּ ִ ֣ﬠי ַא‬ ֑ ִ ‫ָל ֵכ֣ן ָ ֭א ַמ ְר ִתּי ִשׁ ְמ ָﬠ‬ Therefore I say: Listen to me; let me also declare my opinion c. 2 Sam 19:30

‫יבא‬ ָ ‫אמר לוֹ ַה ֶמּ ֶל� ָל ָמּה ְתּ ַד ֵבּר עוֹד ְדּ ָב ֶרי� ָא ַמ ְר ִתּי ַא ָתּה וְ ִצ‬ ֶ ֹ ‫וַ יּ‬ ‫ת־ה ָשּׂ ֶדה‬ ַ ‫ַתּ ְח ְלקוּ ֶא‬ And the king said to him: Why do you speak any more of your affairs? I say (i.e. I decide): you and Ziba shall divide the land Another typical expositive predicate is ‫‘ ֵה ִﬠ)י(ד‬call (for to witness)’ that in the suffix conjugation may introduce invocations. Nevertheless, although a typical member of the expositive class, it may also alternatively be understood as accompanied by a behabitive force of a prayer. In both cases, its use is a compulsory component in order to accomplish the act of invocating heaven and earth (on the exercitive function of this verb see the next section). (21)

a. Deut 4:26

‫ת־ה ָא ֶר ץ‬ ָ ‫ת־ה ָשּׁ ַמיִם וְ ֶא‬ ַ ‫ַה ִﬠיד ִֹתי ָב ֶכם ַהיּוֹם ֶא‬ I call heaven and earth to witness against you today b. Deut 30:19

‫ת־ה ָא ֶר ץ‬ ָ ‫ת־ה ָשּׁ ַמיִם וְ ֶא‬ ַ ‫ַה ִﬠיד ִֹתי ָב ֶכם ַהיּוֹם ֶא‬ I call heaven and earth to witness against you today

Similarly, the verb ‫‘ ִס ֵפּר‬narrate, recount’ may be employed in the qatal form in order to perform expositive acts:

204

(22)

ALEXANDER ANDRASON

Ps 75:2

�‫אוֹתי‬ ֶ ‫הוֹדינוּ וְ ָקרוֹב ְשׁ ֶמ� ִס ְפּרוּ נִ ְפ ְל‬ ִ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫הוֹדינוּ ְלּ� ֱא‬ ִ We give thanks to you, o God, we give thanks, for your name is near; they narrate your marvelous deeds

3.1.2 E XERCITIVE TYPE The exercitive category of performatives is used to assert influence or exercise rights and power. Exercitives give a decision that something should be so (Austin 1962:154). Such predicates usually express the ideas of warning, advising, urging, prohibiting, ordering and commanding on the one hand (subclass a) and the concepts of appointing, nominating, naming, annulling and repealing, on the other (subclass b). It shall be noted that verbs of giving and endowing belong to this category of performatives (subclass c; Austin 1962:155). The first group—class a—is represented in Biblical Hebrew by three predicates: ‫‘ ֵה ִﬠ)י(ד‬warn’ (23.a), ‫יָﬠץ‬ ַ ‘advise, counsel’ (23.b) and �‫ִה ְשׁ ִבּ ַי‬ ‘adjure, urge’ (23.c). It shall be noted that the verb ‫‘ ֵה ִﬠ)י(ד‬warn’, beside being employed in order to caution or advise, may also introduce the exercitive act as demonstrated previously in examples (21.a and 21.b) above.

(23)

a. Deut 8:19 ‫�הים ֲא ֵח ִרים‬ ִ ‫�הי� וְ ָה ַל ְכ ָתּ ַא ֲח ֵרי ֱא‬ ֶ ‫ם־שׁכ ַֹ� ִתּ ְשׁ ַכּח ֶאת־יהוה ֱא‬ ָ ‫וְ ָהיָה ִא‬ ‫אבדוּן‬ ֵ ֹ ‫ית ָל ֶהם ַה ִﬠד ִֹתי ָב ֶכם ַהיּוֹם ִכּי ָאבֹד תּ‬ ָ ִ‫וַ ֲﬠ ַב ְד ָתּם וְ ִה ְשׁ ַתּ ֲחו‬ If you forget the Lord your God and follow other gods to serve and worship them, I warn you today that you shall surely perish b. 2 Sam 17:11

‫יֵא ֵסף ָﬠ ֶלי� ָכל־יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל‬ ָ ‫ִכּי יָ ַﬠ ְצ ִתּי ֵה ָאסֹף‬ But I advise that all Israel shall be gathered to you 37 c. Song 2:7; 3:5; 5:8 and 8:4 ‫רוּשׁ ַל ִם‬ ָ ְ‫ִה ְשׁ ַבּ ְﬠ ִתּי ֶא ְת ֶכם ְבּנוֹת י‬ I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem 620F

The second class of exercitives, which roughly speaking contains verbs of nominating, is represented by two archetypical predicates: ‫‘ ִצוָּ ה‬appoint, order’ and ‫‘ ָמ ַשׁ ח‬anoint’. Their use in the qatal form—as required—is a

37

One may also quote another possible case of the exercitive in Jer 42:19.

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

205

necessary component of the felicitous performance of the act of nomination: (24) a. 1 Kgs 1:35 ‫ל־יְהוּדה‬ ָ ‫יתי ִל ְהיוֹת נָ גִ יד ַﬠל־יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל וְ ַﬠ‬ ִ ִ‫וְ אֹתוֹ ִצוּ‬ And I appoint him to be ruler over Israel and over Judah b. 2 Kgs 9:3

‫ֹה־א ַמר יהוה ְמ ַשׁ ְח ִתּי� ְל ֶמ ֶל� ֶאל־יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל‬ ָ ‫וְ ָא ַמ ְר ָתּ כּ‬ Thus says the Lord, I anoint you king over Israel

Finally, the third subcategory of exercitive verbs (viz. the class c of verbs of endowing) is documented by two predicates: ‫‘ נָ ַתן‬give’ (26.a-e) and ‫ָשׁלַ ח‬ ‘send’ (26.a-b). Both verbs are quite common in the performative qatal usage in the biblical material. It must be emphasized that these nonutterance-verbs are to be regarded as typical performative predicates within Austin’s (1962; as well as Searl’s 1971/1976) scheme. The enunciator, exercising his or her power, expresses the decision that something is to be so. This means that the so-called epistolary perfect is a regular manifestation of the exercitive act—the speaker endows others with something and/or takes a decision that a state of affairs shall be such and such. (25)

a. Gen 23:11

‫א־אד ֹנִ י ְשׁ ָמ ֵﬠנִ י ַה ָשּׂ ֶדה נָ ַת ִתּי ָל� וְ ַה ְמּ ָﬠ ָרה ֲא ֶשׁר־בּוֹ‬ ֲ ֹ‫ל‬ No, my lord, hear me; I give you the field and the cave that is in it b. Gen 23:11

‫יה ָ ֖לּ� ְק ֥בֹר ֵמ ֶ ֽת�׃‬ ָ ‫י־ﬠ ִ ֛מּי נְ ַת ִ ֥תּ‬ ַ ֵ‫יה ְל ֵﬠ ֵינ֧י ְבנ‬ ָ ‫ְל�֣ נְ ַת ִ ֑תּ‬ In the presence of my people I give it to you; bury your dead

c. Gen 15:18 To your descendants I give this land

‫ת־ה ָא ֶרץ ַהזֹּאת‬ ָ ‫ְלזַ ְר ֲﬠ� נָ ַת ִתּי ֶא‬

d. Gen 1:29 ‫ל־ה ֵﬠץ‬ ָ ‫ת־כּ‬ ָ ‫ל־ה ָא ֶרץ וְ ֶא‬ ָ ‫ל־פּנֵ י ָכ‬ ְ ‫ל־ﬠ ֶשׂב ז ֵֹר ַ� זֶ ַרע ֲא ֶשׁר ַﬠ‬ ֵ ‫ת־כּ‬ ָ ‫ִהנֵּ ה נָ ַת ִתּי ָל ֶכם ֶא‬ ‫יִהיֶה ְל ָא ְכ ָלה‬ ְ ‫י־ﬠץ ז ֵֹר ַ� זָ ַרע ָל ֶכם‬ ֵ ‫ֲא ֶשׁר־בּוֹ ְפ ִר‬ And God said: Behold, I give you every plant yielding seed that is on the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit. You shall have them for food

206

ALEXANDER ANDRASON e. 1 Kgs 3:13 I give you also what you have not asked

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a. 1 Kgs 15:19 I send you a present of silver and gold b. 2 Chr 2:12 And now, I send a skilled artisan

�‫א־שׁ ַא ְל ָתּ נָ ַת ִתּי ָל‬ ָ ֹ ‫וְ גַ ם ֲא ֶשׁר ל‬

‫ִהנֵּ ה ָשׁ ַל ְח ִתּי ְל� שׁ ַֹחד ֶכּ ֶסף וְ זָ ָהב‬

‫ישׁ־ח ָכם‬ ָ ‫וְ ַﬠ ָתּה ָשׁ ַל ְח ִתּי ִא‬

3.1.3 COMMISSIVE TYPE By using commissives, the enunciator assumes an obligation or declares an intention: he or she undertakes something by promising, swearing, vowing, proposing, agreeing and consenting. Put differently, commissives commit the speaker to a certain course of action (Austin 1962:156). In the biblical text, one may find a single prototypical commissive verb employed in the qatal with a performative force, namely ‫‘ נִ ְשׁ ַבּע‬swear’. In all of the following examples, the form ‫ נִ ְשׁ ַבּ ְﬠ ִתּי‬introduces the exact message of a current oath, being a necessary component of the act of a vow:

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a. Jer 22:5 ‫ִבּי נִ ְשׁ ַבּ ְﬠ ִתּי‬ ‫ָה ֵא ֶלּה‬ ‫ת־ה ְדּ ָב ִרים‬ ַ ‫ֶא‬ ‫ִת ְשׁ ְמעוּ‬ ‫וְ ִאם לֹא‬ ‫י־ל ָח ְר ָבּה יִ ְהיֶ ה ַה ַבּיִת ַהזֶּ ה‬ ְ ‫נְ ֻאם־יהוה ִכּ‬ But if you will not obey these words, I swear by myself, declares the Lord, that this house shall become a desolation b. 2 Sam 19:8 ‫ַביהוה נִ ְשׁ ַבּ ְﬠ ִתּי ִכּי‬ For I swear by God that… c. Gen 22:16 ‫ת־ה ָדּ ָבר ַהזֶּ ה‬ ַ ‫ית ֶא‬ ָ ‫אמר ִבּי נִ ְשׁ ַבּ ְﬠ ִתּי נְ ֻאם־יהוה ִכּי יַ ַﬠן ֲא ֶשׁר ָﬠ ִשׂ‬ ֶ ֹ ‫וַ יּ‬ �‫ת־בּנְ � ֶאת־יְ ִח ֶיד‬ ִ ‫וְ לֹא ָח ַשׂ ְכ ָתּ ֶא‬ And he said: By myself I swear—declares the Lord—because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son d. Jer 44:26

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

207

‫ִהנְ נִ י נִ ְשׁ ַבּ ְﬠ ִתּי ִבּ ְשׁ ִמי ַהגָּ דוֹל‬ Behold, I swear by my great name It is highly important to note that an act of vowing or swearing may likewise be introduced by non-prototypical commissive verbs, such as ‫ֵה ִרים‬ ‘lift up’ (28.a) and ‫‘ נָ ָשׂא‬lift, raise’ (28.b), as illustrated by the following fragment: (28)

a. Gen 14:22 ‫ל־מ ֶל� ְסד ֹם ֲה ִרימ ִֹתי יָ ִדי ֶאל־יהוה ֵאל ֶﬠלְ יוֹן קֹנֵ ה‬ ֶ ‫אמר ַא ְב ָרם ֶא‬ ֶ ֹ ‫וַ יּ‬ ‫ָשׁ ַמיִם וָ ָא ֶר ץ‬ But Abram said to the king of Sodom: I swear (lit. lift my hand [in ratifying an oath]) to the Lord, God Most High, Possessor of heaven and earth b. Ezek 36:7 ‫אתי ֶאת־יָ ִדי ִאם־לֹא ַהגּוֹיִם ֲא ֶשׁר ָל ֶכם ִמ ָסּ ִביב ֵה ָמּה ְכּ ִל ָמּ ָתם‬ ִ ‫ֲאנִ י נָ ָשׂ‬ ‫יִ ָשּׂאוּ‬ I swear (raise my hand [in ratifying an oath]) that the nations that are all around you shall themselves suffer reproach

3.1.4 BEHABITIVE TYPE Behabitives are predicates related to a certain attitude adopted by the speaker and to various types of social behavior, such as welcoming, thanking, congratulating, apologizing, condoling, cursing, blessing, challenging, daring, favoring, deploring and blaming. This category of performatives is primordially represented by three verbs in the Hebrew Bible: �‫‘ ֵבּ ֵר‬bless’ (29.a-c), ‫הוֹדה‬ ָ ‘praise, give thanks’ (30) and ‫‘ ֵח ֵרף‬defy’ (31). In all of the provided examples—in contrast to cases where it is used as an archetypical constative –, the qatal form does not describe anterior (perfect), past, presents or even future events and situations. Quite the reverse, it is employed in order to perform determined creative acts, such as blessing, thanking and challenging. Put differently, by uttering these sentences, the speaker does not state how reality was, is or will be, but imposes an immediate modification in the adjacent world.

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ALEXANDER ANDRASON a. Ps 129:8 We bless you in the name of God

‫ֵבּ ַר ְכנוּ ֶא ְת ֶכם ְבּ ֵשׁם יהוה‬

b. Ps 118:26

‫יְהוֽה׃‬ ָ ‫נוּכם ִמ ֵ ֥בּית‬ ֶ֗ ‫יְהו֑ה ֵ֝בּ ַ ֽר ְכ‬ ָ ‫שׁם‬ ֣ ֵ ‫ָבּ ֣רוּ� ַ ֭ה ָבּא ְבּ‬ Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! We bless you from the house of the Lord c. Gen 17:20

‫יתי אֹתוֹ‬ ִ ‫וּלְ יִ ְשׁ ָמ ֵﬠאל ְשׁ ַמ ְﬠ ִתּי� ִהנֵּ ה ֵבּ ַר ְכ ִתּי אֹתוֹ וְ ִה ְפ ֵר‬ As for Ishmael, I have heard you; behold, I bless him and will make him fruitful (30)

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Ps 75:2

�‫הוֹדינוּ וְ ָקרוֹב ְשׁ ֶמ‬ ִ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫הוֹדינוּ ְלּ� ֱא‬ ִ We praise you God, we praise you / We give thanks to you, O God, we give thanks, for your name is near 1 Sam 17:10

‫ת־מ ַﬠ ְרכוֹת יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל ַהיּוֹם ַהזֶּ ה‬ ַ ‫אמר ַה ְפּ ִל ְשׁ ִתּי ֲאנִ י ֵח ַר ְפ ִתּי ֶא‬ ֶ ֹ ‫וַ יּ‬ And the Philistine said: I defy the ranks of Israel this day

Also, the following sentence provides a case of a behabitive act although the predicate, employed in order to introduce the intended type of social behavior,—i.e. ‫‘ ִה ְשׁ ַתּ ֲחוָ ה‬bow down deeply, do obeisance’—is not a prototypical behabitive verb: (32)

2 Sam 16:4

�‫א־חן ְבּ ֵﬠינֶ י� ֲאד ֹנִ י ַה ֶמּ ֶל‬ ֵ ‫יתי ֶא ְמ ָצ‬ ִ ֵ‫ִה ְשׁ ַתּ ֲחו‬ I pay homage; let me ever find favor in your sight, my lord the king

3.1.5 VERDICTIVE TYPE The last subcategory of prototypical performatives consists of verdictive verbs. By means of these predicates, the enunciator exercises a judgment, gives a verdict, approves, estimates, reckons, appraises or rules. In the Hebrew Bible, this group is represented by the verb ‫ָסלַ ח‬ ‘pardon, practice forbearance, forgive’. As it is evident from the following example (cf. 33 below), the qatal form ‫ ָס ַל ְח ִתּי‬does not express a perfect or past value, but, on the contrary, is an indispensable component in order to perform the ongoing act of grace:

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209

Num 14:20

�‫אמר יהוה ָס ַל ְח ִתּי כִּ ְד ָב ֶר‬ ֶ ֹ ‫וַ יּ‬ Then the Lord said: I pardon in accordance with your word

Besides this exemplary performative utterance-predicate, another typical verb—but certainly not an utterance-root—may introduce the enactment of a verdict, viz. �ַ ‫‘ ִפּ ֵתּ‬loosen, release’: (34)

Jer 40:4

�‫ן־האזִ ִקּים ֲא ֶשׁר ַﬠל־יָ ֶד‬ ָ ‫וְ ַﬠ ָתּה ִהנֵּ ה ִפ ַתּ ְח ִתּי� ַהיּוֹם ִמ‬ Now, behold, I release you today from the chains on your hands

3.2. PERFORMATIVE QATAL AS A STAGE WITHIN THE ANTERIOR-PATH QATAL 3.2.1 ACCOMMODATING THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL IN THE NETWORK OF SENSES As already mentioned, the qatal has been recently defined as a manifestation of the anterior path. First, Andersen (2000:31) and Cook (2002:209-219) have shown that the formation has evolved following the anterior trajectory, having originated in a resultative construction (cf. also Lipiński 2001:336-337 and Kienast 2001; on the history of the qatal see below in this section) and acquired stages of a perfect and perfective past. More recently, Andrason (2010b:610 and 2011a:281, 305-307) has demonstrated that the semantic potential of the category—with all its superficial heterogeneity and inconsistency—may be grasped in its integrity and viewed as a homogeneous and harmonious whole, if we define it as a portion of the anterior track. In this manner, present perfect (inclusive, resultative, frequentative and experiential), indefinite and definite past, as well as perfective and simple past functions may be made compatible and congruent—all of them may be matched with consecutive stages on the anterior path. 38 621F

38 Andrason (2011a:305-307) has shown that further senses conveyed by the qatal may be mapped and explained as manifestations of two remaining paths that, jointly with the anterior track, constitute the resultative trajectory—i.e. a comprehensive evolutionary scenario governing the grammatical life of all resultative constructions. In particular, the resultative-stative, stative and present temporal value has been unified and explained employing a network of the

210

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Consequently, the qatal is synchronically defined as an advanced portion of the anterior trajectory—a fragment of the path that covers the stages from the dynamic inclusive perfect to the simple past (although only in discourse and personal narration; this means that the narrative past tense value is still unavailable at the biblical period). Grosso modo, we could state, that the dynamically pictured state of the formation (or more correctly speaking, of a group of senses that can be mapped employing the network of the anterior cline) approximates the grammatical category of an old or “relatively”-old perfect where both perfect and past (exclusively in discourse and personal narration) are prominent. 39 This panchronic networking of the values of the qatal has been spatially mapped in the following manner, matching the historical progression of the anterior path: Since the semantic load of the qatal is portrayed as matching the anterior path, being classified as a prototypical anterior diachrony at an advanced, though still not terminal, stage of development, the performative value of the gram immediately receives its place and explanation. Not only is it fully rational and justified—it corresponds to one of the segments of the anterior trajectory –, but also almost expected, given the fact that old perfects, which preserve their perfect uses, likewise tend to maintain the performative function, a sense that corresponds to one of the initial stages on the cline. Indeed, the fact that the qatal is still employed in the functions of an inclusive perfect—a stage that theoretically precedes the phases of the performative, necessitates that it would, at least to a certain extent, be compatible with the performative use.

simultaneous path (cf. Andrason 2011a:282-283, 305-307 and 2011b:42) while rare case where the qatal offers an evidential sense has been rationalized as an expression of the evidential path (cf. Andrason 2010b:623-624 and 2011a:282; on the evidential path see Aikhenvald 2004 and Andrason 2010b:604-609). Finally, certain modal functions of the gram have been classified as a manifestation of the modal contamination path of the original resultative input (cf. Andrason 2011a:300304; cf. also Andrason 2011c:7-8). 39 This “relative” oldness or grammatical maturity of the qatal is justified by two facts: it is still commonly used as a perfect and it is not employed as a past tense in narratives.

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SENSES OF THE QATAL

211

S TAGES OF THE ANTERIOR PATH 40

Perfect

Definite past

Aspect

Inclusive Resultative Frequentative Experiential Indefinite Immediate Hodiernal / hesternal Recent General Remote Perfective Simple

Figure 3: Senses of the BH qatal mapped as stages of the anterior path (Andrason 2011a:281)

In this article, the BH qatal is treated as if its semantic potential has been “measured” at a single time t0. This means that we consider Biblical Hebrew to be a historically static language—a synchronically consistent phenomenon. This is of course an approximation given the fact that the biblical text had been composed during various centuries, and thus different books may represent distinct diachronic stages of the language (see, Andrason 2011d:24, 49; furthermore, it can also include certain dialectical variations). 40

212

ALEXANDER ANDRASON

SENSES OF THE QATAL

S TAGES OF THE ANTERIOR PATH 41

Perfect

Definite past

Aspect

Inclusive Performative Resultative Frequentative Experiential Indefinite Immediate Hodiernal / hesternal Recent General Remote Perfective Simple

Figure 4: Performative sense of the BH qatal mapped as a stage of the anterior path

3.2.2 DIACHRONIC EVIDENCE Our explanation has thus far been derived from typological universals and certain synchronically based properties, viz. values offered by the gram at the biblical époque. However, as required by the panchronic methodology (cf. Andrason 2010a:20-21, 2011b:33 and 2011d:20), a proposal of a dynamic elucidation of a sense, or of an entire category, must always be supported by diachronic data. Let us present such concrete historical facts that would corroborate our thesis whereby the performative sense, matching one of the initial stages on the anterior cline, reflects original— and hence available at the Proto-Semitic (PS) period—properties of the BH qatal. The BH qatal is a built on the Proto-Semitic verbal adjective *qatVl (i.e. *qatal, *qatil and *qatul) that from the beginning conveyed a resultative proper or stative value (Huehnergard 1987:221-223, Andersen 2000:31, Lambdin & Huehnergard 1998, Lipiński 2001:336-337 and 341, and Cook 2002:209-219). The BH qatal form itself reflects an original predicative use of this verbal adjective, i.e. a situation where it was used in order to describe a state of the nominal subject to which it was directly linked without any auxiliary verb. However, it could also be found with personal pronouns— This is an adapted version of the model of the anterior path that has previously been posited in Figure 2 and 3. 41

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

213

and this was the foundation of the BH qatal flexional markers. To this predicative analytical input expression shaped during the Proto-Semitic époque, we will refer to as a *qatal-. The resultative value of this input periphrasis (i.e. of the PS *qatal-) —as still preserved in Akkadian—clearly stems from the resultative-stative sense of the verbal adjective itself (Huehnergard 1987:223). It shall be observed that resultative verbal adjectives and periphrases built with them—such as the PS *qatVl- and *qatal-—not only constitute a common departure point of the anterior path and thus a basis for resultatives, perfects and later on, for perfective and simple past tenses (cf. Bybee, Perkins & Pagliuca 1994, Dahl 2000b and Andrason 2011a:286-287), but also are regularly employed in performative utterances (cf. already Austin 1962). We have previously seen similar formations—i.e. resultative adjectives or participles introduced by auxiliary verbs of predication—used as performatives in English and Polish (cf. 5.a-i, 6.a-d). Below, we offer further illustrative cases from the two idioms and from Spanish: (36) a. You are ordered to… (Austin 1962:59) b. Zebranie jest otwarte! meeting is open The meeting is inaugurated! c. ¡Usted está detenido! sir is arrested Sir, you are arrested! Also bare resultative participles (i.e. verbal adjectives employed with no auxiliary verb)—entities that are typological matrixes for the PS *qatVl and its use in the *qatal- construction –, commonly appear in performative utterances as demonstrated by the following English (37.a-b), Polish (37.cd) and Spanish (37.e-f) examples: (37) a. Promised! making a promise) b. Overruled! (when a motion) c. Obiecane! (when promise) Promised! d. Uzgodnione! (when agreement) Agreed!

(when pronounced at the moment of pronounced at the moment of disregarding pronounced at the moment of making a pronounced at the moment of making an

214

ALEXANDER ANDRASON

e. Prometido! (when pronounced at the moment of making a promise) Promised! Consequently, since the BH qatal is a successor of the PS resultative predicative periphrasis built on the verbal adjective (or using an alternative label, on the resultative participle), the ability to convey the performative force was “innate” from the origin. This sense was simply preserved at the biblical period as one of the components of the semantic network of the gram. One may also identify another original property of the PS *qatVl and *qatal- that justifies the use of its BH successor with a performative force. According to typological studies, resultative verbal adjectives and resultatives built on such entities commonly display a non-agentive character and a de-transitive effect on the underlying verbs (Nedjalkov 2001:928). First, they regularly describe the state acquired by an entity which has suffered or experienced a given action. Second, depending on the argument structure offered by the underlying verb (i.e. by the verb from which the participle has been derived), this receptor-element may function as either an intransitive “patientive” or intransitive non-agentive subject (Haspelmath 1994:159). Put differently, when resultative adjectives or resultative proper grams are derived from underlying transitive verbs, the argument structured is rearranged and they usually offer a passive value. When they derive from intransitive predicates, no valency (or argument structure) 42 changes are involved and the form shows an active character in accordance with the underlying verb. In both cases, however, the ensuing locution is prototypically intransitive. Such a de-transitive force is what links resultatives to present passives. This relationship may also be perceived in the fact that in certain languages, resultatives and passives of transitive verbs display the same form or that a passive is employed to express the resultative meaning (socalled ‘statal passive’; Maslov 1988 and Nedjalkov 2001:937). Present passives, in turn, statal or actional, may quite commonly provide performative values with no restriction as concerning the verbal root. In other words, the present passive is a productive performative category. All verbs are virtually acceptable and the only constraints correspond to the felicity conditions and existence of the procedure. Of course, the PS *qatalis not a systematic passive; but, on the other hand, as a prototypical passive, 42

More technically, the concept of valency makes reference to the number of arguments controlled by a verbal predicate.

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

215

it does show a de-transitive force (cf. Huenergard 2005:26-27 and 221-222). This archaic property may still be observed in the Akkadian parsāku (labelled also ‘permansive’ or ‘stative’), a panchronically earlier cognate of the BH qatal (Bergsträsser-Daniels 1983:13, Lipinski 2001, Kienast 2001 and Andrason 2011a:199-205 and 287-288). Namely, the gram was almost invariably an intransitive category—a passive when derived from transitive stems and active when derived from intransitive verbs. Consequently, we may state the following: the fact that the qatal is a successor of the PS *qatal- formation built on a formally analogical verbal adjective (i.e. on the *qatVl employed in the predicative function) implies that as any exemplary resultative derived from verbal adjectives, it could originally “lean itself” for an unrestricted performative use. Namely, the locution of the type of (it is) gone or (it is) done may with an equal propensity be employed to state that something is concluded (it describes an acquired state of an entity) and to perform acts (for instance, by saying it, the enunciator certifies that something becomes finished—my words equal the accomplishment of the activity). Furthermore, in cases of underlying transitive verbs, the gram shows a de-transitive force approximating the statal present passive—a category that may extensively be used for performative purposes. As a result, the diachronic evidence confirms our typologically and synchronically based proposal: the performative value of the BH qatal may be rationalized as a logical component of the meaning displayed by the qatal, viz. when the gram’s semantic potential is spatially networked in accordance with the anterior path representation the performative sense corresponds to one of the cline’s original segments.

3.3. PROPERTIES OF THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL AND ITS PANCHRONIC INTERPRETATION 3.3.1 PROPERTIES OF THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL AS AN INDICATOR OF A GRAMMATICAL ADVANCEMENT In the previous section, we have demonstrated that the performative function of the BH qatal may be harmonized with the total meaning of the gram, making use of the panchronically charted network of senses. Since various values of the qatal can be spatially portrayed as stages of the anterior path, and since this path presupposes a segment reserved for the performative sense, the performative use of the BH suffix conjugation might also be logically accommodated within the same type of geometrical mapping, i.e. within the anterior trajectory. Thus, the fact that the qatal is able to be employed with a performative force has received its explanation and solid justification.

216

ALEXANDER ANDRASON

It shall be noted that the above-explained natural and, as supported by diachronic data, original property of the qatal to be used with a performative sense is weakened in Biblical Hebrew. It is certainly not employed in the performative function with normality, typical for resultative proper grams. Quite the reverse, the use of the BH suffix conjugation with a performative force is subjected to several restrictions. However, in section 3.1 we have demonstrated that although the use of the performative qatal is limited, being one of the least frequent senses the gram can convey, it is not extremely rare and odd. We have detected the following facts that prove only a partial accomplishment of the process that leads to a total restriction of the performative function (as in old perfects) and to its subsequent elimination (as in past tenses; cf. section 2.2). First, the performative qatal may be found in various biblical books. Second, it admits at least nineteen distinct verbs or roots. Third, it provides examples of verbs that belong to the five major groups of prototypical performatives. Put differently, one may encounter instances where expositive, exercitive, commissive, behabitive and verdictive predicates are used in the qatal forms with a corresponding performative force. This indicates, in turn, that the qatal is thus compatible with the entire variety of the performative speech act. Fourth, likewise non-prototypical performative verbs—i.e. predicates that do not belong to the previously mentioned classes—may be employed in the qatal form in order to perform activities and modify reality. Certainly, such cases are highly uncommon. Nevertheless, the sole fact that they do exist is worth noticing, for it shows that the performative ability of the gram has not been limited to exemplary performative verbs only. Consequently, we are empowered to affirm that the performative value of the qatal is neither unrestricted as it could be at the initial resultative proper stage, nor is it profoundly limited and anomalous; albeit seldom met with nonperformative predicates, it is still quite regular with performative verbs displaying examples of all five performative classes. Having stated this, a question arises of whether and how this partial weakening of the performative function of the BH qatal can be conciliated with the panchronic definition of the gram in terms of an advanced postresultative formation? The answer may again be provided by making use of the dynamic analysis. Namely, the synchronically attested deterioration of the availability to and propensity for being used in performative utterances stems from a profound grammaticalization of the construction and its advancement on the anterior path. Let us explain this statement in a detailed manner, first discussing the structural and subsequently semantic progression of the gram.

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

217

3.3.1 PANCHRONIC ADVANCEMENT OF THE QATAL AND ITS IMPLICATION FOR THE PERFORMATIVE VALUE

Formal advancement As mentioned above, the original predicative resultative built upon the verbal adjective *qatVl—as still documented by the Akkadian parsāku—was an intransitive and, in the case of underlying transitive verbs, de-transitive formation. Namely, when the locution was derived from transitive verbs, the value was almost constantly passive. In such cases, the direct object of an underlying verb became the subject (patient) of the predicate while the transitive subject of the underlying verbal form was removed. Thus, the formation diverged from other conjugations such as the iprus, iparras or iptaras rejecting transitive uses and converging active transitive constructions into intransitive passive ones (on this universal behavior of resultatives in respect to valency, see again Nedjalkov 2001:929; cf. also section 3.2.2 above). In Biblical Hebrew, the qatal form, due to its profound grammaticalization and fientivization, ceased being a “divergent”—as the arrangement of verbal arguments is involved—verbal conjugation. In the Hebrew Bible, subjects and objects of the qatal coincide with subjects and objects expressed by other grams, such as the yiqtol, wayyiqtol or qotel. This means that the originally passive type of the archaic predicative resultative locution has been leveled to an active one, in accordance with the dominant verbal pattern. At this moment, the structure of arguments or the valency of a verb is identical to that which is displayed by all the remaining central verbal constructions. Put differently, the qatal lost its invariably intransitive and especially (when derived from transitive verbs) passive character. When this happened, the formation was likewise bereaved of the ability to be employed in an unrestricted manner with a performative force: it was no longer a predicative verbal resultative proper—an archetypal intransitive and, if possible, passive form. Thus, the readings such as (it is) overruled, done, arrested etc. ceased being possible. Now the gram meant he has overruled, he has done and he has arrested. The qatal acquired a dynamic (present) perfect function—it became an anterior gram. The beginnings of this change may already be observed in Akkadian where certain verbs derived the so-called transitive parsāku form. In such cases, a given underlying transitive verb offered two alternative formations, one intransitive passive (more original and still more typical) and another transitive in accordance with the argument structure encountered in the basic verb and in the remaining conjugations (Huehnergard 2005). It shall be noted that the phenomenon of leveling of the argument arrangement in original resultative grams is not typologically rare. Quite the reverse, it is

218

ALEXANDER ANDRASON

one of the most common changes that occur during the transformation of the resultative proper into a perfect (Nedjalkov 2001:928-929, 932, 937938). 43 Semantic advancement Also the regular, semantic advancement of the qatal harmonizes with a partial reduction of its performative sense. As previously stated, at the time of the biblical text, the qatal has reached the stage of a prototypical advanced anterior gram. It may be employed as a present perfect (including all of its subtypes such as inclusive, resultative, frequentative and experiential anterior) although the inclusive perfect meaning is significantly less prominent. It is also used as an indefinite and definite (in discourse and personal narration) past, as well as perfective and simple past. Thus, the meaning of the gram spanned almost the entire trajectory up to the simple past tense. Two spatial lacunae must however be noted: first, the qatal has not reached the stage of the narrative past tense (it is not used as a narrative past tense—a preterite) and second, the initial resultative proper value has been lost. Consequently, the stages on the anterior cline that correspond to these senses are not included in the semantic network of the gram. Typological studies teach us that in advanced anteriors—such as the BH qatal –, the ability to express a performative sense is greatly weakened, being usually restricted to verba dicendi and other prototypical performative predicates (cf. section 2.2 and especially 2.2.4 above). This is precisely what occurs in Biblical Hebrew. As a result, the weakening of the performative value of the qatal agrees with the typological nature of old perfects and in particular, the fact that the BH gram has lost its ability to convey resultative proper meaning. Consequently, as the majority of advanced perfects, the BH qatal ceased being a productive performative construction. The performative use is almost invariably limited to exemplary performative verbs. On the other hand, since the inclusive perfect value is still—although not very commonly—perceivable in the Hebrew Bible, it is not surprising that the performative sense remains quite regular within the class of such prototypically performative verbs, being even occasionally encountered with non-performative predicates.

It may, for instance, be encountered in certain Italian dialects or in Macedonian (Dahl 2000). 43

MAKING IT SOUND: THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL

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3.3.2 POSTERIOR INCREASE IN THE ADVANCEMENT AND ITS IMPLICATION FOR THE PERFORMATIVE QATAL Posterior diachronic development of the suffix conjugation in Rabbinic and Modern Hebrew and particularly the fate of the performative function itself confirm our rationalization of the performative qatal and its properties. In Rabbinic Hebrew (RH), the qatal form greatly advanced on the anterior path. It became a narrative past form, although still preserving various perfect uses. As a profoundly advanced anterior—a very old perfect—the ability to convey a performative sense has been importantly weakened. The performative qatal may only be found in a few doubtful cases and always with prototypical performative predicates (cf. Mishor 1983:36 and Pérez 1992:186). As correctly observed by Rogland (2002:128), the performative qatal has almost disappeared in the Mishnaic period.

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m. B. Qam. 1.2

‫כל שחבתי בשמירתו הכשרתי את נזקו‬ De todo lo que me he obligado a custodiar, me responsabilizo de su daño (Pérez 1992:183) This loss is even more evident in Modern Hebrew (MH), 44 where the gram does not convey the performative value at all, even with prototypically performative roots. In Modern Hebrew, the qatal form is employed either as a dynamic perfect or as a past. According to Glinert (2005:35) and Amir Coffin & Bolozky (2005:38), it can function as a present perfect (I have got up), a perfective past (I got up), an imperfective (i.e. progressive and continuous) past (I was getting up) and a pluperfect (I had got up). It is a narrative past tense per excellence. Moreover, as far as the perfect taxis 627F

Although Modern Hebrew is historically and sociologically disconnected from Biblical and Rabbinic varieties, in the present paper, it treated as a linguistic object that systematically reflects more advanced stages of processes which have been identified in these two older languages. In fact, even though some consider Modern Hebrew a creolized language with Slavic and Germanic substrates (Blanc 1968 and Wexler 1991), its validity for the panchronic view remains solid and untouched. In general terms, pidgins, creoles and koinés commonly display a more advanced and more drastic functional development than their superstrate inputs (Croft 2003 y Holm 1988) and thus, may be employed to demonstrate the soundness of the explanation proposed for their original linguistic source (Andrason 2008:121-140, 2010a:47-49). The genetic relation of the Modern Hebrew with the Semitic family has been defended by Rosen (1977:24) and SáenzBadillos (1996:277). 44

220

ALEXANDER ANDRASON

domain is concerned, it shall be noted that the value of an inclusive anterior is expressed in Modern Hebrew by the present tense qotel rather than by the qatal. Inversely, this signifies that the MH qatal’s semantic map does not include any more the space reserved for the inclusive perfect. Consequently, it is not surprising that the qatal has lost any performative capacity: being a profoundly advanced old perfect with the inclusive perfect domain removed from its semantics, it would indeed be typologically implausible if the gram could be employed to overtly perform speech acts.

4. CONCLUSION 4.1. PRINCIPAL RESULTS OF THE STUDY In the previous sections, we have demonstrated that the enigma of the performative qatal may be successfully solved. Namely, in accordance with our research objectives, we have shown that this function is fully compatible with the remaining components of the semantic load offered by the suffix conjugation. First, having admitted that the meaning of a verbal gram equals a network of senses the construction can display; that such senses are obligatory related; and finally that mapping which links the network’s constituents reflects a diachronic progression codified in a model of linear paths, we assumed that a certain path-network shall likewise account for the qatal and its performative value. Since the qatal had been defined as a manifestation of a prototypical anterior trajectory—and thus its semantic potential spatially portrayed as a portion of the anterior path –, we have hypothesized that the anterior cline must per definitione accommodate the performative sense. We have begun the corroboration of this postulate by demonstrating that the performative meaning is related to grams classified as manifestations of the anterior path. Most importantly, we have specified the exact location of the performative value-stage on the trajectory: it is situated following the resultative proper stage and preceding the resultative perfect phase, right after the inclusive perfect phase. We have also observed that with the progress along the anterior path, the capacity of an originally resultative gram to convey the performative meaning diminishes: it is unrestricted and productive in resultative proper grams, non-productive and limited to prototypical performative verbs in young and, especially, old perfects, and finally missing in past tenses. Once the location of the performative sense-stage has been determined within the panchronic network of values displayed by resultatives and their descendants (i.e. on the anterior path), we have

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introduced the most relevant examples of the performative qatal in the Hebrew Bible. This inventory of cases has shown that the performative use of the qatal, although certainly less common than other senses (e.g. perfect and past values), is not extremely odd or rare. It can be detected in various books of the Bible being represented by at least nineteen different verbs or roots. Moreover, our evidence has demonstrated that the five main categories of prototypical performative verbs (i.e. expositives, exercitive, commissive, behabitive and verdictive) may still be found in the biblical material. Additionally, in very few cases, other non-exemplary performative predicates appear in the qatal form with a performative force. Next, employing the previously established linear representation for the polysemy of resultatives and their successors, and thus keeping in mind the exact location of the performative value on the anterior path, we have demonstrated that the performative qatal may be fully harmonized with the remaining semantic potential of the gram. Since several values of the qatal can be spatially portrayed as stages of the anterior path, and since this path presupposes a segment reserved for the performative sense, likewise the performative use of the BH suffix conjugation may logically be accommodated within the same type of spatial mapping, i.e. within the anterior trajectory. Consequently, the performative value receives its “place” in the meaning of the gram or in the network of senses displayed by the formation and connected by the panchronic mapping. This rationalization of the performative value of the qatal has furthermore been substantiated by certain diachronic facts and their typological interpretations. First, we have observed that the BH suffix conjugation is a descendant of the PS *qatal- formation, which itself was built on a formally analogical verbal adjective *qatVl employed in the predicative function. Such locutions naturally favor an unrestricted performative use. Second, in cases of underlying transitive verbs, the PS gram originally showed a de-transitive force approximating the statal present passive. Again, this category is extensively used for performative purposes in the world’s languages. Furthermore, we have shown that the properties of the performative qatal entirely harmonize with the qatal defined as an advanced portion of the anterior path. Being an old perfect, the gram displays a regular weakening of the performative sense. This phenomenon has its roots in a profound grammaticalization of the construction and advancement on the anterior trajectory. As for the former growth, the formation modified its argument structure losing an invariably intransitive and (when derived from transitive verbs) passive character. This change eliminated an unrestrictive ability of the qatal —now an active and (when possible) transitive construction—to

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appear in a performative function. The gram ceased being a predicative verbal resultative proper—a category similar to the statal-passive, highly productive for performatives—and became a dynamic perfect. As for the latter development, the semantic advancement of the qatal triggered further limitations in its performative use. At the biblical time, the formation reached the stage of a prototypical old anterior, being even admissible as a definite discursive past. Thus, its meaning spanned almost the entire trajectory with the exception of the initial resultative proper value and the terminal narrative past stages. In accordance with the typological universal tendency, whereby advanced perfects cease being productive performative constructions, the performative use of the qatal is almost invariably limited to exemplary performative verbs. However, we have emphasized that the performative qatal remains relatively regular with such prototypically performative predicates (all the five performative classes are represented), being even found with non-performative verbs. We affirmed that this nontotal rareness of the performative qatal stems from the fact that the inclusive perfect sense (typologically linked to the performative value) is still—although not very frequently—available in Biblical Hebrew. Finally, posterior diachronic development of the qatal in Rabbinic and Modern Hebrew confirmed the above-formulated statements. As the qatal progressed on the anterior path, the performative use became extremely sporadic in the Rabbinic variety, entirely disappearing in Modern Hebrew. Summa summarum, we have demonstrated that the performative qatal is a logical well-balanced and, even, expected component of the meaning of the qatal. It may be fully rationalized and harmonized with the remaining senses of the gram, if we use the anterior path model as an instrument for charting of senses displayed by the suffix conjugation.

4.2. “BYPRODUCTS” OF THE RESEARCH Our study has not only provided a harmonization of the entire semantic potential of the qatal, conciliating the performative use with other values, but also offers valuable typological discoveries—or confirmation and further refinement of certain typological principles already observed –, presenting rules that govern the emergence, distribution and development of the performative sense in originally resultative grams and their successors. First, our research confirmed the relation between resultatives and perfects, on the one hand, and the performative sense on the other. However, we have greatly improved the explanatory model for this wellknown typological fact, showing that the performative force is gradually weakened with advancement on the anterior path and that it corresponds to

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one of the original stages of the anterior path. As for the former statement, we have detect the following tendency: resultatives proper grams are common and productive in performative utterances; young perfects cease being productive (viz. the performative function is limited to prototypical performative verbs); old perfects, entirely unproductive, display further reduction in the performative use (sometimes to the degree that the performative value vanishes); and finally, exclusive past tenses systematically fail to be used in performative utterances. This evolutionary trend has also been corroborated by the nature of the performative qatal —as expected for advanced old perfects the performative use is generally restricted to prototypical performative verbs. As for the former proposition, we have located the performative segment on the anterior path immediately after the resultative proper and inclusive perfect stages and right before the resultative perfect phase. Second, we have introduced new data suggesting that the loss or weakening of the performative value may likewise be connected to the availability of the inclusive perfect value. In accordance with this tendency, although the resultative proper sense is lost, a gram may still express a performative value (even quite commonly when derived from prototypical performative verbs) under the condition that the inclusive perfect sense remains preserved. Again, this typological propensity is supported by the characteristics offered by the qatal: at the biblical period, the gram conserved the inclusive perfect value and thus maintained a limited (but not extremely rare) performative sense. Later, when the inclusive meaning was deteriorated and lost—as in Rabbinic and Modern Hebrew –, the performative perfect qatal similarly dwindled and finally vanished. And third, we have introduced further evidence confirming the connection between the ability to convey the performative value and the intransitive or de-transitive (in case of underlying transitive verbs) nature of original resultative proper grams. In accordance with this principle, we have observed that the re-modification of the argument structure of the qatal has led to the situation where the gram was inadmissible in the function of a statal passive. When this happened, equaling a dynamic perfect, the formation lost the capacity to be employed in an unrestricted manner with a performative force, as is typically observed with statal passives.

4.3. LOOKING TOWARDS FUTURE Although the objectives of our research have been achieved, this article did not respond to all questions related to the performative qatal. Most importantly, a comprehensive empirical study must be undertaken whereby—using the canonical understanding of performatives as

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established by Austin (1962) and confirmed by Dahl (2008)—all possible cases of the performative qatal would be detected. This means that a complete review of all instances where the qatal appears with the performative force in the Hebrew Bible—thus, examples that greatly surpass the “classical” set of verba dicendi—must be compiled. This empirical study is crucial not only because of its obvious benefit—i.e. it will bestow grammarians and translators with a comprehensive inventory of the performative qatal forms –, but also due to its relevance for solving other, still uncertain, issues. First, it will show the precise weight (i.e. frequency) of the performative qatal as compared to other senses conveyed by the suffix conjugation as well as in relation to the overall semantic potential of the gram. Second, it will determine the exact incidence of different performative subtypes (expositive, exercitive, commissive, behabitive and verdictive), specifying those uses that are typical (frequent) and those that are rare (infrequent). Third, it will profile the distribution of the performative sense of the suffix conjugation in different books of the Bible, demonstrating its—similar or dissimilar—behavior in Early Biblical Hebrew, Biblical Hebrew and Late Biblical Hebrew. Additionally, a comprehensive research endeavor shall be undertaken in respect to the relations between cognates of the BH qatal in other Semitic languages and the performative function. All of these research imperatives will necessarily constitute priorities in the forthcoming academic activities of the author.

REFERENCES Aikhenvald, A. 2004. Evidentiality. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Andersen, D. 2000. The Evolution of the Hebrew Verbal System.Zeitschrift fur Althebraistik 13: 1-66. Andrason, A. 2008. The BÚNA construction in Pidgin Icelandic. Íslenskt mál 30: 121-140. . 2010a. The panchronic yiqtol. Functionally consistent and cognitively plausible. Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, 10/10: 1-63. . 2010b. The “guessing” QATAL—the BH suffix conjugation as a manifestation of the evidential trajectory. Journal for Semitics 19/2: 603-627. . 2010c. The Akkadian Iprus from the unidirectional perspective. Journal of Semitic Studies 55/2: 325-345. . 2011a. Qatal, yiqtol, weqatal y wayyiqtol. Modelo pancrónico del sistema verbal de la lengua hebrea bíblica con el análisis adicional de los sistemas verbales de las lenguas acadia y árabe. Madrid: Publicaciones de Universidad Complutense.

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. 2011b. The Biblical Hebrew verbal system in light of grammaticalization—the second generation. Hebrew Studies 52: 19-51. . 2011c. The BH weqatal. A homogenous form with no haphazard functions. Part 1. Journal of Northwest Semitic Languages 37/2: 1-25. . 2011d. The Biblical Hebrew Wayyiqtol—a dynamic definition. Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 11/7: 1-50. . 2012a. The BH weqatal. A homogenous form with no haphazard functions. Part 2. Journal of Northwest Semitic Languages 38/1: 1-30. . 2012b (in review). The meaning of the YE constructions in Basse Mandinka. . forthcoming. Thermodynamic model of the Biblical Hebrew verbal system. In Grammaticalisation in Semitic. Journal of Semitic Studies Supplement Series, ed. D. Eades. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Austin, J. L. 1962. How to Do Things with Words Oxford: Clarendon Press. Bergstrasser, G.—P. T. Daniels. 1983. Introduction to the Semitic languages: text specimens and grammatical sketches (Transl. with notes and bibliography and an appendix on the scripts by Peter T. Daniels). Winona Lake, Indiana: Eisenbrauns. Bibzin, H. 1974. Die ‘Tempora’ im Hiobdialog. (PhD dissertation. PhilippsUniversität Marburg) Marburg, Lahn: Görich & Weiershäuser. Blanc, H. 1968. The Israeli Koiné as an Emergent National Standard. Pp. 237-252 in Language Problems in Developing Nations, eds. J. A. Fishman et al. New York: Willey & Sons. Bubenik, V. 1998. Grammatical and lexical aspect in Akkadian and ProtoSemitic. Pp. 41-56 in Historical Linguistics 1997, eds. M. Schmid, J. Austin, & D. Stein. Amsterdam, Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Bublitz, W. 2009. Englische Pragmatik—Eine Einführung. Berlin: Erich Schmidt. Bybee, J., R. Perkins, & W. Pagliuca. 1994. The Evolution of Grammar. Chicago, London: The University of Chicago Press. Cancik-Kirschbaum, E. C. 1996. Die mittelassyrischen Briefe aus Tall Šēḫ Ḥamad. BATSH 4, Texte 1. Berlin: Dietrich Reimer Verlag. Coffin, E. A. & S. Bolozky. 2005. A Reference Grammar of Modern Hebrew. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Cook, J. 2002. The Biblical Hebrew Verbal System: A Grammaticalization Approach. (PhD dissertation. Department of Hebrew and Semitic Studies, University of Wisconsin-Madison) Corriente, F. 1988. Gramática árabe. Barcelona: Editorial Herder. Croft, W. 2003. Typology and Universals. 2nd ed. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

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Dahl, E. 2008. Performative Sentences and the Morphosyntax-Semantics Interface in Archaic Vedic. Journal of South Asian Literature 1/1: 727. Dahl, Ö. 2000a. The Tense and Aspect Systems of European Languages in a Typological Perspective. Pp. 3.–25 in Tense and Aspect in the Languages of Europe, ed. Ö. Dahl. Berlin, New York: Mouton de Gruyter. (ed.). 2000b. Tense and Aspect in the Languages of Europe. Berlin, New York: Mouton de Gruyter. Danecki, J. 1994. Gramatyka języka arabskiego. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Akademickie Dialog. Davidson, A. B. 1902. Hebrew Syntax. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. Denz, A. 1982-1992. Die Struktur des Klassischen Arabisch. Pp. 58-82 in Grundriß der Arabischen Philologie. Band 1, ed. W. Fischer. Wiesbaden: Reichert. Driver, S. R. 1892. A treatise on the use of the tenses in Hebrew and some other syntactical problems. Oxford: Clarendon. Eskhult, M. 1990. Studies in Verbal Aspect and qarrative Technique in Biblical Hebrew Prose. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell. Evans, V. & M. Green. 2006. Cognitive linguistics: an introduction. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Francis, A. L. & H. F. Tatum. 1919. An Advanced Latin Syntax. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Gentry, J. 1998. The System of the Finite Verb in Classical Biblical Hebrew. Hebrew Studies 39: 7-39. Gesenius, W., E. Kautsch, & A. Cowley. 1909. Gesenius’ Hebrew Grammar. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Glinert, L. 2005. The Grammar of Modern Hebrew. New York & London: Routledge. Greenberg, J. 1978. Diachrony, synchrony and language universals. Pp. 6192 in Universals of human language, eds. J. Greenberg, C. Ferguson, & E. Moravcsik. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Greenough, J. B. et al. 1903/1983. Allen and Greenough’s New Latin Grammar. New Rochelle, New York: Aristide D. Caratzas Publisher. Grevisse, M. 1975. Le bon usage. Gembloux: Duculot. Haspelmath, M. 1994. Passive Participles across Languages. Pp. 151-177 in Voice: Form and Function, eds. B. A. Fox & P. J. Hopper. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Haywood, J. A. & H. M. Nahmad. 1965. A new Arabic grammar. London: Lund Humphries.

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Heine, B., Claudi, U., & Hünnemeyer, F. 1991. Grammaticalization. A Conceptual Framework. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Heine, B. & T. Kuteva. 2007. The Genesis of Grammar: a Reconstruction. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hendel, R. S. 1996. In the Margins of the Hebrew Verbal System: Situation, Tense, Aspect, Mood. Zeitschrift für Althebraistik 9: 152–81. Hillers D. R. 1995. Some Performative Utterances in the Bible. Pp. 757-766 in Pomegranates and Golden Bells: Studies in Biblical, Jewish, and Near Eastern Ritual, Law, and Literature in Honor of Jacob Milgrom, eds. Wright, Freedman and Hurvitz. WinonaLake, IN: Eisenbrauns. Holm, J. 1988. Pidgins and Creoles. Vol. 1. Theory and Structure. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hopper, P. & E. Traugott. 2003. Grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Huehnergard, J. 1987. Stative, Predicative Form, Pseudo-Verb. Journal of Near Eastern Studies 46/3: 215-232. . 2005. A Grammar of Akkadian. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns. Isaksson, B. 1987. Studies in the Language of Qoholeth, with Special Emphasis on the Verbal System. Uppsala: Uppsala University. Jenni, E. 1978, Lehrbuch der hebräischen Sprache des Alten Testaments. Basel, Stuttgart: Helbing & Lichtenhavn. Jónsson, J. G. 1992. The Two Perfects of Icelandic. Íslenskt mál 14: 129145. Joosten, J. 1989. The Predicative Participle in Biblical Hebrew. Zeitschrift fur Althebraistik 2: 128-159. Joüon, P. 1923. Grammaire de l’hébreu biblique. Roma: Institute Biblique Pontifical. Joüon, P.—T. Muraoka. 2009. A Grammar of Biblical Hebrew. Roma: Gregorian & Biblical Press. Kienast, B. 2001. Historische Semitische Sprachwissenschaft. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag. Kozłowska, J. 1996. Gramatyka języka arabskiego. Ćwiczenia. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Akademickie Dialog. Lakoff, G. 1987. Women, fire, and dangerous things: What categories reveal about the mind. Chicago: University of Chicago. Lambdin, T. O. & J. Huehnergard. 1998. The Historical Grammar of Classical Hebrew: An Outline (Cambridge: Unpublished course handout). Leong, T. F. 1994. Tense, Mood and Aspect in Old Babylonian. (PhD dissertation. University of California, Los Angeles)

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THE MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG-STEM IN HEBREW AND T IRGALTÎ IN HOS 11:3* JEREMY M. HUTTON

UNIV. OF WISCONSIN MADISON

SAFWAT MARZOUK

ASSOCIATED MENNONITE BIBLICAL SEMINARY

*This paper is a thorough revision and elaboration of a paper originally submitted by Dr. Marzouk as partial fulfillment of coursework under Dr. Hutton at Princeton Theological Seminary. The authors are indebted to several individuals, all of whom provided assistance of some sort: Professors Aaron Rubin and Gary Rendsburg provided a number of helpful comments; Rubin also allowed access to his library. Professor John Huehnergard graciously provided access to his personal bibliography of articles on the t-stems in Semitic, of which we hope to have made good—but judicious!—use. Two research assistants from two different institutions (Princeton Theological Seminary and the University of Wisconsin-Madison) collected and sifted relevant data; these are Dr. Robin McCall (PTS) and Mr. Kevin Mattison (UW). This paper is one of three related studies. Hutton has recently published a morphological study, with which much of the text of section II.c here overlaps, as: Jeremy M. Hutton, “A Morphosyntactic Explanation of təpôṣôtîkem (Jer 25:34),” in R. Hasselbach and N. Pat-El (eds.), Language and Nature: Papers Presented to John Huehnergard on the Occasion of His 60th Birthday (Studies in Ancient Oriental Civilization, 67; Chicago: The Oriental Institute, 2012), 151–69. It is with the permission of the Oriental Institute (especially the managing editor of the publication unit, Thomas G. Urban) that text originally published there has been reused. Additionally, Hutton plans to publish a semantic investigation of the lexeme under investigation here under the title “The Meaning of tirgaltî in Hos 11:3: A Cognitive Grammar Approach.”

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JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK

The Masoretic Text (MT) of Hos 11:3a reads ‫וְ ָאנ ִֹכי ִת ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי ְל ֶא ְפ ַריִ ם ָק ָחם‬ ‫ﬠל־זְ רוֹע ָֹתיו‬. ַ Although the entire verse is difficult, the form and meaning of the word ‫( ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬tirgaltî) has been especially problematic for interpreters from the beginning of attempts to translate the passage.1 These difficulties emerge from the morphological peculiarities of the word, as well as from the lexicographic difficulties it presents. The present article proceeds from the conviction that an adequate solution to the second problem— lexicography—requires a sufficiently comprehensive answer to the first problem—morphology. Unfortunately, although we remain optimistic that a lexicological answer to the questionable semantic field of the word ‫ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬ may eventually be given, such an explanation cannot be made without significant exegetical elaboration, space for which is unavailable in the confines of the present article. Therefore, the explicit goal of the present article is to propose a solution to the former problem—the morphology of ‫תּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬.ִ In the present study, we will clarify the morphological development undergone by the form ‫תּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬.ִ The peculiarities of the word’s development will lead to several conclusions concerning the linguistic context in which Hos 11:3 was written. We trace the word to a tG-stem form, comparable to the Aramaic hitpeʿel or itpeʿel. We argue that the form has been conditioned by its morphosyntactic environment and therefore does not exhibit some of the expected hallmarks of such forms, such as the prefixed ‫ה‬. This analysis provides some degree of confirmation that northern (i.e., Israelian) Hebrew (IH) 2 contained a semi-productive tG-stem. 3 Yet before the morphological 629F

630F

631F

A.A. Macintosh provides a valuable survey of the literature, presented here in abbreviated form (A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Hosea [ICC, 28B; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1997], 442–43, 445). 2 For the concept of “Israelian Hebrew” as distinct from the Judahite Hebrew that later became the predominant dialect represented in the Hebrew Bible, see, e.g., G.A. Rendsburg, Israelian Hebrew in the Book of Kings (Occasional Publications of the Department of Near Eastern Studies and the Program of Jewish Studies, Cornell University, 5; Bethesda, Md.: CDL, 2002), 17. Concerning IH, Rendsburg states: “this is most likely a dialect cluster, incorporating a variety of dialects such as Ephraimite Hebrew, Transjordanian Hebrew, and Galilean Hebrew. In general, we do not possess the quantity of data necessary to make such small distinctions, so we content ourselves with the umbrella term IH, recognizing it as the polar contrast to JH [Judahite Hebrew]” (ibid.). 3 By “semi-productive” we intend to indicate a grammatical form that, when analyzed synchronically, is used in new formulations and compositions (i.e., is productive), while at the same time, when viewed diachronically, is in the process of becoming vestigial. Because the tG-stem was used in a variety of forms and with at least five different verbal roots (see below, section II.c), it seems as though the 1

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

233

analysis of ‫ ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬may begin, a brief preliminary discussion of traditional interpretations of Hos 11:3 is necessary.

I. EARLIER INTERPRETATIONS The LXXB offers the apparently enigmatic συνεπόδισα, “I bound the feet [of Ephraim]” in its rendering of Hos 11:3a. Similarly, the Syro-Hexapla renders wʾnʾ pkrt lʾprym “I bound Ephraim.” The Greek verb συμποδίζω renders several Hebrew and Aramaic verbs throughout the LXX. In LXX Ps 17:40; 19:9; 77:31 [=MT 18:40; 20:9; 78:31], συμποδίζω is a translation of the Hebrew verb ‫“ כרע‬to bow down.” In Prov 20:11, it is a translation of the hitpaʿel of the Hebrew verb ‫נכר‬, meaning “to make oneself known” or “to be recognized.” In Zech 13:3, this same verb translates the Hebrew verb ‫“ דקר‬to pierce”; here the LXX translation has the effect of mitigating the punishment of the false prophet. None of these glosses provide an overwhelmingly sensible translation of Hos 11:3. However, in two clear cases συμποδίζω renders Hebrew or Aramaic words meaning “to bind”: the Aramaic ‫ כפת‬in Dan 3:20, 21, 23 (and in the LXX plus in v. 22), and the Hebrew verb ‫“ עקד‬to bind” in the LXXB of Gen 22:9. Other ancient witnesses translate the word much differently. For example, the Vulgate renders et ego quasi nutritius ephraim “and I was like a nurse/tutor to Ephraim.” Along similar lines, Symmachus rendered ‫ ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬with ἐπαιδαγώγουν “I trained, nurtured,” which seems to have been a rather liberal way of translating within the same semantic field utilized by Jerome. It is not entirely clear, however, what the semantic field “to bind” might have to do with “being a nurse.” Early in the religious tradition’s transmission history, interpretive attempts were made to unite these two glosses, “to bind” and “to be a nurse.” For example, St. Cyril of Alexandria (early-5th century CE) argued that [t]he comparison comes from what is done in the case of children: people picking up small babies in their hands bind them together [συμποδίζουσιν αὐτὰ], as it were, by holding their feet together. As I see it, everyone sitting down has to close their thighs and knees, which is the meaning of I bound together [συνεπόδισα], as is also recorded of stem was productive in northern Hebrew for at least part of the biblical period (until ca. 600 BCE). However, the rarity of the stem as it may be traced in Biblical Hebrew, combined with the clear indications that the stem was not recognized by the Masoretes as independent of the hitpaʿel, suggests that the tG-stem was already becoming vestigial—if not entirely so—by the time of the closure of the Hebrew canon.

234

JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK Abraham, that he bound together [συνεπόδισεν] his son Isaac when he was expecting to sacrifice him to God. Now, you should know that the Hebrews and even the other translators do not have the word bound together [συνεπόδισα], saying instead, “I was like a nurse to Ephraim.” 4

While this is a noble attempt to bridge the gaps between the competing interpretations, and one with much to recommend it, it does not provide an adequately sophisticated rationale for its lexicographic interpretation, translating instead on the basis of context. In the twentieth century, N.H. Tur-Sinai sought to bolster this combined “binding-nursing” interpretation by adducing Akk. tarkullu as a cognate of ‫תּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬.ִ 5 This cross-Semitic comparison, he argued, suggested that Heb. ‫ ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬indicated the binding of a baby in diapers. Unfortunately, the comparison is not compelling, because both AHw and CAD analyze the word tarkullu as a Sumerian loan, glossing “mooring post.” 6 Without the strong Semitic etymology based on the root √‫רגל‬, LXX’s translation with a specific type of “foot-” or “leg-binding” falls through, and the comparison loses its persuasiveness. 7 The other ancient witnesses are equally interpretive to those already mentioned. Theodotian renders κατὰ πόδας “I was at the heels of [Ephraim],” but this reading is exegetically difficult, and does not provide especially good sense in a context of parental care. Tg. Jon. reads ‫ַו ֲאנָא‬ ‫אוֹרח ָת ְקנָ א יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל‬ ַ ‫לאך ְשׁ ִליַ ח ִמן ֳק ָד ַמי ַד ַב ִרית ְב‬ ַ ‫“ ְב ַמ‬and I, with a messenger whom I sent, led Israel on the right path.” 8 The Peshiṭta glosses more mundanely, wʾnʾ dbrt lʾprym “I led Ephraim.” While all three translations preserve the self-evidently podiatric connotations of the verbal root √‫—רגל‬ if only implicitly—none provide a clear and overwhelming interpretation of the word ‫תּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬.ִ 63F

634F

635F

63F

4 St. Cyril, Comm. XII Proph (PG 71:158b); for this translation, see R.C. Hill, St. Cyril of Alexandria: Commentary on the Twelve Prophets. Vol. 1 (FC;

Washington D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2007), 212; we have inserted the original Greek ourselves. Compare especially the use of συμποδίζω to render Heb. ‫עקד‬, a translation equivalent mentioned above. 5 N.H. Tur-Sinai, The Plain Meaning of the Bible (Jerusalem: Kiryath Sepher, 1967), 3/2:431 (Hebrew); see also E. Ben Yehuda, Thesaurus totius hebraitatis et veteris et recentioris (Berlin: Langenscheidt, 1908–59), 7897 n. 2. 6 CAD 18[T]:236; cf. “Haltepflock” given in AHw, 1330. 7 Compare also Macintosh, Hosea, 443. 8 Here and below we cite the Aramaic translation of Tg. Jon. from A. Sperber, The Bible in Aramaic (3 vols. in one; Leiden: Brill, 2004), replacing the Babylonian pointing of the original with their Tiberian equivalents for ease of recognition.

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

235

Subsequent scholarship has fared little better in its interpretation of the passage. Ibn Janāḥ, a Medieval Jewish grammarian (early 11th century CE), provided two different meanings for the word, both proceeding from the assumption that the form was used in place of the causative ‫הרגלתי‬: “to be accustomed to” and “to lift up.” 9 With respect to the first, “this expression is in accordance with the ancestors’ description of the one who is accustomed to things as ‫ ;רגיל‬therefore, the translation of the phrase is ‘I made ‫ אפרים‬accustomed [to the fact that] I would take them on my arm’.” 10 However, after an explanation of the reading ‫זְ רוֹע ַֹתי‬, rather than MT’s ‫זְ רוֹע ָֹתיו‬, ibn Janāḥ suggested, 637F

638F

perhaps the meaning of ‫ תרגלתי‬is “I lifted up”; thus its translation is “I lifted up ‫אפרים‬, taking them upon my arm,” that is to say, “I lifted their feet up off the ground,” in the sense of [Exod. 19:4] ‫על־כנפי נשרים‬ ‫ואשא אתכם‬. This harmonizes with the expression of the Arabs tarajjala an-nahar, that is, means “[the daylight] has advanced”; the taʾ in both cases is used in place of haʾ, therefore, the form is tantamount to ‫הרגלתי‬.

Earlier, Jerome had made a similar observation with reference to Deut 1:31 and 32:11, probably leading to the Vulgate’s translation. 11 Ibn Janāḥ was joined in his assessment that ‫ ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬was used in place of a hipʿil form by Rashi and ibn Ezra, each of whom advocated a translation of ‫ ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬as “I 639F

Abu ’l-Walîd Marwân ibn Janāḥ, The Book of Hebrew Roots (ed. A. Neubauer; Oxford: Clarendon, 1875), 664. 10 We provide here Marzouk’s translation from the Arabic. See J. Buxtorf, Lexicon hebraicum et chaldaicum (Basil: König, 1663), 713: Assuefeci Ephraimum; and A. Schultens, Institutiones ad fundamenta linguae hebraeae (2nd ed.; Leiden: Luzac, 1756), 313. More recently, M. Jastrow has offered the translations: nipʿal “to be wont to”; hipʿil 2 “to make familiar, to accustom”; hipʿil 3 “to lead, to persuade”; and ‫ רגל‬afʿel “to lead, to accustom”; ithpaʿal “to accustom one’s self, make it a habit” (A Dictionary of the Targumim, the Talmud Babli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature [New York: Judaica Press, 1971], 1448–49, s.v. ‫)רגל‬. Macintosh followed this understanding of ‫( ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬Hosea, 441–42): “I applied myself assiduously”; but contrast the alternate explanation of the root’s development given by M.A. Zipor, “Talebearers, Peddlers, Spies, and Converts: The Adventures of the Biblical and Post-biblical Roots ‫ רג״ל‬and ‫רכ״ל‬,” HS 46 (2005), 138–144. Professor Gary Rendsburg has suggested to us (personal communication) that the semantic development of the root ‫ רגל‬in Mishnaic and later forms of Hebrew was most likely influenced by the Latin regula, and would therefore not be pertinent to the present investigation. 11 Macintosh, Hosea, 442. 9

236

JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK

taught to walk.” 12 Modern translators and commentators have generally followed the suggestions of these Medieval grammarians. 13 A survey of modern English translations shows that this causative sense of the word has become pervasive,14 and indeed most modern commentators gloss the verb along similar lines.15 These early and modern interpreters have in common For Rashi’s work, see H. Englander, “A Commentary on Rashi’s Grammatical Comments,” HUCA 17 (1942–1943), 427–98 (473). For ibn Ezra, see Macintosh, Hosea, 442. Cf. David Kimchi, who, with his brother Moses, preferred to interpret the word as a noun on analogy with ‫“ ִתּ ְפ ַא ְר ִתּי‬my beauty”; W. Chomsky, David Ḳimḥi’s Hebrew Grammar (Mikhlol) (Philadelphia: Dropsie College for Hebrew and Cognate Learning, 1933), 90 §25e. 12

Cf., however, M.D. Goldman’s proposal that the verb is a “rare causative” form with a root cognate to Arab. √RĞL “to allow to suck its mother,” compared (speciously) to Num 11:12, and meaning “to suckle” (“The Real Interpretation of Os 11,3,” AusBR 4 [1954–1955], 91–92; also see ThWAT, 7:343). Contrast Rudolph and Macintosh, who argue against this proposal, in light of the verb’s primary usage for animals, and only improbably for humans; W. Rudolph, Hosea (KAT; Stuttgart: Mohn, 1966), 209 n. 3; Macintosh, Hosea, 443. 13

14 See, e.g., KJV: “I taught Ephraim also to go”; ASV: “Yet I taught Ephraim to walk”; NIV: “It was I who taught Ephraim to walk”; NJB: “I myself taught Ephraim to walk”; RSV: “Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk”; NRSV: “Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk”; JPS: “And I, I taught Ephraim to walk”; cf. the anomalous TNK: “I have pampered Ephraim.” 15 See, e.g., Schultens, Institutiones, 314; GKC, 153 §55h; J. Olshausen, Lehrbuch der hebräischen Sprache (Braunschweig: Friedrich Vieweg & Sohn, 1861), 556 §255a; H. Ewald, Ausführliches Lehrbuch der Hebräischen Sprache des alten Bundes (Göttingen: Dieterich, 1870), 320 §122; B. Stade, Lehrbuch der hebräischen Grammatik (Leipzig: Vogel, 1879), 122 §159b; W.H. Green, A Grammar of the Hebrew Language (rev. ed., New York: Wiley & Sons, 1889), 129 §94a; E. König, Lehrgebäude der hebräischen Sprache (3 vols.; Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1881–1897), 3:380; BDB, 920a, s.v. ‫ רגל‬tipʿel; Englander, “Commentary,” 473; Rudolph, Hosea, 208; L.M. Kuriakos, Non-Paradigmatic Forms of Weak Verbs in Masoretic Hebrew (Quilon, Kerala State, India: Assisi Press, 1973), 121; H.W. Wolff, Hosea. A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Hosea (trans. G. Stansell; Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1974), 191; W. Kuhnigk, Nordwestsemitische Studien zum Hoseabuch (Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1974), 126; A. Szabó, “Textual Problems in Amos and Hosea,” VT 25 (1975), 500– 24 (524); J.L.R. Melnyk, “When Israel Was a Child: Ancient Near Eastern Adoption Formulas and the Relationship Between God and Israel,” in M.P. Graham, W.P. Brown, and J.K. Kuan (eds.), History and Interpretation: Essays in Honor of John

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

237

their understanding of ‫ ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬as a verbal form derived from some sort of oddly affixed stem tipʿel. Despite the overwhelming number of commentators who hold to this consensus view, several other interpreters have dissented, calling the verbal form a denominative verb, that is, a verb derived secondarily (i.e., verbalized) from an established nominal form. 16 English examples of denominative verbs would include “to chair (a meeting),” “to table (a resolution),” and “to critique (a paper).” These scholars may be divided roughly into two groups, distinguished by the respective semantic fields they attribute to the verb. The first group, led by J. Barth, apparently continues to gloss the verb causatively (which occasions his proposed translation “ich habe gegängelt?” [“I treated like a child”]), but apparently draws that connotation from the context rather than from any particular semantic addition occasioned by the t-prefix. 17 Here and elsewhere, Barth accounts for this word as a denominative verb formed from a t-preformative noun, claiming that the divergent semantic values of the proposed t-prefixed verbal root as indicating both reflexive and causative modulations of the verbal root negates the possibility of that verbal proposal.18 The second group, which includes many Hebrew grammarians, argues for a denominative origin of the word ‫ ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬having to do with “leading.” 19 Prominent within this group are F.I. Andersen and D.N. 64F

645F

64F

647F

H. Hayes (JSOTSup, 173; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993), 245–59 (253); D.A. Smith, “Kinship and Covenant in Hosea 11:1–4,” HBT 16 (June 1994), 41–51 (44); Y.J.

Yoo, “Israelian Hebrew in the Book of Hosea” (Ph.D. Diss.; Cornell University, 1999), 136; cf. R. Meyer, Hebräische Grammatik (4 vols.; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1966– 1972), 2:126 §72.1c; HALOT, 1184a, s.v. ‫ רגל‬tipʿel, which describes the existence of the tipʿel as “uncertain.” 16 For denominalization and its complementary process verbalization, see, e.g., T.E. Payne, Describing Morphosyntax. A Guide for Fieldlinguists (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 94–96 §5.2. 17 J. Barth, Die Nominalbilding in den Semitischen Sprachen (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1889), 278–279 §180a, and 279 n. 2. For this translation, see also F. Böttcher, Ausführliches Lehrbuch der Hebräischen Sprache (Leipzig: Barth, 1868), 2:281 §1015; and HALOT, 1184a, s.v. ‫ רגל‬tipʿel: “spoon-feed.” 18 J. Barth, “Zur Vergleichenden semitischen Grammatik,” ZDMG 48 (1894), 1–21 (19–20); cf. F.W.M. Philippi, Review of J. Barth, Die Nominalbildung in den

semitischen Sprachen. II: Die Nomina mit äusserer Vermehrung: Die gebrochenen Plurale, ZDMG 46 (1892), 149–72 (156–59). 19 E.g., GKC, 153 §55h (tentatively); Joüon, 1:169 §59e; HALOT, 1184a, s.v.

238

JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK

Freedman, who raise significant contextual and grammatical issues in opposition to the traditional (causative) translation of ‫תּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬.ִ 20 They argue that the causative interpretation “I taught to walk” is mistakenly founded on the persistent parental imagery throughout Hosea 11. Although this criticism is perhaps sensible, Andersen and Freedman go on to argue that 648F

[t]he denominative of rgl is the Pi‘el, which has the highly technical meaning “to spy, reconnoiter.” The need for another denominative verb for a different kind of walking could have evoked the Tip‘el, meaning “to lead, walk in front of.” The preformative is a morph which makes a quadriliteral root with a specialized meaning, here in a noun form. The action described is correlative with walking behind, the usual expression for loyal following of Yahweh. Such leadership was in evidence in the wilderness journey, and especially in entering the promised land. 21 649F

Andersen and Freedman therefore prefer to translate v. 3aα as “I was a guide for Ephraim,” 22 presumably on the basis of the Targum and Peshiṭta. Yet, several aspects of this solution are problematic: 1. The characterization of the t-preformative form as creating a “quadriliteral root” is dubious, since the lexical root remains √‫רגל‬, and is merely augmented by a putatively nominal preformative prefix. The verbal “root” is quadriliteral only insofar as the verb utilizes a (hypothesized, but unattested) noun ‫*תּ ְרגֵּ ל‬ ַ or the like as its verbal base. 2. The interpretive jump from the debated meaning of this root in the piʿel “to spy” to the “denominative” tipʿel meaning “to guide” is left without support or explanation. 23 Although it remains plausible that 650F

651F

‫ רגל‬tipʿel. See also H. Bauer and P. Leander, Historische Grammatik der hebräischen Sprache (Olms Paperbacks, 19; Halle: Niemeyer, 1922; repr., Hildesheim: Olms, 1991), 424 §57t″, s.v. ‫ ;חרה‬and Yoo, “Israelian Hebrew,” 136. 20 F.I. Andersen, and D.N. Freedman, Hosea: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB, 24; Garden City: Doubleday, 1980), 579. 21 Ibid. 22 Ibid., 574. 23 As N.J.C. Kouwenberg (Gemination in the Akkadian Verb [Studia Semitica Neerlandica, 33; Assen: Van Gorcum, 1997], 307–8, cited in M.P. Streck, Die akkadischen Verbalstämme mit ta-Infix [AOAT, 303; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2003], 72) has pointed out, The meaning of a denominative verb is closely associated with that of the source noun. Generally speaking, if X is the basic noun, the verb will mean… “to make X”, “to produce X”… if it is transitive… . An important criterion, then, for identifying denominative verbs and distinguishing them from ordinary verbs is whether the meaning of the source noun and the denominative verb are rather

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

239

Andersen and Freedman are correct in their assessment that “neither this [i.e., the reflexive] sense nor a causative (‘I made walk’) seems appropriate here,” 24 their argument is based only on the premise that the reflexive meaning is not suitable in this context, a supposition open to hermeneutical question because it is made on the basis of the interpreters’ desire to draw a specific meaning from the passage. The gloss is no less arbitrary a proposal than the traditional causative translation “I taught to walk.” 3. Finally, it is unclear how the “need for another denominative verb” could have “evoked” the tipʿel. This explanation makes it sound as though Andersen and Freedman believe the author of Hos 11:3 arbitrarily used an unproductive form to denote an invented concept. This supposition seems highly unlikely. Moreover, most clearly denominative verbs in Hebrew fall within the normal range of stems, and particularly the piʿel (e.g., ‫“ ִכּ ֵהן‬to serve as priest,” etc.). 25 Purportedly denominative forms in Hebrew falling outside of the normal range of stems are truly rare: possible forms alongside ‫ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬ (Hos 11:3) would be those Gesenius lists under his tipʿel: 26 (a) ‫ְתּ ַת ֲח ֶרה‬ and ‫מ ַת ֲח ֶרה‬, ְ respectively “you contend with” and “one contending with” (Jer 12:5; 22:15), and (b) ‫( ְמ ֻת ְרגָּ ם‬Ezr 4:7), which Brown, Driver, and Briggs derive from the root ‫תּ ְרגֵּ ם‬. ִ 27 Presumably, they have done so on analogy with the purported verb ‫תּ ְרגֵּ ל‬, ִ although they subsequently describe ‫ ִתּ ְרגֵּ ם‬as a quadriliteral root. Y.J. Yoo, citing L.M. Kuriakos, adduces a third form: (c) ‫יכם‬ ֶ ‫פוֹצוֹת‬ ִ ‫( ְתּ‬Jer 25:34), from the root ‫פוץ‬. 28 In opposition to the claims of Andersen and Freedman, a broad category of t-preformative nouns being used as denominative verbal base forms remains elusive. Only ‫ ְתּ ַת ֲח ֶרה‬and ‫ ְמ ַת ֲח ֶרה‬may be definitively linked with a 653F

654F

65F

65F

specific and closely similar, in the sense that they form the nominal and the verbal expression of a single action… . The more specialized this meaning is, the more certain we can be about the denominative character of the verb in question.

The close association required by Kouwenberg’s analysis is simply not manifested in Andersen and Freedman’s reconstruction. 24 Andersen and Freedman, Hosea, 579. 25 E.g., J. Blau, Phonology and Morphology of Biblical Hebrew (LSAWS, 2; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2010), 229 §4.3.5.4.1. See also IHBS, 410–14 §24.4 (for the piʿel; cf. p. 373 §22.5 for the qal and p. 391 §23.5 for the nipʿal). 26 GKC, 153 §55h. 27 BDB, 1076a, s.v. ‫תרגם‬. 28 Yoo, “Israelian Hebrew,” 136; but cf. Kuriakos, Non-Paradigmatic Forms, 120–21.

240

JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK

corresponding t-preformative noun attested in Classical Hebrew: Joüon points to the nominal form ‫תחרה‬, representing the underlying phonology taḥărâ, in Sir 31:29; 40:5.29 Unfortunately, the manuscript evidence is not entirely unequivocal. The full reading appears only in MS B at 31:29, although MS F contains the initial ‫ת‬. MS B provides the only extant text of 40:5, where it reads […]‫ תהר‬instead of the expected […]‫תחר‬. Although a marginal note to the left reads ‫מ׳ תח׳ וריב‬, correcting the hê to ḥêt here, 30 the LXX translates differently in both places: at MT 31:29 (=LXX 34:29), LXXB renders with ἐρεθισμός, but with μηνίαμα at 40:5 (cf. μήνιμα in LXXA‫)א‬. Moreover, although the single full appearance in MS B at 31:29 and the corrected appearance of the word in the same manuscript at 40:5 are sufficient to demonstrate that there was at some point in Hebrew a word taḥărâ related to Mishnaic Hebrew (MH) ‫ ַתּ ֲחרוּת‬and Aram. ‫ ַתּ ֲחרוּ‬and ‫רוּתא‬ ָ ‫תּ ֲח‬,ַ 31 the attestations are too late to serve as conclusive proof of the verb’s being a denominalization of the nouns. In each case, there is another, more probable explanation for the respective morphologies of these verbal forms, all relating to the commonly attested Semitic tG/Gt-stem. Handled in an order different from that given above, the following observations on each word can be made: (a) ‫ ְמ ֻת ְרגָּ ם‬is plausibly analyzed as showing direct influence from Aramaic, with its verbs ‫“ ִתּ ְרגֵּ ם‬to deliver, proclaim,” and ‫“ ַתּ ְרגֵּ ם‬to interpret, translate, explain,” 32 themselves attributed to Akkadian 657F

658F

659F

60F

29 30

Joüon, 1:169 §59e; see also BDB, 354a, s.v. ‫ חרה‬hitpaʿel. For text, see P.C. Beentjes, The Book of Ben Sira in Hebrew. A Text Edition

of All Extant Hebrew Manuscripts and a Synopsis of All Parallel Hebrew Ben Sira Texts (VTSup, 68; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 57, 69, 109, 147. 31 E.g., Avot d’Rabbi Natan A28:10–11 (ed. Schechter, p. 85); b. Berakhot 17a; Tg. Jon. Hab. 1:3 (‫רוּתא‬ ָ ‫;)תּ ֲח‬ ַ and Tg. Jon. Isa. 58:4 (‫)תּ ֲחרוּ‬. ַ Contrast, however, M. Sokoloff, who lists neither of these lexemes (A Dictionary of Jewish Babylonian Aramaic [=DJBA] [Ramat-Gan: Bar Ilan University Press, 2002]; idem, A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic [=DJPA] [2nd ed.; Ramat-Gan: Bar Ilan

University Press, 2002]). The lexeme does not seem to have been preserved in Syriac, judging from the fact that there is no corresponding entry in R. Payne Smith (ed.), Thesaurus Syriacus (2 vols.; Oxford: Clarendon, 1901); see similarly, J. Payne Smith, A Compendious Syriac Dictionary (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1902; repr., Ancient Language Resources; Eugene, Or.: Wipf & Stock, 1999); and M. Sokoloff, A Syriac Lexicon. A Translation from the Latin, Correction, Expansion, and Update of C. Brockelmann’s Lexicon Syriacum [Winona Lake, Ind./Piscataway, N.J.: Eisenbrauns/Gorgias Press, 2009]. 32 Jastrow, Dictionary, 1695–96, s.v. ‫;תּ ְרגֵּ ם‬ ִ Sokoloff, DJBA, 1231b–32a; idem,

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

241

influence (cf. the verb ragāmu, found in the Gt-stem in Old Assyrian, with the meaning “raise claims against each other,” 33 and in the more common Assyrian and Babylonian nominal form targumannu “interpreter, dragoman” 34). Although the root is undoubtedly native to pan-Semitic (see, e.g., Ug. √RGM), the distribution of the word as a quadriliteral verb in Aramaic (‫ )תרגם‬and Ethiopic (targwama) 35 would suggest that the word had already taken shape as a quadriliteral verb before it spread through several languages. Irrespective of whether the Hebrew form is a borrowing directly from Akkadian or indirectly from Akkadian through Aramaic, the form may be removed from discussion as a foreign loan. (b) Although ‫יכם‬ ֶ ‫פוֹצוֹת‬ ִ ‫ ְתּ‬is regularly taken to be either a product of textual corruption or a conflation of ‫ ָתּפוּצוּ‬and ‫יכם‬ ֶ ‫יצוֹת‬ ִ ‫ה ִפ‬,ֲ 36 the verb shows every indication of being a morphosyntactically conditioned 1.c.sg. suffix-conjugation with a prefixed ‫ת‬, showing regular development. 37 (c) Similarly, ‫ ְתּ ַת ֲח ֶרה‬and ‫ ְמ ַת ֲח ֶרה‬show indications of being a regularly affixed prefix-conjugation and participle, respectively, of a verbal stem containing a prefixed ‫ ת‬before the base. As previously mentioned, the Hebrew nominal forms ‫ תחרה‬and ‫ ַתּ ֲחרוּת‬have an Aramaic cognate in the word ‫רוּתא‬ ָ ‫תּ ֲח‬,ַ attested in Targumic Aramaic, but it would seem that this noun is itself a nominal form built from the same root as the ethpeʿel stem of Syriac (compare the common Aramaic hitpeʿel or ithpeʿel [see section II]), which seems to have been productive in this root: R. Payne Smith lists several examples—encompassing a number of different nuances—of the verb ʾeṯḥrā.38 61F

62F

63F

64F

65F

6F

These last two observations provide us with an alternative etymology of ‫ ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬to be explored. Consideration of ‫ ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬as a denominalizationverbalization of a supposed noun ‫ ִתּ ְרגֵּ ל‬is an inadequate understanding of DJPA, 591a. 33 AHw, 942a; CDA, 295a; CAD 14[R], 63b–64a. 34 AHw, 1329b; CDA, 400a; CAD 18[T], 229a–30a. 35 Wolf Leslau, Comparative Dictionary of Geʿez (Classical Ethiopic)

(Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1987), 579b–80a, and especially the discussion of the root’s origins there. 36 E.g., GKC, 258 §91l. 37 Hutton, “Morphosyntactic Explanation,” 151–69. 38 R. Payne Smith, Thesaurus, 1:1359a–b; see also J. Payne Smith, Dictionary, 155a–b; and Sokoloff, Syriac Lexicon, 490a. But cf. the discussion below in n. 99.

242

JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK

the verbal form under discussion. Instead, we propose that sensitivity to the three caveats raised above occasions a more philologically sound and contextually meaningful understanding of the verb ‫תּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬.ִ In the following argument, we suggest the author of Hos 11:3 used a productive—albeit rare—verbal stem that is the Hebrew remnant of the common Semitic tG/Gt-stem. A survey of cognate stems, of both tG- and Gt-form, in the other Semitic languages (sections II.a–b) provides the foundational principles whereby we explain the morphological development of ‫ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬ (rendered throughout the following discussion in Latin characters as tirgaltî). Although the tG-stem was rarely used in Classical Hebrew, a survey of its apparent occurrences (section II.c) will demonstrate its historical existence in at least one dialectal variant of this language, namely, Israelian Hebrew (IH). 39 In section II.c, we argue that the word does not take the normally expected form of a Hebrew tG-stem. Although the prefix ti- and the assumed original *i theme vowel (reduced to a in tirgaltî through the purported operation of Philippi’s law 40) have lent to the form tirgaltî the common stem name tipʿel, 41 the verb tirgaltî in fact displays an allomorph of the slightly more common Hebrew retention of the Proto-Semitic [PS] tGstem. 42 As will be demonstrated below, the expected form of the verb 67F

68F

69F

670F

39

136.

See, e.g., Böttcher, Lehrbuch, 2:281 §1015; and Yoo, “Israelian Hebrew,”

40 For which see T.O. Lambdin, “Philippi’s Law Reconsidered,” in Ann Kort and Scott Morschauser (eds.), Biblical and Related Studies Presented to Samuel Iwry (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1985), 135–45. 41 It is unclear why GKC (153 §55h) states that the stem’s name is “properly Taphʿēl,” an assessment apparently followed by Yoo (“Israelian Hebrew,” 134). 42 In this paper, we distinguish between the Semitic tG- and Gt-stems, in which the siglum “tG” designates the form with a prefixed *t and “Gt” the form with an infixed *-t-, only insofar as they occur in attested languages (for the convention, see W.R. Garr, Dialect Geography of Syria-Palestine, 1000–586 BCE. [Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1985], 120). As is generally recognized, all occurrences of the tG- and Gt- in the various Semitic languages can be traced back to a single Proto-Semitic tG-stem; see, e.g., W. Diem, “Die Entwicklung des Derivationsmorphems der t-Stämme im Semitischen,” ZDMG 132 (1982), 29–84; W.R. Garr, “The Niphal Derivational Prefix,” Orientalia 62 (1993), 142–62; D. Testen, “Arabic Evidence for the Formation of the Verbal Noun of the Semitic GtStem,” JSS 44 (1999), 1–16; cf. Joüon, 1:74 §17b, who considered the metathesized forms of Biblical Hebrew (e.g., hištammēr) “a conditioned residue of an earlier tinfixed conjugation.” For the presence (and putative originality) of an infixed-t stem, see also M.L. Boyle, “Infix-T Forms in Biblical Hebrew” (Ph.D. Diss., Boston University, 1969), esp. 95–97; and J. Tropper, “Die T-Verbalstämme des

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

243

under examination, independent of any conditioning environment, would probably have been the (unattested) form **hitrāgaltî. This reanalysis of the verbal form tirgaltî disposes with any need to reconstruct a relic Hebrew tipʿel stem; therefore, that siglum will be abandoned in favor of the more appropriate “tG” in the remainder of this study. By extension, a few of the other verbal forms discussed above (specifically, ‫יכם‬ ֶ ‫פוֹצוֹת‬ ִ ‫תּ‬, ְ ‫תּ ַת ֲח ֶרה‬, ְ and ‫ =[ ְמ ַת ֲח ֶרה‬tĕpôṣôtîkem, tĕtaḥăreh, and mĕtaḥăreh]) are likely to be similar remnants of an original tG-stem in Hebrew.

II. MORPHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS II.A. THE DISTRIBUTION OF THE TG- AND GT-STEMS IN OTHER SEMITIC LANGUAGES There can be no question that the affixed-*t (tG/Gt) complement of the simple qatala-form G-stem is traceable to Proto-Semitic, as it can be found in both East and West Semitic language families. Instead, the major inquiries underlying study of the affixed-*t stems center on the original form of the verb in each stem (tG/Gt, tD/Dt, etc.). Observation shows that the purely formal division between tG- and Gt- stems does not follow linguistic familial lines: consider, for example, the tG-stem forms from Hebrew (presented below, section II.c), Deir ʿAllā (Pref.: ytqtl[?]; Suff.: ʾtqtl[?]), 43 and Ethiopic (Pref.: yətqat[t]al; Suff.: taqat[a]la; Imptv.: taqatal; Inf. taqatəlo[t]) 44; over against the Gt-stem verbal forms found in, among others, Akkadian (Inf.: pitrusum; Dur.: iptarras; Perf.: iptatras; Pret.: iptaras; Imptv.: pitras; Part.: muptarsum; Verb. Adj.: pitrus-), 45 Ugaritic (Pref.: yiqtatVl-; Suff.: 671F

672F

673F

Biblisch-Hebräischen,” in B. Burtea, J. Tropper, and H. Younansardaroud (eds.),

Studia Semitica et Semitohamitica. Festschrift für Rainer Voigt anlässlich seines 60. Geburtstages am 17. Januar 2004 (AOAT, 317; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2005), 417–

24, esp. 419 and 421. Although we do not reject the possibility of a Hebrew Gtstem outright, we consider uncompelling the explanation of infixed-t as primordial to Proto-Semitic when viewed against the background of more recent literature. 43 See appendix A.1, below. 44 A. Dillmann, Ethiopic Grammar (2nd ed.; ed. C. Bezold; trans. J.A. Crichton; London: Williams & Norgate, 1907; repr., Ancient Language Resources; Eugene, Or.: Wipf & Stock, 2005), 151–53 §80 [stem III, 1]; T.O. Lambdin, Introduction to Classical Ethiopic (Geʿez) (HSS, 24; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1978), 205 [Gt]; J. Tropper, Altäthiopisch. Grammatik des Geʿez mit Übungstexten und Glossar (ELO, 2; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2002), 103–4, esp. §44.442 [stem T1]; for a slightly fuller discussion of weak forms, see Streck, Die akkadischen Verbalstämme, 104–5. 45 A.H. Sayce, An Assyrian Grammar for Comparative Purposes (London:

244

JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK

ʾiqtatVl-; Imptv.: (ʾi)qtatVl-), 46 Byblian Phoenician (Pref.: yqttl) 47, Moabite,48 and Arabic (Pref.: yaqtatilu; Suff.: (ʾi)qtatala; Imptv.: (ʾi)qtatil; Inf.: (ʾi)qtitālun; Trübner, 1872), 74–76; F. Delitzsch, Assyrische Grammatik mit Übungsstücken und kurzer Literatur-Übersicht, (2nd ed; Berlin: von Reuther & Reichard, 1906), 236 §112 [I, 2]; A. Ungnad, Babylonisch-Assyrisch Grammatik mit Übungsbuch (in Transskription) (Munich: Beck, 1906), 38–39 §38; B. Meißner, Kurtzgefaßte Assyrische Grammatik (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1907), 43–44 §59 [I, 2]; I.J. Gelb, Old Akkadian Writing and Grammar (Materials for the Assyrian Dictionary, 2; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1952), 222; W. von Soden, Grundriss der akkadischen Grammatik (=GAG) (3rd ed.; AnOr, 33; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1995), 120–21 §92; K. Hecker, Grammatik der Kültepe-Texte (AnOr, 44; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1968), 146 §88a–b; J. Huehnergard, A Grammar of Akkadian (HSS, 45; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997), 390–93; S. Seminara, L’accadico di Emar (Materiali per il vocabolario Sumerico, 6; Rome: La Sapienza, 1998), 410. However, Neo-Assyrian lost its stems infixed with a single *-t-; see, e.g., von Soden, GAG, 122 §93e; J. Hämeen-Antilla, A Sketch of Neo-Assyrian Grammar

(SAA, 13; Helsinki: Neo-Assyrian Text Corpus Project of the University of Helsinki, 2000), 88. 46 See Appendix A.2, below. 47 Only the prefix-conjugation of the Gt-stem is attested in Byblian Phoenician; Z.S. Harris, A Grammar of the Phoenician Language (AOS, 8; New Haven: American Oriental Society, 1936), 43 §13.7; J. Friedrich and W. Röllig, PhönizischPunische Grammatik (3rd ed.; AnOr, 55; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1999), 94 §150; C.R. Krahmalkov, A Phoenician-Punic Grammar (HdO, 54; Leiden: Brill, 2001), 157). In the Ahirom inscription (KAI 1), this form is used twice: tḥtsp “may it be removed” and thtpk “may it be overturned” (see also Friedrich and Röllig, Grammatik, 94 §150). Commentators generally vocalize the strong verb as yiptaʿal, but the absence of vocalization in the texts renders this reconstruction tentative, and is most likely to be traced back to comparison with Ugaritic (see Appendix A.2, below). The Gt-stem is to be distinguished from the tD-stem in Punic, in which no metathesis has occurred; cf. the hitpaʿel in Harris, Grammar, 42 §13.6; Friedrich and Röllig, Grammatik, 94 §149; Krahmalkov, Grammar, 156). Z.S. Harris adduces a tstem reflexive in Phoenician, comparing the extant forms of those of Ugaritic and Amarna Canaanite, as well as Canaanite place names preserved in Hebrew (see below, §3), but earlier had called the Gt-stem a “middle” (Development of the Canaanite Dialects: An Investigation in Linguistic History [AOS, 16; New Haven: American Oriental Society, 1939], 62; cf. idem, Grammar, 43). Compare also Krahmalkov’s translations and description of the stem as expressing “the intransitive of a transitive verb” (Grammar, 157). In opposition, it is possible to translate the Phoenician Gt-stem passively as well; e.g., Garr, Dialect Geography, 119. 48 Although the Gt-stem occurs in Moabite in only one verbal root (√LḤM), it is found in three different forms. The prefix-conjugation is attested twice as wʾltḥm

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

245

Part.: muqtatilun) 49; and the coincidence of the tG- and Gt- stems in Aramaic (albeit in different dialects).50 Despite the variation of the Semitic languages exhibiting a tG-stem and a Gt-stem, it is possible to reconstruct a plausible development whereby this variation occurred. The earliest situation in Semitic seems to have been the form prefixed with a *t- (i.e., the tG-stem). 51 As is clear from the distribution of languages exhibiting the secondary Gt-stem, the metathesis of the derivational prefix *t- with the first radical [R1] cannot be a genetic development, but should rather be understood as the effect of convergent development among the many languages exhibiting that stem.52 S.J. Lieberman has plausibly linked this metathesis to analogical development occasioned by the relative frequency of the Št-stems in Semitic (which appears even in those languages featuring a causative C-stem exhibiting the lenition of the original *š > h or ʾ 53). Accordingly, “under the “and I fought” (KAI 181 [=Mesha Inscr.]:11, 15), once in the imperative hltḥm “fight!” (line 32) and once as an affixed infinitive construct bhltḥmh “when he fought” (line 19). For a relatively brief discussion, see K.P. Jackson, “The Language of the Mesha Inscription,” in Andrew Dearman (ed.), Studies in the Mesha Inscription and Moab (Archaeology and Biblical Studies, 2; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), 111, 117, 121. Although F.M. Cross argued for the existence of the Gt-stem in the closely related dialect of Ammonite (“Epigraphic Notes on the Ammān Citadel Inscription,” BASOR 193 [1969], 13–19 [19 n. 16]), that language shows no sure signs of possessing such a stem (P.-E. Dion, “Notes d’épigraphie ammonite,” RB 82 [1975], 24–33 [30]; K.P. Jackson, The Ammonite Language of the Iron Age [HSM, 27; Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1983]; Garr, Dialect Geography, 119). 49 In the system applied by grammarians of Classical Arabic, the infixed-t stem is called the VIII form; see, e.g., charts in W. Fischer, A Grammar of Classical Arabic (3rd ed.; trans. Jonathan Rodgers; New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002), 240; and P.R. Bennett, Comparative Semitic Linguistics. A Manual (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1998), 104. 50 See Appendix A.3, below. 51 E.g., S.J. Lieberman, “The Afro-Asiatic Background of the Semitic N-Stem: Towards the Origins of the Stem-Afformatives of the Semitic and Afro-Asiatic Verb,” BiOr 43 (1986), 577–628 (610–19); Garr, “Niphal,” 147–53; Testen, “Arabic Evidence,” 10–12. 52 Contra Diem, “Entwicklung,” 40–47 §§11–16. 53 Lieberman cites the Arabic IV form (ʾafʿala) and the X form (istafʿala), the Ethiopic II, 1 [= Lambdin’s CG] stem (ʾaqtala) and IV, 1 [= Lambdin’s CGt] stem (ʾastaq[a]tala), the unproductive—but common—Hebrew relic hištapʿel stem ‫ ִה ְשׁ ַתּ ֲחוָ ה‬from the root √ḤWY, and the corresponding Aramaic relic found in the verbal form ‫( יִ ְשׁ ַתּכְ ְללוּן‬Ezra 4:13, 16) from √KLL (“Afro-Asiatic Background,” 615, 616 n. 217).

246

JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK

analogical influence of the st stems the sequence /ts/ was changed to /st/, whenever the two were contiguous.”54 In some languages, argues Lieberman, this metathesis was extended to some or all *t-preformative stems, and not only to those roots beginning with a sibilant. 55 Because Lieberman’s proposal relies on the particular ordering of the derivational *št prefix, we should not expect any further metathesis between the *t and R1 in the Št-stem itself (i.e., yielding **š=q=t=atal56 or the like), nor should we expect any such metathesis in the N-stem, where the derivational prefix was of a different articulation. 57 Moreover, Lieberman recognizes that the metathesis of the derivational *t prefix with R1 was inconsistently applied in many languages exhibiting productive tG/Gt- and tD/Dt-stems. On one hand, this rationale explains the situation of Akkadian, for example, which contrasts the infixed Gt-stem (pitrusum) and Dt-stem (putarrusum) over against the prefixed N-stem (naprusum) and Štstem (šutaprusum). According to Lieberman, in Akkadian, “the t-affix was Lieberman, “Afro-Asiatic Background,” 615. For a more precise account, see Lieberman, “Afro-Asiatic Background,” 615– 16. This thesis is generally in line with a number of preceding theories, including those of, e.g., C. Brockelmann, Grundriss der vergleichenden Grammatik der semitischen Sprachen (=GVG) (Berlin: Reuter & Richard, 1908), 1:528–30 §257.H; G. Bergsträsser, Einführung in die semitischen Sprachen: Sprachproben und grammatische Skizzen (Munich: Hueber, 1928), 13; S. Moscati, Introduction to the 54 55

Comparative Grammar of the Semitic Languages. Phonology and Morphology

(PLO, N.S. 6; 2nd printing; Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1964), 127–29. Further sources holding this position may be found in Boyle, “Infix-T Forms,” 44–50. For theoretical linguistic models in line with this view, see J.J. McCarthy, “A Prosodic Theory of Nonconcatenative Morphology,” Linguistic Inquiry 12 (1981), 373–418 (esp. 388–90: the “eighth binyan flop rule”); and J.C.E. Watson, The Phonology and Morphology of Arabic (Phonology of the World’s Languages; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 140. 56 We follow here Garr’s convention of indicating a morphemic boundary with the siglum “=”. In its usage, Garr’s notation differs only slightly from the conventions established by Noam Chomsky and Morris Halle (The Sound Pattern of English [Studies in Language; New York: Harper & Row, 1968], 364–71), whereby “+” indicates formative boundaries allowing the operation of phonological rules across the morphemic boundary and “=” disallows many of the same rules. 57 The ubiquitous affixation of the *n derivational prefix in the N-stem of Semitic languages moreover confirms that the *t was similarly originally prefixed (e.g., Lieberman, “Afro-Asiatic Background,” 610–19; cf. J. Grand’henry, “Le verbe réfléchi-passif à préfixé de la forme simple dans les dialectes arabes,” Mus 88 [1975], 441–47).

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

247

put after the radical of the verb without other augmentation, and that ‘infixing’ was presumably subsequently generalized to other stems.” 58 On the other hand, Lieberman’s proposal is also able to account for Arabic’s metathesis of the derivational *t with the first radical in the VIII (Gt) form (iftaʿala) but not in the V (tD) or VI (tL) forms (tafaʿʿala and tafāʿala, respectively): Arabic, he argues, “took the infixing of /t/ to be a distinguishing mark of the t-form of a verb without other augmentation, and kept the /t/ in front of the first radical for the otherwise augmented stems.” 59 Thus, neither the X (Št) form (istafʿala) nor the VII (N) form (infaʿala) undergoes metathesis. Similarly, despite the fact that Ugaritic had a tD-stem (with prefixed *t), the derivational *t of the corresponding G-stem form was infixed (Gt). 60 In essence, Lieberman argues that this metathesis must be traced to a large number of convergent analogical developments within Proto-Semitic’s daughter languages, and specifically to those that still retain a productive Štstem. His proposal goes a long way towards understanding the causes for the distribution of tG and Gt stems in the Semitic languages. 61 Moreover, for the purposes of the present argument, it may be considered as ancillary to the developments proposed below. 62 The metathesis of R1 and derivational *t in the Gt- and Dt-stems described here is best considered as a rule internal to the various languages exhibiting such stems with an infixed derivational *t:63 Lieberman, “Afro-Asiatic Background,” 615. Ibid. 60 See E. Verreet, “Beobachtungen zum ugaritischen Verbalsystem,” UF 16 (1984), 307–21; J. Huehnergard, “A Dt Stem in Ugaritic?” UF 17 (1985), 402. 61 See also Diem, “Entwicklung,” 40–47 §§11–16. 62 Garr has shown decisively that the *hi- prefix of the nipʿal infinitive and imperative (and consequently of the hitpaʿel suff.-conj., pref.-conj., and imperative forms) does not share the same morphological origin of the hipʿil prefix, which is to be derived from an original *š-. Instead, the former is an analogical extension of the latter (see below, section II.b). 63 This discussion is not meant to describe the phonologically conditioned metathesis occurring in Hebrew and Aramaic roots beginning with sibilants, although a relation between the two environments of metathesis cannot be ruled out at this point (see Lieberman, “Afro-Asiatic Background,” 616). For Aramaic, see the verb *hitšakaḥ > hištăkaḥ or hištĕkaḥ in Dan 2:35; 6:24; and Ezra 6:2; cf. the related forms in Dan 5:11, 12, 14, 27; and 6:5, 23. For Hebrew, see examples in GKC, 70 §19n, 149 §54b; Bauer and Leander, Historische Grammatik, 217 §23a; Joüon, 1:158 §53e). Akkadian reverses (or, more precisely, did not undergo) the metathetical rule in unprefixed forms from roots containing a sibilant or voiced dental R1 (e.g., the infinitive tiṣbutum [rather than **ṣitbutum]). In many respects, this 58 59

248

JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK (1) *tR1 > R1t {in certain stem-conditioned environments}

II.B. THE MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG-STEM’S DERIVATIONAL PREFIX/INFIX Insofar as it is possible to reconstruct the Proto-Semitic antecedents of the derived stems, the development of the tG/Gt-stem in the Northwest Semitic languages may be reconstructed with some degree of confidence. Although Diem reconstructs an original *ta morpheme that diverged into the allomorphic set {/ta/, /t/}, depending on its morphophonemic environment, 64 this reconstruction is overly complicated and predicated on the specious assertion of the primacy of the system found in Ethiopic. Instead, it is much more likely that the derivational prefix, consisting only of the single phonemic segment *t, was appended directly to the verbal base. 65 Dealing primarily with the Hebrew nipʿal, Garr plausibly and convincingly reconstructs a pre-Proto-Semitic derivational N-stem prefix *n, which, when affixed directly to a verbal base *-qtal66 (found, for example, in the Akkadian verbal noun, imperative, and infinitive, as well as the Hebrew suffix-conjugation, participle, and infinitive absolute) creates a word-initial triconsonantal cluster (**n=qtal). Although such clusters were permissible in pre-Proto-Semitic (and in contexts in PS where one of the consonants was an inflectional ending, such as *bnt “daughter” 67), they were not generally permissible in Proto-Semitic. In East and Northwest Semitic, this form inserted an anaptyctic vowel *a “between the monoconsonantal derivational prefix and consonant cluster-initial base,” 68 yielding *na=qtal:

failure of metathesis to operate consistently may be attributed to the fact that Gtstem forms from such roots assimilate the derivational *t when they contain prefixes (e.g., durative iṣṣabbat, perfect iṣṣatbat, etc.; Huehnergard, Grammar of Akkadian, 390–91 §33.1; see also, e.g., Brockelmann, GVG, 1:157 §56a, 171 §60bγ; von Soden, GAG, 35 §29e. 64 Diem, “Entwicklung,” 35–36 §§7–8; see similarly Bergsträsser, Einführung, 12–13; and Blau, Phonology and Morphology, 229 §4.3.5.3.2n, and 233 §4.3.5.6.3. Blau relies on the principle of archaic heterogeneity to sustain this argument. 65 Garr, “Niphal,” 147–53; Testen, “Arabic Evidence,” 10–12. 66 Alongside the development of the derivational prefix/infix, it is possible and necessary to trace the verbal base onto which the derivational prefix/affix was appended. 67 Garr, “Niphal,” 147–48 n. 27. 68 Ibid., 148.

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

249

(2) *ø > a / #n__=CC {where n is the derivational morpheme on the verbal base *-qtal}69

This innovation is paralleled in the causative Š-stem (cf. Heb. hipʿil) suffixconjugation (*š=qtal > *ša=qtal [ > *ha=qtil in many daughter languages] 70). Thus, the nipʿal suffix-conjugation in Hebrew has acquired the form niqtal < *niqtal < PNWS *naqtal < PS *n=qtal. A different situation gave rise to the N-stem prefix and infinitive forms. In prefixed forms, the verbal base naturally becomes medial, postposited as it is after the inflectional pronominal prefixes. Cross-Semitic comparison demonstrates that the verbal base of these forms was not *-qtal, as was that of the suffix-conjugation, 71 but rather *-qatil. 72 The affixation of the pronominal prefix with its vowel therefore not only avoids a triconsonantal cluster (**n=qtal), but it also alleviates any problematic wordinitial biconsonantal clusters (*yi=n=qatal). In the infinitive forms, which lack inflectional pronoun prefixes, the biconsonantal cluster remained unalleviated in word-initial position (*n=qatil) in Proto-Semitic. Although such clusters were tolerated in Proto-Semitic, most of the daughter languages did not permit word-initial biconsonantal clusters and therefore developed a syllable to alleviate this cluster. The syllable was formed from two phonological segments, namely, an initial prothetic glottal stop (usually realized as ʾālep) and an accompanying prefix vowel. For example, this prefix syllable is preserved in both Arabic and Ethiopic, albeit in slightly different forms, and has evolved into the hi- prefix in Hebrew and Aramaic, as will be demonstrated below. Despite its overall similarities with the other Central Semitic languages, Arabic presents a special case of morphosyntactically-constrained phonological developments. Various dialect-groups of Arabic have handled word-initial epenthesis differently. Non-classical Arabic (NCArab. 73) Ibid. Ibid., 148–49. 71 However, cf. the Arabic VII form infaʿala. 72 The verbal base in the Heb. nipʿal prefix-conjugation and infinitive can be traced to an original form *-qatil (i.e., Heb. yiqqātēl < *yi=n=qatil; see also Akk. preterite tapparis < *ta=n=qatil; Arab. prefix-conjugation tanqatil < *ta=n=qatil; and Ethiopic tānqalqəl < *ta=n=qalqil); see Garr, “Niphal,” 150. If David Yellin’s theory is correct (“The Hippaʿel-Nifʿal Conjugation in Hebrew and Aramaic, and the assimilation of ‫ ת‬in the Hitpaʿel Conjugation,” JPOS 4 [1924], 85–106), then Hebrew and Aramaic may each display a form of the N-stem suffix-conjugation which is to be derived from an original PS *n=qatil base (but see below, n. 86). 73 We have taken the terminology “non-classical Arabic” from Fischer, 69 70

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represented the presence of the developed glottal stop by using an alif in its orthographic system (e.g., {ʾSM} /ʾism/ “name”). Classical Arabic (CArab.), however, does not pronounce the glottal stop when it adds the prothetic vowel, so the orthography inherited from NCArab. is pointed accordingly to reflect the presence of a word-initial vowel with no glottal stop (i.e., no hamza). 74 This omission of the glottal stop sign on words exhibiting the non-classical orthography with alif is indicative of CArab.’s lenition or quiescence of the glottal stop. For example, we may point to the NCArab. consonantal structure {ʾSM} (indicating a ubiquitous pronunciation /ʾismu/ [lacking nunation as well]), which is adjusted in CArab. to reflect a pronunciation /smun/, except in certain morphosyntactic environments, wherein the vowel is reinserted (or more accurately, preserved) 75. The morphosyntactic environments conditioning the insertion (or rather, preservation) of this vowel may be found when “*CC-initial words…are in either sentence-initial position or pause; otherwise the vowel does not appear.” 76 In many cases, of course, the consonant cluster was already alleviated naturally, since it followed a word ending in a vowel (e.g., qāla stamiʿ “He said, ‘Listen!”). These are the cases in which the vowel does not appear. In cases where the word-initial consonant-cluster is sentence-initial or follows pause, however, a vowel is inserted. This epenthetic vowel is written on the prothetic alif of the *CC-initial word (thus, orthographic {ʾSM} is augmented to reflect the pronunciation ʾismun “name”; see also ʾistamiʿ “Listen!” 77). This epenthetic insertion was simultaneously represented in the orthography through the addition of the glottal stop marker hamza. Grammar, 12 §19.

74 A similar orthographic phenomenon is encountered in Biblical Hebrew’s graphic preservation of quiescent ʾālep, e.g., in words such as ‫רֹאשׁ‬, preserving the pronunciation /rōš/. This pronunciation was itself the product of normal development from an earlier *raʾš (through the Canaanite shift), which provided the orthography before operation of the shift. 75 Fischer, Grammar, 12 §19; see earlier M. Lambert, “L’élif wesla,” JA 9/5 (1895), 224–34 (225–26). 76 Garr, “Niphal,” 147. See also F. Philippi, “Das Alifu’l Waṣli,” ZDMG 49 (1895), 187–92 (contra Barth, “Grammatik,” 7–10; idem, “Zur Frage der Nominalbildung,” ZDMG 44 [1890], 679–98 [695]); Lambert, “L’élif wesla,” 227– 28; J. Hämeen-Antilla, “The Prothetic Vowel (waṣla) in Classical Arabic,” in Studia Orientalia Memoriae Jussi Aro Dedicata (StOr, 55; Helsinki: Societas Orientalis Fennica, 1984), 305–13. 77 All Arabic examples of verbal forms except qālati stamiʿ (below, attested by Safwat Marzouk) were drawn from P.F. Abboud and E.N. McCarus, Elementary

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Further conditioning environments eliciting the insertion of a vowel include cases in which a word ending in a consonant precedes the *CCinitial word. Here, sandhi operates in order to alleviate the tri-consonantal cluster. 78 In these cases, the inserted vowel is appended graphically to the preceding word, and the elision (or, synchronically, non-pronunciation) of the prothetic alif inherited from NCArab. is marked orthographically through the addition of the diacritic mark waṣla. Thus, the purely graphic prothetic alif is named alif waṣli or alif al-waṣl. For example, on the consonantal structure {MN ʾBNH}, rendering non-classical Arabic /min ʾibnihi/ “from his son,” classical Arabic inserts vowels on the end of the preposition to render the pronunciation mini bnihi 79; see also {QLT ʾSTMʿ}, pronounced qālati stamiʿ < *qālat stamiʿ “She said, ‘Listen!’” 80 Stated plainly then, the insertion in CArab. of the waṣla vowel on words originally beginning with two consonants is alleviated through either Modern Standard Arabic, Part 1 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983), 58.

R. Lass describes sandhi as “syntactically conditioned allomorphy, with rules operating on the termini of the peripheral morphemes of words of any internal structure” (Phonology: An Introduction to Basic Concepts [Cambridge Textbooks in Linguistics; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984], 70), that is, variation in morphology conditioned by the syntactic environment and manifested at word boundaries; cf. the distinction made by H.H. Hock between external sandhi (occurring at word boundaries) and internal sandhi (occurring word-internally with the addition or deletion of morphemes; Principles of Historical Linguistics [2nd ed.; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1991], 246). Insofar as the Semitic languages rely heavily on inseparable prepositions and affixed personal morphemes to augment their nominal and verbal systems, it is difficult to make a hard distinction between Hock’s “internal” and “external” sandhi. For studies of sandhi in Northwest Semitic languages, see D.T. Tsumura, “Vowel sandhi in Ugaritic,” in Near Eastern Studies: 78

Dedicated to H. I. H. Prince Takahito Mikasa on the Occasion of His SeventyFifth Birthday (Bulletin of the Middle Eastern Culture Center in Japan, 5;

Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1991), 427–35; idem, “Vowel sandhi in Biblical Hebrew,” ZAW 109 (1997), 575–88, and sources cited there. For sandhi more generally, see W.S. Allen, Sandhi. The Theoretical, Phonetic, and Historical Bases of Word-Junction in Sanscrit (Janua Linguarum, 17; The Hague: Mouton, 1962); and H. Anderson (ed.), Sandhi Phenomena in the Languages of Europe (Trends in Linguistics Studies and Monographs, 33; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1986). 79 Fischer, Grammar, 12 §20; although contrast the alternate explanation of this form in Hämeen-Antilla, “Prothetic Vowel,” 5–6. 80 For further discussion, see Philippi, “Alifu’l Waṣli,” 188–92; Lambert, “L’élif wesla,” 225–28; Hämeen-Antilla, “Prothetic Vowel,” 305–13; but cf. Barth, “Grammatik,” 7–10; idem, “Zur Frage der Nominalbildung,” 695.

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(a) word-initial epenthesis when in sentence-initial position; (b) epenthetic insertion of a vowel on the previous word when following a word ending in a consonant; or (c) through simple juxtaposition when following a word ending naturally in a vowel. But it is evident that CArab. demonstrates only one of many possible systems whereby word-initial consonant clusters could be alleviated. The graphic insertion of prothetic alif in NCArab. (and preserved graphically in the traditional spellings of CArab.) demonstrates that this dialect (or dialect-bundle) partook in the same epenthetic insertion of *ʾV- before a word-initial consonant cluster. Particularly important for the present study is the fact that this insertion occurred before consonant clusters comprised of -tR1-/-R1t-, as occurred in the other Central Semitic languages. If this epenthetic insertion may be generalized to Proto-Arabic, then CArab. has lost this insertion in all environments except sentenceinitial position and pause. Thus, the rule for NCArab. (=Proto-Arabic?), applicable to the Northwest Semitic languages as well, may be schematized as: (3) *ø > ʾi / #__C=C(=)V81 But it is also possible that this rule should be limited in its earliest application to situations in which the word occurred in sentence-initial or post-pausal position. In this case, CArab. would preserve the original system, in which the operation of sandhi could force the insertion of a vowel between a consonant-final word and a *CC-initial word, but in which the operation of sandhi in the form of rule (3) could also be blocked if a vowel preceded the word-initial *CC-cluster. Similarly to CArab., the epenthetic syllable resulting from rule (3) is preserved in Ugaritic (e.g., ʾištmʿ [/ʾištamaʿ/ < *štamaʿ] “listen!” [m.sg.] [KTU 1.16 VI 42]). 82 However, when connected by sandhi to a preceding conjunction, the imperative in Ugaritic is realized without the epenthetic prefix as the following imperative form makes clear: ištmʿ wtqġ /ʾištamaʿ Garr, “Niphal,” 153; rule (5). This development covers both the tG, in which the conditioning environment #tR1V (i.e., #__t=R1V) obtains, and the Gt, in which the infixed-t slightly alters the system of morphemic boundaries, yielding the environment #R1tV (i.e., #__R1=t[=]V). Strictly speaking, the rule operates in Arabic without the first morphemic boundary as well (i.e., #__CCV); but cf. the following note. 82 The same epenthetic insertion is seen already in the linguistic (Canaanite?) antecedents of the biblical GN’s ʾeštāʾōl, ʾeštĕmōaʿ, and so on (all apparently derived from an earlier *ʾitqatVl). 81

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wa[t]taqaġ/ “give heed and attune your ear”; KTU 1.16.VI.29–30, 42.83 As Garr notes, in Ugaritic specifically “[t]he prothetic syllable…is sensitive to the derivational boundary separating the initial two consonants,” in that its insertion occurs only when this boundary is present. 84 Thus, the evidence from Ugaritic indicates that the phenomenon obtained in Northwest Semitic as well, at least in limited environments or under sporadically operating constraints; it is only the conditioning environment that comprises the primary distinction between Arabic and Northwest Semitic. In fact, CArab. seems to be the outlier among the Central Semitic languages in its non-operation of sandhi or the loss of epenthetic insertion preceding the consonant cluster occasioned by the addition of derivational *t. The Ethiopic N-stem suffix-conjugation (ʾanqalqala < *n=qalqala) and imperative (ʾanqalqəl < *n=qalqil) exhibited nearly identical insertions to those made in Central Semitic, with the difference that the inserted vowel is an *a-vowel instead of an *i-vowel: (4) *ø > ʾa / #__C=C(=)V However, South Semitic appears to have alleviated the initial consonant cluster of the tG-stem differently from Central Semitic. Here, too, we find the insertion of an epenthetic vowel *a in Ethiopic, but that insertion follows—rather than precedes—the derivational prefix *t-. See, for

See D. Sivan, A Grammar of the Ugaritic Language (HdO, 28; Leiden: Brill, 2001), 131; cf. M. Krebernik, “Gt- und tD-Stämme im Ugaritischen,” in W. Gross, H. Irsigler, and T. Seidl (eds.), Texte, Methode und Grammatik: Wolfgang Richter zum 65. Geburtstag (St. Ottilien: EOS Verlag, 1991), 227–70 (231 §2.1.4); J. Tropper, Ugaritische Grammatik (=UG) (AOAT, 273; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2000), 527–28 §74.233). The verbal noun exhibits a variety of forms (e.g., J. Huehnergard, Ugaritic Vocabulary in Syllabic Transcription [=UVST] [HSS, 32; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987], 321; Krebernik, “Gt- und tD-Stämme,” 231–32 §2.1.5; Tropper, UG, 530–31 §74.236). For additional cases of sandhi in Ugaritic, see Tsumura, “Vowel sandhi in Ugaritic”; idem, “Vowel sandhi in Biblical Hebrew,” esp. 579–81; and Sivan, Grammar, 32, 138. 84 Garr, “Niphal,” 153. We might generalize this principle to Northwest Semitic as a whole, citing the alleviation of the biconsonantal, mono-morphemic ProtoSemitic cluster *bn “son” in Hebrew and Aramaic through the insertion of a medial anaptyctic vowel (PS *bn > Heb. ben, Aram. bar; D. Testen, “The Significance of Aramaic r < *n,” JNES 44 [1985], 143–46). In contrast, Arabic usually alleviates an initial consonant cluster through sandhi or with the insertion of alif al-waṣl, regardless of whether the cluster spans a morphemic boundary (PS *bn > Arab. [ʾi]bn). 83

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example, the Ethiopic suffix-conjugation (taqat[a]la), imperative (taqatal), and infinitive (taqatəlo[t]), all of which can be described with rule (5): (5) *ø > a / #t__=C In this regard, the development of the tG-stem in Ethiopic as described by rule (5) is somewhat convergent with the rule in Akkadian and Northwest Semitic whereby the word-initial consonant cluster in the N-stem infinitive, etc., was similarly alleviated by the insertion of *a (see rule [2] above). South Semitic thus demonstrates a slightly different development from that of Central Semitic’s tG-stem and rules (4) and (5) may therefore be excluded from the remainder of the discussion. In contrast, the Hebrew hitpaʿel suffix-conjugation (hitqattēl < *t=qattil 85) and the unprefixed Arabic VIII form suffix-conjugation (iqtatala < *q=t=atal), not to mention imperative and infinitive forms as well, all exhibit the same prefixation of the initial epenthetic vowel described above as rule (3). 86 As noted above, this insertion is unnecessary in prefixed forms J. Huehnergard adduces the original vocalization of the D-stem verbal base as *-qattil, although he suggests the tD-stem base to have been *-qattal, “as elsewhere in Semitic” (“Historical Phonology and the Hebrew Piel,” in W. Bodine (ed.), Linguistics and Biblical Hebrew [Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1992], 209–29 [224, 228–29]; cf. Aram. hitpaʿal and Akk. uptarras). However, one wonders whether the proto-Canaanite tD-stem might not have acquired the *-qattil form already as a result of analogy with the still productive tG-stem: qatal (G): t=qatal (tG): qattil (D): t=qattil (tD). 86 Arabic behaves normally here, since it attaches the epenthetic vowel to the same verbal base in the suffix-conjugation (iqtatala < *q=t=atal) and prefixconjugation (yaqtatilu < *yi=q=t=atil=u). As Garr has noted (“Niphal,” 144–45), Hebrew displays two different bases for its formation of the nipʿal suffixconjugation (niqtal < *n=qtal) and prefix-conjugation, etc. (yiqqatēl < *yi=n=qatil). However, in 1924 D. Yellin put forth an argument that we should recognize an allomorph of the typical nipʿal suffix-conjugation which has been misanalyzed as a tG-stem wherein the derivational *n-prefix has assimilated to R1 (“Hippaʿel-Nifʿal,” 85–106). A similar argument had been advanced earlier by I. Eitan, “Light on the History of the Hebrew Verb,” JQR 12 (1921–1922), 25–32; see also W.F. Albright, “The Hebrew nippaʿʿel in the Light of Comparative Philology,” JQR 13 (1923), 503–5; cf. H. Distenfeld, “Was There a Form ‫ נִ ַפּ ֵﬠל‬in Early Hebrew?” JQR 13 (1923), 337–42. But a more reasonable derivation of, for example, the anomalous suffix-conjugation verb ‫אתי‬ ִ ‫( ִהנַּ ֵבּ‬Ezek 37:10) is from a hitpaʿel stem (e.g., Bauer and Leander, Historische Grammatik, 198 §15g; and recently J.S. Baden, “Hithpael and Niphal in Biblical Hebrew: Semantic and Morphological Overlap,” VT 60 [2010], 33–44). This explanation posits the development *hitnabbiʾtī > hinnabbē(ʾ)tî, in which 85

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255

such as the Hebrew hitpaʿel prefix-conjugation (yitqattēl < *yi=t=qattil), in which the inflectional pronominal prefix naturally alleviates the word-initial consonant cluster. However, Hebrew and some forms of Aramaic have clearly undergone an additional phonological development, namely the analogical development of *ʾ > h. Garr plausibly suggests that in those languages exhibiting the lenition *š > h in the causative stem, 87 “[t]he overt, consonantal marker of the derived, causative stem—h—is borrowed by the t-stems.” 88 Although not a sound-rule, per se, since its operation occurs in an ad hoc manner through analogical extension, this development may be schematized as: (6) *ʾi → hi / #__C=C(=)V89

the derivational *t assimilated unpredictably to R1 (thus, *t > n). These phonemes’ common feature as dental-alveolars may help to explain cases of unexpected assimilation; for further argumentation, see J.M. Hutton, “Total or Partial Assimilation of Derivational-*T (‫ )ת‬in the Biblical Hebrew Hitpaʿel?” JNSL 37.2 (2011), 27–48. It should not go unnoticed, as Rendsburg has pointed out to us (personal communication), that three nipʿal forms commencing in hinna- can be found in the immediately preceding verses (Ezek 37:7, 9 [2x]). Yellin’s theory would posit that the mispointed hinnabē(ʾ)tî (notice omission of gemination in R2) had developed instead from an original *hinnabiʾtī < PNWS *innabiʾtī < PS *n=nabiʾ=tī. In either case, the preservation of this and similar forms in Biblical Hebrew has two benefits for the present paper. First, it allows us to recognize that the verbal base of this allomorph could originally have been *-qatil (or *-qatal; cf. the Aramaic ippeʿal, as adduced by Yellin, “Hippaʿel-Nifʿal,” 97–98; see also below, section III). Second, it provides the identical pattern for the Hebrew N-stem verbs (or perhaps more appropriately nG-stem?) to that of the tG-stem verbs presented below. 87 For this development, see, e.g., W. Leslau, “Le rapport entre š et h en semitique,” Annuaire de l’Institut de Philologie et d’Histoire Orientales et Slaves 7 (New York: Éditions de l’Institut, 1944), 265–72; M.M. Bravmann, “The Semitic Causative-Prefix š/sa,” Mus 82 (1969), 517–22; R.M. Voigt, “Der Lautwandel s1 > h in wurzellosen Morphemen des Alt- und Neusüdarabischen,” in G. Goldenberg and S. Raz (eds.), Semitic and Cushitic Studies (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1994), 19–28; and idem, “Akkadisch šumma ‘wenn’ und die Konditionalpartikeln des Westsemitischen,” in M. Dietrich and O. Loretz (eds.), Vom Alten Orient zum

Alten Testament. Festschrift für Wolfram Freiherrn von Soden zum 85. Geburtstag am 19. Juni 1993 (AOAT, 240; Kevelaer: Butzon & Bercker; Neukirchen-Vluyn:

Neukirchener Verlag, 1995), 517–28. 88 Garr, “Niphal,” 154; see earlier, e.g., Moscati, Introduction, 128. 89 Garr, “Niphal,” 154, rule (6). We use here an arrow (→) to signify the analogical development rather than the sign of the sound change used by Garr (>). The development is, strictly speaking, not a sound change, because it does not

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By this analogical development, then, the Hebrew hipʿil has lent its initial segment to the hitpaʿel and, most likely, to any remnants of the archaic tGstem (see, e.g., the Hebrew verb hitpāqĕdû, discussed below in section II.c). It is the sporadic operation of this analogical shift that is to be credited with the variety of forms of the Aramaic tG-, tD-, and related stems. Biblical Aramaic exhibits both hit- and ʾit- forms, as demonstrated by the pairings: hitpeʿel ‫“ ְל ִה ְת ְק ָט ָלה‬to be killed” (Dan 2:9) vs. ʾitpeʿel: ‫“ ֶא ְת ֲﬠ ַקרוּ‬they were plucked up” (Dan 7:8) and hitpaʿal: ‫“ ִה ְתנַ ַדּבוּ‬they offered freely” (Ezra 7:15) vs.ʾitpaʿal: ‫“ ִא ְתיָ ַﬠטוּ‬they have consulted” (Dan 6:8) The hi-prefixed forms uninflected by pronominal prefixes are not infrequent in Biblical Aramaic, comprising twenty occurrences of these diagnostic forms: ‫“ ְל ִה ְת ְק ָט ָלה‬to be killed” (Dan 2:9); ‫“ ְבּ ִה ְת ְבּ ָה ָלה‬with hurrying” (Dan 2:25; 3:24; 6:20); ‫“ ִה ְתגְּ זֶ ֶרת‬it was cut out” (Dan 2:34, but cf. ‫ ִא ְתגְּ זֶ ֶרת‬in Dan 2:45); ‫)ה ְשׁ ְתּ ַכח( ִה ְשׁ ֲתּ ַכח‬ ִ or ‫“ ִה ְשׁ ְתּ ַכ ַחת‬it was found” (Dan 2:35; 5:11, 12, 14, 27; 6:5, 23, 24; Ezra 6:2); ‫“ ִה ְת ְמ ִלי‬he was full” (Dan 3:19); �‫“ ִה ְת ָח ַר‬it was singed” (Dan 3:27); ‫“ ִה ְת ְר ִחצוּ‬they trusted (i.e., were washed clean)” (Dan 3:28); ‫רוֹמ ְמ ָתּ‬ ַ ‫“ ִה ְת‬you were astonished” (Dan 5:23, but cf. ‫תּוֹמם‬ ַ ‫“ ֶא ְשׁ‬he was astonished” in 4:16); ‫“ ִה ְתנַ ִבּי‬he prophesied” (Ezra 5:1); and ‫“ ִה ְתנַ ַדּבוּ‬they offered freely” (Ezra 7:15) or ‫“ ִה ְתנַ ָדּבוּת‬what is offered freely” (Ezra 7:16). Diagnostic forms with the ʾi-prefix are limited to six occurrences: ‫“ ִא ְתגְּ זֶ ֶרת‬it was cut out” (Dan 2:35); ‫( ֶא ְשׁ ַתּנּוּ‬Q ‫)א ְשׁ ַתּנִּ י‬ ֶ “it was changed” (Dan 3:19); ‫תּוֹמם‬ ַ ‫“ ֶא ְשׁ‬he was astonished” (Dan 4:16); ‫ִא ְתיָ ַﬠטוּ‬ “they have consulted” (Dan 6:8); ‫( ֶא ְת ֲﬠ ַקרוּ‬Q ‫)א ְת ֲﬠ ַק ָרה‬ ֶ “they were plucked up” (Dan 7:8); and ‫“ ֶא ְת ְכּ ִריַּ ת‬it was grieved” (Dan 7:15). That this variation is to be assigned to diachronic development in a single branch of Aramaic is doubtful. Far more likely, we believe, is that it exhibits signs of Aramaic’s dialectal variation. 90 718F

occur in all cases of word-initial *ʾiC=C(=)V, only those cases where word-initial *ʾi has developed by the prothetic rule (3), above. Technically, Garr’s formulation of the rule as *ʾi > hi / #__C=C(=)V would include cases of the tG/Gt-stem prefix-conjugation in the 1.c.sg. as well; i.e., *ʾiltaḥam “I (will) fight with” (cf. KAI 181:11, 15) would have become **hiltaḥam. Shift (6) did operate in Moabite, as suggested by the infinitival form (b)hltḥm(h) in KAI 181:19, 32. 90 See already A. Hurvitz, “The Chronological Significance of ‘Aramaisms’ in Biblical Hebrew,” IEJ 18 (1968), 234–40; and, more recently, N. Pat-El, “Traces of Dialectal Variation in Late Biblical Hebrew,” VT 58 (2008), 650–55. Thus, because a Hebrew retention of the derivational prefix as ʾit- is unlikely, an explanation of

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257

No matter the eventual realization of the derivational morpheme’s initial consonant, the preceding argument has shown that the origin of both Hebrew derivational affixes */hit-/ (in suffix-forms) and */-t-/ (in prefixforms) of the derived t-stems, as well as the Aramaic prefix */ʾit-/, is most compellingly traced to a single original (and monoconsonantal) prefix *t-. 91 This evidence best explains the distribution and variant forms of the prefixed and infixed derivational *t throughout the Semitic languages, and may be traced as far back as an indefinite reflexive pronoun in AfroAsiatic.92

Aramaic influence may be given for the anomalous Hebrew suffix-conjugation forms ‫“ ֶאגְ ָא ְל ִתּי‬I have stained” (Isa 63:3) and ‫“ ֶה ֶאזְ נִ יחוּ‬they became foul” (Isa 19:6), infinitive absolute ‫“ ַא ְשׁ ֵכּים‬persistently” (Jer 25:3), and imperative �‫“ ַא ְב ֵר‬kneel down!” (Gen 41:43; see Böttcher, Lehrbuch, 2:281 §1015; but cf. the alternative explanations given by T.O. Lambdin, “Egyptian Loan Words in the Old Testament,” JAOS 73 [1953], 145–55 [146]; and J.M.A. Janssen, “Egyptological Remarks on the Story of Joseph in Genesis,” Jaarbericht van het VooraziatischEgyptisch Genootschap: Ex Oriente Lux 14 [1955–1956], 63–72 [68]; HALOT, 10, s.v. �‫)א ְב ֵר‬, ַ although ‫ ֶה ֶאזְ נִ יחוּ‬is supposed to have acquired the hê-prefix as a result of hypercorrection. 91 Garr, “Niphal,” 151–55. 92 Lieberman, “Afro-Asiatic Background,” 610–19; H.-P. Müller, “Die Bedeutungspotential der Afformativkonjugation,” ZAH 1 (1988), 159–90 (179); Garr, “Niphal,” 152–53. Incidentally, the developmental variation between the hiprefix of the Hebrew hipʿil (< PS *š) and the hi(t)- prefix of the Hebrew hitpaʿel and Aramaic hitpeʿel and hitpaʿal (< *ʾi[t]- lt and is therefore implausible). 96 G. Bergsträsser, Hebräische Grammatik (2 vols.; Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1929), 2:100 §18i; H. Yalon, “Hithpāʿelformen im Hebräischen,” ZAW 50 (1932), 217–20 (220); E.A. Speiser, “The Durative Hithpa‘el: A tan-Form,” JAOS 75 (1955), 118– 21; J. Blau, “Über die t-Form des hifʿil im Bibelhebräisch,” VT 7 (1957), 385–88; B.W.W. Dombrowski, “Some Remarks on the Hebrew Hithpa‘el and Inversative 93

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

259

the roots √RGL (the verb at hand), √PQD, 97 √ŠYN, 98 and possibly √ḤRH and √PWṢ. 99 Yet even operating with the recognition that Hebrew at one t- in the Semitic Languages,” JNES 21 (1962), 220–23; Boyle, “Infix-T Forms,” 98– 141 (although other assertions complicate Boyle’s inclusion here); S.B. Wheeler, “The Infixed -t- in Biblical Hebrew,” JANES 3 (1970–1971), 20–31, esp. 22; P.A. Siebesma, The Function of the Niph’al in Biblical Hebrew (Studia Semitica Neerlandica, 28; Assen: Van Gorcum, 1991), 167, 169; Blau, Phonology and Morphology, 232 §4.3.5.6.1; cf. U. Ornan, “Two Types of Hitpaʿel,” in M. GoshenGottstein, S. Morag, and S. Kogut (eds.), Studies on Hebrew and Other Semitic Languages (Jerusalem: Academon, 1990), 1–3 (Hebrew, with English summary on p. vii); and A.F. Bean, “A Phenomenological Study of the Hithpa‘el Verbal Stem in the Hebrew Old Testament” (Ph.D. Diss., Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, 1976), 17–19. Evidence of this collapse of the tG and tD in Hebrew may be preserved in the anomalous “northern” use of the hitpaʿel with a passive sense; see hištammēr “be observed” (Mic 6:16); tithallāl “she is to be praised” (Prov 31:30); and yištakkĕḥû “they are forgotten” (Eccl 8:10). We might also point here to the etpoʿel form ʾeštôlĕlû “they were despoiled” (Ps 76:6). Gary Rendsburg connects the odd passive sense of the hitpaʿel to the “two different T-stem formations” of Aramaic, but does not explicitly argue for any Masoretic reanalysis (“A Comprehensive Guide to Israelian Hebrew: Grammar and Lexicon,” Orient 38 [2003], 5–35 [18– 19]); Rendsburg’s position was challenged by D. Talshir (“The Habitat and History of Hebrew during the Second Temple Period,” in I. Young [ed.], Biblical Hebrew. Studies in Chronology and Typology [JSOTSup 369; London: T & T Clark, 2003], 251–75 [275]), but cf. Clinton Moyer, who has subsequently defended Rendsburg’s position (“Literary and Linguistic Studies in Sefer Bilʿam [Numbers 22–24],” [Ph.D. Diss., Cornell University, 2009], 103–5). One could also cite the contradiction posed to Rendsburg’s position by Baden, who, similarly to Talshir, challenges the passive nature of the verb in Prov 31:30 (“Hithpael and Niphal,” 34–35). Also worthy of further consideration are the supposed hitpaʿel verbal forms with theme vowel a adduced by A.F. Rainey (“Observations on Ugaritic Grammar,” UF 3 [1971], 151–72 [167]): ʾetʾappaq “I forced myself” (1 Sam 13:2; see also Gen 43:31; Isa 42:14; 63:15; 64:11; Esth 5:10); titḥakkan “you shall deal wisely” (Eccl 7:16; also Exod 1:10); and yitgāʾal “he [would not] defile himself” (Dan 1:8). Although Rainey seems to take these as passive tD-stem forms, they may simply be reanalyzed tG forms. A similar reanalysis to the one assumed here occurred with the Gp (qalpassive) stem; see R.J. Williams, “The Passive Qal Theme in Hebrew,” in J.W. Wevers and D.B. Redford (eds.), Essays on the Ancient Semitic World (Toronto Semitic Texts and Studies, 1; Toronto: Toronto University Press, 1970), 43–50. 97 Several commentators adduce hitpāqēd as “the sole surviving Hebrew Gt-stem verb”; Testen, “Arabic Evidence,” 5; see also T. Nöldeke, “Kleine Beiträge zur hebräischen Grammatik: 2) Das Reflexiv des Qal,” in Archiv für wissenschaftliche Erforschung des alten Testaments 1 (1867–1869), 458–60; Brockelmann, GVG,

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1:529–30 §257.H.a.δ; Bauer and Leander, Historische Grammatik, 281 §38f; Bergsträsser, Grammatik, 2:100 §18i; Yalon, “Hithpāʿelformen,” 217; Blau, “Über die t-Form,” 386; Boyle, “Infix-T Forms,” 104; W. Schottroff, “‫ פקד‬pqd heimsuchen,” THAT 2:466–86 (468); Garr, Dialect Geography, 120; IHBS, 360 §21.2.3b; J.H. Walton, “The Place of the hutqaṭṭēl within the D-Stem Group and Its Implications in Deuteronomy 24:4,” HS 32 (1991), 7–17 (9); M.A. Arnold, “Categorization of the Hitpaʿēl of Classical Hebrew” (Ph.D. Diss., Harvard University, 2005), 143 G1; S. Creason, “PQD Revisited,” in C.L. Miller (ed.), Studies in Semitic and Afroasiatic Linguistics Presented to Gene B. Gragg (Studies in Ancient Oriental Civilization, 60; Chicago: Oriental Institute of Chicago University, 2007), 40. Although one might argue that the prefix-form (way-)yitpāqĕdû (Judg 20:15) and the suffix-form hitpāqĕdû (Judg 20:15, 17) are simply examples of a tD-stem in which the ad hoc rule of degemination of qôp before vocalic šəwăʾ has operated, followed by the lengthening of the *a vowel to a long ā vowel under pause (see, e.g., GKC, 151 §54 l, which describes the gemination of the middle radical as “abnormally omitted”; Bean, “Phenomenological Study,” 17; and Walton, “The hutqaṭṭēl,” 10), only the suffixed inflection of this verb appears in contexts that might be pausal, and even those are marginal (Judg 20:15 with zaqeph qaton; Judg 20:17 with rebia). Moreover, the prefix-form (way-)yitpāqēd (Judg 21:9) cannot possibly display degemination of the q, because a full vowel follows; the form must therefore be regarded as a legitimate tG-stem form. Finally, one must recognize the verb’s passive counterpart, hotpāqĕdû (Num 1:47; 2:33; 26:62; 1 Kgs 20:27), which demonstrates a similar confusion between those forms without gemination of the second radical, and those with gemination (e.g., hukkabbēs [?]: Lev 13:55, 56; huṭṭammāʾâ: Deut 24:4; huddašnâ: Isa 34:6); see also W. Gesenius, Lehrgebäude der hebräischen Sprache (Leipzig: Christian & Vogel, 1817), 249 §71.4; I. Nordheimer, Critical Grammar of the Hebrew Language (2nd ed.; 2 vols.; New York: Wiley & Putnam, 1842), 137 §250; GKC, 150–51 §§54h, l; Bauer and Leander, Historische Grammatik, 285 §38j′; Joüon, 1:158–59 §53g; Bergsträsser, Grammatik, 2:100 §18i; Meyer, Grammatik, 2:125–26 §72.1a; Walton, “The hutqaṭṭēl,” 7–17; Arnold, “Categorization,” 9, 143 G1, 144 M1–2; but cf. Yellin, who categorizes the geminated forms as a passivized D-stem (which we might call an nD-stem) analogous to his *n-prefixed G-stem suffix-conjugation hippaʿel (an nG-stem, so to speak; “Hippaʿel-Nifʿal,” 96). Samaritan Hebrew manifests a cognate tG-stem in the verbs itfāqādu (cognate to hitpāqĕdû) and titgādēdu; cf. Biblical Hebrew √GDD, appearing in the hitpolal in Deut 14:1; Jer 5:7; 16:6; Z. Ben-Ḥayyim, A Grammar of Samaritan Hebrew. Based on the Recitation of the Law in Comparison with the Tiberian and Other Jewish Traditions (rev. ed.; Jerusalem: Hebrew University; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2000), 119; cf. R. Macuch, who adduces the etpeʿel form as a “fully indubitable [völlig unzweifelhaftes]

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

261

time contained a tG-stem that was subsequently lost, the variety of preserved forms causes some confusion. Most problematically, the suffixed inflection occurs in at least two different forms:

example of the Aramaic influence on Samaritan Hebrew” (our translation), rather than shared retention: “Die [samaritanische] Unterscheide von den [MT] Verbalformen sind fast insgesamt ein Zeugnis für die Abweichung vom ursprünglichen Geist der althebräischen Sprache und für den Verlust des echt hebräischen Sprachgefühls” (Grammatik des Samaritanischen Hebräisch [Studia Samaritana, 1; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1969], 260). 98 Perhaps the one clearly recognized example of the tG-form in Hebrew, the participial form maštîn (1 Sam 25:22, 34; 1 Kgs 14:10; 16:11; 21:21; 9:8) is to be derived from a Hebrew root √ŠYN (Brockelmann, GVG, 1:530 §257.H.a.δ; Bauer and Leander, Historische Grammatik, 405 §56u″; HALOT 1479, s.v. ‫“[ שׁין‬qal with reflexive -t-”]; Krebernik, “Gt- und tD-Stämme,” 238 §3.1.7; Streck, Die akkadischen Verbalstämme, 72–73 no. 189; IBHS, 425 n. 1; cf. BDB, 1010a, s.v. ‫שׁין‬, which lists hipʿil occurrences of the purported “secondary root” ‫ שׁתן‬under the root ‫שׁין‬, a nominal form of which, ‫שׁיִ ן‬, ַ means “urine”). This root is cognate to the Ugaritic verb √ṮYN (UT, 502 §19:2669; J. Aistleitner, Wörterbuch der Ugaritischen Sprache [Berichte über die Verhandlungen der Sächsischen Akademie der Wissenschaftern zu Leipzig, 106/3; Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1963], 339 §2895; L.R. Fisher, Ras Shamra Parallels. The Texts from Ugarit and the Hebrew Bible (AnOr, 49; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1972–1981), 1:187 no. 201; DUL, 2:918, s.v. /ṯ-n/; I.K.H. Halayqa, A Comparative Lexicon of Ugaritic and Canaanite [AOAT, 340; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2008], 355), to Syriac tān, ton, tūnēʾ, tyānēʾ, tyāntāʾ, etc. (R. Payne Smith, Thesaurus, 4410; J. Payne Smith, Dictionary, 608a, 611; Brockelmann, GVG, 1:530 §257.H.a.δ; Sokoloff, Syriac Lexicon, 1631b), and to Akkadian šiānum and šânu (AHw, 1225b–1226a; CAD, 17/1[Š/1]: 409b), as well as a number of other languages listed in HALOT. In Ugaritic and Akkadian, the root is found in the Gt-stem with the lexicalized meaning “to urinate.” The metathesis of the first root letter and the derivational prefixed *t is analogous to that of hitpaʿel (tD) forms beginning with sibilants, including šîn (GKC, 70 §19n, 149 §54b; Bauer and Leander, Historische Grammatik, 217 §23a; Joüon, 1:158 §53e), and the vowel patterning may be attributed to misanalysis of the verb as a hipʿil participle in the pre-Masoretic tradition (cf. Meyer, Grammatik, 2:151 §80.3k). 99 Cf. GKC, 151 §54l. Blau has argued that √ḤRH, along with a few other roots, actually manifests a tC-stem form (“Über die t-Form,” 387–88; but cf. the refutation of this position in Tropper, “T-Verbalstämme,” 419–21, esp. 421).

262

JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK (i) suff.-conj. *tiqtVl (possibly *tiqtil, in which Philippi’s Law operates in the inflections with endings beginning with consonants, e.g., 1.c.sg.100): tirgaltî: Hos 11:3; and tĕpôṣôtîkem: Jer 25:34. (ii) suff.-conj. *hitqatVl- (theme vowel indeterminate): hitpāqĕdû: Judg 20:15, 17.

Any serious attempt to understand the tG-stem in Hebrew must (a) provide an adequate explanation of this divergence of morphological forms in which the stem appears; (b) come to grips with the fact that the tirgaltî form is anomalous, even within the sparsely attested tG in Hebrew; and (c) explain the relationship of these two morphological biforms to the apparently related toponyms 101—which provide yet a third enigmatic morphology—and the prefix-conjugation inflections: (iii) inf. abs. *ʾitqatāl: ʾeštāʾōl: Josh 15:33; Judg 13:25; ʾeštĕmōaʿ: Josh 21:14; ʾeltĕqōn: Josh 15:59; and ʾeltĕqē: Josh 19:44; 21:23. (iv) pref.-conj. *yitqatil: wayyitpāqĕdû: Judg 20:15; wayyitpāqēd: Judg 21:9.

From these four preserved forms of the Hebrew tG, it is clear that our solution must account for the following: (1) the three-fold variation of the prefix displaying an epenthetic vowel alternatively before (i.e., hit-, ʾit-102) and after (ti-) the derivational *t; (2) the presence (in non-Hebrew [?] Canaanite) or absence (in Hebrew) of metathesis between the affixed derivational tāw and the first radical (ʾeltĕqōn 103 vs. hitpāqĕdû); and Lambdin, “Philippi’s Law Reconsidered,” 135–45. Following Testen, “Arabic Evidence,” 5. 102 Compare also ʾeštôlĕlû “they were despoiled” (Ps 76:6). Although this word’s vowel pointing diverges from the tG/Gt-stem forms adduced here, and may be compared more favorably to the tL-stem (Arabic VI-form, Diem’s t3 [“Entwicklung”]), the prefix ʾe- < *ʾi- displays a similar stage of the development. 103 W. Borée argued that this category of toponym should be traced to the common Hebrew tD (hitpaʿel), and displayed the normal metathesis of sibilants with the derivational tāw (e.g., *ʾitšammVʿ > ʾeštĕmōaʿ). He argued that the lāmed in ʾeltĕqē and ʾeltĕqōn and Mesha Inscription ʾltḥm acted like a sibilant in some dialects (Die alten Ortsnamen Palästinas [Leipzig: Pfeiffer, 1930], 70). However, Elitzur suggests a more reasonable approach: the absence of any gemination of the second radical and the conformity of the toponyms to the Arabic VIII maṣdar, or verbal noun, 100 101

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

263

(3) the form of the verbal base to which the affixed tāw was attached (suff.-conj. *-qtVl or *-qatVl-104; inf. *-qatāl; pref.-conj. *-qatil).105

Because criterion (2) involves two different language groups (non-Hebrew Canaanite with metathesis of the tG-stem derivational prefix vs. Hebrew), it can remain undiscussed in the following presentation, which proceeds from a Hebrew-language-internal standpoint. (Criterion [2] is thus assumed to be inoperative in the following discussion). We handle criteria (1) and (3) here in reverse order. VERBAL BASE OF THE HEBREW TG-STEM Before the original form of the derivational prefix may isolated and the conditions of its development described, we must reckon with the verbal base of the tG/Gt-stem. The verbal base of the tG-stem suffix-conjugation and prefix-conjugation in Hebrew is difficult to isolate with any certainty, since it requires first of all the supposition that the tG was, in fact, productive and secondly the assumption that it can be traced through crossSemitic comparison. Unfortunately, such comparison proves to be inconclusive with respect to the vowel pattern of the tG-stem verbal base(s). In Arabic, the base of the Gt- (VIII)-stem suffix-conjugation was *qatal (e.g., [i]qtatal; cf. Akk. perf. iptatras, pret. iptaras; Eth. impf. yəqat[t]al, suff.-conj. taqat[a]la, imptv. taqatal). However, the other forms are formed on a *-qatil base (Arab. pref.-conj. yiqtatilu, imptv. [i]qtatil, part. muqtatil; cf. Eth. inf. taqatəlot[?]) or a *-qitāl base (verb. noun [i]qtitālun). 106 Aramaic evidence would support a *-qatil base in the suffix-conjugation (BA [h/ʾ]itqətēl < */hitqatil/ [e.g., hitrəḥīṣû, 107 Dan 3:28], cf. Syr. ʾētqətēl / ʾētqətīl), suggest a derivation from the tG/Gt-stem (Ancient Place Names, 150 §31.3; see also Testen, “Arabic Evidence,” 5). Lieberman points out that these place names are not necessarily Hebrew in origin (“Afro-Asiatic Background,” 613 n. 205; cf. Bauer, “Kanaanäische Miszellen,” 410). 104 Diem reconstructs the suffix-conjugation base as *-qatal, which then became *-qtal in some forms through syncope (“Entwicklung,” 37 §9, 45–47 §§15–16). 105 The reduction of the vowel between the first and second radicals leads Testen (“Arabic Evidence,” 5) to posit two possible verbal bases: *(ʾi)štaʾāl > ʾeštāʾōl but *(ʾi)štimāʿ > ʾeštĕmōaʿ. Although this differentiation is a possibility, the nature of this first vowel will not be further discussed here. 106 For these forms, see the charts in Fischer, Grammar, 240; and Bennett, Comparative Semitic Linguistics, 104. 107 The long *ī thematic vowel presumably developed here as a response to the open syllable formed by the suffixation of the 3.m.pl. morpheme. However, Bauer and Leander (Historische Grammatik, 108 §34h–j) derive the suffix-conjugation

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JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK

prefix-conjugation (BA yitqətēl [e.g., yitʿăbēd, Dan 3:29], cf. Syr. nētqətēl / nētqətīl), and participle (BA mitqətēl [e.g., mityəhēb, Ezra 4:20], cf. Syr. mētqətēl / mētqətīl). The verbal base of the infinitive, however, was most likely *-qatāl (BA hitqətālâ [e.g., lǝ-hitqəṭālâ, Dan 2:13]; cf. the Canaanite toponyms mentioned above with form ʾeqtətōl). 108 The evidence from Ugaritic is sparse, thanks to its general orthographic lack of vowels, combined with complications occasioned by the possibility of syncope of the theme vowel.109 Thus, while there is not much explicit evidence for the verbal base of the tG-stem suffix-conjugation and prefix-conjugation forms in Hebrew, the language’s closest relatives demonstrate verbal bases in the *-qatal or *qatil categories, perhaps with passive and active semantic values, respectively. Hebrew-internal evidence is ambiguous as well. Because it provides evidence of a *t-prefixed verbal stem in which the middle radical lacked gemination, the verbal root √PQD may be the most secure root on which to base our judgment. Unfortunately, this root does not appear frequently enough to provide incontrovertible evidence concerning the vowels in the stem’s paradigmatic verbal base. The thematic vowel has been reduced in each exemplar because of the addition of 3.m/c.pl. suffixes (cf. the prefixform [way-]yitpāqĕdû [Judg 20:15] and the suffix-form hitpāqĕdû [Judg 20:15, 17]), allowing us to posit at best an original *-qatVl base. Neither does the verbal form tirgaltî allow us to make a definitive judgment concerning the verbal base of the tG-stem suffix-conjugation, since it too can be derived either from *-qtVl or *-qVtVl (see below). However, comparing the two verbal forms hitpāqĕdû and tirgaltî side-by-side may prove instructive. The former verb corroborates a vowel *a between R1 and R2, as was suggested by cross-Semitic comparison. 110 Evidence from the latter verbal exemplar verbal base originally from *-qatal. Since none of the Biblical Aramaic 3.m.sg. suffix-conjugations are formed from a strong root, it is quite difficult to validate this assertion and *-qatil is not precluded. 108 For the Aramaic forms, see Bauer and Leander, Historische Grammatik, 106–9 §34. 109 E.g., J. Tropper, “Zur Vokalisierung des ugaritischen Gt-Stammes,” UF 22 (1990), 371–73; idem, UG 518–19 §74.232.1, 528 §74.234.1; idem, “Die TVerbalstämme,” 421; cf. Krebernik, “Gt- und tD-Stämme,” 229–31 §2.1.3; Huehnergard, UVST, 320–21; D. Sivan, Grammatical Analysis and Glossary of the

Northwest Semitic Vocables in Akkadian Texts of the 15th–13th Century BC from Canaan and Syria (Kevelaer: Butzon & Bercker; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener

Verlag, 1984), 172–73. 110 Although see below for an alternative explanation of tirgaltî’s development

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265

would limit the thematic vowel to *a or *i (> a by Philippi’s law111), also corroborating the cross-Semitic data summarized above. Finally, we may find some Hebrew-internal confirmation for a tG-verbal base *-qatil—albeit derived from a later vocal tradition—in the single case of Babylonian pointing reading ‫( ִה ְתנַ ֵשּׂא‬Ezek 17:14). 112 Thus, despite ambiguity concerning the quality of the thematic vowel between R2 and R3, enough evidence exists to suggest that we are dealing with a *-qatVl base, in which V = a or i, and in which the middle radical is singleton (i.e., not geminate). Furthermore, the spirantization of gîmel in the word under discussion supports the reconstruction of a verbal base with a reduced vowel between R1 and R2. 739F

740F

THE PREFIX OF THE HEBREW TG-STEM The morphology of the prefix is more difficult to reconstruct. Under normal circumstances, the usual Canaanite (and specifically Hebrew) developments would have yielded the expected form *ʾanōkī hitragaltī, which would presumably have obtained in the Masoretic vocalization as ʾānōkî hitrāgaltî, were the tG-stem a recognizable and productive formation. Even if the consonantal structure ‫ התרגלתי‬were to have been reanalyzed as a tDstem (i.e., hitpaʿel) verb, as seems to have occurred broadly in Hebrew, 113 the phrase should still have appeared with the prefixal hê as hitraggaltî, through the operation of rule (3) and analogy (6), given above. So why did this “normal” development not occur in the case at hand? We suggest that the answer to this question lies in the morphosyntactic environment established with the irregular (although not uncommon) prepositioning of the independent pronoun serving as the verb’s subject. As noted above, Ugaritic and Arabic normally affix this epenthetic prefix to otherwise unprefixed t-stem forms (section II.b). But in fact a third Semitic language—Hebrew—demonstrates the loss of the epenthetic vowel on a t-stem form in a definable morphosyntactic environment in later recorded dialects of the language. In Mishnaic Hebrew the nipʿal infinitive lost the consonant *h- of its epenthetic prefix when following an 741F

from a *-qtal base. 111 Lambdin, “Philippi’s Law Reconsidered,” 135–45. 112 For the pointed text, see P. Kahle, Masoreten des Ostens. Die ältesten punktierten Handschriften des Alten Testaments und der Targume (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1913), 195; cited by Bergsträsser, Grammatik, 2:100 §18i. 113 Bergsträsser, Grammatik, 2:100 §18i; Yalon, “Hithpāʿelformen,” 220; Speiser, “Durative Hithpa‘el,” 118–21; Dombrowski, “Some Remarks,” 220–23; Siebesma, Function, 167, 169; Blau, Phonology and Morphology, 232 §4.3.5.6.1; and n. 96 above.

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inseparable preposition (e.g., ‫ ליבטל‬/l-ibbaṭēl/ < *lə-hibbaṭēl < *l-hinbaṭil114). Typically, this apocope of *h- is presumed to occur as a function of the elision of intervocalic hê, known from elsewhere in Hebrew. We may wonder, in light of the discussion of sandhi in Arabic and Ugaritic given above in section II.c, whether it was not an alternative way in some dialects of Hebrew of forming the nipʿal infinitive when it stood in close contact with a preceding vowel-final word (i.e., *n=qatil > inqatil / -V# __). More accurately stated, we propose that the development of the epenthetic prefix consonant may have been blocked in environments already involving the operation of sandhi. Indeed, this morphological phenomenon is not unknown in Biblical Hebrew, where we find in MT the forms ‫וּב ָכּ ְשׁלוֹ‬ ִ ûbikkāšəlô (< *û-bə-hikkāšəlô, literally “and in his being tripped,” Prov 24:17), ‫ ֵבּ ָה ֵרג‬bēhārēg (< *bǝ-hēhārēg, “in the killing of,” Ezek 26:15), and ‫ ֵבּ ָﬠ ֵטף‬bēʿāṭēp (< *bə-hēʿāṭēp, “in the faintness of,” Lam 2:11; cf. Ps 61:3) and others. 115 Clearly, this was not the form that became generalized throughout Biblical Hebrew; nonetheless, its existence in both BH and MH is noteworthy. An additional piece of evidence comes from Samaritan Hebrew. Grammarians that dialect regularly describe the “collapse” of the epenthetic syllable in the suffix-conjugation of the hitpaʿel stem(s) (see above) when the verbal exemplar follows the conjunction wa-. In the Samaritan recitation tradition, we find forms “such as wētqaddeštimma ‫והתקדשתם‬, wētmakkertimma ‫והתמכרתם‬, wētbårråk ‫והתברך‬, [and] wētbårrå̄ku ‫ ”והתברכו‬116 as well as ētāllak and ētāttanu. 117 According to Ben-Ḥayyim, 742F

743F

74F

745F

M.H. Segal, A Grammar of Mishnaic Hebrew (Oxford: Clarendon; repr.; Ancient Language Resources; Eugene, Or.: Wipf & Stock, 1927), 58 §115; M. Pérez Fernández, An Introductory Grammar of Rabbinic Hebrew (trans. John Elwolde; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 146 §20.5. The yôd here marks the short *i epenthetic vowel. Aaron Rubin has drawn to our attention (personal communication) the fact that the form of the infinitive in Mishnaic Hebrew may have come about by anology with the prefix-conjugation (for this argument, see G.A. Rendsburg, Diglossia in Ancient Hebrew [American Oriental Studies, 72; New Haven: American Oriental Society, 1990], 97–102 §§56–59, esp. p. 100); if this argument stands, then the apocope of *h discussed here would no longer be able to serve as evidence for the phonetic development we are proposing. 115 Cf. GKC, §51l; BDB, 742, s.v. ‫ עטף‬III; Bauer and Leander, Historische Grammatik, 228 §25z; Joüon, 1:150 §51b; also G.A. Rendsburg, “Laqṭîl Infinitives: Yiph‘il or Hiph‘il?” Or 51 (1982), 231–38; Tsumura, “Vowel sandhi in Biblical Hebrew.” 116 Ben-Ḥayyim, Grammar, 119 §2.1.5.1. 117 Arnold, “Categorization,” 9; see also Macuch, Grammatik des 114

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

267

A feature to be noted especially is the length of the vowel ē in the syllable wēt- in the perfect, for as a rule waw conjunctive attaches itself directly to the vowel of a word beginning with an original guttural consonant, such as ‫ועשרון‬: wišron, ‫ואת‬: wit. Thus, *wit- and not wēt, is to be expected. This would seem to indicate that what we have here is a different origin, as if it were *wahit > *wa’it … > wēt, i.e., that the vowel a of the waw conjunctive was not elided here as in the other combinations…. 118 746F

Although it is currently impossible to describe fully the developmental changes that yielded the Samaritan Hebrew forms, 119 it is clear that one of two processes is at work in this dialect of Hebrew: either (a) the *h of the hitpaʿel prefix has elided in environments involving the prefixation of the conjunction, or (b) the regular development of the t-stems’ epenthetic syllable (*ø > *ʾV- → hV- / #__tq(V)tal) was arrested or blocked entirely in those same environments, so that the epenthetic syllable never fully developed as it did in the remainder of the paradigm, but instead allowed the present pronunciation to obtain. Orthographically, the first option is preferable, since it would explain the presence of hê in the written forms. Phonologically, however, the second option is more consistent with the forms of the proposed Biblical Hebrew tG-stem we have been examining, as the following discussion will show. If this latter solution is the case, the 74F

samaritanischen Hebräisch, 291 §aα. Professors Na’ama Pat-El and Gary Rendsburg have independently brought to our attention the argument presented by Y. Kutscher (and recently addressed by U. Mor) explaining the loss of *ʾ in the direct object marker in some forms of Hebrew and Aramaic (Y. Kutscher, “The Language of the Hebrew and Aramaic Letters of Bar Kochbah and Those of His Generation. Part 1: The Hebrew Letters,” Leš 26 [1962], 7-23, here 18-19 [Hebrew]; U. Mor, “The Grammar of the Epigraphic Hebrew Documents from Judaea between the First and the Second Revolts” [Ph.D. Diss., Ben-Gurion University, 2009], 242–43 §5.22 [Hebrew]). The process is not entirely identical to the one presented here, since, from cursory inspection of these sources, neither Kutscher nor Mor relates this syncope to a vowel-final preceding word. In fact, Mor provides several instances in which the direct object marker comprises the first morpheme of the cited text. The problem deserves further study, and would benefit from a more thorough analysis of the surrounding phonetic environment than can be accomplished in this paper. 118 Ben-Ḥayyim, Grammar, 119 §2.1.5.2. 119 Ben-Ḥayyim states that the problem “requires further study” (Grammar, 92– 93 §1.5.3.4).

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JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK

presence of hê in the Samaritan Hebrew forms may be explained as a case of orthographic leveling: on this model, it was never pronounced.

II.D. THE MORPHOLOGY OF TIRGALTÎ IN LIGHT OF THE HEBREW TGSTEM

Upon reconsideration of the form tirgaltî, it is necessary to note that, although it is normally handled extra-contextually, 120 it appears in a linguistic environment replicating the same conditions governing the elision or non-development of hê in the Mishnaic and Samaritan Hebrew examples described immediately above. To be specific, the form tirgaltî appears immediately after the 1.c.sg. independent pronoun ʾānōkî. If we accept the general applicability of the morphosyntactic explanation proposed here, two avenues are then open to us to describe the morphology of tirgaltî more precisely. Each of the following solutions assumes that, when following words or proclitic morphemes ending naturally in vowels, the Hebrew tGstem suffix-conjugation did not need to insert an epenthetic vowel to alleviate its word-initial consonant-cluster. Instead, it preferred to allow the two words to stand in close juncture, blocking the expected development of the epenthetic syllable. Thus, although development of an epenthetic syllable *hi- broadly obtained, the operation of sandhi between a vowel-final word and an immediately following *CC-initial word optionally prevented this development. (Solution 1): Positing an original verbal base *-rgal (see above) allows us to reconstruct an analogical process whereby the proto-Masoretic reading tradition substituted a known vowel pattern on an unfamiliar derived stem’s consonantal structure (‫)תרגלתי‬. The form was clearly comprised of two elements: a derivational prefix ‫ת‬, recognizable from the hitpaʿel, and the verbal root ‫רגל‬. This composite derived form stood over against the expected development of the form **hitrgaltî (with its analogically anticipated orthographic realization **‫התרגלתי‬, not to mention its violation of rules of syllabification in Hebrew) and instead paralleled that of the nipʿal suffix-conjugation. This analogue allowed the pre-Masoretic vocal tradition to insert the same vowels into the new form’s consonantal structure, yielding *niR1R2aR3- → *tirgal-. (Solution 2): It is possible to obtain the same form tirgaltî by reconstructing the direct affixation of derivational *t to the verbal base 120

§91l.

See, e.g., GKC, 153 §55h, cf. the similar handling of ‫יכם‬ ֶ ‫פוֹצוֹת‬ ִ ‫ ְתּ‬on p. 258

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

269

*-ragVl. On this model, we postulate the form’s morphological development in the following manner. We begin by positing the (optional?) blocking of the normal development of the epenthetic syllable when immediately following a vowel-final word: (7) *ʾanōkī t=ragVltī > *ʾanōkī tragVltī This form was presumably stable throughout the era of spoken Biblical Hebrew. But with the reduction of unstressed short vowels in open, unaccented syllables, a morphologically unstable form developed: (8) *ʾanōkī tragVltī > **ʾanōkī trəgVltī No longer recognizing the effect of the sandhi, the pre-Masoretic tradition inserted an anaptyctic vowel of indeterminate quality between the derivational prefix and the verbal base, which quickly reduced to vocalic šəwăʾ and then became ḥîreq by the rule of šəwăʾ. Concomitantly, the thematic vowel developed into a, either by virtue of its origin as *a (hence, *-rəgaltī > -r[ə]galtî) or by the operation of Philippi’s law (*í > á / __CCV#, hence, *-rəgíltī > -r[ə]gáltî 121), and any spirantization of the *g following a vowel was neutralized through misanalysis of the underlying verbal base: (9) **ʾanōkī trəgVltī > *ʾanōkī tərəgVltī > ʾānōkî tirgaltî In either of these reconstructed scenarios—i.e., analogical extension from the nipʿal or natural development followed by misanalysis—the morphogenesis of tirgaltî may plausibly be traced to its morphosyntactic environment, in which the form followed a vowel-final word and was thus eligible for the operation of sandhi. 122

III. PRELIMINARY CONCLUSIONS REGARDING THE HEBREW tG-STEM AND TIRGALTÎ IN HOS 11:3 In summary, cross-Semitic comparison provides us with a set of principles guiding our interpretation of the putative tipʿel stem, a stem to which Hebrew ‫( ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬Hos 11:3) is often assigned. In short, there is no tipʿel stem. Instead, our investigation here has suggested that the verbal form tirgaltî should be analyzed as a tG-stem suffix-conjugation in the 1.c.sg. inflection of a verbal root √RGL, phonologically conditioned by an environment in which the preceding word ended in a (long) vowel. This assessment is made all the more plausible by the close conjunction of ‫ וְ ָאנ ִֹכי ִת ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬signaled by the accent mehuppak under the first word. Our tG-stem analysis is more plausible than is the earlier suggestion by Barth that the form developed E.g., Lambdin, “Philippi’s Law Reconsidered,” 135–45. As Hutton has shown elsewhere, a similar solution is possible to account for the verbal form təpôṣôtîkem (Jer 25:34; “Morphosyntactic Explanation,” 151–69). 121 122

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JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK

internally to Hebrew and was derived from t-preformative nouns.123 Because of the possibility of environmental conditioning, the original Hebrew tG-stem may occasionally take the form tipʿel under the correct circumstances. Moreover, this study suggests that the Heb. tG-stem is plausibly reconstructed as a semi-productive stem in some varieties of Hebrew; the unrecognized exemplars of this stem were subsequently conflated with—and pointed as—the hitpaʿel. 124 In particular, this seems to be the case for the bundle of dialects commonly known as “Israelian Hebrew,” in which can be found plausibly reconstructed tG-stem forms of other Hebrew verbal roots. 125 If this analysis is correct, the productive or semi-productive use of the tG-stem would potentially serve as an element of distinction between Israelian (Northern) and Judahite (Southern) Hebrew dialects. With respect to the semantic value of the word ‫תּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬,ִ we hope to have shown that the lexeme’s meaning should be related to the various functions of the tG/Gt-stems in the various Semitic languages rather than to any perceived origin in a nominal for which we have no evidence. Although the various semantic functions of the tG-stem are quite difficult to pin down with any certainty, we can say with some degree of assurance that the word ‫ ִתּ ְרגַּ ְל ִתּי‬is unlikely to denote causative verbal action. Through this recognition, we would therefore recommend that the two predominant ways of translating the word causatively (i.e., “I taught to walk” and “I led”) be given up. Only through a more linguistically sophisticated exegesis of the text of Hosea 11:1–4 will this word yield its semantic secrets.

APPENDIX A: BIBLIOGRAPHIC EXCURSUS OF SEMITIC tSTEM FORMS 1. DEIR ʿALLĀ

The early argument over the ambivalent nature of the dialect from Deir ʿAllā as either (a) most similar to Aramaic, and possibly a very conservative form of early Aramaic, much like Samʾalian Aramaic, or (b) most similar to Canaanite, is increasingly being jettisoned as a meaningful dichotomy in favor of a model that understands the language as an entirely separate dialect of Northwest Semitic. Those holding the first opinion include J. Hoftijzer and G. van der Kooij, P.K. McCarter (early work), A. Wolters, A. Barth, Nominalbilding, 278–81 §180a, esp. 279; idem, “Grammatik,” 19–21. See above, n. 96. 125 E.g., Rendsburg, Israelian Hebrew, esp. 17–26; Yoo, “Israelian Hebrew,” esp. 12–17. 123 124

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

271

Lemaire, and D. Pardee. 126 Among those holding the second, we may list the works of J.A. Hackett, and B.A. Levine, 127 although Hackett, at least, has backed off this position in light of more recent discoveries calling into question such a rigid dichotomy. 128 For the third opinion, see the more recent works of P.K. McCarter and the position endorsed by J. Huehnergard. 129 G.A. Rendsburg has offered his own typological analysis of the inscription, suggesting a close correspondence to Israelian Hebrew. 130 Regardless of the dialect’s proper categorization, Hoftijzer distinguished four different verbal forms that displayed a prefixed *t: ʾtyḥdw (“they assembled”; I 7 [= line 5 in McCarter, “Balaam Texts”; and Hackett, Balaam Text]); ytʿṣ (“he will seek advice”; II 9); ytmlk (“he will seek counsel”; II 9); and ʾtntq (“he pulled, tore down”; V). 131 However, of these, several commentators have raised questions concerning the verbs’ stems: Garr, citing Hackett’s dissertation, suggests that ʾtyḥdw and ʾtntq are more J. Hoftijzer and G. van der Kooij (eds.), Aramaic Texts from Deir ʿAlla (Documenta et Monumenta Orientis Antiqui, 19; Leiden: Brill, 1976), 300; P.K. McCarter, “The Balaam Texts from Deir ʿAllā: The First Combination,” BASOR 222 (1980), 49–60 (50–51); A. Wolters, “The Balaamites of Deir ʿAllā as Aramean Deportees,” HUCA 59 (1988), 101–13 (110–11); A. Lemaire, “Les inscriptions sur plâtre de Deir ʿAlla et leur signification histoirique et culturelle,” in J. Hoftijzer and G. van der Kooij (eds.), The Balaam Text from Deir ʿAlla Re-Evaluated: Proceedings of the International Symposium Held at Leiden 21–24 August 1989 [= BTDARE] (Leiden: Brill, 1991), 33–57 (50); D. Pardee, “The Linguistic Classification of the Deir ʿAlla Text Written on Plaster,” in BTDARE, 100–105 (104–5). 127 J. Naveh, Review of J. Hoftijzer and G. van der Kooij (eds.), Aramaic Texts from Deir ʿAlla, IEJ 29 (1979), 133–36 (135–36); J.C. Greenfield, Review of J. Hoftijzer and G. van der Kooij (eds.), Aramaic Texts from Deir ʿAlla, JSS 25 (1980), 248–52 (250–51); Hackett, Balaam Text, 123–24; B.A. Levine, “The Balaam Inscription from Deir ʿAlla: Historical Aspects,” in Biblical Archaeology Today. 126

Proceedings of the International Congress on Biblical Archaeology, Jerusalem, April 1984 (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1985), 326–39 (329–30). J.A. Hackett, personal communication. P.K. McCarter, “The Dialect of the Deir ʿAlla Texts,” in BTDARE, 87–99 (97); and J. Huehnergard, “Remarks on the Classification of the Northwest Semitic Languages,” in BTDARE, 282–93 (282). 130 G.A. Rendsburg, “The Dialect of the Deir ʿAlla Inscription,” BiOr 50 (1993), 309–28. 131 Hoftijzer and van der Kooij, Aramaic Texts, 192, 228–29, 256–57, 292; see also B.A. Levine, “The Deir ʿAlla Plaster Inscriptions,” JAOS 101 (1981), 195–205 (201). 128 129

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JEREMY M. HUTTON AND SAFWAT MARZOUK

plausibly analyzed as tD-stem forms. 132 The evidence Hackett mustered for a tD of ytʿṣ was much more equivocal, given the confusion over the verb’s root, 133 and although she categorized the verb as tG in her grammatical summary, 134 Garr removes the form from consideration as “unexplained.” 135

2. UGARITIC For the Gt-stem in Ugaritic generally, see the works of E. Hammerschaimb, F. Gröndahl, E.D. Mallon, S. Segert, M. Krebernik, J. Tropper, D. Sivan, and D. Pardee. 136 Because Ugaritic used a primarily consonantal alphabet, determining the vocalization of the various forms is difficult. yqtl: The prefix form tštil “you will ask(?)” (KTU 2.17:15) would suggest an i-class vowel.137 But yštal “let him ask” or “he asked” (KTU 2.42:23; 2.70:12; 2.71:10) would suggest an a-class vowel.138 M. Dijkstra Garr, Dialect Geography, 119–20; Hackett, Balaam Text, 40, 64, 96, 97. Hackett, Balaam Text, 64. 134 Ibid., 96, 97. 135 Garr, Dialect Geography, 120. 136 E. Hammerschaimb, Das Verbum im Dialekt von Ras Schamra (Copenhagen: Munksgaard, 1941), 42–49; C. H. Gordon, Ugaritic Textbook (Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1965), 1:81 §9.33; F. Gröndahl, Die Personennamen der Texte aus Ugarit (Studia Pohl Dissertationes Scientificae de Rebus Orientis Antiqui, 1; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1967), 59–60 §97; E.D. Mallon, “The Ugaritic Verb in the Letters and Administrative Documents” (Ph.D. Diss., The Catholic University of America, 1982), 10 §1.3.2, 11–12 §1.4.2, 29–30 n. 19; S. Segert, A Basic Grammar of the Ugaritic Language (Los Angeles/Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984), 66 §54.32; M. Krebernik, “Gt- und tD-Stämme,” 227–70; Tropper, UG, 518–32 §74.23; D. Sivan, Grammar, 128–31; D. Pardee, Review of J. Tropper, Ugaritische Grammatik, AfO (2003– 2004), 263–66 [online version, ca. 2004; we have been unable to find the original version available during the writing of this article]. 137 D. Marcus, “The Three Alephs in Ugaritic,” JANES 1 (1968–1969), 50–60 (59 and n. 167); Mallon, “Ugaritic Verb,” 10 §1.3.2; D. Pardee, “Will the Dragon Never Be Muzzled?” UF 16 (1984), 251–55 (252 n. 7); idem, Review of Tropper, UG, 264; Verreet, “Beobachtungen,” 319–20; Huehnergard, UVST, 320–21. 138 J. Blau, “Zur Lautlehre und Vokalismus des Ugaritischen,” UF 11 (1979), 55–62 (61–62); Segert, Basic Grammar, 66 §54.32; D. Sivan, “Tštʾil and yštʾal in Ugaritic: Problems in Methodology,” UF 22 (1990), 311–12; J.M. Hutton, “Ugaritic */š/ and the Roots šbm and šm[d] in KTU 1.3.III.40,” Maarav 13 (2006), 75–83 (81 and n. 28). 132 133

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

273

suggested the “orthographical nature” of the distinction, 139 and A.F. Rainey proposed that the a-theme vowel indicates a passive.140 However, Tropper has argued convincingly that the problem can be solved by postulating syncope of the theme vowel in long yaqtulu forms (*tištaʾalu > /tištaʾlu/, written tštil), but retention of the theme vowel in the short yaqtul preterite and jussive forms (/yištaʾal/, written yštal). 141 Although Tropper does not dismiss the possibility of verbs with i- and u-class thematic vowels,142 all known instances of Gt-prefix-conjugations can be accounted for by positing a form *yiqtatal-. qtl: The vocalization of the Ugaritic Gt-stem suffix form seems to be preserved in the word ištir (KTU 1.18.IV.15; 4.290:3; and possibly 2.32:10; 2.72:42), typically taken to preserve an original i-vowel, hence /ʾištaʾira/. 143 However, by the same logic as in the prefix form, the grapheme i may indicate /Vʾ/, so that ištir actually indicates /ʾištaʾra/ < *ʾištaʾara.144

3. ARAMAIC (AND ITS CONGENERS) For the tG-stem in Aramaic, see especially the works of Garr and, more recently, S.E. Fassberg. 145 For the most part, in Official Aramaic, the derivational *t was prefixed to the verbal base, as seen in the Sefire inscriptions, which contain three or four putative examples of the stem. 146 M. Dijkstra, “Marginalia to the Ugaritic Letters in KTU (I),” UF 19 (1987), 37–48 (37 n. 5). 140 Rainey, “Observations,” 167; idem, “A New Grammar of Ugaritic,” Or 56 (1987), 391–402 (395). 141 Tropper, “Vokalisierung,” 371–73; cf. idem, UG, 518–19 §74.232.1; cf. Krebernik, “Gt- und tD-Stämme,” 229–31 §2.1.3; see also examples in Huehnergard, UVST, 320–21; Sivan, Grammatical Analysis and Glossary, 172–73. 142 Tropper, “Vokalisierung,” 373. 143 Sivan, Grammar, 128–29, following J. Hoftijzer, “A Note on G 10833: ʾištʾir and Related Matters,” UF 3 (1971), 361–64; and Tropper, “Vokalisierung,” 373; also Krebernik, “Gt- und tD-Stämme,” 229 §2.1.2. 144 Tropper, UG, 528 §74.234.1; cf. Pardee, Review of Tropper, UG, 264. 145 Garr, Dialect Geography, 119; and S.E. Fassberg, “t-Stem Verbs without Metathesis in Aramaic and Hebrew Documents from the Judean Desert,” in R. Hasselbach and N. Pat-El (eds.), Language and Nature: Papers Presented to John Huehnergard on the Occasion of His 60th Birthday (Studies in Ancient Oriental Civilization, 67; Chicago: The Oriental Institute, 2012), 27–38. Fassberg provides an impressive overview of the realization of the tG/Gt-stem in various Middle and Late Aramaic dialects. 146 See, e.g., J.A. Fitzmyer, The Aramaic Inscriptions of Sefire (rev. ed.; BibOr, 19A; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1995), 195. 139

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We find in these inscriptions the following forms: (a) ytšmʿ “may be heard” (Sf I A 29); and (b) wlytḥzh “so that it will not be seen” (Sf I A 28); although, cf. the suggested emendations wlyt ḥzh and wly[šgh] by, respectively, A. Dupont-Sommer and J. Starcky, and J.C. Greenfield.147 Dupont-Sommer plausibly reconstructed two more forms: ytšmʿn “let them be heard” (Sf I B [9]) and ttʿbd “may it be done” (Sf I C [7]). 148 Finally, Dupont-Sommer reconstructed a Dt-stem form [yš]tḥṭ “may it be destroyed” (I A 32), 149 but contrast the subsequent interpretation of J.C. Greenfield, who separates the roots √ŠḤṬ and √ŠḤT. 150 In Nerab 2.4, we find the form ʾtʾḥz “it was closed”151 and ltgmrw in KAI 214:30, which C. Sarauw and P.-E. Dion interpreted as indicating the precative particle /lV-/ prefixed to an apocopated 3.m.pl. prefix form, hence, something like /lVtgamVrū/ < *lVyitgamVrū (compare Akkadian liprus). 152 In the Old (or Peripheral?) Aramaic inscription from Tell elFakheriyah (KAI 309), we find an example of a Gt form (ygtzr “may it be cut off/cut itself off”; line 23). The editors of the editio princeps classify the form as an etpeʿel stem verb, arguing that ygtzr displays metathesis between the *g and the now-infixed *t, and comparing this form to ltgmrw in the Hadad Inscription of Panammuwa I (KAI 214:30). 153 But S.A. Kaufman argues that metathesis is an unnecessary assumption, since Semitic always A. Dupont-Sommer with J. Starcky, “Les inscriptions araméennes de Sfiré (Stèles I et II),” Mémoires présentés pars divers savants à l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres 15 (Paris: Imprimerie Nationale, 1958), 197–351 (214, 241); and J.C. Greenfield, “Linguistic Matters in the Sfire Inscriptions,” Leš 27–28 (1964), 303–13 (308) (Hebrew). 148 For further discussion of these forms, see Fitzmyer, Aramaic Inscriptions, 86, 87, 103. 149 Dupont-Sommer, “Inscriptions,” 214, 243; see also Fitzmyer, Aramaic Inscriptions, 89, 195. 150 J.C. Greenfield, Review of J.A. Fitzmyer, The Aramaic Inscriptions of Sefîre, JBL 87 (1968): 240–41 (241). 151 For discussion, see, e.g., J.C.L. Gibson, Syrian Semitic Inscriptions. Vol. 2: Aramaic Inscriptions (Oxford: Clarendon, 1975), 98. 152 C. Sarauw, “Zu den Inschriften von Sendschirli,” ZA 20 (1907), 59–67 (60– 61); P.-E. Dion, La langue de Ya’udi: Description et classement de l’ancien parler de Zencirli dans le cadre des langues sémitiques du nord-ouest (n.p.: Éditions SR, 1974), 167. For discussion of the particle, see Dion, Langue, 166–70; T. Muraoka, “The Tell-Fekherye Bilingual Inscription and Early Aramaic,” AbrN 22 (1983– 1984), 79–117 (95–98 §§11–12). 153 A. Abou-Assaf, P. Bordreuil, and A.R. Millard, La Statue de Tell Fekherye et son inscription bilingue assyro-araméenne (Études Assyriologiques; Paris: Éditions Recherche sur les civilizations, 1982), 37, 46. 147

MORPHOLOGY OF THE TG STEM IN HEBREW & TIRGALTÎ

275

had a Gt stem. 154 Similarly, in response to J. Tropper, who claims that the Fakhariyah inscription exemplified the ancestral Northeast Syrian/Mespotamian Old Aramaic from which Official Aramaic descended, 155 J. Huehnergard cautions that “the dialect of the Fakhariya text cannot itself be the ancestor of Official Aramaic, exhibiting as it does the infixed Gt form rather than the inherited, common Aramaic prefixed tG form, which is also found in Official and later forms of Aramaic.” 156 The discrepancy between the tG and Gt-stems in the Aramaic and protoAramaic dialects suggests that caution is in order when dealing with the evidence presented by these linguistic variants.

154 S.A. Kaufman, “Reflections on the Assyrian-Aramaic Bilingual from Tell Fakhariyeh,” Maarav 3 (1982), 137–75 (173); see also Muraoka, “Tell-Fekherye,” 95 §10. 155 J. Tropper, Die Inschriften von Zincirli (ALASP, 6; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 1993), 311. 156 J. Huehnergard, “What Is Aramaic?” Aram 7 (1995), 261–82 (274 n. 35).

THE FALLACY OF ‘TRUE AND FALSE’ IN PROPHECY ILLUSTRATED BY JER 28:8–9 MATTHIJS J. DE JONG

THE NETHERLANDS BIBLE SOCIETY 1. INTRODUCTION The study of ancient Near Eastern prophecy has shown that a principal distinction between ‘prophecy of salvation’ and ‘prophecy of judgement’ is questionable.1 The prophets in the ancient Near East did much more than just speaking pleasant words to those who paid them. 2 Encouragement, although taking a prominent position in ancient Near Eastern prophecy, was accompanied by divine claims. Both in Mari and in Assyria, we see that if such claims were not granted or if a king had otherwise not fulfilled his duties, the gods, through their prophets, could reproach him. More drastically, prophecy of encouragement could be turned upside down. Whereas normally the gods encouraged the king and announced the annihilation of his enemies, announcements of annihilation could also be directed against the king as part of a declaration of divine support to his adversary.3 The same prophetic voice that encouraged and legitimized the king, could also formulate demands on him, or even choose the side of his adversaries. The fact that prophets functioned within the existing order did not mean that they always agreed with the king and his politics. The interest In particular the various contributions by Martti Nissinen, mentioned below. M. Nissinen, “Das kritische Potential in der altorientalischen Prophetie,” in M. Köckert and M. Nissinen (eds.), Propheten in Mari, Assyrien und Israel (FRLANT, 201; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2003), 1–32 . 3 M. Nissinen, References to Prophecy in Neo-Assyrian Sources (SAAS, 7; Helsinki: University Press, 1998), 108–162. Although kings tried to forbid this kind of prophecy, it was nevertheless possible, see Nissinen, “Das kritische Potential,” 24–25. 1 2

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of the cosmic and social-political order could well transcend the interests of an individual king.4 Prophets functioned as part of the broader system of divination.5 Prophets were part of this system, which means that they spoke and acted for the benefit of social and cosmic stability.6 So, in the ancient Near East, prophecy could include many aspects—both supportive, cautionary, and critical. In all cases, its intent was to support the collective well-being and to serve the political and cosmic order. The categories of Heilsprophetie and Unheilsprophetie are as such not applicable to prophecy in the ancient Near East. 7 The concept of ‘true versus false prophecy’ does not play a role in ancient Near Eastern sources either. Letters from the Mari archives refer to a procedure of checking reported prophetic oracles by extispicy; this was to check whether the oracle and its interpretation were trustworthy. 8 The idea that certain kinds of prophetic messages were ‘false’, and others ‘true’, however, is lacking. Two passages from the Neo-Assyrian period have been discussed by Martti Nissinen as examples of ‘false prophecy’, 9 but this label does not fit these texts. The first example comes from the so-called Succession Treaty of Esarhaddon. 10 This lengthy treaty contains a section 4 For the prophetic function, see M.J. de Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets. A Comparative Study of the Earliest Stages of the Isaiah Tradition and the Neo-Assyrian Prophecies (VTSup, 117; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2007),

294–318. 5 M. Nissinen, “Prophecy and Omen Divination: Two Sides of the Same Coin,” in A. Annus (ed.), Divination and Interpretation of Signs in the Ancient World (Chicago: University of Chicago, 2010), 341–51; A.M. Kitz, “Prophecy as Divination,” CBQ 65 (2003), 22–42. 6 M. Nissinen, “The Socioreligious Role of the Neo-Assyrian Prophets,” in M. Nissinen (ed.), Prophecy in its Ancient Near Eastern Context. Mesopotamian, Biblical and Arabian Perspectives (SBLSS, 13; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2000), 110–111. 7 Cf. also the description of ancient Near Eastern prophecy in M.J. de Jong, “Biblical Prophecy – A Scribal Enterprise. The Old Testament Prophecy of Unconditional Judgement considered as a Literary Phenomenon,” VT 61 (2011), 48–51. 8 Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecies, 16. See J.M. Sasson, “About ‘Mari and the Bible’,” RA 92 (1998), 97–123, here 116–117. 9 M. Nissinen, “Falsche Prophetie in neuassyrischer und deuteronomistischer Darstellung,” in T. Veijola (ed.), Das Deuteronomium und seine Querbeziehungen (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1996), 172–195. 10 S. Parpola and K. Watanabe, Neo-Assyrian Treaties and Loyalty Oaths (SAA, 2; Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 1988), text 6. Nissinen, “Falsche Prophetie,” 176–182.

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that deals with potential propagators of malevolence against Assurbanipal, the crown prince. This stipulation obliges the oath-takers to inform Assurbanipal, if they hear any “evil, ill, and ugly word that is mendacious and harmful to Assurbanipal” be it “from the mouth of his enemy, from the mouth of his ally (...), or from the mouth of a raggimu, a maḫḫû, or an inquirer of divine words (šā’ilu amat ili), or from the mouth of any human being at all.” 11 This text reckons with the possibility that prophecy can be used against the king. 12 That is, however, not a case of ‘false prophecy’, but prophecy that might be harmful to the crown prince or king. 13 Nissinen’s second example is a case of such a prophecy against the king, reported by Nabû-reḫtu-uṣur. 14 This official informs king Esarhaddon about a conspiracy in the city of Harran in which a certain Sasî was involved.15 Nabû-reḫtu-uṣur reports to the king a prophetic oracle that was delivered in favour of Sasî, “This is the word of Nusku: the kingship is for Sasî; I will destroy the name and the seed of Sennacherib”. 16 This is an example of a prophecy against the king, in favour of his adversaries.17 Nabû-reḫtu-uṣur does not picture it as a false prophecy, but as something potentially harmful. He takes the prophecy of Nusku very seriously, for he adds in his letter several other oracles supportive of Esarhaddon, in order to counter the harmful prophecy from Nusku.18 In both cases discussed by Nissinen, the point is not that the prophecies are false, but that they pose a threat to the king. Such prophecy SAA 2 6, lines 108–118. Translation from Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecies, 150–151. The terms raggimu, maḫḫû, and šā’ilu amat ili, denote prophetic 11

figures. 12 So also Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecies, 135. Furthermore, Nissinen, “Falsche Prophetie,” 178, “Die Propheten waren in der Lage, gegen den König im Namen einer göttlichen Autorität Aufruhr stiften zu können.” Since the king did not fully control the prophets, he needed to be informed about their words in order to root out any sign of disloyalty. 13 Contra Nissinen, “Falsche Prophetie,” 180. 14 Nissinen, “Falsche Prophetie,” 182–193. 15 M. Luuko and G. Van Buylaere, The Political Correspondence of Esarhaddon (SAA, 16; Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 2002), texts 59–61; Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecies, 170–175. For the historical background, see Nissinen, References to Prophecy in Neo-Assyrian Sources, 108–153. 16 Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecies, 171 (SAA 16 59 [ABL 1217 rev. 2’–5’]). 17 A similar case of a prophecy against the king is found in 2 Kgs 9:1–13, where a prophet proclaims to the military commander Jehu: “Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel: I anoint you king over the people of the LORD, over Israel. You shall strike down the house of your master Ahab” (2 Kgs 9:6b–7a, NRSV). 18 See De Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 271–275.

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was unwelcome from the perspective of the king, but the label ‘false prophecy’ was not used. People being in the midst of the events were simply not in the position to declare a prophecy false. People knew of course what they hoped for and what they wanted to hear, but they did not know for sure what the gods had in store. Human beings did not control the gods, and the king was no exception to this. 19 Therefore, instead of declaring unwanted prophecies false, the king obliged his officials to report whatever potentially harmful oracles they might hear of, so that the king could effectively deal with the matter. 20 When dealing with prophecy in Israel and Judah, one needs to distinguish between prophecy as a socio-historical phenomenon on the one hand, and the scribal depiction of prophecy in the biblical literature on the other. 21 It is likely that in monarchic Israel and Judah the prophetic repertoire included similar aspects as in the rest of the Near East, such as encouragement of king and people, announcements of the annihilation of 19 Note the words of Adad of Kallassu addressed to the king, in one of the prophecies reported in the Mari letters, “I – the Lord of the throne, territory and city – can take away what I have given!”; Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecies, 19. 20 There is one example of a diviner disqualifying his own performance of extispicy as a ‘fraud’ in a letter to king Esarhaddon (SAA 10 179). Kudurru, an expert in divination, writes how he against his will was involved in a conspiracy against the king. He was forced to perform a divination on the question “Will the rab ša rēšē take over the kingship?” Kudurru performed the divination, with a positive outcome. Since this – both the outcome and the query as such – was unacceptable to the king, Kudurru claims: “The extispicy [which I performed was] but a colossal fraud! (The only thing) [I was th]inking of (was), “May he not kill me.” [Now th]en I am writing to the king, lest [the king my lord] hear about it and kill me.” Translation from Parpola, Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars (SAA, 10; Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 1993),143, text 179 rev. 19’–23’. For the historical background, see Nissinen, References to Prophecy in Neo-Assyrian Sources, 133–135. The phrase ‘but a colossal fraud’ is a rendering of alla šāru meḫû, ‘nothing but wind and storm’. This terminology corresponds with the biblical qualification ‫שׁ ֶקר‬, ֶ ‘lie, trick, falsehood, false’. Kudurru, however, disqualifies his own performance as a fraud: he assures the king he formulated a positive answer to the query in order to save his life. 21 M. Nissinen, “How Prophecy became Literature,” SJOT 19 (2005), 156–157; M. Nissinen, “What is Prophecy? An Ancient Near Eastern Perspective,” in J. Kaltner and L. Stulman (eds.), Inspired Speech: Prophecy in the Ancient Near East, Essays in Honor of H.B. Huffmon (JSOTSup, 378; London: T&T Clark International, 2004), 31; R.G. Kratz, Die Propheten Israels (München: C.H. Beck, 2003), 50.

THE FALLACY OF ‘TRUE AND FALSE’ IN PROPHECY

281

the enemies, criticism of the king or the political leaders, and political direction. Furthermore, when prophets announced a disaster, they did not stand in opposition to the state, but functioned as guardians of the collective well-being: such predictions were revealed in order to be averted. If the threatening disaster foretold by a prophet was successfully averted, this did not make the prophecy ‘false’. Instead, the prophet had done a good job protecting the well-being of society. 22 The biblical prophetic books portray the (true) prophets as oppositional figures, who predicted the irrevocable downfall of their society. This portrayal is a product of later reflection on the disasters that befell Israel and Judah, as this article will argue. The biblical contrast between the prophets falsely prophesying peace and the figures truly prophesying Yahweh’s judgement, belongs to what may be called the afterward, to a later, scribal depiction of prophecy, and not to prophecy as a historical phenomenon. With regard to prophecy as a historical phenomenon, the dichotomy between true and false prophets is based on a fallacy. 23 This insight should play a role in the exegesis of biblical prophetic literature. The present article gives an illustration of this by focusing on Jer 28:8–9. That text is commonly interpreted from the dichotomy between (true) prophecy of judgement and (false) prophecy of salvation. The first part of this article (section 2) argues that this implies a forced reading of Jer 28:8–9, and that a more coherent reading is possible. The second part of this article (section 3) shows that Jer 28:8–9 plays a role in the early development of the traditions concerning the words and deeds of Jeremiah. The common view is that ‘irrevocable judgement on Judah’ was part of the original message of Jeremiah. However, there are good reasons for adopting the more critical view that these ‘prophecies’ originated after the downfall of Jerusalem as a kind of reflection on the past. 24 Within the book of Jeremiah, one can L.S. Tiemeyer, “Prophecy as a Way of Cancelling Prophecy – The Strategic Uses of Foreknowledge,” ZAW 117 (2005), 329–350; De Jong, “Biblical Prophecy – A Scribal Enterprise,” 49–50. For similar dealings with negative omens, see S. Maul, “How the Babylonians Protected Themselves against Calamities Announced by Omens,” in T. Abusch and K. van der Toorn (eds.), Mesopotamian Magic. Textual, Historical, and Interpretative Perspective (Styx: Groningen, 1999), 123– 129. 23 See M. Nissinen, “Die Relevanz der neuassyrischen Prophetie für das Studium des Alten Testaments,” in M. Dietrich and O. Loretz (eds.), Mesopotamica – Ugaritica – Biblica (AOAT, 232; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1993), 251, and De Jong, “Biblical Prophecy – A Scribal Enterprise,” 66. 24 For this view, e.g. Kratz, Die Propheten Israels, 53–86; K.-F. Pohlmann, 22

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detect early traditions that must have preceded the framework of sin and punishment that at a later stage became dominant. The earliest traditions found within the narrative materials relate to the issue how to deal with Babylonia (e.g. in Jeremiah 27–29* and 37–38*). Jeremiah, as we will see, played a role compatible to other ancient Near Eastern prophets. The later revision of the early traditions decisively re-shaped the ‘prophecies’ of Jeremiah, by interpreting the disasters as Yahweh’s punishment of the sins of Judah. Jer 28:8–9, as I will argue, belongs to an earlier stage of the traditions concerning Jeremiah, preceding the revision. It is an early commentary on the original message of Jeremiah, claiming that Jeremiah’s position, ‘submit to Babylonia in order to survive’, had been right. The article concludes with the general issue of ‘true versus false prophecy’ (section 4).

2. A NEW INTERPRETATION OF JER 28:8–9 2.1 THE STANDARD INTERPRETATION I will first describe the standard interpretation of Jer 28:8–9. In these verses, Jeremiah replies to the prophet Hananiah, according to the NIV: 8 From early times the prophets who preceded you and me have prophesied war, disaster and plague against many countries and great kingdoms. 9 But the prophet who prophesies peace will be recognized as one truly sent by the LORD only if his prediction comes true. 25

According to a full scholarly consensus,26 v. 8 refers to prophets who prophesy ‘doom’ and v. 9 to prophets who prophesy ‘peace’. Jeremiah, it is “Religion in der Krise – Krise einer Religion. Die Zerstörung des Jerusalemer Tempels 587 v. Chr.”, in J. Hahn (ed.), Zerstörungen des Jerusalemer Tempels. Geschehen – Wahrnehmung – Bewältigung (WUNT, 147; Tübingen: MohrSiebeck, 2002), 40–60; U. Becker, “Die Wiederentdeckung des Prophetenbuches. Tendenzen und Aufgaben der gegenwärtigen Prophetenforschung,” BTZ 21 (2004), 30–60; De Jong, “Biblical Prophecy – A Scribal Enterprise,” 39–70. 25 In the course of the discussion, I will criticize this rendering on two points, see notes 47 and 49. 26 The following titles are meant to be illustrative; many more could be mentioned. E.g. L.C. Allen, Jeremiah. A Commentary (OTL; Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1989), 316–317, R.P. Carroll, Jeremiah: A Commentary (OTL; London: SCM Press, 1986), 544–45; W. McKane, A Critical

and Exegetical Commentary on Jeremiah, Volume II. Commentary on Jeremiah

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283

held, belongs to the first category, whereas his opponent Hananiah belongs to the second. The passage authenticates prophecy of the first type and warns against prophecy of the second type. The argument for authenticating prophecy of doom in v. 8 is based on precedent: from time immemorial prophets have delivered this type of prophecy. As a prophet of doom, Jeremiah belongs to this reliable tradition. The argument against prophecy of peace in v. 9 is cast in the form of a warning against wishful thinking. Peaceful messages are attractive, but also deceptive. Therefore, people should wait and see whether the peace predicted really happens. If not, it was just another example of wishful thinking. Thus, Jeremiah claims authority for his own message of doom and warns the people of Judah against the message of peace delivered by Hananiah. Various scholars have expressed discomfort with this interpretation. 27 They point out that 28:8–9, as it is interpreted, is a rather poor argument on Jeremiah’s part. The claim that ‘prophecy of doom’ is supported by a tradition of centuries and therefore to be accepted on its own merit seems dubious. By Jeremiah’s time this type of prophecy did not have such a long tradition at all.28 And there is a further reason for scholarly unease: v. 8 refers to prophets of doom speaking ‘against many countries and great XXVI-LII (ICC; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996), 718–719, 723–725; G. Fischer, Jeremia 26–52 (HTKAT; Freiburg: Herder, 2005), 73–74; W.L. Holladay, A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah 2: Chapters 26–52 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1989), 127–129; J.R. Lundbom, Jeremiah 21–36 (AB, 21B; New York: Doubleday, 2004), 334–335; J. Blenkinsopp, A History of Prophecy in Israel (2nd ed; Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1996), 137;

H.-J. Hermisson, “Kriterien “wahrer” und “falscher” Prophetie im Alten Testament. Zur Auslegung von Jeremia 23,16-22 und Jeremia 28,8-9,” ZTK 92 (1995), 134–137; F.L. Hossfeld and I. Meyer, Prophet gegen Prophet. Eine Analyse der alttestamentlichen Texte zum Thema: Wahre und falsche Prophetie (Biblische Beiträge, 9; Fribourg:Schweizerisches Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1973), 96–99; G. Münderlein, Kriterien wahrer und falscher Prophetie. Entstehung und Bedeutung im Alten Testament (Europäische Hochschulschriften, series XXIII, Theology vol. 33; Frankfurt/M./Bern: Lang, 1974), 111; M. Leuchter, The Polemics of Exile in Jeremiah 26-45 (Cambridge: University Press, 2008), 44–46; J.T. Hibbard, “True and False Prophecy: Jeremiah’s Revision of Deuteronomy,” JSOT 35 (2011), 348. 27 Recently by R.W.L. Moberly, Prophecy and Discernment (Cambridge: University Press, 2006), 100–109. 28 Hermisson, “Kriterien,” 134–137, and McKane, Jeremiah II, 723–725, aim to solve this by taking v. 8–9 as a theological reflection from the exilic period. From this exilic point of view, all true prophecy of the past was prophecy of doom and none of the prophecies of peace had come true. However, this exegetical judgement does not solve the difficulties mentioned.

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kingdoms’. If this were taken literally, some scholars admit, Hananiah would be part of this tradition, since he predicts doom for Babylonia! 29 In my view, there is every reason to take verse 8 literally in this respect. Although scholars have admitted that the argument voiced by Jeremiah is strange, unexpected, and unconvincing, no one, as far as I see, has really questioned the common interpretation. This should be done, for Jer 28:8–9 does not say what the consensus assumes it to say.

2.2 TEXTUAL REMARKS ON JER 28:8–9 Several differences between the Hebrew text of MT and the Greek of the LXX (Göttingen Edition) of Jer 28:8–9 need to be briefly addressed. (1) In v. 8, the LXX has a plural πρότεροι ὑμῶν, ‘preceding [all of] you (pl.)’, but the singular of MT (�‫)וּל ָפנֶי‬ ְ probably is the more original reading.30 (2) For Hebrew ‫א ָרצוֹת ַרבּוֹת‬, ֲ ‘many/mighty countries’, the Greek has γῆς πολλῆς, ‘much land’, an unexpected phrase which ruins the parallel with ‘great kingdoms’. This is best explained as part of a wider (secondary) tendency in the Greek text to represent Hebrew ‫ ַרבּוֹת‬with the singular γῆ. MT represents the more original text. 31 (3) For LXX εἰς πόλεμον, ‘war’, MT has a longer reading ‫ְל ִמלְ ָח ָמה‬ ‫וּל ָר ָﬠה וּלְ ָד ֶבר‬, ְ ‘war, disaster, plague’. The reading of LXX is likely to be the original one. 32 The shorter reading ‘war’ better serves the contrast with ‘peace’ in v. 9, but the main argument is that in MT Jeremiah shorter depictions of terror are often extended to a threefold depiction, the common triad being ‘sword, hunger, plague’. By contrast, there are no other examples in LXX Jeremiah that can be explained as the reduction of a 814F

815F

816F

29 Münderlein, Kriterien wahrer und falscher Prophetie, 111, note 3. A. Graupner, Auftrag und Geschick des Propheten Jeremia. Literarische Eigenart, Herkunft und Intention vordeuteronomistischer Prosa im Jeremiabuch (BiblischTheologische Studien, 15; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1991), 74. 30 The plural forms, starting in v. 7, are likely to be an adaption ad sensum influenced by the reference to ‘all the people’ (v. 7). Instead of αὐτὸν in v. 9b part of the Greek tradition reads αὐτοῖς (Rahlfs’ Edition). This is not likely to be original (cf. Göttingen Edition). If the Vorlage had ‫יהם‬ ֶ ֵ‫( ֲﬠל‬to them, LXX Jeremiah would probably have rendered πρὸς αὐτούς, as elsewhere. Hebrew ‫ ְשׁ ָלחוֹ‬in Jeremiah is elsewhere rendered as ἀπέστειλεν αὐτὸν (19:14; 43:1 [LXX 50:1]), the reading αὐτοῖς is due to a later change. 31 H.-J. Stipp, Das masoretische und alexandrinische Sondergut des Jeremiabuches. Textgeschichtlicher Rang, Eigenarten, Triebkräfte (OBO, 136; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1994), 54–55. 32 See Stipp, Sondergut, 101; McKane, Jeremiah II, 712.

THE FALLACY OF ‘TRUE AND FALSE’ IN PROPHECY

285

threefold image to a single one. In other words, the longer reading in v. 8 MT looks similar to other extended passages, and the triad, ‘war, disaster, plague’, can be seen as a variant on the triad, ‘sword, hunger, plague’.33 This triad occurs fifteen times in MT Jeremiah, only four times in LXX Jeremiah. In some of the extra cases, ‘plague’ has been added, in order to extend the twofold depiction, ‘sword and hunger’, to the preferred triad. In other cases, the triad is part of later additions, not found in the edition as represented in LXX Jeremiah. 34 The original ‫ל ִמ ְל ָח ָמה‬,ְ in the mind of the editors invoked their favourite motif ‘sword, hunger, plague’, which they applied in a variant way. In what follows I will deal with this shorter, in my view original, reading. However, all that will be said applies to the longer reading just as well. (4) The difference in v. 9 between ‫‘ ְבּבֹא ְדּ ַבר ַהנָּ ִביא‬when the word of the prophet comes true’, and ἐλθόντος τοῦ λόγου ‘when his word comes true’, is not of great importance, as the sense is similar. One may either explain ‫ ַהנָּ ִביא‬as another expansion in the text of MT, 35 or judge it as a case of accidental omission in the version represented in LXX. The text can be translated as follows: “The prophets who preceded you and me from early times, prophesied war against mighty countries and great kingdoms. The prophet who prophesies peace —when his word comes true, it will be known that Yahweh truly sent that prophet.” 817F

81F

819F

2.3 INNER COHERENCE OF JER 28:8–9 The phrase ‫ל־מ ְמ ָלכוֹת גְּ ד ֹלוֹת‬ ַ ‫ל־א ָרצוֹת ַרבּוֹת וְ ַﬠ‬ ֲ ‫א‬,ֶ ‘against mighty countries and great kingdoms’ is a parallelism consisting of synonymous parts. 36 The combination ‫ ֲא ָרצוֹת ַרבּוֹת‬does not occur elsewhere. The usual collocation is ‫גּוֹיִם ַר ִבּים‬, which occurs often, both as ‘many nations’ (e.g. Mic 4:2; Hab 2:8) and ‘mighty nations’ (e.g. Ps 135:10; Jer 25:14; 27:7). The parallel between ‫ ַרבּוֹת‬and ‫ גְּ ד ֹלוֹת‬suggests that ‫ ֲא ָרצוֹת ַרבּוֹת‬may be read as ‘mighty countries’. The plural ‫ ֲא ָרצוֹת‬indicates an international scene, the world of the nations, 820F

For this argument I am indebted to Raymond de Hoop. Stipp, Sondergut, 101. 35 J.G. Janzen, Studies in the Text of Jeremiah (HSM, 6; Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University, 1973), 103, argues that since the expanded edition of MT in ch. 28 has added the word ‫ ַהנָּ ִביא‬11 times, this could well be the twelfth time. For the use of the term ‫ ַהנָּ ִביא‬in the respective versions of the book of Jeremiah, see M.J. de Jong, “Why Jeremiah is Not Among the Prophets: An Analysis of the Terms ‫ נָ ִביא‬and ‫יאים‬ ִ ‫ נְ ִב‬in the Book of Jeremiah,” JSOT 35 (2011), 483–510, here 488–490. 36 The prepositions ‫ ֶאל‬and ‫ ַﬠל‬in Jeremiah are used interchangeably and synonymously; G. Fischer, Jeremia 1–25 (HTKAT; Freiburg: Herder, 2005), 51. 33 34

286

MATTHIJS J. DE JONG

and points to foreign countries. The combination ‫ ַמ ְמ ָלכוֹת גְּ ד ֹלוֹת‬does not occur elsewhere either, but its meaning is clear: ‘great kingdoms’. The whole phrase refers to the mighty countries and kingdoms that exist in the world. Important to note, the subject in v. 8 is a plural, ‘the prophets’. The verse gives a summarizing view of the prophecies that have been delivered from time immemorial, and presents the prophets as prophesying against many countries and kingdoms. This does not imply that each prophet individually prophesied against many foreign nations, but it gives an overview, the sum of a long history of prophetic activity, during which prophets prophesied against lands and kingdoms that were powerful in a particular period. Individual prophets prophesied against particular powerful countries or kingdoms. The prophecies against the many foreign countries and kingdoms are summarized by the word ‫מ ְל ָח ָמה‬, ִ war: ‘they prophesied (‫ נבא‬ni.) war (‫’)ל ִמ ְל ָח ָמה‬. ְ The preposition ‫ ְל‬is used to refer to the content of their prophecies without actually citing them. 37 Here ‫ ִמ ְל ָח ָמה‬functions as the shortest possible description of bad fortune, disaster, destruction, loss of power, military defeat, etc. 38 Prophesying ‘war’ against a mighty country of kingdom is not a neutral forecast of future events, but reveals a divine decision that will be carried out by divine force. 39 To prophesy ‘war’ against a mighty kingdom is to declare that God has decided to ruin that kingdom. The implication in v. 8 is ‘and so it happened’. Not only did prophets prophesy against mighty kingdoms, but the ‘war’ they predicted really occurred. In the past, many countries and powerful nations have been ruined by Yahweh’s intervention. 40 Verse 9 is phrased as a parallel to v. 8, but the use of the singular ‫ ַהנָּ ִביא‬shows that it is not an exact parallel. The connection between the two sentences is not one of two parallel cases, but after v. 8 has described the ‘norm’, the way it has gone for centuries, v. 9 presents the exception. The fact that the same term is used for ‘the prophet(s)’ in v. 8 and v. 9 without any mark of distinction, warns against a strong contrastive reading of these two verses. The passage does not deal with two different 821F

82F

823F

824F

37 For the phrase with ‫ל‬, ְ cf. 2 Chr 18:17, with ‫( נבא‬hitp.) with ‫ל ָרע‬,ְ ‘to prophesy evil’ ( ְ‫ ל‬as indicator of the direct object). 38 The choice of the longer reading in v. 8, ‘war, disaster, plague’ does not alter the picture. 39 Nissinen, “Prophecy and Omen Divination” 345. 40 A similar overview is implied in 1 Sam 10:18, “I delivered you from the power of Egypt and all the kingdoms that oppressed you.” For the motif of the foreign nations as enemies to be saved from by Yahweh, see e.g. Ps 46:7, 79:6, Jer 51:20, Hag 2:22, and see section 3.2 below.

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types of prophets, but it deals with the diverse content of the prophetic message. In contrast to ‫ ְל ִמ ְל ָח ָמה‬in v. 8 is ‫ ְל ָשׁלוֹם‬in v. 9; the prophet pictured in v. 9 prophesies ‘peace’ instead of ‘war’. Just as in v. 8, ‫ְל ָשׁלוֹם‬ depicts the content of the prophecy without actually citing it. But peace for whom? The answer is implied by v. 8, which refers to ‘mighty countries and great kingdoms’. One difference between the two verses however must be taken into account. Whereas v. 8 presents an overview of a long history of prophecy, v. 9 brings in the example of a single prophet. His message of peace does not relate to countries and kingdoms in general, but specifically to a particular country or kingdom. Just as the prophets of v. 8 did, the prophet of v. 9 deals with a particular nation or kingdom, but instead of ‘war’ he proclaims ‘peace’ for that kingdom. The logic of verses 8–9 is clear: For centuries there have been prophets proclaiming the violent downfall of many great countries and powerful kingdoms, and it happened as they proclaimed. Now suppose a prophet comes along who proclaims something different with regard to a powerful kingdom: not its downfall, but its great success. Verse 9b states how to deal with that (apparently exceptional) situation: ‘when his word comes true, it will be known that Yahweh truly sent that prophet.’ The Hebrew ‫ ְבּבֹא‬must not be taken as a condition, as is almost always done. Instead, it introduces a temporal clause, ‘when it comes true’. 41 This means that the phrase does not denote a criterion to be fulfilled, but introduces a hypothetical case: ‘Suppose there is the prophet who prophesies peace (for a certain powerful kingdom), when his word comes true …’. The emphasis of the sentence is on what follows: ‘then it will be known that Yahweh truly sent that prophet.’ The final clause forms the climax. This leads to the following interpretation: Prophets, when dealing with foreign powers, usually predicted their bad fortune. Suppose, however, the case of a prophet proclaiming good fortune for a certain foreign kingdom. When the prediction comes true, it is clear that this prophet truly has been divinely commissioned. The passage first depicts the normal prophetic practice, and then introduces an exceptional case. The exception does not have to do with an unusual type of prophet, but with a prophet delivering an unusual message. When the prediction comes true, it must be acknowledged that this prophet truly delivered a divine message. 825F

41 E.g. P. Joüon, S.J. and T. Muraoka, A Grammar of Biblical Hebrew. Vol. II (Subsidia Biblica, 14/II; Rome: Editrice Pontificio Istituto Biblico, 1991), §166 l; E.S. Jenni, Die Präposition Beth (Die hebräische Präpositionen, 1; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1992), 316–327.

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2.4 NO DEPENDENCE ON DEUT 18:21–22 It is often assumed that Jer 28:9 is dependent on Deut 18:21–22, 42 an assumption triggered by the standard interpretation of Jer 28:9. Read as a reference to (false) prophecy of peace and the criterion to falsify it, it is attractive to connect this verse with the criterion given in Deut 18:21–22 on how to identify false prophecies. However, as argued above, v. 9 does not deal with false prophecy, nor with a criterion for judging whether or not a prophet has been divinely commissioned. The parallel with Deut 18:21–22 is therefore much less evident than usually assumed.43 The number of words shared by Deut 18:20–21 and Jer 28:9 is not so impressive (‫ ַהנָּ ִביא‬the prophet; ‫ ָדּ ָבר‬the word, i.e., the oracle; ‫ בוא‬to happen, come true; ‫ ידע‬to know), and, more importantly, these words are used in profoundly different ways. In Deut 18:21–22, ‫ ָדּ ָבר‬is the keyword used three times with the definite article and in an absolute sense. Its importance is supported by the use of the verb ‫( דבר‬pi.) occurring four times. In Jer 28:9 ‫ ָדּ ָבר‬is not used in an absolute sense and it is not a key term. For the act of prophesying not ‫( דבר‬pi.) is used, but ‫( נבא‬ni.), a term not found in Deuteronomy. In Deut 18:22, the conclusion of non-fulfilment is stated strongly with a double phrase (‫א־יִהיֶה ַה ָדּ ָבר וְ לֹא יָבוֹא‬ ְ ֹ ‫ )וְ ל‬because it is the essence of the answer to the question of v. 21. In Jer 28:9, the formulation is more casual, and, importantly, positively stated: ‘when the word of the prophet comes true’ (‫)בּבֹא ְדּ ַבר ַהנָּ ִביא‬. ְ This is neither a conclusion of non-fulfilment, as in Deut 18:22, nor part of a criterion to identify a false prophecy. In 28:9, the phrase ‘when the word of the prophet comes true’, prepares for the climax of the sentence: then that prophet must be recognized as having been truly sent by Yahweh. Deut 18:21–22 deals with a criterion on how to recognize a prophecy not spoken by Yahweh, but Jer 28:9 deals with a case in which a certain prophet is, in the end, known to be truly divinely commissioned. The shared terms are used in profoundly different ways. A further difference must be taken into account. In the climax of 28:9, ‘that Yahweh has truly sent him’ (‫)שׁלָ חוֹ יהוה ֶבּ ֱא ֶמת‬, ְ the term ‫ שׁלח‬is used for the divine commissioning of a prophet. The term is not used in this way in Deuteronomy, nor is divine commissioning an issue in Deuteronomy 18. The same holds for the qualification ‫בּ ֱא ֶמת‬, ֶ ‘truly’, which E.g. Hibbard, “True and False Prophecy,” 339–358, esp. 346–347. Various scholars have doubted the alleged dependence of Jer 28:9 on Deut 18:20–22, e.g. C.J. Sharp, Prophecy and Ideology in Jeremiah: Struggles for Authority in the Deutero-Jeremianic Prose (Old Testament Studies; London / New York: T&T Clark, 2003), 152–153; Graupner, Auftrag und Geschick, 66–67. 42 43

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does not occur in Deuteronomy. In Jer 28:9 it plays an important role: a prophet apparently treated with disbelief is in the end to be acknowledged to have been truly sent by Yahweh. The issue in Deut 18:21–22 is how to recognize words spoken in the name of Yahweh that nevertheless have not been spoken by him. Such words ‘do not come true’, and thus they are recognized to be spoken ‘presumptuously’; the prophet who spoke them must not be feared or revered. 44 Jer 28:9 deals with a completely different issue. It presents a hypothetic scenario of a prophet who delivers a surprising, perhaps unwelcome, message. When his message does come true, it must be admitted that Yahweh truly sent him. The two texts deal with different issues and their resemblance is only superficial.45 There is no support for the assumption that Jer 28:9 is dependent on Deut 28:21–22. The assumption is merely based on the (wrong) application of the concept of ‘true versus false prophecy’ to Jer 28:8–9.

2.5 REFUTATION OF THE STANDARD INTERPRETATION Scholars usually summarize v. 8 as ‘prophesying doom’ and v. 9 as ‘prophesying peace’, and interpret these verses through the stereotypes of ‘true’ (prophecy of doom) and ‘false’ (prophecy of peace), thereby neglecting the question, ‘doom and peace for whom?’ Building on the 44 Some have argued that Deut 18:21–22 only deals with prophecies of doom, since only prophecy of doom is something to be ‘feared’, and that Jer 28:9 then reapplies, or broadens, the criterion of Deut 18:21–22 to ‘prophecy of peace’ (so e.g. Hibbard, “True and False Prophecy,” 348–349; Hossfeld and Meyer, Prophet gegen Prophet, 97). However, the phrase ‘do not fear him’ does not imply that the criterion only deals with prophecy of doom. The verb ‫ גוּר‬denotes the right attitude towards God and to persons speaking divine words (‘to fear, to revere, to stand in awe’). The phrase is to be taken as ‘do not be afraid of him’, i.e., the prophet, rather than ‘do not be frightened by it’, i.e., the word the prophet spoke. The combination of ‫ גוּר‬with preposition ‫ ִמן‬and object suffix also occurs in Ps 22:24 and 33:8, where, applied to God, it means ‘revere him’, ‘stand in awe of him’. 45 The punishment of Hananiah in 28:15–17 does not invoke the criterion of Deut 18:21–22. The punishment, death within some months, is not compatible with the wait-and-see criterion which would have required two years of waiting; so rightly Hibbart, “True and False Prophecy,” 347; McKane Jeremiah II, 719–720. Jer 28:16 (and 29:32) MT contains a phrase taken from Deut 13:6, but that does not draw 28:8–9 any closer to Deut 18:21–22. This phrase, missing in LXX, is part of the late expansions to the text of Jeremiah as found in MT Jeremiah, see Stipp, Sondergut, 105–106.

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preceding sections, I will list six arguments to show that the standard interpretation cannot be right. (1) 28:8–9 does not present a contrast between two types of prophets: ‫ ַהנָּ ִביא‬in v. 9 is a representative of the category of ‫יאים‬ ִ ‫ ַהנְּ ִב‬of v. 8. 46 Furthermore, the text does not deal with a criterion for distinguishing between true and false prophecy. It does not refer to false prophecy at all. V. 8 claims that the prophets from time immemorial have proclaimed ‘war’ against foreign powers, suggesting that such prophetic messages were common practice. The implication is that such messages of ‘war’ against foreign powers have come true. V. 9 deals with the proper reaction in the (apparently unexpected) case a message of ‘peace’ concerning a foreign power coming true. When this would happen, it had to be accepted that Yahweh had truly sent that prophet. (2) V. 8 speaks of ‘prophesying war against mighty countries and great kingdoms’. This is not how Jeremiah is depicted in chs. 27–28. In ch. 28, he is rebuked by Hananiah for warning the people that Babylonia will prosper and remain powerful (see ch. 27). (3) V. 8 cannot be a depiction of true prophets of judgement, for this kind of prophecy did not exist ‘from time immemorial’. This type of prophecy, according to the traditional view, originated in the eighth century BCE. (According to a more critical view, it originated after the downfall of Samaria and Jerusalem as a kind of reflection on the past). 47 It did not exist ‘from time immemorial’. Moreover, the ‘war’ here relates to foreign nations. Usually, this problem is ‘solved’ by pointing to the ‘oracles against the nations’ that are part of the prophetic collections ascribed to the classical prophets. However, these oracles are not what characterizes the ‘classical prophets’ in the first place, and certainly not what characterizes them in contrast to the ‘false prophets of peace’. To read v. 8 as a depiction of the ‘true prophets of judgement’, is a forced reading. (4) To identify the ‫ ָשׁלוֹם‬of 28:9 with the ‫ ָשׁלוֹם‬proclaimed by the lying prophets referred to in Jer 14:13 (cf. 6:14, 8:11, 23:17), is against the logic of ch. 28. The parallel with v. 8 strongly suggests that the message of peace here relates to a foreign nation (see section 2.3). Furthermore, v. 9 prescribes the proper reaction should the message of peace come true. By contrast, the texts dealing with the deceptive prophets simply state that they were not sent by Yahweh and that their messages were lies. 830F

831F

46 The rendering of the NIV, cited above, enforces this (wrong) interpretation by commencing v. 9 with ‘But’. 47 See literature mentioned in note 24.

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(5) V. 9 is not a condition that is not fulfilled. Although it is often rendered that way, this is not warranted by the Hebrew clause. 48 Of course, the alleged dependence of Jer 28:9 on Deut 18:20–22, ostensibly sanctifies this reading, but dependence on Deut 18:21–22 is quite unlikely (section 2.4). There is nothing that justifies reading v. 9 as a condition that is not fulfilled. (6) The final clause of v. 9 once more shows that the common view cannot be right. What is known about the prophet is, in the end, ‘that Yahweh truly sent him’. The end-result is formulated explicitly by ‫בּ ֱא ֶמת‬, ֶ ‘truly’ sent. 49 It is highly unlikely that the whole verse is meant negatively, i.e., that in the end this prophet is unmasked as a deceiver, who is not sent by Yahweh. The qualification ‫ ֶבּ ֱא ֶמת‬implies that the verse unfolds a positive scenario: in the end it must be conceded that this prophet was truly sent. There is a clear difference between the concessive statement ‘Yahweh truly sent him’, and the frequently attested motif with regard to the deceiving prophets, ‘I have not sent them’, in Jer 14:14–15, 23:21, 32, 27:15, 28:15, 29:9, 31. Jer 28:8–9, to conclude, does not deal with the stereotype of true prophecy of judgement and false prophecy of peace. The proclamation that a foreign kingdom will collapse or be destroyed (the kind of proclamation referred to in 28:8) is not what is usually understood by ‘prophecy of judgement’; and the proclamation that a foreign kingdom will enjoy a peaceful time (the kind of proclamation referred to in 28:9) is not what is usually understood by ‘prophecy of peace’. 83F

3. JER 28:8–9 AS PART OF THE DEVELOPING JEREMIAH TRADITION 3.1 JER 28:8–9 IN THE CONTEXT OF JER 27–29 This section shows that my interpretation of 28:8–9 fits the wider context of Jeremiah 27–29. V. 8 claims that prophetic predictions of war against foreign powers were a common practice. 50 Examples of such prophecies can be found, for instance, in the earliest parts of Isaiah. Isaiah delivered 834F

48 See note 41. The NIV, cited above, enforces this (wrong) interpretation, by rendering Hebrew ‫‘( ְבּבֹא‬when it comes true’), as ‘only if (his prediction) comes true’. 49 For the adverbial use of ‫ב‬, ְ Jenni, Die Präposition Beth, 335. 50 Section 3.2 will show that such messages were part of the prophetic repertoire from time immemorial.

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messages in which the imminent downfall of Judah’s enemies, Israel and Aram, was foretold (e.g. Isa 7:4–9a, 7:14b.16, 8:1–4), and he furthermore proclaimed that the power of Assyria would be broken (e.g. Isa 10:5–15).51 Besides, various prophecies attributed to Isaiah (probably creations from the late seventh century, when the decline of Assyria took place) proclaim the downfall of the great kingdom of Assyria (e.g. Isa 10:16–19, 14:24–25, 30:27–33, 31:8–9). 52 For example, Assyria’s violent destruction is proclaimed in Isa 14:24–25: The LORD Almighty has sworn, “Surely, as I have planned, so it will be, and as I have purposed, so it will stand. 25 I will crush the Assyrian in my land; on my mountains I will trample him down. His yoke will be taken from my people, and his burden removed from their shoulders.” 53

24

These prophecies of ‘war’ against Assyria—some of them genuine oracles, others being later, literary imitations—were popular during the time of Assyria’s decline and fall. The oracle of Hananiah, dealing with the downfall of Babylonia (28:2–4,11), looks remarkably similar to these prophecies. It proclaims Judah’s good fortune by foretelling the misfortune of Babylonia. Hananiah announces that Yahweh will cause the downfall of Babylonia and break its power: “Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel: I have broken the yoke of the king of Babylon.” This is a clear example of a prophecy of ‘war’ against a mighty kingdom. The phenomenon described in 28:8 thus matches Hananiah as he is depicted in the same chapter. Jer 28:9 deals with a prophet predicting peace with regard to a foreign kingdom. This does not apply to any of the so-called false prophets as pictured in the book of Jeremiah. None of them prophesies peace with regard to a foreign power. The only one who does so is Jeremiah himself, at first in his message as recorded in chs. 27–28*, e.g. 27:11: “Any nation that will bring its neck under the yoke of the king of Babylon and serve him, I will leave on its own land, says the LORD, to till it and live there.” This message points out that survival depends on accepting Babylonia’s supremacy, which implies that Babylonia will prosper and remain in power. Furthermore, Jeremiah deals with the good fortune of Babylonia in his letter to the Judeans in Babylonia, 29:5–7: 51 De Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 58–73, 126–136, 193–210, 217–219. 52 De Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 160–170, 375– 378. 53 Quotation from NIV.

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Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage.54 Multiply there, and do not decrease. Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare (‫לוֹמהּ יִ ְהיֶ ה ָל ֶכם ָשׁלוֹם‬ ָ ‫) ִכּי ִב ְשׁ‬. 83F

Considering how Jeremiah is depicted in chs. 27–29, the description of 28:9 clearly applies to him. Hananiah and other prophets proclaiming the imminent downfall of Babylonia, propagated rebellion against Babylonia and announced the return of the Judeans from their exile. Jeremiah prophesied the opposite. He prophesied that Babylonia’s hegemony would not end soon and that the survival of Judah and her neighbour states depended on accepting the Babylonian yoke. Furthermore he admonished the Judean exiles to seek Babylonia’s welfare, for ‘in her ‫ ָשׁלוֹם‬will be for you ‫’שׁלוֹם‬ ָ (29:7).

3.2 THE AGE-OLD PHENOMENON DESCRIBED IN JER 28:8 Jer 28:8 defines a common practice of prophets proclaiming the downfall of foreign powers. Generally speaking, this is indeed what prophets had done from time immemorial. The earliest prophetic oracles that we know of, found in the Mari letters from the 18th century BCE, contain predictions of ‘war’ against other nations and kingdoms. For instance, in a letter addressed to king Zimri-Lim comes the prophecy: “Hammurabi, king of Kurdâ (…). Your hand will [capture him] and in [his] land you will promu[lgate] an edict of restoration.” 55 Another letter to Zimri-Lim reports a prophecy concerning Babylon: “Babylon, what are you constantly doing? I will gather you into a net and … The dwellings of the seven accomplices and all their wealth I give into the hand of Zimri-L[im].” 56 These predictions concerning other countries and kingdoms serve to benefit the recipient of the oracles, in this case, king Zimri-Lim of Mari. The oracles deal with the enemies of the recipient. This kind of divine announcement—‘I will defeat your enemy’—has been part of the prophetic repertoire from time immemorial. Such announcements are an important motif in the oracles for the Assyrian kings Esarhaddon and Assurbanipal too. The promise of the god(ess) to annihilate the enemies of the king is found in many of the extant 839F

840F

54 The phrase “that they may bear sons and daughters” (missing in Jeremiah LXX) is likely to be an expansion of MT Jeremiah; see Graupner, Auftrag und Geschick, 80. 55 Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecies, 24–25 (ARM 26 194). 56 Nissinen, Prophets and Prophecies, 44 (ARM 26 209).

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oracles, and a series of countries and kingdoms are mentioned by name, such as Elam, Egypt, Mannea, Melid, the Cimmerians, and the land of Ellipi. 57 This same kind of prophetic announcement—‘I will defeat your enemies’, or ‘I will protect you against your enemies’—was well-known in ancient Israel and Judah, in particular in the monarchic period. Examples from the book of Isaiah, mentioned above (section 3.1), deal with the imminent downfall of Judah’s enemies Israel and Aram, and proclaim that Assyria’s rule will be broken. The biblical tradition contains many examples of military defeat of enemies and of Yahweh’s saving intervention, and in several of these texts we find prophetic announcements, or at least prophetic involvement (e.g. Exod 15:20–21, Judg 5, 1 Kgs 20:13, 22:6, 12, 2 Kgs 3:16–19, 14:25–28, 19:6–7). 58 Moreover, texts with a royal outlook, such as 2 Samuel 7 (v. 9) and Psalms 2 and 110, contain clear echoes of this kind of prophetic announcements. 59 The divine promise of ‘war’ against foreign nations was part of what is usually called ‘cultic prophecy’. 60 Instead of using the term cultic prophecy, I would simply call it prophecy, since in historical terms prophecy was always someway related to cult. Acting as the mouthpiece of a deity implies taking on a cultic role, although this role could be very well performed outside the temple. 61 An example of the same kind of prophetic announcement, from a later period, is found in Hag 2:20–22: 20 The word of the LORD came to Haggai …: 21 “Tell Zerubbabel governor of Judah that I will shake the heavens and the earth. 22 I will overturn royal thrones and shatter the power of the foreign kingdoms. I will overthrow chariots and their drivers; horses and their riders will fall, each by the sword of his brother.

57

The materials from seventh-century Assyria are brought together in Nissinen,

Prophets and Prophecy, 97–177. See also Nissinen, “Das kritische Potential,” 23– 24.

58 See further De Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 334– 335, with note 253 (for Exod 15:20–21 and Judg 5) and 343, with note 313 (for the passages from 1 en 2 Kings). 59 See J.W. Hilber, Cultic Prophecy in the Psalms (BZAW, 352; Berlin / New York: De Gruyter, 2005), 43, 76–101. 60 For a recent survey on ‘cultic prophecy’, see Hilber, Cultic Prophecy in the Psalms. 61 Cf. De Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 294–298, 334–337.

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To sum up, these oracles had a long tradition in Israel and Judah, as they had in the rest of the ancient Near East. 62 They were mostly addressed to the king, but the people were involved as well, not only because the oracles usually were publicly delivered, but also because the whole nation shared in the good fortune announced to the king. The prophets referred to in Jer 28:8 are thus prophets such as Isaiah,63 the anonymous figures behind the ‘cultic prophecy’ in the Psalms, and the prophets that occasionally appear in the historical books in the context of wars and conflicts. The nations against which they announced ‘war’, were enemy nations—Aram, Moab, Israel, Assyria, etc.—that at those particular moments posed a threat against the recipient(s) of the oracle. The encouraging, supportive prophecy in which the announcement of destruction of the enemy occupied a natural place, was in accordance with the state ideology of monarchic Judah. It was strongly believed that Yahweh would protect the king of his choice, his abode, and his people, against the threat of any foreign nation. For this reason, oracles proclaiming the good fortune of the king and the people often contained predictions of bad fortune, ‘war’, for any foreign nation that happened to threaten Yahweh’s abode. Prophecy of doom and prophecy of salvation were not two different phenomena. 64 Proclamations of the destruction of the enemy—messages of ‘war’ against enemy nations—were a common element in oracles of encouragement. Yahweh’s promises of good fortune for the Davidic king and the people of Judah went hand in hand with his promises to destroy nations or kingdoms threatening them. The misfortune of the one implied good fortune for the other. This is the case in Jer 28 as well: the misfortune of Babylonia, foretold by Hananiah, implies a turn for the good for the people of Judah. Proclamations of war and destruction simply were part of (encouraging) prophecy. This furthermore shows that the term ‘peace prophecy’ is not an adequate label. The vital question is peace (or war) for whom? The case of 28:8 is clear: announcing the misfortune and destruction of enemy countries and kingdoms was part of the common prophetic practice. Such prophetic statements were part of oracles that supported king and nation by M. Weippert, “‘Ich bin Jahwe’ – ‘Ich bin Ishtar von Arbela’: Deuterojesaja im Lichte der neuassyrischen Prophetie,” in B. Huwyler et al. (eds.), Prophetie und Psalmen: Festschrift für K. Seybold (AOAT, 280; Münster: Ugarit Verlag, 2001), 31–59. 63 For a view on the historical Isaiah, see De Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 345–351. 64 De Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 311–313. 62

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promising divine help against the enemies. This was the kind of oracle Hananiah delivered in 28:2–4, 11.

3.3 TWO LAYERS IN JER 27–29 It has been observed that Jeremiah’s reaction to Hananiah in 28:6–9 is profoundly different from the assault on Hananiah as prophesying falsely in 28:15–17. This observation will be worked out in the present section. Jeremiah’s reaction to Hananiah’s oracle in 28:6–9 is surprisingly mild and subtle. First, he declares his hope that Yahweh makes Hananiah’s words come true, “Amen! May the LORD do so!” (v. 6), after which he apparently sheds doubt on whether this hope will be realized: “Listen however to this word …” (v. 7). Then follow the two verses we have analyzed. By introducing the ‘common practice’ in v. 8, applying to Hananiah’s oracle, Jeremiah concedes that what Hananiah proclaimed is neither unusual nor unacceptable. It would be the best thing to happen! V. 9 however makes clear why this will nevertheless not happen, by pointing to the exception: this time, the unwelcome message is the one that will come true. Babylonia will not fall down, but remain powerful. Babylonia will prosper, and Judah’s well-being depends on accepting this. Jeremiah’s answer to Hananiah can be paraphrased in this way: Of course, the best thing to happen would be the violent downfall of Babylonia, the return of the temple vessels and the exiled Judeans, and the regaining of political autonomy. True, the prophets of old have often proclaimed Judah’s salvation in similar terms, and Yahweh has often rescued his people from the hands of powerful enemies. But our situation is different, for Yahweh has decided for Babylonia not its downfall but its good fortune. The defence of Jeremiah’s prophecy in 28:6–9 does not present a simple picture. It is conceded that Hananiah’s prophecy accords with normal practice and that the ruination of Babylonia would indeed be the best thing to happen. Only, as v. 9 adds, the situation is different, and in the end this will be known to all. In the final part of chapter 28, by contrast, Hananiah is simply accused of prophesying falsely without being divinely commissioned. He will be punished for this by dying within a few months’ time, which is what happens (28:15–17). This assault on Hananiah, presenting a simple, black-and-white picture, is incompatible with 28:6–9.65 It leaves far behind the subtle argument of 28:8–9, and presents another, much more rigorous, criticism. This motif of the deceiving prophets— prophets who without being divinely commissioned prophesy falsely and make the people trust in lies, and who will therefore be punished by 65

Noticed by McKane, Jeremiah II, 719–720.

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Yahweh—occurs throughout chs. 27–29, in 27:9–10, 14–17; 28:15–17, 29:8–9, 15, 21–23, 31–32 (cf. 20:6). Scholars have pointed out that these passages on the motif of false prophecy belong to a later literary layer that elaborated on the earlier traditions in these chapters. 66 In ch. 28, the later motif overrules the more subtle argument of 28:8–9. It presents a blackand-white picture of Jeremiah speaking the truth and of Hananiah as a deceiver who is rightly punished for his lies. It is clear, therefore, that 28:8– 9 must have preceded 28:15–17. It must have been part of a nucleus of ch. 28 to which v. 15–17 was added at a later stage.67 This suggestion will be worked out in sections 3.4 and 3.5.

3.4 THE MESSAGE OF JEREMIAH Verse 9 introduces in hypothetical terms the case of a prophet who predicts the opposite of what prophets usually proclaim. Suppose his message were to come true, then people must acknowledge that this prophet was sent by Yahweh. This refers to Jeremiah and it intends to argue that Jeremiah was truly sent by Yahweh. Jeremiah announced not Babylonia’s downfall but its prosperity. Prophetic oracles revealed divine decisions which implied that the deity had taken sides. The proclamation of ‫ ָשׁלוֹם‬for Babylonia was thus presented as Yahweh’s decision, revealed by Jeremiah. Jeremiah announced Yahweh’s decision that Babylonia would stay in power, would enjoy ‘peace’, and that Judah’s well-being would depend on accepting Babylonia’s supremacy. An oracle in which Yahweh proclaimed Babylonia’s well-being and success, probably was not what the people of Judah expected. Babylonia formed a threat to Judah’s political existence. It had taken away much of Judah’s autonomy; it had exiled its king and part of the upper class in 598 BCE, and remained a severe military threat. Although not everyone in Judah considered revolt a good strategy, the promise of well-being of this superpower was an unwelcome message. From the perspective of many Judeans, Babylonia was the enemy. Yet, however unwelcome this message may have been, from a divinatory point of view, it served the same goal as that of Hananiah’s competing message: to secure Judah’s prosperity and well-being. Whereas Hananiah propagated ‘survival through resistance’, Graupner, Auftrag und Geschick, 73–75, 82–83; McKane, Jeremiah II, 702– 703, 724–725. 67 Cf. McKane, Jeremiah II, 723–725. I do not argue that 28:6–7 was part of this nucleus too. It seems more likely that these verses originated during a later stage of development, when the polemics against the deceiving prophets and the motif of the temple vessels became part of chs. 27–29. They function as a bridge between the earlier and the later material. 66

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Jeremiah propagated ‘survival through submission’. Both of them did what divination generally aimed at: to reveal the divine decrees in order to provide those in charge with the information needed to make the right decision for the benefit of all. 68 Although many Judeans at that time hoped that Yahweh would plan evil for Babylonia, Jeremiah revealed a different scenario: Babylonia would flourish. This may have been unwelcome news, especially for those Judeans favouring rebellion, but it certainly was not meant as ‘doom’ for Judah. On the contrary, the revelation of Babylonia’s good fortune aimed to provide the Judean people, the political leaders in particular, with the information needed to take the right decision: to submit to Babylonia’s hegemony. Jeremiah’s message implied that Judah’s survival and well-being depended on accepting Babylonia’s rule. Moreover, it implied that submission to Babylonia was in accordance with Yahweh’s will. The announcement of Babylonia’s good fortune was not a prophecy of doom for Judah, but aimed to serve Judah’s well-being. It pointed out how Judah was to survive. Sacrificing political autonomy and accepting the terms of a foreign kingdom clashed with the beliefs of the state ideology. To take such a step required Yahweh’s consent, and this is what Jeremiah’s oracles gave. Prophetic announcements were relevant for a particular situation. The announcement of Babylonia’s good fortune, delivered by Jeremiah, did not intend to express that Babylonia’s power would last forever. However, whether the Babylonians would prosper for five years, or ten, or still more, was not the point of the prophecy. The point was that at that particular time, Yahweh wanted Judah to accept Babylonia’s rule and not to reject it and start a revolt. It was not the number of years Babylonia prospered that proved Jeremiah’s message right, but the failure of Zedekiah’s politics of resistance. The earliest traditions concerning Jeremiah, found in e.g. chs. 27–29* and 37–38*,69 indicate that Jeremiah’s oracles aimed to secure Judah’s wellbeing. 70 The early traditions in chs. 27–29 contain the message of Jeremiah and the reaction to this by his contemporaries; a nucleus of these chapters 68 J. Sweek, “Inquiring for the State in the Ancient Near East: Delineating Political Location,” in L. Ciraolo and J. Seidel (eds.), Magic and Divination in the Ancient World (Ancient Magic and Divination, II; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2002), 44. 69 For a survey of the early Jeremiah traditions, see C.R. Seitz, Theology in Conflict: Reactions to the Exile in the Book of Jeremiah (BZAW, 176; Berlin: De Gruyter, 1989), 208–214, 238–241, 272–273. 70 I deal with the early Jeremiah traditions more comprehensively in M.J. de Jong, “Prophecy in Politics and Literature. Examples from The Royal Archives of Assyria, Herodotus, and the Book of Jeremiah,” forthcoming.

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may have consisted of 27:2–4.11, 28:2–4*.11, 13–15* and 29:1.3–7*, 25– 28*.71 First, we hear Jeremiah’s message not to revolt against Babylonia, symbolically acted out by the yoke he put on himself (27:2–4, 11). After this follows a violent reaction by Hananiah, who delivers a message sharply opposing that of Jeremiah, supporting this by breaking the yoke Jeremiah is bearing. To this, Jeremiah presents a counter-message (28:2–4*.11; 28:13– 15*). Next, we hear about Jeremiah’s message to the exiles in Babylonia, followed by a furious reaction from Shemaiah (29:1.3–7, 25–28*). These early traditions form a coherent whole. Jeremiah, in word and deed, announces that Babylonia will prosper and stay in power, that the chances of survival for Judah depend on accepting Babylonia’s supremacy, and that the well-being of the exiles depends on Babylonia’s well-being. The reaction to his message is a hostile one: Hananiah violently breaks his yoke and presents a counter-message and Shemaiah writes a furious response. The traditions in chs. 27–29* match with those preserved within chs. 37–38*. The earliest parts, 37:11–21 and 38:14–28,72 dealing with the final stage of Judah’s monarchy, depict Jeremiah announcing that surrender to the Babylonians would lead to survival. During the revolt of Zedekiah, Jeremiah once more urged the king and the political leaders to surrender to the Babylonians in order to stay alive. Again, his message was rejected. Significantly, 37:11–21 contains a depiction of the prophetic scene that is very similar to that of 28:8–9. In 37:19, Jeremiah critically addresses Zedekiah, “Where are your prophets who prophesied to you, saying: ‘The king of Babylon will not come against you and against this land.’?” The plural form, ‘your prophets’, matches the plural in 28:8, and their message exactly matches that of Hananiah in ch. 28. Again, the point is not that these prophets are ‘false’, but that, this time, their message happens to be wrong. It is Jeremiah whose message is right: the revolt will fail, only surrender will lead to survival (cf. 38:17). The early traditions present a coherent picture of Jeremiah’s message: Judah’s political survival depends on submission to the Babylonians. This message can be understood in terms of ancient Near Eastern divination and the normal function of prophecy: to reveal divine decrees in order to supply See McKane, Jeremiah II, 695–708, 716–25, 735–48; Graupner, Auftrag und Geschick, 61–97; Hossfeld and Meyer, Prophet gegen Prophet, 90–111; Seitz, Theology in Conflict, 208–214. 72 For this reconstruction, see McKane, Jeremiah II, 932–945, 962–971; O. Lipschits, The Fall and Rise of Jerusalem: Judah Under Babylonian Rule (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2005), 76–77, 93–94, 316–325; Seitz, Theology in Conflict, 238– 71

241, 272–273.

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the decision-makers with the information needed to make the right decisions to secure the collective well-being. The fact that Jeremiah’s message was rejected by the political leadership of Judah, is not surprising, as 28:8 points out. The Judeans in charge did not accept the advice coming from Jeremiah’s revelations. They preferred the other scenario, namely that Yahweh in due course would severely punish the Babylonians for their display of aggression against Jerusalem. The preferred scenario was that Yahweh would rescue his people from the hands of the enemy. For centuries, Yahweh had protected his people, his city Jerusalem and the dynasty of his servant David; he had always saved them from the hands of their enemies. This time too Yahweh would crush the Babylonian power, and from this perspective, resistance to the enemy was a sensible policy to adopt. This rival scenario was equally supported by prophetic oracles, such as that of Hananiah mentioned in ch 28*. This scenario and this political position prevailed in Judah during the reign of Zedekiah. In cases of ‘prophecy against prophecy’, only afterwards is it clear which message was right and which was wrong. This was a fact of life (not yet a Deuteronomistic criterion). The Judean people and their political leaders had to deal with competing divine messages. Both messages were immediately relevant to the political situation; both gave divine consent to a certain political action. Both messages were prophetic and belonged to the sphere of divination. The only difference between them was that the Judeans in charge in Jerusalem embraced the one and rejected the other. Jeremiah’s message of survival through submission came off worst in the rhetoric of revolt during the years of Zedekiah. After the capture and destruction of Jerusalem in 586 BCE, the outcome was clear: the message of Jeremiah’s opponents had been shown to be false, and Jeremiah’s message had come true. Yahweh’s decision had been not the downfall but the well-being of Babylonia, and Judah would have fared better if its politics had been those of submission. This is wisdom that comes with hindsight. It was too late to choose for the right course of action, but it was not too late to embrace the message that had been proven right. This was what happened afterwards: the ‘words and deeds’ of Jeremiah were collected and transmitted and held in great esteem, because, it was believed, Jeremiah had been right and had been truly sent by Yahweh. 73 73 Jeremiah’s message is also echoed in the Gedaliah story (Jer 40:7–41:18). Shortly after the disasters of 586 BCE, Gedaliah repeats Jeremiah’s message, as part of an oath to the Judeans that remained in the land (40:9), “Do not be afraid to serve the Babylonians. Stay in the land and serve the king of Babylon, and it shall

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Jer 28:8–9 can be read as an early commentary on the message of Jeremiah and his fate, and implicitly also on the terrible fate of Judah. It does not constitute a message from the historical Jeremiah, nor does it deal with events before 586 BCE, but it argues that the historical events permit but one conclusion: Jeremiah’s message had been the right one. The claim that Jeremiah had been right provided the ground for the collection and transmission of the sayings, stories and other traditions associated with the prophet after 586 BCE. 28:8–9 is a rehabilitation of Jeremiah put in the mouth of the prophet himself. These verses demand credit for Jeremiah. He was truly sent by Yahweh. As a stamp of approval of Jeremiah’s message, 28:8–9 marks the first stage of the collection and transmission of a ‘Jeremiah tradition’.

3.5 THE EARLY JEREMIAH TRADITION AND ITS LATER DEVELOPMENT The first stage of collection and transmission of a ‘Jeremiah tradition’, to which Jer 28:8–9 belongs, sharply differed from the expanded and thoroughly revised ‘Jeremiah corpus’ that was developed later during the (post)exilic period. The main difference is, that the Jeremiah tradition in its early stages was not yet marked by the framework of sin and punishment that decisively shapes the ‘prophecies’ of Jeremiah as we have them. As argued above (section 3.3), Jer 28:8–9 must have preceded the polemical depiction of the prophets (‫יאים‬ ִ ‫)הנְּ ִב‬ ַ as deceivers who were not sent by Yahweh (e.g. 28:15–17). This polemical depiction is part of a later revision of the Jeremiah traditions. The early traditions, including 28:8–9 and 37:19, do not yet make a distinction between Jeremiah and the false prophets. It is still a matter of competing messages: survival through submission versus survival through resistance. Of course, the reason of collecting and transmitting the Jeremiah traditions was, as 28:8–9 makes explicit, to underscore that Jeremiah’s message had come true, but the qualifications ‘falsehood’ and ‘lies’ for Jeremiah’s opponents do not belong to the earliest stage. A fundamental revision of the Jeremiah tradition gave the earlier materials a decisive new twist. It is in this revision that a new depiction of ‘the prophets’ (‫יאים‬ ִ ‫)הנְּ ִב‬ ַ originated: they are now portrayed as Jeremiah’s opponents, false and deceptive smooth-talkers, that were not sent by Yahweh (e.g. 27:9–10, 14–15, 28:15–17, 29:8–9, 29:31–32).74 Whereas the early traditions, including 28:8–9, do not relate the disasters that befell 85F

go well with you.” 74 De Jong, “Why Jeremiah is Not Among the Prophets,” 495–503.

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Judah and Jerusalem to Judah’s sins and Yahweh’s anger, this is the dominant perspective introduced by the later reworking. The early traditions do not contain ‘prophecy of judgement’. 75 Judah is not doomed, rather Jeremiah’s messages serve the collective well-being, aiming to achieve ‘survival through submission’. In the later revision, however, the downfall of Judah is explained as Yahweh’s rightful punishment of the sins of his people. This later reflection reframed the ‘prophecies’ of Jeremiah. This is how the ‘prophecy of doom’ originated, and how Jeremiah became a ‘prophet of judgement’. 76 The message of doom for Judah is often regarded as being part of the earliest stages of the Jeremiah tradition, but there are good reasons for siding with the more critical view that the message of doom for Judah is the product of a fundamental revision of an earlier, prophetic legacy. First of all, as a revision dating from the exilic period, it can be understood as a normal ancient Near Eastern explanation for the disasters that befell Judah, as being ‘due to divine wrath’. 77 By contrast, understood as genuine prophecy, it creates the anomaly of a prophet rejecting his own society.78 Moreover, as this article indicates, underneath the sin-andpunishment perspective, i.e., the rejecting of the prophets as liars and the irrevocable doom predicted by Jeremiah, lies an earlier tradition, a prophetic legacy. Here, Jeremiah appears as a prophet in ancient Near Eastern guise. His messages supporting Judah’s survival by submission to Babylonia are incompatible with the message of ‘doom’. The most reasonable explanation is that the original messages have been re-written from a later, exilic, perspective. An earlier prophetic legacy was revised: Jeremiah, as the mouthpiece of Yahweh’s anger, now foretold doom for his own people, because they had not heeded Yahweh’s words spoken by Jeremiah.

Various scholars have argued that this applies to the earliest parts of the sayings material of Jeremiah 4–23* as well, e.g. Kratz, Die Propheten Israels, 77; K.-F. Pohlmann, Die Ferne Gottes: Studien zum Jeremiabuch. Beiträge zu den 75

‘Konfessionen’ im Jeremiabuch und ein Versuch zur Frage nach den Anfängen der Jeremiatradition (BZAW, 179; Berlin: De Gruyter, 1989); K. Schmid, Buchgestalten des Jeremiabuches. Untersuchungen zur Redaktions- und Rezeptionsgeschichte von Jer 30-33 im Kontext des Buches (WMANT, 72; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1996), 330–340. 76 Kratz, Die Propheten Israels, 52–86, esp. 77. 77 De Jong, “Biblical Prophecy – A Scribal Enterprise,” 41–54. 78 Nissinen, “Das kritische Potential,” 30, points out that no ancient Near Eastern prophet ever rejected the institution of kingship or announced the collapse of the society or state he was part of.

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At a still later stage of development, probably in the Persian period, a further dimension was added to the ‘prophecies of Jeremiah’. The period of Judah’s punishment was now limited to three generations or to seventy years, after which for Judah a new time of restoration would come. As a result of this development, ‘Jeremiah’s prophecies’ now encompassed a wide perspective in time, viz., Babylonia’s rule and ultimate fall, and in space, viz. the world of the nations at large. 79 Within chs. 27–29 this further redactional development is represented by 27:5–7 and 29:10–14. The redactional character of such passages, dealing with the time set for Babylonia’s hegemony and Judah’s punishment, has been widely recognized. 80 Importantly however before these, presumably post-exilic, redaction(s), the image of Jeremiah and his prophecies and the image of the prophets opposing Jeremiah, had already been decisively reshaped by a scribal revision. Underneath the dominant perspective of sin and punishment that was produced by this revision, a prophetic legacy is still visible. Before Jeremiah was turned into a preacher of doom for Judah, a ‘Jeremiah tradition’ existed. During its earliest stages, traditions concerning Jeremiah’s words and deeds were preserved, collected and transmitted. According to these early traditions, Jeremiah was not a preacher of doom but a prophet whose message happened to come true, and his opponents were not false prophets but prophets whose message happened to be wrong (e.g. 37:19). Jeremiah 28:8–9 claims that it must therefore be acknowledged that Jeremiah was truly sent by Yahweh. This claim lies at the basis of the Jeremiah tradition, and Jeremiah 28:8–9 is thus to be seen as an early commentary to Jeremiah’s prophetic activity.

4. THE CONCEPT OF TRUE VERSUS FALSE PROPHECY The idea that prophecy of judgement and prophecy of salvation were two completely different types of prophecy has been a huge impediment for an adequate view of prophecy as a historical phenomenon. This idea should be abandoned. Instead, prophecy is to be seen as a multifaceted phenomenon

79 For this later, post-exilic, perspective, see De Jong, “Why Jeremiah is Not Among the Prophets,” 490–495. 80 These texts have been related to the Deuteronomistic redactions of the Jeremiah corpus. See R. Albertz, Israel in Exile. The History and Literature of the Sixth Century BCE. (trans. David Green; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature), 312–327, esp. 316.

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which could include messages of encouragement, support, warning, criticism and reproach. The biblical prophetic books certainly present a contrast between the true message of punishment and destruction on the one hand and the falsehood of the prophets claiming that all will be fine on the other. This contrast belongs to the prophetic books as scribal artefacts and does not correspond directly with the historical practices of prophecy. There is however something more to say in this regard. The biblical contrast between the true message of judgement and the false message of peace, is not adequately described by the terms ‘true versus false prophecy’. Take for instance the harangues against ‘the prophets’ in Jer 23:9–40, Ezek 13:1–16, and Mic 3:5–8. These texts are commonly referred to as dealing with the ‘false prophets’, but instead they deal with ‘the prophets’ (‫יאים‬ ִ ‫)הנְּ ִב‬ ַ in general. The prophets in general are denounced as deceivers of the people, and the figure addressing them is not presented as a prophet (‫)נָ ִביא‬, but instead described in other words as the true spokesman of Yahweh’s message of judgement. 81 In these three cases, the picture is that Yahweh has put his words of judgement ‘in’ his mouthpiece and forces him to speak them out. A similar picture of such a ‘mouthpiece of Yahweh’s anger’ versus the ‘normal’ prophets, is found in Amos 7:10–17 (esp. 7:14–15). What we see in various prophetic books is a depiction of a true spokesman of Yahweh’s words, positioned outside the range of prophecy and divination, and standing in opposition to the religious establishment, which as a whole—including ‘the prophets’ as such—is condemned. 82 Elsewhere I have argued that the Book of Jeremiah is built on a tradition complex in which Jeremiah is deliberately not referred to as a ‫נָ ִביא‬ in order to distinguish him from ‘the prophets’ in general.83 This tradition complex depicts the Judean establishment, that is, the leaders, the priests, and the prophets, as being sinful altogether. If this is correct, what we encounter in the biblical prophetic books is in many cases not ‘true against false prophecy’ but rather a denunciation of ‘the prophets’ as such, as part of a denunciation of the political and religious establishment as a whole. This is a scribal, ex eventu, perspective, and the spokesmen of this perspective are often depicted as ‘containers’ of Yahweh’s angry words, but deliberately not as ‘prophets’. 84 865F

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81 See the depiction of Jeremiah in Jer 23:9, that of Micah in Mic 3:8, and that of Ezekiel in Ezek 2:7–3:4. 82 See on this De Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 323– 333. 83 De Jong, “Why Jeremiah is Not Among the Prophets,” 483–510. 84 In the later, redactional, development, this distinction was not always

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The Former Prophets do not contain many examples of ‘false prophets’ presented in direct opposition with one or more ‘true prophet(s)’ either. There is, of course, the example of Elijah versus the prophets of Baal (1 Kings 18). The story of 1 Kings 22 may at first sight seem to be another example. However, on a closer look, it is not, since the four hundred prophets are not depicted as ‘false prophets’, but simply as ‘prophets’ that, for a particular reason, are deliberately misinformed by Yahweh. 85 An interesting element here is the ‘spirit’ becoming “a deceiving spirit in the mouth of all his prophets” (v. 22). This element functions as an explanation for the fact that all the prophets (including Micaiah himself, in v. 15!) have delivered an illusory and deceptive message to the king (v. 6, 11–12, 15).86 So the question of reliability is at stake—the issue whether a prophetic message can be relied upon, or, in case of several, conflicting messages, which one is most trustworthy—but there is not the issue of ‘true versus false prophecy’. The Hebrew Bible presents two different characterizations of ‘the prophets’ (‫יאים‬ ִ ‫)הנְּ ִב‬ ַ in general. 87 First, there is the characterization of the prophets as ‘deceivers of the people’, prominent in some of the prophetic books. Second, there is the characterization of ‘Yahweh’s servants, the prophets’, that were sent to the people time and again in order to urge them to amend their ways, but in vain. These two characterizations originally were unrelated, they belonged to very different tradition complexes. In the 871F

maintained, and sometimes the term ‫ נָ ִביא‬was used again in a positive way, mostly in the expression ‘Yahweh’s servants, the prophets’ (e.g. Amos 3:7; Jer 7:25, etc). See on this below. 85 See E. Ben Zvi, “A Contribution to the Intellectual History of Yehud: The Story of Micaiah and Its Function within the Discourse of Persian-Period Literati, in Ph.R. Davies and D.V. Edelman, The Historian and the Bible. Essays in Honour of Lester L. Grabbe (LHBOTS, 530; London and New York: T&T Clark , 2010), 89–102, here 96–98. 86 See for this element, E.J. Hamori, “The Spirit of Falsehood,” in CBQ 72 (2010), 15–30. Hamori’s claim that the spirit of falsehood “affects people viewed as being already in the wrong” (p. 28) may be justified with regard to king Ahab as the target of this deceptive message, but is not justified with regard to the four hundred prophets. According to Hamori, “Ahab’s prophets are already giving false prophecy” (p. 28), but this is not the case. The group of prophets gives a uniform and univocally encouraging prophecy, and it is only in retrospect that it is explained by Micaiah how this unisonous message originated (1 Kgs 22:19–23). By referring to the spirit of falsehood, Micaiah explains how the prophets – unknowingly! – delivered a deceptive message. 87 See De Jong, Isaiah among the Ancient Near Eastern Prophets, 330–332; De Jong, “Why Jeremiah is Not Among the Prophets,” 495–500.

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course of the redactional development of the biblical literature, they began to emerge side by side in some books. 88 In Deut 18:15–22 different characterizations of the prophets are purposefully brought together. This passage introduces a distinction between ‘the prophet like Moses’ (vv 15–19), that is prophets that are true spokesmen of Yahweh on the one hand, and prophets speaking in the name of other deities or speaking presumptuously in Yahweh’s name on the other (vv 20–22). Here we may see a deliberate contrast between ‘true and false’, although even here these terms are not used. In relation with other texts dealing with the prophets, such as in the book of Jeremiah, Deut 18:15–22 stands on the receiving end of the tradition rather than on the giving.89 It builds on various strands of tradition, such as the characterization of the prophets as loyal servants of Yahweh (‘my servants, the prophets’) and the characterization of the prophets as deceivers, at home in the prophetic books. In Deut 18:15–22, these are brought together and rephrased from a deuteronomistic point of view. It was now defined that ‘true prophets’ had nothing to do with divinatory practices at all (see Deut 18:9–18), and these, from a historical point of view very unprophetic, ‘prophets’, were designated as ‫נָ ִביא‬. The concept of ‘true versus false prophecy’ does not relate to historical prophetic practice, and is, as I have argued, not at the heart of the biblical prophetic literature either. Yet it became a reality in the scholarly mind. Following the footsteps of Deut 18:15–22, but going beyond what this text claims, interpreters blended the various images (‘the prophets as deceivers of the people’; ‘the prophets as Yahweh’s loyal servants’), thereby creating the cocktail of ‘true versus false’.90 Among the victims of this 873F

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88 For this phenomenon in the book of Jeremiah, see De Jong, “Why Jeremiah is Not Among the Prophets,” 496–497. 89 For the dependence of Deut 18:9–22 on the Jeremiah traditions, see W.H. Schmidt, “Das Prophetengesetz Dtn 18,9–22 im Kontext erzählender Literatur,” in M. Vervenne and J. Lust (eds.), Deuteronomy and Deuteronomistic Literature: Festschrift C.H Brekelmans (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1997), 55–69 and M. Köckert, “Zum literargeschichtlichen Ort des Prophetengesetzes Dtn 18 zwischen dem Jeremiabuch und Dtn 13,” in R.G. Kratz and H. Spieckermann (eds.), Liebe und Gebot: Studien zum Deuteronomium (FRLANT, 190; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000), 80–100. 90 The Septuagint translators of the books of Jeremiah and Zechariah were among the first who did this. They introduced the term οἱ ψευδοπροφῆται (‘the false prophets’) as a rendering of Hebrew ‫יאים‬ ִ ‫( ַהנְּ ִב‬nine cases in Jeremiah, one in Zechariah) in order to show the principal distinction between ‘the prophets’ as deceivers of the people on the one hand, and ‘true prophets’ such as Jeremiah on

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thinking was Jer 28:8–9. V. 8 was connected with ‘true prophecy of judgement’ and v. 9 with ‘false prophecy of peace’, since the text simply had to fit to the schema, even though it was clear that v. 8 describes what Hananiah says in v. 2–4 and v. 9 describes what Jeremiah says in 29:7.

the other.

MICAH’S TERAPHIM BENJAMIN D. COX

UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS AT AUSTIN

SUSAN ACKERMAN

DARTMOUTH COLLEGE Determining the proper interpretation of the eight passages in the Hebrew Bible in which the term ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬occurs (Gen 31:19–35; Judges 17–18; 1 Sam 15:23; 19:11–17; 2 Kgs 23:24; Ezek 21:26 [in most of the Bible’s English versions, 21:21]; Hos 3:4; and Zech 10:2) has proven to be, in many respects, a vexing problem for scholars. For example, as well documented by K. van der Toorn and T.J. Lewis in their jointly authored “‫”תּ ָר ִפים‬ ְ entry in the Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament, and in addition by van der Toorn in a 1990 article that appeared in the Catholic Biblical Quarterly, no consensus has been reached regarding the etymology of ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ 1 2 although many suggestions have been put forward. How exactly to 875F

876F

K. van der Toorn and T.J. Lewis, “‫תּ ָר ִפים‬,” ְ in G.J. Botterweck, H. Ringgren, and H.-J. Fabry (eds.), TDOT, 15 (Grand Rapids, MI/Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2006), 777–89 (778–79); K. van der Toorn, “The Nature of the Biblical Teraphim in the Light of the Cuneiform Evidence,” CBQ 52 (1990), 203–22 (203–4). See further, in van der Toorn and Lewis, “‫תּ ָר ִפים‬,” ְ n. 1 on p. 778, which refers readers to the extensive etymological discussion found in HALOT, 4, 1794–96. Also see Lewis’s etymological discussion in “Teraphim,” in K. van der Toorn, B. Becking, and P.W. van der Horst (eds.), DDD (Leiden/New York/Köln: E.J. Brill, 1995), 1588–1601 (1588–90), and that of A. Jeffers, in her Magic and Divination in Ancient Palestine and Syria (Studies in the History and Culture of the Ancient Near East, 8; Leiden/New York/Köln: E.J. Brill, 1996), 223–25. 2 Even in those cases, moreover, where a certain etymology has gained a modicum of support—most notably, H.A. Hoffner’s suggestion, building on the work of B. Landsberger, that Hebrew ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬might be related to the Hittite-Luwian word tarpi(š), meaning some sort of otherworldly spirit (H.A. Hoffner, Jr., “The 1

309

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envision the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬has also been an issue that has resisted resolution, as the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬of Gen 31:34 atop which Rachel sits seem as though they must be markedly different in size than the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that Michal puts in David’s bed in 1 Sam 19:13 as a doppelgänger for her fugitive husband. 3 These two passages also illustrate the ambiguity that the term ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬can manifest in terms of number, referring both to plural ‫( ְתּ ָר ִפים‬as in the story of the multiple ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬on which Rachel sits) and to ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in the singular (as in the story of the lone ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that Michal uses to impersonate David). Even here, though, the matter is confused, since the seemingly singular ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬of the David-Michal story has a wig of netted goat hair (‫)כּ ִביר ָה ִﬠזִּ ים‬ ְ placed ‫מ ַר ֲאשׁ ָֹתיו‬, ְ literally “at its heads” (1 Sam 19:13, 16).4 Still, as again has been well documented by van der Toorn in his CBQ article, by van der Toorn and Lewis in the TDOT, and in addition by both van der Toorn and Lewis in other publications, 5 some things are clear. 87F

87F

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Linguistic Origins of Teraphim,” BSac 124 [1967], 230–38; idem, “Hittite Tarpiš and Hebrew Terāpîm,” JNES 27 [1968], 61–68)—the proposed derivation “hardly advances our understanding of the role of the teraphim in ancient Israelite religion” (van der Toorn, “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 204). Similar sentiments are expressed by J.S. Bray, Sacred Dan: Religious Tradition and Cultic Practice in Judges 17–18 (Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies, 449; New York/London: T & T Clark, 2006), 119; Lewis, “Teraphim,” 1588; and van der Toorn and Lewis, “‫תּ ָר ִפים‬,” ְ 779. 3 Although cf. R. Albertz, A History of Israelite Religion in the Old Testament Period, 1: From the Beginnings to the End of the Monarchy (OTL; Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox, 1992), 254, n. 53, who argues—based on the work of H. Rouillard and J. Tropper (“Trpym, rituels de guérison et culte des ancêtres d’après 1 Samuel XIX 11–17 et les textes parallèles d’Assur et de Nuzi,” VT 37 [1987], 340– 61)—that the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬of 1 Samuel 19 need not be life-size. 4 On the phrase ‫מ ַר ֲאשׁ ָֹתיו‬, ְ see K. van der Toorn, Family Religion in Babylonia, Syria and Israel: Continuity and Change in the Forms of Religious Life (Studies in the History and Culture of the Ancient Near East, 7; Leiden/New York/Köln: E.J. Brill, 1996), 219, n. 59. On the interpretation of the rather enigmatic phrase ‫ְכּ ִביר‬ ‫ ָה ִﬠזִּ ים‬in 1 Sam 19:13, see, among others, P.K. McCarter, 1 Samuel: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB, 8; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1980), 326, and van der Toorn, Family Religion, 220, and the references there. 5 T.J. Lewis, Cults of the Dead in Ancient Israel and Ugarit (HSM, 39; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), 178 and n. 12 on that page; idem, “Teraphim,” 1588–1601; and idem, “Divine Images and Aniconism in Ancient Israel” (Review article of Tryggve Mettinger, No Graven Image? Israelite Aniconism in Its Ancient Near Eastern Context [ConBOT, 42; Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell International,

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

311

First, as demonstrated in Gen 31:19–35 and 1 Sam 19:11–17, as well as in Judg 17:5, where the Ephraimite Micah is said to have “made” (‫)ﬠ ָשׂה‬ ָ ‫ֵאפו ֺד‬ ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬, ְ ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬are some sort of concrete objects. The witness of 1 Samuel 19 also suggests that because that story’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬has a human-like head and can be used to impersonate David, ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬are anthropoid in form. It further seems certain, based on texts such as Ezek 21:26 and Zech 10:2, that ‫ְתּ ָר ִפים‬ were used for purposes of divination. 6 In Ezek 21:26, for example, “consulting the ‫”תּ ָר ִפים‬ ְ is listed alongside two other well-known divination rites from the ancient Near East, belomancy and hepatoscopy. The terms “divination” (‫)ק ֶסם‬ ֶ and ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬arguably stand paralleled in 1 Sam 15:23 as well.7 Both van der Toorn and Lewis further propose that the specific divinatory practice with which the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬are to be associated is necromancy. They suggest this, first, because the particular term used for divination in the three passages just cited (1 Sam 15:23; Ezek 21:26; and Zech 10:2), ‫ק ֶסם‬,ֶ can be used elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible in texts that refer specifically to the calling up of dead spirits (Deut 18:10–14 and, according to van der Toorn’s and Lewis’s interpretation, Mic 3:6, 11). 8 In 80F

81F

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1995]), JAOS 118 (1998), 36–53 (43–44). K. van der Toorn, From Her Cradle to Her Grave: The Role of Religion in the Life of the Israelite and the Babylonian Woman (The Biblical Seminar, 23; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1994), 39–40; idem,

“Ancestors and Anthroponyms: Kinship Terms as Theophoric Elements in Hebrew Names,” ZAW 108 (1996), 1–11 (9); idem, Family Religion, 218–25, translated with minor changes in “Ein verborgenes Erbe: Totencult im frühen Israel,” TQ 177 (1997), 105–20 (114–18); idem, “Israelite Figurines: A View from the Texts,” in B.M. Gittlin (ed.), Sacred Time, Sacred Place: Archaeology and the Religion of Israel (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2002), 45–62 (54–56); and idem, “Recent Trends in the Study of Israelite Religion,” in G. Wiegers (ed.), in association with J. Platvoet, Modern Societies and the Science of Religion: Studies in Honor of Lammert Leertouwer (SHR, 95; London/Boston/Köln: E.J. Brill, 2002), 223–43 (228–29). 6 Although cf. Rouillard and Tropper, “Trpym, rituels de guérison et culte des ancêtres,” 340–61, and especially 346–51, who, while agreeing that ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬have a divinatory function, argue that 1 Samuel 19 presumes another use for ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in healing rituals, with a ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬functioning as a substitute image of an invalid onto which his or her illness is passed. 7 H.C. Brichto, “Kin, Cult, Land and Afterlife—A Biblical Complex,” HUCA 44 (1973), 1–54 (46); Lewis, “Teraphim,” 1598; van der Toorn, “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 214; idem, Family Religion, 223–24; and van der Toorn and Lewis, “‫תּ ָר ִפים‬,” ְ 787. 8 Van der Toorn, “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 215; idem, Family

312

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

addition, van der Toorn and Lewis posit there is a relationship between King Josiah’s putting away of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in 2 Kgs 23:24, as part of his massive project of religious reformation, and the condemnation of the consulting of the dead in Deut 18:11, so much so that “Deut 18:11,” according to van der Toorn and Lewis, “appears to be the program behind Josiah’s actions.” 9 Indeed, the central point of van der Toorn’s 1990 CBQ article, which he and Lewis re-affirmed in the TDOT, was to argue in support of a proposal that went back to F. Schwally, writing in 1892, and that had recently been revived—in 1987—by H. Rouillard and J. Tropper: 10 that the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬themselves are not household god figurines, as many twentiethcentury biblical scholars had assumed,11 but representations of deceased spirits. More specifically (so this proposal goes), ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬are representations of a family’s deceased ancestors. 12 As such, the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬are especially able 83F

84F

85F

86F

Religion, 224; and van der Toorn and Lewis, “‫תּ ָר ִפים‬,” ְ 787, in all three cases citing F. Stolz, “Der Streit um die Wirklichkeit in der Südreichsprophetie des 8. Jahrhunderts,” WD 12 (1973), 9–30 (22–25). 9 Van der Toorn and Lewis, “‫תּ ָר ִפים‬,” ְ 788; see similarly J. Blenkinsopp, “Deuteronomy and the Politics of Post-Mortem Existence,” VT 45 (1995), 1–16, especially 11–12; van der Toorn, “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 215; and idem, Family Religion, 224. 10 F. Schwally, Das Leben nach dem Tode nach den Vorstellungen des alten Israel und des Judentums einschliesslich des Volksglaubens im Zeitalter Christi

(Giessen: J. Ricker, 1892), 35–37; Rouillard and Tropper, “Trpym, rituels de guérison et culte des ancêtres,” 351–57. Rouillard and Tropper (ibid, 357, n. 44) and van der Toorn, (“Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 204, n. 8; idem, Family Religion, 224, n. 83) also cite, among older scholars who promoted this same view: A. Lods, La croyance à la vie future et les culte des morts dans l’antiquité israélite (Paris: Fischbacher, 1906), 236; R.H. Charles, Eschatology: The Doctrine of a Future Life in Israel, Judaism and Christianity (2nd ed. [1913]; reprinted New York: Schocken, 1963), 21–23; H. Wohlstein, “Zu den altisraelitischen Vorstellungen von Toten- und Ahnengeistern,” BZ 5 (1961), 30–38 (37–38); and J. Lust, “On Wizards and Prophets,” Studies on Prophecy (VTSup, 26; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1974), 133–42 (138). For a catalog of more recent adherents, see n. 12. 11 As van der Toorn (in “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 204, and Family Religion, 222) and Lewis (in “Teraphim,” 1589) point out, this suggestion goes back to S. Smith, writing in 1926 (apud C.J. Gadd, “Tablets from Kirkuk,” RA 23 [1926], 49–161 [127]) and again in 1931 (“What Were the Teraphim?” JTS 33, 33– 36). The premier presentation is A.E. Draffkorn (Kilmer), “ILĀNI/ELOHIM,” JBL 76 (1957), 216–24. 12 Van der Toorn, “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 204 and 215–17; van der

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

313

and, in fact, perfectly suited to perform the necromantic function of transmitting oracular messages from the realm of the dead to their families’ living descendants. To be sure, in Gen 31:19, 30, 32, 34, and 35, the synonymous use of the terms ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬and ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫( ֱא‬treated as a plural form, “gods”; see 31:32, 34) might suggest that the older identification of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬as household gods is correct, and multiple texts from Nuzi have also been used to argue that the cognate term for ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬that is used within them, ilānu, means “household gods.” Yet at Nuzi, ilānu, because it is often coupled with eṭemmū, meaning “spirits of the dead,” is better interpreted as meaning deceased spirits in general and a household’s deceased ancestors in particular,13 and recently discovered texts from Emar, where ilānu is paralleled by mētū, “the dead,” indicate this as well.14 In the Hebrew Bible 87F

8F

Toorn and Lewis, “‫תּ ָר ִפים‬,” ְ 783, 787–88. See similarly Albertz, History of Israelite Religion, 1, 38; Blenkinsopp, “Deuteronomy and the Politics of Post-Mortem Existence,” 12; M. Dijkstra, “Women and Religion in the Old Testament,” in B. Becking et al., Only One God? Monotheism in Ancient Israel and the Veneration of the Goddess Asherah (The Biblical Seminar, 77; London/New York: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001), 164–88 (168); Lewis, Cults of the Dead, 178; idem, “The Ancestral Estate (‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ )נַ ֲח ַלת ֱא‬in 2 Samuel 14:16,” JBL 110 (1991), 597–612 (603); idem, “Teraphim,” 1598–99; idem, “Divine Images and Aniconism in Ancient Israel,” 43; O. Loretz, “Die Teraphim als ‘Ahnen-Götter-Figur(in)en’ im Lichte der Texte aus Nuzi, Emar und Ugarit,” UF 24 (1992), 134–78, especially 152–68; van der Toorn, Family Religion, 223–25; idem, “Israelite Figurines,” 54; and idem, “Recent Trends,” 228–29. 13 Although cf. B.B. Schmidt, Israel’s Beneficent Dead: Ancestor Cult and Necromancy in Ancient Israelite Religion and Tradition (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1996), 123–25, who rejects both the identification of the ilānu with the eṭemmū at Nuzi and their identification as deified ancestors. Also cf. Rouillard and Tropper, “Trpym, rituels de guérison et culte des ancêtres,” 354, who follow A. Tsukimoto, Untersuchungen zur Totenplege (kispum) im altern Mesopotamien (AOAT, 216; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1985), 104–5, to suggest a somewhat more complex relationship between the terms ilānu and eṭemmū at Nuzi: that the eṭemmū were a family’s recent ancestors who, after a certain period of time, passed on to join a more ancient and deified set of ancestors, the ilānu. 14 D. Fleming, “Nābû and Munabbiātu: Two New Syrian Religious Personnel,” JAOS 113 (1993), 175–83 (176–77); Loretz, “Die Teraphim als ‘Ahnen-GötterFigur(in)en,’” 166–67; K. van der Toorn, “Gods and Ancestors in Emar and Nuzi,” ZA 84 (1994), 38–59; idem, “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 221–22; idem, “Ancestors and Anthroponyms,” 6; idem, Family Religion, 55–56, 222–23; and Tsukimoto, Untersuchungen zur Totenplege (kispum), 9–11. See also the summary

314

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

too, ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬can refer to deceased spirits: in 1 Sam 28:13; Isa 8:19; Num 25:2, as quoted in Ps 106:28; and probably Exod 21:6.15 This in turn suggests an Israelite understanding of the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬cum ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬of Gen 31:19, 30, 32, 34, and 35 and elsewhere as representations of deceased spirits or, just as van der Toorn and Lewis have proposed, as ancestor figurines. In this paper, it is our intention, first, to look closely at the story of Micah’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in Judges 17–18 in the light of this proposal in order to argue that the identification of ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬as ancestor figurines is well supported by the Micah account. Indeed, we maintain that this identification actually clarifies certain details of the Micah narrative, especially the heretofore unanswered question of what prompted Micah, in Judg 17:5, to make his ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in the first place. After presenting our explanation of this and a related matter—regarding an ambiguity in the interpretation of the term ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in Judg 18:14, 17, 18, and 20—we will turn, in Section 2 of our paper, to engage another potential enigma in the Micah story: why Micah, upon the occasion of the Danites’ theft of all his household’s religious treasures (a significant compendium, as we will discuss further below), focuses exclusively on the loss of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that he had previously made (Judg 18:24). Our account regarding this issue will illuminate, we will argue in Section 3, the Bible’s other story of the stealing of ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ Rachel’s theft of her father Laban’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in Gen 31:19–35. Finally, in our concluding remarks, we will return to the story of the thieving Danites in Judges 17–18 to ask if there are some last subtleties at play regarding their absconding with Micah’s ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ which concern the value of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬not just to Micah, which we will have discussed in Section 2, but the potential appeal of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬to the tribesmen of Dan as well. Before beginning this exposition, though, we must raise two cautions. The first concerns the difficulty that attends any analysis of Judges 17–18, 89F

of the Emar data provided by van der Toorn and Lewis, in “‫תּ ָר ִפים‬,” ְ 780, and by Lewis, in “The Ancestral Estate,” 600, and in “Teraphim,” 1590–92, 1598–99. Cf. Schmidt, Israel’s Beneficent Dead, 125–30, who, as in his analysis the Nuzi ilānu (n. 13 above), rejects the identification of the ilānu with mētū at Emar. 15 On this interpretation of Exod 21:6, see van der Toorn and Lewis, “‫תּ ָר ִפים‬,” ְ 783, and, as cited there, Schwally, Das Leben nach dem Tode, 37–39; H. Niehr, “Ein unerkannter Text zur Nekromantie in Israel: Bemerkungen zum religionsgeschichtlichen Hintergrund von 2 Sam 12,16a,” UF 23 (1991), 301–6; and A. Cooper and B.F. Goldstein, “The Cult of the Dead and the Theme of Entry into the Land,” BibInt 1 (1994), 285–303, especially 294 and n. 23 on that page. On Num 25:2 as quoted in Ps 106:28, see Lewis, Cults of the Dead, 167, and idem, “The Ancestral Estate,” 602.

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

315

given this text’s well known polemical intent. 16 More specifically, Judges 17–18 polemicizes against the Danite priesthood by ridiculing the integrity of its levitical founder, who was easily persuaded to abandon his contractual obligations to serve as Micah’s household priest in order to take up a post among the Danites that carried greater power and prestige; 17 the text derides as well the sanctuary at Dan that this levitical priest came to serve, by portraying it as centered upon a cult image with a copiously suspect heritage. The image had been cast from silver stolen from Micah’s mother, for example, as well as having come to the plundering Danites by illicit means. In addition, the designating of this cult image using the phrase ‫ֶפּ ֶסל‬ ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ (in Judg 17:3, 4; and 18:14) or (in 18:20, 30, and 31) ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬alone (more on this grammatical ambiguity below) carries negative connotations, given that ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬is deployed pejoratively in Deut 27:15 and Nah 1:14 (cf. also Isa 42:17; Hab 2:18) and that the making of a ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬is condemned in the second commandment as articulated in Exod 20:4 and Deut 5:18. M.Z. Brettler moreover argues, following M. Noth, that the story implies a negative attitude about the Danites as a people, because of the way in which they “conquer the unsuspecting peaceful residents of Laish.” 18 890F

891F

892F

16 Our characterization of the polemic in Judges 17–18 that follows is taken primarily from van der Toorn, Family Religion, 247–48; see somewhat similarly, regarding the story as a polemic against the levitical priesthood, M.Z. Brettler, “The Book of Judges: Literature as Politics,” JBL 108 (1989), 395–418 (409), following M. Noth, “The Background of Judges 17–18,” in B.W. Anderson and W. Harrelson (eds.), Israel’s Prophetic Heritage: Essays in Honor of James Muilenburg (New York: Harper and Row, 1962), 68–85. Also, regarding the story as a polemic against the sanctuary at Dan, see J.D. Martin, The Book of Judges (CBC; Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1975), 182–83, 187; A. Rofé, “‘No Ephod or Teraphim’—oude hierateias oude dēlōn: Hosea 3:4 in the LXX and in the Paraphrases of Chronicles and the Damascus Document,” in C. Cohen, A. Hurvitz, and S.M. Paul (eds.), Sefer Moshe: The Moshe Weinfeld Jubilee Volume: Studies in the Bible and the Ancient Near East, Qumran, and Post-Biblical Judaism (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2004), 135–49 (148); and J.A. Soggin, Judges: A Commentary (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1981), 268–69, 277–78. 17 As Brettler somewhat colloquially but aptly states (in “The Book of Judges,” 409), the Levite opts “to become a ‘big shot’ in Dan rather than remain a ‘hick’ priest” in Ephraim. 18 Brettler, “The Book of Judges,” 409; see similarly J.C. McCann, Judges (Interpretation; Louisville: John Knox Press, 2002), 123–24. Cf. however, R.G. Boling, Judges: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB, 6A; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1975), who, while he also sees the story as polemical, takes the thrust of the polemic to be directed against the “cultically selfish” (p. 255) and “delinquent” (p. 258) Micah, whose corruption of the “hero of the story” (p.

316

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

Such a polemically charged account cannot, of course, be treated as a straightforward depiction of Israelite cult. Nevertheless, we maintain that the text’s polemics still must, in terms of their underlying portrayal of Israelite religious practice, present a picture that was generally believable to their ancient Israelite audience. This is because, like any polemic, the polemics of Judges 17–18 were generated in an attempt to persuade their listeners to take the side of the polemicists in very real and live arguments that were taking place within the Israelite community at the time of these polemics’ production. Or, to put the matter somewhat more colloquially: polemics aren’t about beating a dead horse. It therefore follows that while there is certainly room for exaggeration in Judges 17–18, and even parody and caricature that can be over the top, the polemics of this text would have needed to “ring true” to their audience in at least their broad outlines, regarding, for example, the possibility that a household such as Micah’s might have employed its own levitical priest and that a female member of Micah’s household (his mother) might have commissioned the fabrication of a cult figurine. More important for our purposes: the account in Judg 17:5 of Micah’s making ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬must point to what an ancient Israelite audience thought was possible within Israelite household cult. Yet herein lies the issue that is at the heart of our second caution: that what the ancient Israelite audience of Judges 17–18 thought was possible within Israelite household cult, and thus what they understood and assumed regarding this text’s cultic resonances, is not necessarily information that Judges 17–18 explicitly articulates. As we have already noted, for example, Judges 17–18, like the seven other biblical passages that 255), the Levite, is made right only by the Danites, who “execute Yahweh’s judgment against the proud Ephraimite” (p. 259). V.H. Matthews, Judges and Ruth (NCBC; Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 169, similarly finds Micah to be characterized as “self-centered” and “unruly”; see too L. Klein, The Triumph of Irony in the Book of Judges (JSOTSup, 68; Bible and Literature Series, 14; Sheffield: Almond, 1988), 147–49, 151. Other scholars have described the story’s polemical character in different terms still: e.g., Y. Amit, “Hidden Polemic in the Conquest of Dan: Judges XVII–XVIII,” VT 40 (1990), 4–20 (7–10); McCann, Judges, 120–25, especially 124; and P.E. McMillion, “Worship in Judges 17–18,” in M.P. Graham, R.R. Marrs, and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), Worship and the Hebrew Bible: Essays in Honour of John T. Willis (JSOTSup, 284; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), 225–43 (234), citing D.R. Davis, “Comic Literature— Tragic Theology: A Study of Judges 17–18,” WTJ 46 (1984), 156–63. E.A. Mueller, The Micah Story: A Morality Tale in the Book of Judges (Studies in Biblical Literature, 34; New York: Peter Lang, 2001), 26–35, surveys various interpretations and then turns, in pp. 51–128, to offer her own analysis.

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

317

speak of the ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ assumes its audience knows what ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬are, even though we today must resort to hypotheses developed from reasonable conjecture to determine the nature of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬and their significance. Likewise, and more germane for our purposes, the text leaves us in ignorance regarding the several matters (such as what prompts Micah to make his ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in the first place) that we have identified above as our primary interest. Our explanations of these matters will thus by necessity be based on hypotheses and (we hope) reasonable conjecture, regarding, for example, the nuances we will propose ancient Israelite audiences would have heard in the Judges 17–18 account (and also in Genesis 31) and the ways in which these audiences would have filled in details that these stories tend to gloss over. Still, we must admit our inferences will become less secure as our essay progresses; indeed, our concluding comments, about the potential value of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬to the tribesmen of Dan who stole them, are the product of considerable supposition. Nevertheless, we have judged this matter to be worth considering, if for no other reason than the fact that, as we have mentioned briefly in the preceding paragraphs, biblical scholarship has generally focused its analysis of the Danites’ thievery only on their taking of the cult figurine Micah’s mother had commissioned. Indeed, it is our contention that despite a degree of speculation, our discussion of the Danites’ stealing of Micah’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬provides a more coherent interpretation of this theft than is otherwise available in the literature. Similarly, we aim, in discussing the other aspects of the ‫ְתּ ָר ִפים‬ accounts of Judges 17–18 and Genesis 31 that we will consider, to illuminate details of these stories that scholars have heretofore been unable adequately to explain.

1. “AND MICAH MADE ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫” ֵאפו ֺד‬ In Judg 17:5, after an initial notice (to which we will return) that Micah had a ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ or a shrine, we are told ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫וַ יַּ ַﬠשׂ ֵאפוֹד‬, “and he made ‫ֵאפו ֺד‬ ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬.” ְ At one level, this seems a fairly simple and straightforward statement, almost as basic a declarative sentence as one can construct, in fact, according to the norms of Hebrew grammar. At another level, however, this declaration is rife with ambiguity. As is suggested, for example, by our having left the phrase ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפוֹד‬untranslated, scholars disagree, and markedly, on how to render this expression. For some, ‫ֵאפו ֺד‬ ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ is to be understood as a hendiadys and thus refers to only a single ֵ object, 19 perhaps a ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬image that was covered with an overlay, or ‫אפו ֺד‬, 893F

See, for example, van der Toorn, Family Religion, 250. See also C.A. Faraone, B. Garnand, and C. López-Ruiz, “Micah’s Mother (Judg. 17:1–4) and a 19

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BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

of silver or gold (the term ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬is used in precisely this way—to describe the gold plating that covers an image—in Isa 30:22, where we read of the ‫) ֲא ֻפ ַדּת ַמ ֵסּ ַכת זָ ָהב‬. According to most commentators, however, ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬refers to an object other than Micah’s ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬. ְ But what?20 The overgarment, or ‫אפו ֺד‬, ֵ that is a part of the priestly vestments? Or a divine image of some sort, as the term ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬might mean elsewhere in Judges (Judg 8:27)? Or is ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬in Judg 17:5, and also in Hos 3:4 and several passages in 1 Samuel, a synonym for the term ‫ארו ֺן‬, ֲ “ark,” as van der Toorn in CBQ and van der 894F

Curse from Carthage (KAI 89): Canaanite Precedents for Greek and Latin Curses against Thieves?” JNES 64 (2005), 161–86 (164, n. 13), who argue not only that the phrase ‫ ֵאפוֺד וּ ְת ָר ִפים‬is to be understood as a hendiadys but that it should be taken as referring to the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬of 17:4 (which they also interpret as a hendiadys; see further below, n. 23), with ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬referring specifically to the ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬proper and ‫ֵאפו ֺד‬ to its molten plating or ‫מ ֵסּ ָכה‬. ַ Other commentators similarly take ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬to be equivalent, with ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬stemming from one stratum in the history of Judges 17–18’s textual development and the variant ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬from another. See, for example, C.F. Burney, The Book of Judges, with Introduction and Notes (2d ed.; London: Rivington’s, 1920), 409; E.C. LaRocca-Pitts, “Of Wood and

Stone”: The Significance of Israelite Cultic Items in the Bible and Its Early Interpreters (HSM, 61; Winona Lane, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2001), 60; and G.F. Moore, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Judges (2nd ed.; ICC; Edinburgh: T & T

Clark, 1903), 378. However, while Judges 17–18 no doubt has a multi-layered redactional history (see n. 22 below), it seems to us that the plainest meaning of the text—and the one embraced by the final redactor of Judges 17–18, in 18:17, 18, and 20 (although we admit, as we will note at several points in this paper, that these verses are grammatically confused and thus less than clear)—is to see the ‫ֶפּ ֶסל‬ ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ and the ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬as distinct objects. See further Albertz, History of Israelite Religion, 1, 37: “the teraphim [...] are here [in Judges 17–18] distinguished clearly from a cultic image of the god proper [i.e., the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫]פּ ֶסל‬.” ֶ 20 For discussions of the term ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬that go beyond the brief comments we offer here, see Bray, Sacred Dan, 112–18; S. Rudnig-Zelt, “Vom Propheten und seiner Frau, einem Ephod und einem Teraphim—Anmerkungen zu Hos 3:1–4, 5,” VT 60 (2010), 373–99 (385–87); M. Haran, Temples and Temple-Service in Ancient

Israel: An Inquiry into the Character of Cult Phenomena and the Historical Setting of the Priestly School (Oxford: Clarendon, 1978), 166–68; P.J. King and L.E. Stager, Life in Biblical Israel (Library of Ancient Israel; Louisville/London:

Westminster/John Knox, 2001), 10; C. Meyers, “Ephod,” in D.N. Freedman (ed.),

ABD, 2 (New York: Doubleday, 1992), 550; and P.D. Miller, The Religion of Ancient Israel (Library of Ancient Israel; London: SPCK; Louisville, KY:

Westminster/John Knox, 2000), 56.

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

319

Toorn and Lewis in the TDOT have argued, meaning that ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬in Judg 17:5 designates a wooden box, like the ark, in which, van der Toorn and Lewis further propose, ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬were kept?21 Fortunately for our purposes, it is not necessary that we resolve—or even attempt to resolve—this debate, since all of these interpretations agree that whether the ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬of Judg 17:5 overlaid Micah’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬or was independent, Micah did make the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬on which it is our intention, as we noted above, to focus. More specifically, as we have also noted above, it is our attention to focus, at least initially, on a further point of ambiguity that we find in Judg 17:5: the question of what motivated Micah, at this particular point in the narrative, to make his ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬. ְ The text’s silence on this issue does seem to us curious, given that we are told in some detail in the preceding verses exactly what motivated a different member of Micah’s family, Micah’s mother, to consecrate two hundred pieces of silver to Yahweh and commission a metallurgist to fabricate from these ‫ֶפּ ֶסל‬ ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬. ַ 22 This is, incidentally, another ambiguous phrase within Judges 17, which is perhaps to be taken, as is perhaps ‫וּת ָר ִפם‬ ְ ‫אפוֹד‬, ֵ as a hendiadys, meaning a “cast-metal figurine” (the grammar of 17:4, which refers to the 895F

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Van der Toorn, “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 211–13; van der Toorn and Lewis, “‫תּ ָר ִפים‬,” ְ 784–87. See also K. van der Toorn and C. Houtman, “David and the Ark,” JBL 113 (1994), 209–31 (212–19, 230). But cf. Lewis, “Teraphim,” 1598, who writes, “the full picture of the ephod [...] remains somewhat murky,” and van der Toorn, Family Religion, 250, who states that “an ephod refers to an image of the god.” 22 To be sure, some scholars have proposed that Judg 17:1–4 was an originally separate tale from the next major episode that follows in Judges 17, Judg 17:7–13 (as is indicated by the fact that Micah’s name is rendered as ‫יכיְ הוּ‬ ָ ‫ ִמ‬in Judg 17:1–4 and as ‫יכה‬ ָ ‫ ִמ‬in Judg 17:7–13). Verses 5–6, according to this reconstruction, were added by a redactor to unite the two pericopes. See, e.g., Boling, Judges, 258–59; van der Toorn, Family Religion, 247; also the somewhat similar proposal advanced by Matthews, Judges and Ruth, 168, 170. If these scholars are correct, one could perhaps argue that the contrast we seek to draw here between the description of the mother’s motivations for making her ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬in 17:1–4 and the absence of any discussion of Micah’s motivations for making his ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬in 17:5 is the result only of authorial idiosyncrasy: one author chose to articulate his subject’s motivation, another did not. But one might more readily maintain—as is our preference—that even if a redactor did add 17:5–6, he would have shaped these verses according to the model of 17:1–4 and thus would seek to intimate a motivation for Micah’s craftsmanship. This motivation we will propose presently. 21

320

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬using a singular verb, ‫יְהי‬ ִ ַ‫ו‬, argues for this interpretation). 23 Or the phrase ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬might be understood, as might ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫אפו ֺד‬, ֵ as referring to two separate objects, “an image,” ‫פּ ֶסל‬, ֶ and “a molten image,” ‫( ַמ ֵסּ ָכה‬the wording of Judg 18:17 and 18, and perhaps of 18:20, 30, and 31, where the term ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬appears independent of ‫מ ֵסּ ָכה‬, ַ argues for this).24 Yet whatever the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫פּ ֶסל‬,ֶ it is clear what has motivated its/their fabrication: after the mother has had stolen from her a cache of eleven hundred pieces of silver, she utters a curse that seemingly condemns the thief but that she seeks to reverse on discovering that the miscreant was her own son. To effect this reversal, she blesses the son in the name of Yahweh and then consecrates a part of the silver to Yahweh as she seeks to evoke the deity’s favor (Judg 17:2–3).25 Conversely and curiously, as we have previously suggested, no explanation is given for Micah’s fabrication of his ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬. ְ Note also another curious feature of—and yet another ambiguity we find in—the Judg 17:1–5 pericope: that although this tale of family drama is filled with Micah’s kin (Micah himself, his mother, and the son whom Micah is said to appoint to 897F

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23 Scholars who read this phrase as a hendiadys include Boling, Judges, 256; Martin, Judges, 185; Rudnig-Zelt, “Vom Propheten und seiner Frau,” 377, 382; Soggin, Judges, 265; van der Toorn, “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 211; and idem, “Israelite Figurines,” 49, n. 16, with additional references. 24 Scholars who interpret in this way include D.M. Gunn, Judges (Blackwell Bible Commentaries; Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishing, 2005), 231; LaRocca-Pitts, “Of Wood and Stone,” 60–61; S. Niditch, Judges: A Commentary (OTL; Louisville/London: Westminster/John Knox, 2008), 172, n. g on p. 177, 181; Rofé, “‘No Ephod or Teraphim’,” 148; and T.J. Schneider, Judges (Berit Olam: Studies in Hebrew Narrative and Poetry; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2000), 233. See also Bray, Sacred Dan, 64, who revives an old suggestion made by Moore, Judges, 375–76, and by Burney, Judges, 409, 419, by reconstructing an original account in which only the term ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬appeared, supplemented later by a glossator who added ‫מ ֵסּ ָכה‬. ַ 25 On the general nature of this sort of ‫ ָא ָלה‬curse and its ability to be reversed through blessing, see Sheldon H. Blank, “The Curse, Blasphemy, the Spell, and the Oath,” HUCA 23 (1950/51), 73–95 (87–92), and Josef Scharbert, “‫א ָלה‬,” ָ in G.J. Botterweck and H. Ringgren (eds.), TDOT, 1 (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1974), 261–66. On Micah’s mother’s curse more specifically, see Faraone, Garnand, and López-Ruiz, “Micah’s Mother (Judg. 17:1–4) and a Curse from Carthage,” 161– 86, and C. Meyers, “Judg 17:1–4, Mother of Micah,” in C. Meyers (ed.), with T. Craven and R.S. Kraemer, Women in Scripture: A Dictionary of Named and

Unnamed Women in the Hebrew Bible, the Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical Books, and the New Testament (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2000), 248.

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

321

serve his household as priest at the end of 17:5), nowhere in this text, nor anywhere else in the longer Judges 17–18 narrative, is any reference made to Micah’s father. Our hypothesis is that this is because the story presumes the father to be dead and, moreover, quite recently dead. We further suggest, inspired by the proposition that the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬are to be identified as ancestor figurines, that the father’s recent death explains why Micah felt prompted, according to the narrative’s conceit, to make his ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in Judg 17:5: that shortly after his father’s demise, Micah is appropriately depicted as fabricating a ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬as a representation of this newly deceased ancestor. To be sure, Judges 17–18 never explicitly claims that Micah’s father is dead. Nevertheless, we propose that the story has within it several hints that point in this direction. We note first that our narrative consistently and repeatedly refers to Micah, and not his father, as the head of his household. Indeed, eleven times within Judges 17–18—in Judg 17:4, 8, 12; 18:2, 3, 13, 15, 18, 22, 25, and 26—we find the household in question referred to as the ‫יכה‬ ָ ‫בּית ִמ‬, ֵ the “house of Micah,” or the “house of ‫יכיְהוּ‬ ָ ‫”מ‬ ִ (a longer form of the same name). Perhaps one could argue that the reason the household is always assigned to Micah, and that the father is never mentioned, is a narrative assumption that Micah, after he came of age, moved away from his father’s house and established a homestead separate from his father’s. But this hypothesis is highly unlikely: first, because such a scenario contradicts the model of ancient Israelite family life best indicated by both our archaeological and textual evidence, in which sons do continue to reside, even upon reaching adulthood, within their father’s households; 26 second, because such a scenario cannot explain the presence of Micah’s mother in her son’s home. Were her husband still alive, she should be resident with him in his household. Or, if her husband had divorced her, she would have returned from his household to resume living in her father’s 90F

The premier presentation of this reconstruction of ancient Israelite household and family structure is L.E. Stager, “The Archaeology of the Family in Ancient Israel,” BASOR 260 (1985), 1–35. Other helpful discussions include O. Borowski, Daily Life in Biblical Times (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2003), 13–21; W.G. Dever, Who Were the Early Israelites and Where Did They Come From? (Grand Rapids, MI/Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2003), 102–7; idem, Did God Have a Wife? Archaeology and Folk Religion in Ancient Israel (Grand Rapids, MI/Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans, 2005), 18–29; King and Stager, Life in Biblical Israel, 9–19, 28–43; C. Meyers, Discovering Eve: Ancient Israelite Women in Context (New York/Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988), 128–38; J.D. Schloen, The House of the Father as Fact and Symbol: Patrimonialism in Ugarit and the Ancient Near East (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2001), 135–83; and van der Toorn, Family Religion, 194–99. 26

322

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

house. The fact that she instead lives with her son could only suggest to an ancient Israelite audience that the father had died and that Micah had succeeded him as the household’s paterfamilias. That the father is dead is additionally suggested by the fact that, as we have already seen, the mother, as our story opens, lays claim to the ownership of eleven hundred pieces of silver. Unfortunately, because our story begins in medias res, we are not told how the mother came into possession of her silver riches. We can, however, be sure of some ways in which she did not. For example, because it was overwhelmingly the norm in Iron Age Israelite tradition for marriages to be contracted not by the bride’s family bestowing a dowry upon her, but through the groom’s family transferring bridewealth (‫מ ַֹהר‬, usually translated as either “marriage present” or “marriage fee”) to the bride’s father, 27 it cannot be supposed that Micah’s mother’s eleven hundred pieces of silver were brought by her into her marriage. Nor does it make sense to suppose that Micah’s mother came to possess her eleven hundred pieces of silver during the course of her married life, given that typically within an Iron Age Israelite household, property would have been held by a woman’s spouse.28 Yet if Micah’s mother could not have come into possession of her cache of silver pieces during her marriage, and if the norms of Israelite marital practice dictate that she did not bring this silver with her to her nuptials, then it necessarily follows that the mother could have only acquired the silver after her marriage to Micah’s father had come to an end: that is, she has taken over possession from the silver’s previous owner, the father, because he is, as we have suggested, dead. 29 The father, we have further proposed, must be understood not only as dead but also as recently dead. Again, we must be clear that this is nowhere indicated explicitly in the text. Yet the evidence that points to the father’s recent death is again, we maintain, promoted by several hints found within the Judges 17–18 account. Some of these hints, indeed, seem to us even more forceful than those that pointed to the supposition that the father was no longer living. 901F

902F

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27 T.M. Lemos, Marriage Gifts and Social Change in Ancient Palestine, 1200 BCE to 200 CE (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2010). 28 B. Levine, Numbers 21–36 (AB, 4A; New York: Doubleday, 2000), 435.

29 This interpretation is also urged by G.I. Emmerson, “Women in Ancient Israel,” in R.E. Clements (ed.), The World of Ancient Israel: Sociological,

Anthropological and Political Perspectives: Essays by Members of the Society for Old Testament Study (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 371–94 (381).

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

323

We begin by noting the fact that others among the father’s generation are still alive (the mother). This suggests the father’s death is at least somewhat recent, given that, on average, men outlived women in ancient Israel. 30 That the father’s death, moreover, is not just somewhat, but instead quite recent is suggested by the several details in our story that present Micah’s family in the state of household upheaval that a new death would entail. Striking in this regard is the insistence of Judg 17:5 that once the mother’s ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and Micah’s ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬are made, Micah installs one of his sons to serve his household as priest. 31 This seems yet another curiosity within our story, given that Judg 17:5 begins, as we have previously mentioned, by noting that “the man Micah had a shrine” ( ֺ ‫יכה לו‬ ָ ‫וְ ָה ִאישׁ ִמ‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫)בּית ֱא‬. ֵ So why is this already extant shrine only now, at the end of 17:5, getting a priest? Some scholars explain by comparing Gen 28:22 to suggest that Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬or “shrine” was a simple ‫מ ֵצּ ָבה‬, ַ or standing stone, which would not have required a priest to attend it; 32 the presence of a priest, whose primary function in our story is to serve as an oracular specialist (Judg 18:5),33 only becomes necessary, according to this account, 904F

905F

906F

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30 C. Meyers estimates, for example, that the average life expectancy for women in ancient Israel was about thirty years of age, as opposed to forty for men; see her Discovering Eve, 112–13; eadem, “The Family in Early Israel,” in L.G. Perdue et al., Families in Ancient Israel (The Family, Religion, and Culture; Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox, 1997), 1–47 (28). 31 Boling argues that the identification in 17:5 of one of Micah’s sons as the family’s priest is meant to be read metaphorically and also as foreshadowing (Judges, 259). It is metaphorical, as Boling sees it, in that “son” refers not to a biological son at all but to “son” as an unrelated affiliate of Micah’s family. More specifically, the reference to “son,” according to Boling (and here is the foreshadowing), anticipates the story of the levitical priest who becomes “like a son to Micah” in 17:7–13. The priest referred to in 17:5, that is, is the Levite who is not actually installed until 17:12. This interpretation seems, though, unnecessarily to override the plain meaning of the text, which we, along all other commentators, would take to mean that Micah’s original priest was his biological son who was then replaced by a priestly specialist of the levitical guild. See likewise Albertz, A History of Israelite Religion, 1, 100; J. Gray, Joshua, Judges, Ruth (NCB Commentary; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans; Basingstoke, UK: Marshall Morgan and Scott, 1986), 341; Gunn, Judges, 231; Martin, Judges, 186; Matthews, Judges and Ruth, 169; McCann, Judges, 120; Niditch, Judges, 182; and Soggin, Judges, 270. 32 T.N.D. Mettinger, No Graven Image: Israelite Aniconism in Its Ancient Near Eastern Context (ConBOT, 42; Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell International, 1995), 141, citing A. de Pury, Promesse divine et légende cultuelle dans le cycle de Jacob. Genèse 28 et les traditions patriarcales (Paris: J. Gabalda, 1975), 427–28. 33 Bray, Sacred Dan, 89, 95, 126, 138; M.S. Moore, “Role Pre-Emption in the

324

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

after the fabrication of Micah’s ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫אפו ֺד‬, ֵ when a divinatory expert, or priest, would be required to make inquiries using this (or these) item(s). 34 As we will discuss further below, however, we do think our text indicates that Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬or “shrine” is better understood as an actual shrine building, or at least a dedicated sacred space. We also think it most logical to presume that this sort of dedicated building or space must have had furnishings in it that would have called for the services of a divinatory specialist prior to the making of either the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬or the ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫אפו ֺד‬. ֵ So again we ask: why, in Judg 17:5, is Micah’s previously extant shrine only now getting a priest? Our suggestion is that the shrine is not getting a priest in 17:5 for the first time; rather, we propose the shrine is getting a new priest in 17:5 because the previous priest had somehow been separated from his post. More specifically, we suggest that just as Micah appointed his son to serve as priest of his household’s shrine in 17:5, the man who preceded Micah in the role of paterfamilias had previously appointed his son to serve as the shrine’s priest. More simply put: we suggest that Micah’s father appointed Micah to serve as priest of the shrine while the father was still alive. But among the transitions that ensue upon the occasion of the father’s death, Micah, according to our story’s logic, was required to assume leadership over the family and thus to pass the priestly role onto a son of the next generation. 35 The implication that follows is crucial for our argument regarding timing: that it is the recent death of Micah’s father and the change in Micah’s household role that stems from that death that drives the change in the priestly office. Still, there is an event that precedes even the changes in household leadership that Judg 17:5 presumes: Micah’s theft of his mother’s silver, her curse of the thief, the silver’s restoration, and the fabrication of the ‫ֶפּ ֶסל‬ ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ that results. Unlike the leadership transitions of Judg 17:5, this incident can hardly be said to be normative upon the occasion of a paterfamilias’s death. Nevertheless, we argue that the silver’s theft too is best explained as a consequence of the father’s just prior demise. More specifically, the father’s just prior demise could explain why Micah, at this particular point in his life, is said to try to take the silver to which his father, we have argued above, had previously laid claim. Perhaps, for example, we are meant to reason that as the household’s new paterfamilias, Micah felt 908F

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Israelite Priesthood,” VT 46 (1996), 316–29 (326). 34 Such an argument is put forward by Rofé, “‘No Ephod or Teraphim’,” 148. 35 See similarly Brichto, “Kin, Cult, Land and Afterlife,” 46, who writes—citing Judg 17:5—that “there is ample evidence that the role of priest in the Israelite family had at one time been filled by the firstborn.”

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

325

that the silver should by rights belong to him rather than his mother. Alternatively, we may be meant to think that Micah perceived that an opportunity to seize the silver more easily became available when its guardianship passed from his father and into female hands. In either case, however, it is the presumption of the father’s quite recent death and the transitions and even turmoil that ensue that explain most convincingly why Micah is said in 17:2 to have made a play for his mother’s silver hoard. This brings us back to the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that Micah is said to have made in 17:5, an action that we propose is part and parcel with all the other acts that we have just argued follow closely on the heels of Micah’s father’s death: the mother’s taking possession of her husband’s silver hoard; Micah’s attempting to claim that silver hoard for himself; Micah’s appointing his son to replace him, as we interpret, as the family’s priest; and, we now add, Micah fabricating of a ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬image to serve as a representation of his recently dead father. To put the matter another way: understanding ‫ְתּ ָר ִפים‬ in general as representations of a family’s deceased ancestors, as van der Toorn and Lewis have most recently argued, and understanding Micah’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in particular as a representation of his lately deceased father, elucidates in a compelling way an otherwise unexplained detail of Judges 17—what prompts Micah in 17:5 to make a ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in the first place? According to our interpretation: on the occasion of his father’s demise, Micah fabricated a ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬as a representation of his newly deceased ancestor. 36 We might even suggest that Micah fabricated this ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬as the transitional period that his father’s death had occasioned comes to a close: first, after the initial turmoil entailed by the silver’s theft had been resolved, but more important, after the initial rites of burial and mourning prescribed by Israelite ritual had come to an end and the dead father is finally ready to be enshrined as one of his family’s deceased ancestors. This leads us to consider the issue of Micah’s shrine. We suggest, first, that Judges 17–18 means us to envision Micah as placing the ‫ְתּ ָר ִפים‬ that he made of his recently deceased father in his ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ or shrine, that is mentioned in Judg 17:5 and that the ‫אפו ֺד‬, ֵ if it is a separate object from the ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ was placed in this shrine as well. In addition, we propose that the shrine should be taken to hold Micah’s mother’s ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫פּ ֶסל‬. ֶ All this is 910F

But cf. van der Toorn, “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 212, and van der Toorn and Lewis, “‫תּ ָר ִפים‬,” ְ 787, who offer a different account of Micah’s motivation: that since Hos 3:4 intimates that ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬are among the “standard furnishings of an ancient Palestinian temple,” Micah’s desire was to set up a “real” shrine as opposed to the more modest “family chapel” already extant in his household. 36

326

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

somewhat indicated by the fact that the account of Micah’s mother’s commissioning of her ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬in 17:4 and the account of Micah’s making of his ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬in Judg 17:5b bracket the phrase ֺ ‫יכה לו‬ ָ ‫וְ ָה ִאישׁ ִמ‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬in 17:5a, a juxtaposition that could readily suggest that all of these cultic appurtenances—the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫פּ ֶסל‬, ֶ the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ and the ‫ֵאפו ֺד‬ ‫—וּת ָר ִפים‬are ְ to be associated in terms of physical location. Likewise, in Judg 18:14, 17, 18, and 20, the terms ‫פּ ֶסל‬, ֶ ‫מ ֵסּ ָכה‬, ַ ‫אפו ֺד‬, ֵ and ‫( ְתּ ָר ִפים‬once rendered in their composite forms, ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫[ ֵאפו ֺד‬18:14] and otherwise as up to four seemingly independent items [18:17, 18, and 20]) appear together, which again could readily suggest that they were envisioned as housed together: more specifically, in the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ which, as we suggested briefly above, we would take to be a dedicated shrine room or shrine building that was within Micah’s household compound. To be sure, and as we have also already mentioned, some scholars have argued, based on Gen 28:22, that Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬is to be understood as a ‫ ַמ ֵצּ ָבה‬or standing stone—and consequently as a sacred object in and of itself, rather than being a repository for other sanctified items. 37 But this argument has not found much support in the literature, and it makes no sense if we are to understand Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ as we have just proposed, as housing at least two and up to four items. Nor is it really plausible to think that Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ or shrine, might refer to the sorts of small pottery shrines known from Syro-Palestinian archaeological excavations, such as the small, box-shaped pottery shrines that were meant to represent, in miniature, shrine buildings,38 or the small, cylinder-shaped 91F

912F

37 38

Above, n. 32. For exemplars and discussion, see, preeminently, J. Bretschneider,

Architekturmodelle in Vorderasien und der östlichen Ägäis vom Neolithikum bis in das 1. Jahrtausend: Phänomene in der Kleinkunst an Beispielen aus Mesopotamien, dem Iran, Anatolien, Syrien, der Levante und dem ägäischen Raum unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der bau- und der religionsgeschichtlichen Aspekte

(AOAT, 229; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag; Kevelaer: Butzon and Bercker, 1991), and B. Muller, Les “maquettes architecturales” du Proche-Orient Ancien: Mésopotamie, Syrie, Palestine du IIIe au Ier millénaire av. J.-C (2 vols.; Bibliothèque Archéologique et Historique, 160; Beirut: Institut Français d’Archéologique du Proche-Orient, 2002); also O. Keel, Symbolism of the Biblical World: Ancient Near Eastern Iconography and the Book of Psalms (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1997), 162 and Figs. 221 and 222; idem and C. Uehlinger, Gods, Goddesses, and Images of God in Ancient Israel (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1998), 162–63 and Figs. 188a–b; and Z. Zevit, The Religions of Ancient Israel: A Synthesis of Parallactic Approaches (London/New York: Continuum, 2001), 328– 43.

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

327

pottery shrine such as was found among the remains of Middle Bronze Age Ashkelon. 39 The scale of these pottery shrines argues against identifying Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬with these artifacts. For example, a tenth-eighth century BCE exemplar of the box-shaped pottery shrines that represent miniature shrine buildings that comes from Tell el-Far‘ah North stands only 20.8 cm high and is only 12.5–13.9 cm wide and 10.5 cm deep. 40 The cylindershaped pottery shrine found at Ashkelon is likewise quite small—it stands 25.2 cm tall and is 13.8 cm wide at its greatest diameter. 41 But this small size seems a problem if Micah’s shrine is to hold, as we have suggested above, 913F

914F

915F

39 L.E. Stager, “The House of the Silver Calf of Ashkelon,” in E. Czerny, I. Hein, H. Hunger, D. Melman, and A. Schwab (eds.), Timelines: Studies in Honour of Manfred Bietak, 2 (OLA, 149; Leuven/Paris/Dudley, MA: Uitgeverij Peeters en Departement Oosterse Studies, 2006), 403–10 (404–9); see also idem, “The Canaanite Silver Calf,” in L.E. Stager, J.D. Schloen, and D.M. Master (eds.), Ashkelon, 1: Introduction and Overview (1985–2006) (Harvard Semitic Museum Publications: Final Reports of the Leon Levy Expedition to Ashkelon; Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2008), 577–80 (577), and idem, “When Canaanites and Philistines Ruled Ashkelon,” BAR 17/2 (Mar/Apr 1991), 24–37, 40–43. The shrine is illustrated as well in King and Stager, Life in Biblical Israel, 173 (Ill. 84). 40 This shrine was originally published by A. Chambon, Tell el-Far‘ah 1: L’âge du fer (Paris: Éditions Recherche sur les Civilisations, 1984), 77–78 and Pl. 66:1; the measurements given here are taken from Muller, Les “maquettes architecturales” du Proche-Orient Ancien, 1, 53, 341. For further discussion (with drawings and/or photographs), see Bretschneider, Architekturmodelle in Vorderasien und der östlichen Ägäis, 129, 233, and Plate 90 (Fig. 79a–b); Dever, Did God Have a Wife? 114–15, 117; idem, “A Temple Built for Two: Did Yahweh Share a Throne with His Consort Asherah?” BAR 34/2 (March/April 2008), 54–62, 85 (62); Keel and Uehlinger, God, Goddesses, and Images of God, 162 and Figs. 188a–b; Muller, Les “maquettes architecturales” du Proche-Orient Ancien, 1, 53–54, 339–42, and also 2, Fig. 142–44; E.A. Willett, “Women and Household Shrines in Ancient Israel” (Ph.D. diss., University of Arizona, 1999), 123, 127; and Zevit, The Religions of Ancient Israel, 337–38. The date of the shrine is debated in these sources: Dever, Did God Have a Wife?, 115, gives a tenth-century BCE date, as does Willett, “Women and Household Shrines in Ancient Israel,” 118. Keel and Uehlinger, Gods, Goddesses, and Images of Gods, 162, assign the shrine to the late tenth century BCE. Muller, Les “maquettes architecturales” du Proche-Orient Ancien, 1, 53, proposes the tenth to ninth century BCE; Bretschneider, Architekturmodelle in Vorderasien und der östlichen Ägäis, 233, suggests a date of c. 900 BCE; Zevit, The Religions of Ancient Israel, 337, dates the shrine to the ninth or eighth century BCE. 41 These dimensions are taken from Stager, “The House of the Silver Calf of Ashkelon,” 405.

328

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

multiple objects, including Micah’s mother’s ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and Micah’s ‫ֵאפו ֺד‬ ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬. ְ Of course, just how significant this problem might be depends on how one interprets the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and ‫ות ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫אפו ֺד‬: ֵ as two, three, or four items. Still, we note that the Ashkelon shrine was specifically manufactured to hold only one piece, 42 an 11 cm long and 10.5 cm high cast-metal figurine of a bull-calf.43 The small size of the pottery shrines known from archaeological excavations also signals them as portable. Were Micah’s‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬portable, however, we would have expected this shrine to have been included among the list of religious treasures that the men of Dan are said to have stolen from Micah in Judges 18. Yet, although the list of Micah’s religious treasures is confused across its multiple iterations (and so, for example, as we have already mentioned, ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and ‫ ַמ ֵסּ ָכה‬are treated as separate objects in Judg 18:17 and 18 while seemingly as a single figurine in Judg 17:4 and 18:14), in none of the four lists of Micah’s stolen treasures (18:14, 17, 18, and 20) is the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬included. This suggests again that Micah’s ‫ֵבּית‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬was not a small and thus easily heisted pottery shrine—and in addition suggests yet again that the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬was not a ‫מ ֵצּ ָבה‬, ַ or at least not the sort of small-scale (pillow-sized) ‫ ַמ ֵצּ ָבה‬that the phrase ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬is used to describe in Gen 28:22. Rather, Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬is better interpreted as a fixed, dedicated, sanctified space. This is, in fact, precisely how ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬is used in every biblical text other than Gen 28:22 in which the term appears, including a verse that is almost immediately antecedent to ָ Gen 28:22, Gen 28:17. There, Jacob specifically describes the place (‫)מקו ֺם‬ of Bethel as a ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬. ֵ Likewise in Ps 55:15 (in most of the Bible’s ְ a ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ English versions, 55:14), the Psalmist is said to walk into (‫)בּ‬ and in 2 Chr 34:9, ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬is used as a synonym for the Jerusalem temple. As to the specific nature of Micah’s dedicated and sanctified shrine space: we could perhaps think of a “cult corner” or “cult niche,” a “part of a room or courtyard” within a house that was designated for religious purposes and that thus contained a constellation of religious objects and ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬of Judg 17:4–5. furnishings44—such as, say, the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ These “cult corners” or “cult niches” have been identified within the 916F

917F

918F

42 Stager, “The House of the Silver Calf of Ashkelon,” 405, writes, “a doorway cut into the side of the cylinder [...] is just large enough for the calf to pass through” (emphasis ours). See similarly idem, “The Canaanite Silver Calf,” 577. 43 These dimensions are taken from Stager, “The House of the Silver Calf of Ashkelon,” 405; idem, “The Canaanite Silver Calf,” 579. 44 This definition of “cult corner” or “cult niche” is taken from Zevit, The Religions of Ancient Israel, 123.

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

329

archaeological remains of several ancient Israelite houses. 45 Yet while it is certainly possible that Judg 17:4–5 means for us to envision that Micah’s 45 A fragment of a second model house shrine from Tell el-Far‘ah North, for example, was discovered in that site’s House 440 (see Muller, Les “maquettes architecturales” du Proche-Orient Ancien, 1, 53, 339–40, and 2, Fig. 142; Zevit, The Religions of Ancient Israel, 337), in conjunction with several arguably cultic artifacts that belonged to that household’s “cult corner,” which was located in the house’s central courtyard (Loci 440 and 460). These artifacts included a figurine body of a nursing woman, the head of a horse figurine, and a figurine of the “woman holding a disk” type (Zevit, The Religions of Ancient Israel, 241). The date of these domestic cult remains is debated: they are from the tenth century BCE according to Dever, Did God Have a Wife? 115, 117; to Muller, Les “maquettes architecturales” du Proche-Orient Ancien, 1, 53–54 (with regard to the model-shrine fragment); and to Willett, “Women and Household Shrines in Ancient Israel,” 118. But they date from the ninth century BCE according to Zevit, The Religions of Ancient Israel, 241. Similar materials from household “cult corners” or “cult niches” were also found in other houses at Tell el-Far‘ah North (B. Alpert Nakhai, “Varieties of Religious Expression in the Domestic Setting,” in A. Yasur-Landau, J.R. Ebeling, and L.B. Mazow [eds.], Household Archaeology in Ancient Israel and Beyond [Culture and History of the Ancient Near East, 50; Leiden/Boston: E.J. Brill, 2011], 347–60 [354]), and remains from household “cult corners” or “cult niches” have been found as well at other sites, for example: (1) the twelfth- and eleventh-century BCE village of Khirbet Raddana (Dever, Did God Have a Wife? 115; B. Alpert Nakhai, Archaeology and the Religions of Canaan and Israel [ASOR Books, 7; Boston: American Schools of Oriental Research, 2001], 173–74); (2) tenth-century BCE Megiddo (Nakhai, Archaeology and the Religions of Canaan and Israel, 177, citing Y. Shiloh, “Iron Age Sanctuaries and Cult Elements in Palestine,” in F.M. Cross [ed.], Symposia Celebrating the Seventy-Fifth Anniversary of the Founding of the American Schools of Oriental Research (1900–1975) [Zion Research Foundation Occasional Publications, 1–2; Cambridge, MA: American Schools of Oriental Research, 1979], 147–57 [149]); (3) ninth- and eighth-century BCE Beersheba (Willett, “Women and Household Shrines in Ancient Israel,” 142, 150; Zevit, The Religions of Ancient Israel, 175–76); (4) Level A (ninth- to seventhcentury BCE) at Tell Beit Mirsim (J.S. Holladay, Jr., “Religion in Israel and Judah Under the Monarchy: An Explicitly Archaeological Approach,” in P.D. Miller, P.D. Hanson, and S.D. McBride [eds.], Ancient Israelite Religion: Essays in Honor of Frank Moore Cross [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987], 249–99 [276]); (5) eighth-century BCE Tel Halif (J.W. Hardin, “Understanding Domestic Space: An Example from Iron Age Tel Halif,” NEA 67 [2004], 71–83 [76–77, 79]); and (6) eighth-century BCE Hazor (Holladay, “Religion in Israel and Judah Under the Monarchy,” 278– 79). A short but very good summary of the most recent discussions of these various data can be found in L.A. Hitchcock, “Cult Corners in the Aegean and the

330

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

mother’s ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and Micah’s ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬were stationed in this sort of “shrine corner” or “shrine niche,” we believe a close reading of the larger Judges 17–18 pericope suggests Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ or shrine, was actually a designated shrine room or shrine building, separate from Micah’s house proper. Two aspects of the Micah story in particular indicate this to us. The first is that the entity that our Judges text calls “the house of Micah,” or ‫ֵבּית‬ ‫יכה‬ ָ ‫מ‬/‫הוּ‬ ִ ְ‫יכי‬ ָ ‫בּית ִמ‬, ֵ was undoubtedly made up of more than just Micah’s personal domicile. This is indicated in Judg 18:13–14, for example, in which we are told that the six hundred members of the tribe of Dan who are passing by ‫יכה‬ ָ ‫( ֵבּית ִמ‬v 13), or “the house of Micah,” on their way to conquer and take as their tribal fiefdom the northern city of Laish, are urged by the five advance scouts who journey with them—and who in their previous scouting journey had stayed with Micah—to steal the ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ֵאפו ֺד‬ ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫וּפ ֶסל‬ ֶ located ‫( ַבּ ָבּ ִתּים ָה ֵא ֶלּה‬v 14), literally “in these houses” (plural), or, more idiomatically, at least as we (along with several other commentators) would interpret, “in these buildings” that make up an extended household compound that comprises “the house of Micah.” After the Danites do indeed steal this household’s religious treasures, moreover, they are pursued (unsuccessfully) by “the men who were in the houses that were with the house of Micah” (‫יכה‬ ָ ‫ם־בּית ִמ‬ ֵ ‫ ָ;ה ֲאנָ ִשׁים ֲא ֶשׁר ַבּ ָבּ ִתּים ֲא ֶשׁר ִﬠ‬Judg 18:22), or, more idiomatically (at least, again, as we and several other commentators would interpret), “the men whose homes were within the extended household compound of Micah.” 46 These men we take to be Micah’s sons, possibly his grandsons, and possibly unrelated servants, slaves, and other sojourners—although not the Levite whom Micah is said to have appointed in Judg 17:7–13 to replace his son as his family’s priest. Rather, this Levite flees with the Danites in 18:20, having been persuaded by them that it would profit him more to serve as priest for an entire tribe than it has serving as priest for only one household. We further propose that there are indications within our story that among the multiple buildings that comprise Micah’s household compound is a dedicated shrine room or shrine building—Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫—בּית ֱא‬ ֵ although we must admit that the text is not definitive in this regard. Still, we argue that this makes the best sense of several otherwise enigmatic verses 920F

Levant,” in A. Yasur-Landau, J.R. Ebeling, and L.B. Mazow (eds.), Household Archaeology in Ancient Israel and Beyond (Culture and History of the Ancient

Near East, 50; Leiden/Boston: E.J. Brill, 2011), 321–45 (321–22). 46 See similarly Meyers, “The Family in Early Israel,” 17; Stager, “The Archaeology of the Family,” 22; van der Toorn, Family Religion, 197–98; and Zevit, The Religions of Ancient Israel, 626.

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

331

within Judges 17–18. In Judg 18:3, for example, we are told that the five advance scouts who were passing through Ephraim during their journey to the far north to seek land for the Danites were in “the house of Micah,” ‫ֵבּית‬ ‫יכה‬ ָ ‫מ‬, ִ when they heard the voice of the Levite who had become Micah’s priest in 17:7–13 and recognized it—probably because the Levite is said to have come to Ephraim from Bethlehem and so spoke, like the Danites, with the accent and speech patterns of the South rather than those of the North. 47 The five Danite scouts then “turn aside” (‫ )וַ יָּ סוּרוּ‬to speak to the Levite “there” (‫)שׁם‬. ָ But where is “there,” or to where, specifically, would the Danites have turned, given that the Levite is said in Judg 17:12 to have been, like them, in “the house of Micah” (‫יכה‬ ָ ‫?)בּית ִמ‬ ֵ Our suggestion is that the Levite was indeed in “the house of Micah” in the sense that he was resident in one of the several buildings that made up Micah’s household compound and that it was there that Micah’s Danite visitors encountered him when they turned aside from the actual “house of Micah”—meaning Micah’s personal domicile—to speak to him. We interpret similarly the grammatically difficult passage found in 18:15, in which the company of the six hundred Danite men on their way to capture Laish follows the advice of the original scouts to detour toward the ‫יכה‬ ָ ‫ית־הנַּ ַﬠר ַה ֵלּוִ י ֵבּית ִמ‬ ַ ‫בּ‬, ֵ literally “the house of the Levite youth, the house of Micah.” Because this phrase approaches the nonsensical, some commentators delete the second half of it, the reference to “the house of Micah,” as an extraneous gloss.48 But we might better imagine a point in the scribal transmission of this verse in which a ‫בּ‬, ְ meaning “in,” that preceded the phrase ‫יכה‬ ָ ‫בּית ִמ‬, ֵ or “the house of Micah,” was mistakenly dropped. 49 If so, then the original text would be rendered ‫יכה‬ ָ ‫ ֵבּית־ ַהנַּ ַﬠר ַה ֵלּוִ י ְבּ ֵבּית ִמ‬, “the house of the Levite youth that was in the house of Micah,” or, as we interpret, the house of the Levite youth that was one of the buildings that made up the multi-building household compound of Micah.50 921F

92F

923F

924F

G.A. Rendsburg, Linguistic Evidence for the Northern Origin of Selected Psalms (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990); idem, Israelian Hebrew in the Book of Kings (Bethesda, MD: CDL Press, 2002). 48 So, e.g., the editors of the BHS, note on Judg 18:15; Martin, Judges, 193; and Moore, Judges, 397. 49 This emendation is also suggested by Boling, Judges, 264; Niditch, Judges, 47

175, seems to embrace such a reading as well. However, Boling’s overall understanding of what is meant by ‫יכה‬ ָ ‫ ֵבּית ִמ‬differs significantly from ours. 50 See likewise J. Blenkinsopp, “The Family in First Temple Israel,” in L.G. Perdue et al., Families in Ancient Israel (The Family, Religion, and Culture; Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox, 1997), 48–103 (52), and L.G. Perdue, “The Israelite and Early Jewish Family,” in ibid, 163–222 (175). See also M.W.

332

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

When this verse in Judges 18:15 is read in conjunction with 18:17, moreover, what is implied is that it was the “house of the Levite youth” that the Danites entered in order to steal the compound’s religious treasures. Yet we have already suggested, based on the juxtapositions of the phrases ‫ֶפּ ֶסל‬ ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬, ַ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ and ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬in 17:4–5 and based on the occurrence of the terms ‫פּ ֶסל‬, ֶ ‫מ ֵסּ ָכה‬, ַ ‫אפו ֺד‬, ֵ and ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in conjunction in 18:14, 17, 18, and 20, that Micah’s household’s religious treasures were housed within Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ or “shrine.” Therefore, we now propose that Judg 18:15’s “house of the Levite youth” and Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬were one and the same: that Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬where the ‫וּמ ֵסּכָ ה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ֵאפו ֺד‬ were kept was a dedicated shrine room or shrine building that was the Levite’s domain within Micah’s larger household compound. 51 Indeed, from at least one premonarchic Israelite village, early twelfth- through mideleventh-century BCE Ai (et-Tell), we have archaeological evidence of precisely this sort of dedicated shrine room—a space that was, like Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ or shrine, associated with a multi-building household compound and that held religiously precious objects.52 Among the Iron Age II remains of Tell en-Naṣbeh (Stratum III), A.J. Brody has somewhat similarly identified a room—Room 513—that, although it was also used as a storeroom, held a shrine that Brody theorizes would have served the members of its extended family’s five-building household compound. 53 925F

926F

927F

Bartusch, Understanding Dan: An Exegetical Study of a Biblical City, Tribe and Ancestor (JSOTSup, 379; London/New York: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003),

175 (note on v. 15), who suggests that “it may also be possible to understand ‘Levite’ as a construct form” and thus to read “to the house of the young man, the Levite of the house of Micah.” This rendering would seemingly suggest, as we do here, a separate “house” for the Levite within the household compound of Micah. 51 See similarly Bray, Sacred Dan, 63; Miller, The Religion of Ancient Israel, 68; and especially Soggin, Judges, 272, 274. 52 Although excavated by the French archaeologist J. Marquet-Krause in the 1930s and labeled by her as “un lieu saint” or a cult room (Les fouilles de ͑Ay (etTell), 1933–35 [Bibliothèque Archéologique et Historique, 45; Paris: Geuthner, 1949], 23), this room’s religious character has only recently been thoroughly analyzed, especially by Zevit, in his The Religions of Ancient Israel, 153–56. See also the brief discussions of Dever, Did God Have a Wife? 113, and Nakhai, Archaeology and the Religions of Canaan and Israel, 173 (Nakhai is in addition responsible for bringing to our attention the quote from Marquet-Krause cited above). 53 A.J. Brody, “The Archaeology of the Extended Family: A Household Compound from Iron II Tell en-Naṣbeh,” in A. Yasur-Landau, J.R. Ebeling, and L.B. Mazow (eds.), Household Archaeology in Ancient Israel and Beyond (Culture and History of the Ancient Near East, 50; Leiden/Boston: E.J. Brill, 2011), 237–54,

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

333

But to suggest this answer to the interpretive question of how, exactly, we are to understand the nature of Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ or shrine, is to raise immediately another interpretive problem, one that is somewhat analogous to the interpretive problem we discussed above regarding Micah’s appointing his son as priest at the end of Judg 17:5. Recall that in considering that issue, we noted the need to identify who had served as Micah’s household’s priest prior to the son’s installation, since the statement that begins Judg 17:5, “the man Micah had a shrine” ( ‫וְ ָה ִאישׁ ִמי ָכה‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫)לו ֺ ֵבּית ֱא‬, supposes an extant shrine that, as we have now demonstrated, was an actual dedicated space to which some priestly attendant must have been assigned preceding the son’s appointment. It seems in turn logical to presume that this already existent shrine must have had something already in it—and more specifically, we have proposed, extant furnishings that required this previous priest’s ministrations. Yet, if Judg 17:4–5 intimate that the only furnishings of Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ or shrine, were the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬that Micah’s mother had commissioned according to Judg 17:4 and the ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬that Micah made according to 17:5, then what was in this shrine building before the fabrication of these objects? The most plausible answer, we submit, rests on the grammatical ambiguity of the term ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that we noted already in our opening remarks: the fact that ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬can have both a singular and plural meaning. In Judges 17–18, we suggest, both are used, at different points in the story. 54 In Judg 17:5, as we would interpret, Micah makes a single ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬and an associated ‫( ֵאפו ֺד‬however one wants to interpret that term), which he places in his household shrine, alongside his mother’s ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫פּ ֶסל‬. ֶ In Judges 18, the Danites abscond not only with this single ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ its associated ‫אפו ֺד‬, ֵ and the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫פּ ֶסל‬, ֶ but also with several other ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that stood, as we would interpret, in Micah’s shrine prior to Micah’s making of his single ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in Judg 17:5. These other ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬we take to be representations of Micah’s previously deceased ancestors, including, presumably, individuals such as Micah’s great-grandfather, his grandfather, perhaps some great-grand-uncles and grand-uncles. In fact, because Judg 18:14, 17, 18, and 20, in listing the treasures that the Danites stole from Micah’s shrine, invoke nothing other than the terms ‫פּ ֶסל‬,ֶ ‫מ ֵסּ ָכה‬, ַ ‫אפו ֺד‬, ֵ and ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ we cannot help but conclude— assuming we accept that the shrine must have had furnishings antecedent to 928 F

especially 252–54. 54 Somewhat analogous is the way ‫ ַבּיִת‬in the Judges 17–18 story carries both a singular and plural meaning, as the personal “house” or domicile of Micah that stands within the multi-building, “house of Micah” compound. See van der Toorn, Family Religion, 197–98.

334

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

its becoming the repository for the mother’s ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and Micah’s ‫ֵאפו ֺד‬ ‫—וּת ָר ִפים‬that ְ ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in 18:14, 17, 18, and 20 has a plural referent. Such a suggestion, moreover, could plausibly explain why, in at least 18:17, 18, and 20, the terms ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬and ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬are rendered separately, as opposed to the composite phrase ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬that is found in 17:5, for while ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ֵאפו ֺד‬ in 17:5 refers, as we have interpreted, to the single ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬Micah appropriately made upon the death of his father, along with its associated ‫אפו ֺד‬, ֵ 18:17, 18, and 20 refer to that or perhaps some other ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬in conjunction with ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬with which it is not as directly associated. These are the multiple ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that represent Micah’s previously deceased ancestors. Note, however, that Micah’s making of a ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in 17:5 to augment the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that, according to our interpretation, are already extant in the shrine only makes sense if we are to understand the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬as ancestor figurines and not as household gods. After all, why, in a household already in possession of a collection of gods, would Micah need to fabricate another? Only if we interpret Micah’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬to be the latest in a series of ancestor figurines, each produced upon the occasion of a household patriarch’s death, can we elucidate in a compelling way that the contents of Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ or shrine, prior to the addition of the items Micah and his mother made in Judg 17:4–5, would have been: the ancestor figurines of the household’s past patriarchs. Indeed, it may be that while, above, we have consistently translated ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬as “shrine,” a better translation would be the “house [‫]בּית‬ ֵ of the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫א‬,” ֱ with ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬serving here, as elsewhere in the Bible (preeminently in Gen 31:19, 30, 32, 34, and 35), as a synonym for ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬and denoting a family’s representations of its deceased ancestors. Interesting to note in this regard are the comments of E. BlochSmith, who has drawn on the work of B. Halevi to suggest that Jacob’s ‫ֵבּית‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬in Gen 28:22 might not be consecrated to God/Elohim, as commentators usually assume, but rather a marker for Jacob’s deified ִ ‫ ֵבּית ֱא‬of Micah’s ancestors, located on his family’s ground.55 The ‫�הים‬ household, as we interpret, might be similarly understood: as a repository for (among other things) several generations of Micah’s household’s 92F

E. Bloch-Smith, “The Cult of the Dead in Judah: Interpreting the Material Remains,” JBL 111 (1992), 213–24 (220), citing B. Halevi, “ ‫עקבות נוספים לפולהן‬ ‫אבות‬,” Beth Mikra 64 (1975), 101–17 (114); see also E. Bloch-Smith, Judahite Burial Practices and Beliefs about the Dead (JSOTSup, 123; JSOT/ASOR Monograph Series, 7; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1992), 122. BlochSmith’s comments become even more interesting were one to follow B. Halpern (“Levitic Participation in the Reform Cult of Jeroboam I,” JBL 95 [1976], 31–42 [36–37]) and identify Bethel as the location of Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬. ֵ 55

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

335

ancestor figurines, to which Micah—upon the death of his father—added that paterfamilias’s image.

2. “YOU HAVE TAKEN MY ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫” ֱא‬ Yet as we have seen, Micah’s housing of his paterfamilias’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in his household’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫בּית ֱא‬, ֵ along with his mother’s ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and his family’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬of past generations, is, by Judg 18:16–17, disrupted, as the men from Dan who pass through Micah’s Ephraimite homestead on their way to take Laish plunder Micah’s household shrine and take its treasures. Of these, the most precious from the Danites’ point of view is surely the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫פּ ֶסל‬. ֶ After all, it is this object (if we interpret ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬in the singular) or one of these two objects (if we interpret ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬in the plural) that becomes the focus of the sanctuary that the Danites, once they have taken Laish, establish for themselves (presuming here, with almost all commentators, that the ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬the Danites enshrine for themselves according to Judg 18:30– 31 is somehow equivalent to what is described elsewhere in Judges 17–18 using the compounded phrase ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫)פּ ֶסל‬. ֶ Indeed, if for no other reason than material worth, the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬would seem to be by far the most valuable of the objects that the Danites purloined (as metals like silver were relatively scarce in ancient Israel and hence remarkably precious). Nevertheless, as Micah and his household entourage pursue the thieving Danites, he does not challenge them regarding the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬that his mother had commissioned. Instead, Micah accuses the Danites of stealing “my ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬that I made” (Judg 18:24). Most logically this is a reference to the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬of his deceased father that Micah manufactured in 17:5 after the father’s demise (and perhaps the associated ‫אפו ֺד‬, ֵ depending on how one understands that term), given, we can once more note, the way in which ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫א‬, ֱ arguably with the meaning deceased spirits in general and a family’s deceased ancestors in particular, is used elsewhere in the Bible as a synonym of ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬. ְ Note moreover that the term ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫א‬, ֱ like ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ can have either a singular or plural referent. Thus, while ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬as a synonym of ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in Gen 31:19, 30, 32, 34, and 35 refers to multiple ‫( ְתּ ָר ִפים‬the grammar of 31:32, 34 requires this), ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬in Judg 18:24 can just as readily refer to the single ‫( ְתּ ָר ִפים‬according to our interpretation) that Micah fabricated in Judg 17:5. Indeed, the verb used for Micah’s manufacture of the ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬in Judg 17:5 and the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬about which he speaks in Judg 18:24 is the same, ‫ﬠ ָשׂה‬, ָ “to make.” Of course, ‫ ָﬠ ָשׂה‬is a very common Hebrew lexeme. Nevertheless, within the context of Judges 17–18, an audience hearing of Micah’s “making” an ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬in 18:24 would most readily think, we maintain, of the ‫וּת ָר ִפים‬ ְ ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬that Micah “made” in Judg 17:5.

336

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

But why is it the loss of his father’s ‫( ְתּ ָר ִפים‬and perhaps the associated ‫)אפו ֺד‬ ֵ that is so devastating for Micah, and not, say, the theft of the more valuable ‫וּמ ֵסּכה‬ ַ ‫?פּ ֶסל‬ ֶ One answer might be that since Micah’s mother has used only two hundred of her eleven hundred pieces of silver to make her cast-metal figurine(s), Micah imagines that he can easily replicate the lost ‫וּמ ֵסּכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and so need not give priority to its/their theft. But we suggest something more is at play here. More specifically: although we have heretofore considered only the role of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬and the deceased ancestors that they represent in rituals of divination, we propose now to take into account deceased ancestors’ function in cementing their descendants’ claim to their families’ ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬. This term is commonly translated as “inheritance,” but as is well attested in the scholarly literature, its meaning is in fact much more multivalent and complex. Indeed, so multivalent and complex is the term ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬, as well as the concepts associated with it, that no one definition can adequately gloss every occurrence of the word in the Hebrew Bible, much less the use of the cognates of ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬elsewhere in ancient Near Eastern literature. Still, it is clear that in several instances in the Bible, ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬ does refer to inheritance in the specific sense of the land each Israelite family claimed perpetually to hold as its inalienable patrimony. 56 The biblical witness speaks clearly, moreover, to the need to bury a family’s ancestors together in a tomb associated with this ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬, even if this required extraordinary measures at the time of death or long after. The premier case is the imperative that the Israelites of the Exodus generation feel, according to the biblical account, to move the body of the long-dead Joseph out of Egypt so that he might be interred “in the portion of the field that Jacob had purchased from the sons of Hamor, the father of Shechem,” which “belonged to the descendants of Joseph as a ‫( ”נַ ֲח ָלה‬Josh 24:32). Likewise, David is said to go to significant effort to exhume the bones of the dead King Saul and his son Jonathan from their original tomb in Jabesh-Gilead so that they might be reburied in the territory of Saul’s tribe, Benjamin. More specifically, they are reburied in the tomb of Saul’s father Kish in Zela (2 Sam 21:13–14), a town which we can take, based on Josh 18:28, to be the ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬assigned to the Saulides within the Benjaminites’ tribal 930F

In addition to the standard lexica, dictionaries, and encyclopedias, we have found especially helpful the discussions of G. Gerleman, “Nutzrecht und Wohnrecht: Zur Bedeutung von ‫ אחזה‬and ‫נחלה‬,” ZAW 89 (1977), 313–25; N.C. Habel, The Land is Mine: Six Biblical Land Ideologies (OBT; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1995), passim, but especially 33–35; P.D. Hanson, The People Called: The Growth of Community in the Bible (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1986), 63–65; and Lewis, “The Ancestral Estate,” 598–99, 605–7, with extensive references. 56

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

337

allotment. Passages such as Josh 24:30 and Judg 2:9 similarly attest to the necessity for burial within one’s family’s ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬. 57 But why is burial within the family ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬so important? As BlochSmith has argued, “ancestral tombs served to reinforce the family claim to the patrimony, the ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬.” That is, Bloch-Smith goes on to say, “the existence of the tomb constituted a physical, perpetual witness to ownership of the land,” or, more simply put, “the tomb [...] constituted a physical claim to the patrimony.” 58 Likewise, H.C. Brichto, in a seminal article whose very title, “Kin, Cult, Land and Afterlife—A Biblical Complex,” captures perfectly the intricate interrelationship that existed between an Israelite family, its deceased ancestors, and the family’s land, claims that “the burial place as the ancestral home” attaches the family “to the soil.” 59 “The land represented the family,” van der Toorn affirms, “joining the ancestors with their progeny,” and he adds, “an important reason why the family land was inalienable was the fact that the ancestors were buried there.” 60 A family’s tomb, in short, inexorably tied that family to its patrimony, co-mingling the ancestors’ remains with the very earth of their descendants’ homestead. Indeed, so tied are the ancestors’ remains to their family’s homestead that, according to Lewis, in a brilliant reading of 2 Sam 14:16, the ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬itself can be described as the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫נַ ֲח ַלת ֱא‬, literally (interpreting ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬here as deceased spirits in general and a family’s deceased ancestors in particular) “the patrimony of the ancestors” or “the ancestral estate.” 61 Yet just as a family’s forebears, or ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫א‬, ֱ safeguarded their descendants’ possession of their ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫נַ ֲח ַלת ֱא‬, or their ancestral estate, through the interring of their bones in the family’s tomb, so too did the figurative representations of these deceased ancestors, the ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ also called the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫א‬, ֱ participate in the safeguarding of the familial patrimony through their presence in their descendants’ homes or extended household compounds. Indeed, this association of the ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬/‫ים‬ ְ ‫�ה‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬with the safeguarding of a family’s patrimony was long ago argued by those who 931F

932F

93F

934F

935F

57

These latter two references were brought to our attention by Bloch-Smith,

Judahite Burial Practices, 111; see similarly eadem, “The Cult of the Dead in

Judah,” 222, and Lewis, “The Ancestral Estate,” 608. Cf. as well Josh 24:33; Judg 8:32; 16:31; and 2 Sam 2:32 (as cited by Bloch-Smith, Judahite Burial Practices, 115) and, as Bloch-Smith elsewhere points out (“Resurrecting the Iron I Dead,” IEJ 54 [2004], 77–91 [87]), Judg 12:7 and 1 Kgs 11:43 (// 2 Chr 9:31). In addition see, as noted by Lewis (“The Ancestral Estate,” 608), 1 Sam 25:1 and 1 Kgs 2:34. 58 Bloch-Smith, “Cult of the Dead in Judah,” 222. 59 Brichto, “Kin, Cult, Land and Afterlife,” 5. 60 Van der Toorn, Family Religion, 199. 61 Lewis, “The Ancestral Estate.”

338

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

used Nuzi texts concerning the ilānu to argue that the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬were household gods. To be sure, the specific interpretation of the Nuzi texts that took the ilānu and kindred ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬to be emblems, and even jural guarantors, of inheritance rights within a family, particularly in the case of property that was being passed to an otherwise irregular heir, 62 has been discounted, most pointedly by M. Greenberg in 1962.63 Yet Greenberg still admits that the Nuzi ilānu pertained to issues of family continuity (concerning, especially, the designation of each generation’s paterfamilias). In this, he has been followed by M.A. Morrison, who has similarly affirmed that the ilānu were important markers of family continuity, “passed down from a father to his heir.” More important for our purposes though, Morrison, while like Greenberg eschewing any hypothesis that relates the Nuzi ilānu explicitly to inheritance rights, argues that the ilānu nevertheless were, in some fundamental way, “linked to the immovable property of the family.” Morrison continues: “[Their] transmission [...] from one generation to another represented the continuity of the family line [...] [they] were not only the tie between the family unit and its property but also the very heart of the family.”64 Of course, Morrison, who wrote in 1983, still understood the ilānu to be household gods. Yet despite the revised understanding of the ilānu as ancestor figurines that we have followed here, Morrison’s observations regarding their tie to the family’s property should still hold. Indeed, given the analysis of a family’s ancestors that we have discussed above—that one of the ancestors’ key roles within the network of reciprocity that ties them to their living descendants was to help safeguard those descendants’ claim to their property or ‫—נַ ֲח ָלה‬an interpretation of the ilānu as ancestor figurines helps to explain why these images should be associated with a family’s property in a way that interpreting the ilānu (or in Israelite tradition, the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫א‬/‫ים‬ ֱ ‫)תּ ָר ִפ‬ ְ as household gods never made clear. We therefore 936F

937F

938F

62 See, e.g., Smith, writing in 1931 (“What Were the Teraphim?” 34): the “house gods had a legal significance; the possessor of them had a claim de iure to property.” 63 M. Greenberg, “Another Look at Rachel’s Theft of the Teraphim,” JBL 81 (1962), 239–48, especially 241–46. 64 M.A. Morrison, “The Jacob and Laban Narrative in Light of Near Eastern Sources,” BA 46 (1983), 155–64 (161); see similarly van der Toorn, “Gods and Ancestors in Emar and Nuzi,” 38, who writes of the ilānu both that “the heir in possession of these gods was, in title and in fact, the head of the household” and that the ilānu “represented the identity of the family.” Likewise at Emar, van der Toorn writes (p. 43), “the main heir [...] will obtain the main house, and with the main house also the gods.”

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

339

conclude that the ilānu/‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬/‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ as “symbolic representations of the human dead,” 65 served not only the divinatory function within their descendants’ households on which we have heretofore focused. In addition, these ilānu/‫�הים‬ ִ ‫א‬/ ֱ ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬helped bind their family to its ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬. Van der Toorn concurs: “The possession of the teraphim may indeed be regarded as a kind of legitimization [...] by keeping the cult of its ancestors, the family proclaimed its right to the land.” 66 This understanding of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬and the deceased ancestors they represent as guarantors of the ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬, moreover, compellingly addresses the question we posed at the beginning of this part of our discussion: why Micah, in 18:24, accuses the Danites of stealing only—as we have interpreted—his ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬and perhaps the associated ‫ ֵאפו ֺד‬and why he does not make note, again at least as we have interpreted, of the theft of the ‫ֶפּ ֶסל‬ ַ ‫פּ ֶסל‬, ֶ as we have seen, is (are) ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬. ַ 67 The answer is that while the ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ surely very precious, it is (or they are) replaceable. The warrant to Micah’s ְ however, is not so easily ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬that is safeguarded by his father’s ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, restored. 93F

940F

941F

3. “AND RACHEL STOLE HER FATHER’S ‫” ְתּ ָר ִפים‬ We suggest in addition that this understanding of the role the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬play in legitimating a family’s claim to its ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬can help explain the story of Rachel’s theft of her father Laban’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in Gen 31:19–35. In that story, as is well known, Jacob, after many long years in Paddan-Aram laboring on behalf of his maternal uncle and father-in-law Laban, has finally resolved to return, along with his two wives and many children, to his family’s homestead in Canaan. Before departing, though, Rachel steals her father ְ Laban’s ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬. No reason is given in the Genesis account for this theft, although suggestions among commentators have been numerous. 68 According to the 942F

Van der Toorn, “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 216. Van der Toorn, Family Religion, 235. 67 This contra van der Toorn, “Nature of the Biblical Teraphim,” 211, who sees the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬of Judg 18:24 as the “costly” ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬and who writes that “in comparison to the theft of this image, the ephod and the teraphim were the lesser loss.” 68 In addition to the opinions listed here, see the catalogs assembled by Greenberg, “Another Look at Rachel’s Theft,” 239–40; A.-M. Korte, “Significance Obscured: Rachel’s Theft of the Teraphim: Divinity and Corporeality in Gen. 31,” in J. Bekkenkamp and M. de Haardt (eds.), Begin with the Body: Corporeality, Religion and Gender (Leuven: Peeters, 1998), 157–82 (161–63); and K. Spanier, 65 66

340

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

Genesis Rabbah, Rachel stole Laban’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬with a good end in mind—to

bring to an end her father’s worship of worthless idols. A less generous midrashic interpretation, found in the Tanḥuma, takes Rachel’s motivation to be selfish: she feared that the ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ given their divinatory function, could be used to reveal to her father her family’s flight and their route and so abet Laban in his pursuit. 69 Among moderns, some argue that Rachel steals the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬because Laban has otherwise not furnished his daughters with a dowry, which Gen 31:14–16 might suggest that they are owed. 70 Others somewhat similarly suggest that Rachel, in stealing Laban’s ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ “attempts to retain some stake [...] in her father’s household” and “in addition [...] seeks their [the tĕrāpîm’s] apotropaic protection, since she is most likely pregnant at the time of her departure from Haran.” 71 For others still, Jacob has essentially become an adopted son of Laban during his long sojourn in Paddan-Aram and he therefore has a right—that Rachel exercises on his behalf—to Laban’s ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ 72 just as the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬generally were “passed down from a father to his heir” (to quote Morrison once 943F

94F

945F

946F

“Rachel’s Theft of the Teraphim: Her Struggle for Family Primacy,” VT 42 (1992), 404–12 (405). 69 J. Dan, “Teraphim: From Popular Belief to a Folktale,” in J. Heinemann and S. Werses (eds., on behalf of the Institute of Jewish Studies), Studies in Hebrew Narrative Art throughout the Ages (ScrHier, 27; Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1978), 99–106 (99–100). 70 M. Heltzer, “New Light from Emar on Genesis 31: The Theft of the Teraphim,” in M. Dietrich and I. Kottsieper (eds.),“Und Mose schrieb dieses Lied

auf”: Studien zum Alten Testament und zum alten Orient (Festschrift für Oswald Loretz zur Vollendung seines 70. Lebensjahres mit Beiträgen von Freunden, Schülern und Kollegen) (AOAT, 250; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 1998), 357–62 (362);

Morrison, “The Jacob and Laban Narrative,” 162. Although dowries, as we have noted above, are not the norm within Iron Age Israelite marriages, they are described occasionally within the Bible as a component within marriages that Israelite men contract with non-Israelite women (e.g., 1 Kgs 9:16). 71 Cooper and Goldstein, “Cult of the Dead and Entry into the Land,” 295. 72 Proponents of this view are catalogued in Greenberg, “Another Look at Rachel’s Theft,” 240, and also Lewis, “Teraphim,” 1597, although note that neither Greenberg nor Lewis concurs with this position. Rather, in Greenberg’s opinion, Rachel steals her father’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬because (in the words of Korte, “Significance Obscured,” 163), “it was customary for women to take familiar household or family gods along on journeys or when moving house”; according to Lewis (“Teraphim,” 1599), Rachel steals Laban’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬for reasons having to do with their divinatory function, perhaps—as indicated in the Tanḥuma long ago—to prevent her father Laban “from using them [...] to detect Jacob’s escape.”

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

341

more). 73 Yet another explanation proposes that Rachel steals the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬to preserve her own matrilineage in the face of the overwhelmingly patriarchal Israelite society into which she has married. 74 Rachel’s theft has also been interpreted as “part of her continuing struggle for primacy within Jacob’s household,” as she sought to “prevail over her sister” and secure “the appointment of her son as his father’s chief heir.” 75 While all of these explanations are of interest, we feel they suffer by grounding their analyses only in the story of Jacob and his marriages and not considering the larger Genesis narrative in which the Jacob-RachelLeah story is embedded: the story of the multiple generations of the Abrahamic family tree, beginning already in Gen 11:26 with the genealogical notices regarding Abram’s/Abraham’s father Terah and Abram’s/ Abraham’s two brothers Nahor and Haran. Interestingly, we are not told in this text which of Terah’s three sons is the oldest and thus which is his father’s presumptive heir, but the son Haran, according to Gen 11:28, predeceased his father Terah and so at any rate was removed from his father’s line of inheritance. Abram/Abraham presumably also inherits nothing from his father as—according, at least, to the biblical chronology (see Gen 11:26, 32; 12:4)—he leaves Haran while his father is still alive to follow Yahweh’s command that he go to Canaan and settle there. Nahor, who remains resident with Terah in Haran, would thus seem to stand as the sole heir to his father’s role as family paterfamilias and also as sole heir to his family’s Haran estate. This paterfamilias position and the family’s property in Haran should next pass on to Nahor’s heir, and although one might presume from the list of Nahor’s sons in Gen 22:20–24 that this would be Nahor’s firstborn, Uz, the Genesis story in fact focuses on the son who is apparently Nahor’s youngest, Bethuel, and then on Bethuel’s son and heir, Laban. Indeed, recall that Jacob, when he is sent by his father to Paddan-Aram many years later, is specifically sent to the house of Bethuel, Rebekah’s father, and of Laban, Rebekah’s brother (Gen 28:2), a clear indication of how that family’s leadership and inheritance was being passed from the household’s father to the son. The ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ we have now repeatedly suggested, are likewise transmitted as a part of the inheritance passed from a household’s father to a son; Laban’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that Rachel steals, that is, should be taken as the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that have been passed down from Terah through Nahor to the Bethuelite family line. In addition, they should be seen, like all ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ as 947 F

948F

94F

Morrison, “The Jacob and Laban Narrative,” 161. Korte, “Significance Obscured,” 170. 75 Spanier, “Rachel’s Theft of the Teraphim,” 405. 73 74

342

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

supernatural safeguards that bind Terah’s descendants to their family’s patrimony in Haran. In Gen 31:14, however, Rachel and Leah declare themselves no longer bound to the Terahite family’s patrimony in Haran; indeed, they quite specifically state that they no longer have a ‫ נַ ֲחלָ ה‬in their paternal home. Yet what guarantee of a ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬do Rachel and Leah have in the land of Canaan to which they are relocating? More important, what guarantees a ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬to the family of Terahite descendants who already live in the land of Canaan—and, perhaps most important from Rachel’s perspective, what will guarantee a ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬to her two sons, one as yet unborn? To be sure, Genesis posits a grant to a ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬in Canaan that is quite potent—a promise from Yahweh—but a promise that has been delivered only in private visions to the chosen members of Abraham’s line (Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob) and that, moreover, involves a long delay until its realization (400 years according to Gen 15:13; 430 years according to Exod 12:40). Might the text thus imagine that Rachel would seek a more immediate assurance that the Abrahamic branch of Terah’s family tree is guaranteed a patrimony? Laban’s ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ we suggest, were stolen to fulfill this function. To be sure, Laban’s ‫—תּ ָר ִפים‬guarantors ְ of Terah’s descendants’ land grant in Haran—can only fictionally serve as safeguards of Abraham’s descendants’ claims to the land of Canaan. But just as today, cases abound around the world of individuals who use fake land deeds to assert ownership of a piece of property to which they otherwise have no legitimate title,76 so too, we suggest, does our text imagine that Laban’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬can be used to assert their possessors’ ownership of a piece of property that is otherwise only tenuously denoted as theirs. Indeed, because the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬Rachel stole were at least tied to Abraham’s family—if not to the 950F

76 See, e.g., K. Allen, “Kenya Faces Resettlement Problem,” BBC News, Nairobi, April 24, 2008, available on-line at http://news.bbc. co.uk/2/hi/africa/7366037.stm; S.A. Ferguson and T.C. King, “Taking Up Our Elders’ Burdens as Our Own: African American Women against Elder Financial Fraud,” National Women’s Studies Association Journal 18 (2006), 148–69, especially 158; M. Hatcher, “Dirty Deeds: Criminals Have a New Way to Steal Homes,” The Miami Herald, State and Regional News, August 18, 2006, available on-line at http://www.lexisnexis.com/ us/lnacademic; L. Namubiru, “Is Your Land Title Genuine?” originally published in New Vision (Kampala, Uganda), November 2, 2007, and available on-line at http://allafrica.com/stories/200711030012.html; and “Hawk’s Eye on Land Deals,” The Hindu Business Line, August 22, 2008, available on-line at http://www.thehindubusinessline.com/life/2008/ 08/22/stories/2008082250080300.htm.

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

343

land in Canaan that family had settled—they may have seemed to an ancient Israelite audience to be more legitimate safeguards for binding the Abrahamic line to their Canaanite patrimony than something like the fake land deeds used fraudulently today. One might even argue that the story of Rachel stealing the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬of the descendants of Nahor and housing them with the descendants of Abraham is used by the biblical writers to put forward one of their prime assertions about Abraham: that despite the narrative arc that has the family’s inheritance handed down through Nahor, Bethuel, and Laban after Terah’s death, Abraham’s descendants are the lineage’s true heirs. Under the terms of this interpretation, the authors of Genesis use the story of Rachel’s theft to demonstrate how the Terahite patrimony, in the form of its ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ comes to be restored to its true owners. One might immediately object, of course: what of Gen 35:2–4, where, “under the terebinth that was near Shechem,” Jacob is said to dispose of all the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬that are in the possession of his household and others of his entourage? If, as many commentators propose, these ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ֱא‬ were, or included, the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬Rachel had stolen from Laban, 77 then is not our thesis that these ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬serve in the biblical tradition as safeguards of the Abrahamic family’s claim to the land of Canaan utterly undermined? We admit the answer to this question would have to be yes. But we must point out that it is not necessarily the case that the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬of Gen 35:2–4 were, or included, Rachel’s ‫;תּ ָר ִפים‬ ְ some commentators have suggested rather that these ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬might be divine figurines taken as spoil by the Jacobites after their defeat of Shechem. 78 Editorially, the immediate juxtaposition of the 951F

952F

77 Brichto, “Kin, Cult, Land and Afterlife,” 46, n. 74; Cooper and Goldstein, “Cult of the Dead and Entry into the Land,” 295; V.P. Hamilton, The Book of Genesis, Chapters 18–50 (NICOT; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1995), 375; Korte, “Significance Obscured,” 175; G. von Rad, Genesis: A Commentary (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1961), 332; B. Vawter, On Genesis: A New Reading (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1977), 362; and C. Westermann, Genesis 12–36: A Commentary (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1981), 551. J. Skinner, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Genesis (ICC; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1910), 423, and E.A. Speiser, Genesis: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB, 1; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1983), 270, also seem inclined toward this position (although they do not state so clearly); R. Alter, Genesis: Translation and Commentary (New York/London: W.W. Norton, 1996), 195, similarly equivocates. 78 G.J. Wenham, Genesis 16–50 (Word Bible Commentary, 2; Dallas, TX: Word Books, 1994), 324; see also N. Sarna, Genesis: The Traditional Hebrew Text with the New JPS Translation (The JPS Torah Commentary; Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1989), 240, who writes that “the idols are probably household

344

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Shechem story in Genesis 34 with the story of the Jacobites’ putting aside their ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫( ֱא‬at least in the Bible as it has come down to us) might suggest this. Even more of note is that the ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬of Gen 35:2–4 are exclusively referred to as ‫�הי ַהנֵּ ָכר‬ ֵ ‫א‬, ֱ “foreign ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫א‬.” ֱ And while the adjective “foreign” might possibly allude to the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬Rachel took from PaddanAram, the fact of the matter is that nowhere else in the Bible is the phrase ‫�הי ַהנֵּ ָכר‬ ֵ ‫ ֱא‬or its variants (see Deut 31:16; 32:12; Josh 24:20, 23; Judg 10:16; 1 Sam 7:3; 2 Chr 33:15; Ps 81:10 [in most of the Bible’s English versions, 81:9]; Jer 5:19; Mal 2:11) used to refer to ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬. ְ More important, nowhere else in the Bible are ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬described as “foreign.” Only once, indeed, are they associated with “foreignness” in any way (in Ezek 21:26, where they are used by the king of Babylon along with other divinatory practices). Instead, even in passages where their use is condemned (e.g., 2 Kgs 23:24), the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬are treated as Israelite. This, for us, throws the argument regarding Gen 35:2–4 somewhat more in favor of those scholars who see the ‫�הי ַהנֵּ ָכר‬ ֵ ‫ ֱא‬as something other than Rachel’s ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬. ְ Her ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ we continue to suggest, are brought to Canaan and used by the biblical writers to fulfill one of the standard functions of the ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ serving as otherworldly safeguards of Abraham’s family’s claim to its ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫נַ ֲח ַלת ֱא‬. Yet other objections might still persist. For example, if Rachel’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬did in fact serve, in the conceit of the biblical writers, as such important safeguards of the Abrahamic family’s claim to its ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫נַ ֲח ַלת ֱא‬, then why do they never again appear in Genesis (or elsewhere in the biblical text)? In response, we note, first, that it is not just Rachel’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that never again appear in the biblical text; once the Jacob and Laban narrative ends, Genesis’s “Haran connection” also draws to a close. Yet until this point in the Genesis narrative, Nahor’s descendants have played an extremely important role, especially by serving as a source for wives for Isaac and Jacob. Why should they so suddenly disappear? The answer is that as a result of Rachel’s theft of the Terahite ancestor figurines, the complex of elements Brichto identified for us in his article’s title—kin, cult, land, and afterlife—are all united in the “promised land.” Thereby, the story line of a divided lineage—as represented both by competing descriptions of the legitimate Terahite ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬and by dueling claims to Terah’s ‫—תּ ָר ִפים‬comes ְ to an end. More simply put, the dramatic tension that kept Abraham’s family tied to Haran, so to speak, is resolved, and so the story’s Haran-based characters—whether the living relatives still resident in Haran or the deceased ancestors embodied in the ‫—תּ ָר ִפים‬can ְ exit the stage. Thereby they give way to what is, from the Bible’s perspective, the next great act that gods found among the spoils of Shechem or carried by the captives,” yet adds, “the phrase may also include the terafim that Rachel stole.”

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

345

the unification of ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬, and the Abrahamic family line has made possible: the story of Jacob’s twelve sons and the lineage and ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬that through them and their descendants is eventually established for Israel’s twelve tribes.

4. CONCLUDING REFLECTIONS These conclusions about the role of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬in Genesis 31 as guarantors, in a fictional sense, of Jacob’s family’s claim to the ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬of Canaan prompt us, finally, to return to Judges 17–18 and ponder whether there are some last nuances that are played out in that text concerning the role of the ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬. ְ For example, are there intimations that even though the object(s) of primary value to the Danite thieves who plundered Micah’s ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ֵבּית ֱא‬ was/were the mother’s ‫וּמ ֵסּ ָכה‬ ַ ‫פּ ֶסל‬, ֶ Micah’s ‫—תּ ָר ִפים‬both ְ the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that Micah had made and the other ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬of his household shrine—were of appeal to the Danites as well, in order that these ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬might serve the Danites as fictional guarantors of the land they took for themselves in Laish? Crucial to note here is the reason why, according to Judg 18:1, the Danites were attempting to lay claim to Laish in the first place: because at that point in Israelite history, no ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬had come to the Danites “among the tribes of Israel.” Why that is, Judg 18:1 does not say, but the text seems to reflect the same (or at least a similar) presumption as that found in Judg 1:34: that the ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬of the Danites should have been, as in Josh 19:40–46, territory in the southwestern part of Israel, but that the Danites either failed to take this land (so Judg 1:34) or lost it (so Josh 19:47), because, according to Judg 1:34, of the resistance put forward by the Canaanite population already settled in those parts. In this respect, Judg 18:1 differs from other Danite tales in Judges, most notably the tale of the Danite Samson in Judges 13–16, which does speak of Samson’s clan, at least, as having established a family burial place (and so, presumably, a ‫ )נַ ֲח ָלה‬within a Danite patrimony in Israel’s southwest. Indeed, commentators frequently acknowledge that Judg 1:1–2:5 and Judges 17–18, 19–21 seem to belong to a different redactional stratum than Judg 2:6–16:31.79 Whereas 2:6–16:31, for example, and especially 3:7–16:31, “explore Israel’s early history by tracing the careers of heroic and charismatic individuals,” using a “recurring, covenantally oriented frame,” Judg 1:1–2:5 and Judges 17–18, 19–21 “tend not to feature 953F

79 See, for example, Boling, Judges, 29–38; Gray, Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 188–94; Martin, Judges, 5–9; Matthews, Judges and Ruth, 6–11; Niditch, Judges, 8–13; Soggin, Judges, 4–5 (albeit all with slightly different divisions of the book’s main parts).

346

BENJAMIN D. COX & SUSAN ACKERMAN

heroic individuals” and “themes concerning the transience of power are especially strong.” 80 Thus, writes S. Niditch, we find in Judges 18, “a tale characterized by an aggressive, conqueror’s demeanor.” 81 Which is to say, as we have already intimated: we find in Judges 18 an aggressive account of the Danites’ efforts to conquer a ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬that was not theirs and to which, according to the logic of the text, they had little grant, this as opposed, in our text’s conceit, to the territory associated with the Danites in the southwest. This ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬, Judg 1:34 and especially Josh 19:40–46 imply, was given to the Danites by Joshua, acting on behalf of Yahweh, as part of the distribution of all the lands of Canaan to the tribes of Israel. We might even say that in the view of Josh 19:40–46 and Judg 1:34, Yahweh, as the “god of the fathers,” or the ancestral god, stood as the supernatural guardian who legitimated the Danites’ claim to their ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬in the south. 82 But within our narrative’s framework, no otherworldly agent links the Danites as emphatically to the ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬that they sought to capture in the north; there is only the Levite priest’s assurance to the five spies sent by the Danites to seek territory for the tribe’s habitation that “your way is under the watch of Yahweh” (‫ ;נ ַֹכח יהוה ַדּ ְרכְּ ֶכם‬Judg 18:6). The Levite’s assurance, moreover, might be said to have given the Danite spies only a minimum of comfort, for as C. van Dam points out, such a secondhand endorsement is a far cry from the more typical language used to report Yahweh’s response to an oracular inquiry: the much more emphatic claim that “Yahweh answered” or “Yahweh said” (Judg 1:2; 20:18, 23, 28; 1 Sam 10:22; 23:2, 4, 11, 12; 30:8; 2 Sam 2:1; 5:19, 23).83 It is thus easy to understand why, from the Danites’ point of view, a more authoritative land grant is desirable. Micah’s ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ we might suppose, were stolen to fulfill this function. But why, one might immediately ask, would the Danites need to make use of representations of Micah’s Ephraimite ancestors who are tied to Ephraimite land, rather than use their own tribal ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬, who at least— like Laban’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬as we described Rachel’s use of them in Section 3 of our paper above—would have been tied to Danite lineages, even as these lineages’ members sought to use their ancestors’ ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬disingenuously to safeguard their claims to land other than those ancestors’ ‫ ?נַ ֲח ָלה‬The answer 956F

957F

Niditch, Judges, 12, 180. Niditch, Judges, 180. 82 Note in this regard Lewis’s provocative suggestion that the concept of the “god of the fathers” might be productively rethought in the light of the notion of ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ ֱא‬designating “spirits of the dead.” See Lewis, Cults of the Dead, 178–79. 83 C. van Dam, The Urim and the Thummim: A Means of Revelation in Ancient Israel (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1997), 216. 80 81

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

347

to this question is to recall that according to the narrative stratum of which Judges 18 is a part, the Danites, unlike Terah’s family, had not been able to take possession of their original ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬: their need, that is, was not to replace the ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬of Haran with the ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬of Canaan, but to establish a ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬where none had existed before. But without a pre-existent ‫נַ ֲחלָ ה‬, the complex of interlocking elements of “kin,” “cult,” “land,” and “afterlife” on which the potency and even the presence of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬depends collapses. If there is no “land,” or ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬, for example, there is no tomb of the ancestral “kin” that lies within it. Consequently, there are no forebears properly ensconced in the “afterlife” who are able to be made present through the “cult” of the ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬. ְ Without, however, ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ and when in addition there is no ancestral tomb, there is no agency for legitimating land-grant claims, nor the ability to access necromantic oracles. Indeed, we should remember in this regard that the five original Danite scouts, when they passed through Ephraim during their search for a Danite home, asked Micah’s Levite priest to deliver on their behalf an oracle regarding their mission’s potential success. Why had they not asked this, though, of their own ‫?תּ ָר ִפים‬ ְ For the same reason, we suggest, that they ended up stealing Micah’s family’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬to serve as fraudulent safeguards of the Danites’ claim to their northern fief: due to their lack of a pre-existing ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬and an associated ancestral tomb, the Danites were without the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that were their entombed ancestors’ counterparts. Thus, they had to make do with Micah’s Ephraimite ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ both as divinatory revelators and guarantors of their ‫נַ ֲחלָ ה‬-to-be, no matter how less than desirable these Ephraimite ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬might have been. Or, to put the matter another way: if the analysis of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬as a “tie between the family unit and its property” (to quote yet again Morrison) ְ fraudulent ‫—תּ ָר ִפים‬were ְ something the is correct, 84 then ‫—תּ ָר ִפים‬even Danite clans, in order to lay claim to new land in Laish, would feel the need to possess. Indeed, the text of Judg 18:27, in which the account of the Danites’ conquering Laish comes just after the notice that these Danites stole “that which Micah made,” could well suggest an association between the Danites’ taking possession of Laish and their possessing Micah’s ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬. ְ Note in this regard that the verb used in 18:27 for “to make” is, as in 18:24, ‫ﬠ ָשׂה‬, ָ and thus again, as in 18:24, the image of the ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬that Micah “made” in 17:5 is evoked. 85 958F

95F

Morrison, “The Jacob and Laban Narrative,” 161. Although note two medieval Hebrew manuscripts, which identify—under the influence of Judg 18:31?—the object that Micah made according to 18:27 as the ‫ ֶפּ ֶסל‬of 17:4. See Bartusch, Understanding Dan, 176, note on v. 27. 84 85

348

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That said, it pushes credulity to suppose that an ancient Israelite audience would grant that Ephraimite ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬could have been used by the Danites to help secure a patrimony to which they could otherwise only tenuously lay claim. But in this regard we must recall the polemical nature of the Judges 17–18 story that we noted in our opening remarks and in particular Brettler’s contention that the story’s polemic is not directed just against the Danite sanctuary and its priesthood, but also against the tribe of Dan itself: in Brettler’s reading (following M. Noth), because of the Danites’ violent conquest of the peaceful residents of Laish. 86 The Danites are thereby derided for their generally cutthroat and callow dispositions; indeed, in 18:25, the text describes them in practically these terms: as ‫ֲאנָ ִשׁים ָמ ֵרי‬ ‫נֶ ֶפשׁ‬, “bitter-souled men.” Based on the Danites’ illogical appropriation of Ephraimite ‫תּ ָר ִפים‬, ְ we might in addition characterize these boorish cads by using R. Alter’s description of their fellow Danite Samson as depicted in the redactional stratum found in Judg 2:6–16:31: as men whose “formidable brawn will not be matched by brain, or even by a saving modicum of common sense.” 87 Under the terms of this interpretation, the incredulity that an ancient Israelite audience might well express regarding the text’s subplot that we have proposed—whereby the Danites irrationally attempt to use Micah’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬to secure a ‫—נַ ֲח ָלה‬would become testament to the text’s success at discrediting the Danites’ acumen, which is itself part and parcel of the text’s larger goal of discrediting the Danites in general. If this is the case, then one last nuance in Judges 17–18 has come into play, as the story of the Danites’ misguided taking of Micah’s family’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬is used in conjunction with Judges 17–18’s other attacks on Dan to promote even further the text’s polemical assault on Dan’s sanctuary and Dan’s people. Still, we must be clear that there is no definite reference to the ‫ְתּ ָר ִפים‬ in the account of the Danites’ conquest of Laish in 18:27 and thus no firm link drawn in the text between the Danites’ taking of Laish and an attempt to use Micah’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬as guarantors of this newly claimed ‫נַ ֲח ָלה‬. Hence the caution that we expressed in our introductory remarks: that our concluding comments about the potential appeal of Micah’s ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬to the tribesmen of Dan would be the product of considerable speculation. Nevertheless, we cannot help but wonder whether the Judges 17–18 account of Dan’s laying 960F

961F

Above, n. 18. R. Alter, “How Convention Helps Us Read: The Case of the Bible’s Annunciation Type-Scene,” Prooftexts 3 (1983), 115–30 (124); see also the catalogue of other scholars’ unflattering descriptions of Samson collected by D.M. Gunn, “Samson of Sorrows: An Isaianic Gloss on Judges 13–16,” in D.N. Fewell (ed.), Reading Between Texts: Intertextuality and the Hebrew Bible (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox, 1992), 225–53 (225). 86 87

MICAH’S TERAPHIM

349

claim to a ‫ נַ ֲח ָלה‬in Laish draws on ancient Israel’s closely interwoven complex of “kin,” “cult,” “land,” and “afterlife” in order to portray the Danites as guilty—among other things—of loutishly seeking to manipulate their culture’s venerable ‫ ְתּ ָר ִפים‬traditions.

THE STRUCTURE OF ZECHARIAH 8 AND ITS MEANING ELIE ASSIS,

BAR ILAN UNIVERSITY Chapters 1–8 and 9–14 of Zechariah are considered by most scholars today to be two separate prophetic books; only chs. 1–8 are attributed to the postexilic time of the beginning of the 5th century BCE. 1 Most scholars believe that Zech 7–8 should be regarded as one unit. This conviction is based mainly on the fact that 8:19 is the prophet’s answer to the people’s question in 7:1–3 as to whether fasting for the destruction of the Temple should be continued even after its construction had begun. 2 This approach is based on two main arguments, the first of which is formal, and the second of which concerns content. The formal argument is that 7:1 opens with a new formula that includes a date, as do 1:1 and 1:7. The second argument is that the people’s question to the priests in 7:3 is answered in 8:19. However, these arguments are not decisive. First, the formal opening in 7:1 can relate 1 According to most scholars, Zech 9–14 and Zech 1–8 were composed by different authors at different times. Today there is an increasing tendency to see thematic connections between the two parts. For a detailed survey on this topic, see: M. J. Boda, “From Fasts to Feasts: A Literary Function of Zechariah 7–8,” CBQ 65 (2003), 390–407. 2 See F. Horst, Die Zwölf kleine Propheten (HAT, Tübingen: Mohr, 1938), 232–233; J.G. Baldwin, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi (Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries; London: Tyndale Press, 1972), 85, 140; R. Hanhart, Sacharja (BKAT, XIV/7,6; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener 1975), 452–456; W. Rudolph, Haggai-Sacharja 1–8 - Sacharja 9–14 - Maleachi (KAT, 13; Gütersloh: Mohn, 1976), 62, 151; D. L. Petersen, Haggai, and Zechariah 1–8, A Commentary (OTL; Philadelphia: Westminster), 1984, 122; M. Butterworth, Structure and the Book of Zechariah (JSOTSup, 130; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1992), 70–72; M. H. Floyd, Minor Prophets, (Part 2; FOTL; Grand Rapids and Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2000), 412; Boda, “From Fasts to Feasts: A Literary Function of Zechariah 7–8,” 393–395.

351

352

ELIE ASSIS

to ch. 7 alone. Second, of all the diverse material of ch. 8, only one verse (v. 19) relates closely to ch. 7. Only in a limited way can all of ch. 8 be related to the topic of the fasts in ch. 7. It is probable that the topic of fasting in ch. 7 received additional notice in 8:19 but the rest of the chapter does not deal with this topic. Moreover, 8:19 does not answer the question of the people in 7:3 as to whether they should continue to fast; it merely promises that in the future, the days of fasting will become days of feasts. It does not specify whether or not the people should now fast.3 I agree with those who understand that the question about continuing to observe the fast days in 7:1–3 is answered in 7:4–14.4 In a recent article I suggested that God is indifferent to the question of whether the people should continue to fast or not, instead God wants the people to pay attention to social justice, as the prophet spells out in 7:8–14. In that article I claimed that Zech 8 concludes the previous chapters of the book, and that its role is to summarize the main contents of the prophecies of chs. 1–7.5 Indeed, Zech 8 exhibits unique formal and thematic features. 6 There are different opinions regarding the composition of ch. 8. Some argue that Zech 8 is a unified work,7 while others claim that it is a 3 For a survey of the various opinions regarding the relationship between chs. 7 and 8, see E. Assis, “Zechariah 8 As Revision and Digest of Zechariah 1–7,” JHS 10 (2010), 1–26, article 15, esp. 1–8. http://www.arts.ualberta.ca/JHS/Articles/ article_143.pdf, repr. in E. Ben Zvi (ed.), Perspectives in Hebrew Scriptures VII: Comprising the Contents of Journal of Hebrew Scriptures, vol. 10 (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press, 2011), 421–445. 4 With some variations the following scholars believe that answer to the question is given within ch. 7. See C. L. Meyers and E. M. Meyers, Haggai, Zechariah 1–8 (AB; New York: Doubleday, 1987), 389–394; M. A. Sweeney, The Twelve Prophets (vol. 2; Berit Olam; Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 2000), 642; and Baldwin, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, 144. 5 See Assis, “Zechariah 8 As Revision and Digest of Zechariah 1–7.” 6 According to Horst, ch. 8 is an independent unit that includes independent prophetic elements. See Horst, Die Zwölf kleine Propheten, 205. 7 This approach was proposed by A. Petitjean, Les oracles du Proto-Zacharie: un programme de restauration pour la communauté juive après l’exil (Études bibliques; Paris: Gabalda, 1969), 365–383. He believes that the time of the chapter is prior to 538 BCE. Others who believed that the chapter is a unified entity are R. A. Mason, “The Prophets of Restoration,” in R. Coggins, A Phillips, and M. Knibb (eds.), Israel’s Prophetic Tradition: Essays in Honour of Peter R. Ackroyd (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982), 148–149; E. W. Conrad, Zechariah (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), 131–150; and B. G. Curtis, Up the

Steep and Stony Road: The Book Zechariah in Social Location Trajectory Analysis (SBLAB, 25; Atlanta: SBL, 2006), 151. Mittmann views 8:1–8 as one unit. See S.

THE STRUCTURE OF ZECHARIAH 8 AND ITS MEANING

353

collection of different prophecies, perhaps even from different dates. 8 Our task here concerns the order and structure of the prophecies of ch. 8. Is the chapter a collection of ten different prophecies, or are these prophecies part of a well planned composition? Is the order of the prophecies arbitrary or do the prophecies form a structure, in which their order is deliberate and meaningful? Chapter 8 opens with a new introduction by way of formulaic phrase: “The word of the Lord of hosts came to me, saying” (v. 1). This opening, with minor variations, appears several times in earlier chapters: 1:1, 4:8, 6:9, 7:4, and 8:1. Later in this chapter are ten short, separate prophecies, each of which opens with the formulaic phrase “Thus says the Lord of Hosts,” with the exception of the second prophecy in v. 3, which begins with an abbreviated version: “Thus says the Lord.” 9 The ten prophecies are, therefore: 1) 8:2; 2) 8:3; 3) 8:4–5; 4) 8:6; 5) 8:7–8; 6) 8:9–13; 7) 8:14–17; 8) 8:19; 9) 8:20–22, and 10) 8:23. The ten prophecies are divided into three parts by formulaic openings and closings. The seventh prophecy, in v. 17, concludes with “says the Lord,” after which v. 18 begins with an opening phrase corresponding to the beginning of the chapter (8:1): “And the word of the Lord of hosts came to me, saying.” 10 The fourth prophecy, in v. 6, contains another Mittmann, “Die Einheit von Sacharja 8:1–8,” in W. Claassen (ed.), Text and Context: Old Testament and Semitic Studies for F. C. Fensham (JSOTSup. 48; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1988), 269–282. 8 Horst, Die Zwölf kleine Propheten, 205, 233–237; W.A.M. Beuken, Haggai – Sacharja 1–8, Studien zur Überlieferungsgeschichte der frühnachexilischen Prophetie (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1967), 156–183; Baldwin, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, 14; Rudolph, Haggai-Sacharja 1–8 - Sacharja 9–14 – Maleachi, 143–152; Petersen, Haggai, and Zechariah 1–8, A Commentary, 297; Y. Hoffman, “The Issue of the Fasts in the Book of Zechariah (7:1–6; 8:19) and the Formation of National Memory, ” in Z. Talshir, S. Yona, and D. Sivan (eds.), Homage to Shmuel: Studies in the World of the Bible (Jerusalem: Ben Gurion University Press and Mosad Bialik, 2001), 112–145; J. D. Nogalski, Literary precursors to the Book of the Twelve (BZAW, 217; Berlin, de Gruyter, 1993), 239–240; For a discussion on the composition of Zechariah 7–8, see Boda, “From Fasts to Feasts: A Literary Function of Zechariah 7–8,” 390–407. 9 This opinion is held by Meyers and Meyers, Haggai, Zechariah 1–8, 428–433, 442–445; P. L. Redditt, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi (New Century Bible; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995), 84. 10 This division into two is adopted by many, see e.g. Rudolph, Haggai-Sacharja 1–8 - Sacharja 9–14 – Maleachi, 150–151; Meyers and Meyers, Haggai, Zechariah 1–8, 428–429; Petersen, Haggai, and Zechariah 1–8, A Commentary, 296–297; S. Amsler, A. Lacocque, R. Vuilleumier, Aggee, Zacharie 1–8, Zacharie 9–14,

354

ELIE ASSIS

concluding phrase: “says the Lord of hosts.” 11 These formulaic phrases demarcate the three main sections of the collection of prophecies. The first section contains the first four prophecies (vv. 2–6), the second contains the fifth, sixth, and seventh prophecies (vv. 7–17), and the third is comprised of the eighth, ninth, and tenth prophecies (vv. 18–23). 12

THE PROPHECIES OF THE FIRST PART: THE FIRST, SECOND, THIRD, AND FOURTH PROPHECIES

THE FIRST PROPHECY (V. 2) ‫דוֹלה‬ ָ ְ‫דוֹלה וְ ֵח ָמה ג‬ ָ ְ‫אתי ְל ִציּוֹן ִקנְ ָאה ג‬ ִ ֵ‫כֹּה ָא ַמר יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת ִקנּ‬ ‫אתי ָלהּ׃‬ ִ ֵ‫ִקנּ‬ “Thus says the Lord of hosts: I am jealous for Zion with great jealousy, and I am jealous for her with great wrath.”

The first prophecy indicates God's great jealousy and anger towards the nations, and implies their punishment for their actions against Zion. Although the verse does not make explicit the object of God’s anger, clearly His wrath is directed against the nations. 13 This is also the case in the parallel verse in 1:14–15: “I am jealous for Jerusalem and for Zion with a 974F

Malachie (CAT, 11; Genève: Labor et Fides, 1988), 121, 124; Sweeney, The Twelve Prophets, vol. 2, 646, 653. 11 For “says the Lord of hosts,” as a closing formula, see S. A. Meier, Speaking of Speaking: Marking Direct Discourse in the Hebrew Bible (VTsup, 46; Leiden:

Brill, 1992), 225. This formula is found in v. 11 as well, but it is found in the middle of the prophecy, and should be regarded there as a quotation formula, that is, to emphasize that these are the words of the prophet. This conclusion stands against Clark’s opinion that it should be regarded here as a closing formula. See D. J. Clark, “Discourse Structure in Zechariah 7:1–8:23,” The Bible Translator, 36 (1985), 329. Against Clark, see also Meier, op. cit. 12 For dividing the chapter according to formal formulae, see Clark, “Discourse Structure in Zechariah 7:1–8:23,” 328–335. Mitchell offers the following division: 8:1–8, 9–17, 18–23; H. G. Mitchell, Haggai, Zechariah (ICC; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1912), 206–215. It should be noted that no explanation is provided for his decision. 13 Mitchell, Haggai, Zechariah, 206; Meyers and Meyers, Haggai, Zechariah 1–8, 411; Redditt, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, 84; Mason has raised doubts regarding the explanation of this verse, Mason, “The Prophets of Restoration,” 222.

THE STRUCTURE OF ZECHARIAH 8 AND ITS MEANING

355

great jealousy; and I am very displeased with the nations that are at ease; for I was but a little displeased, and they helped for evil.”14

THE SECOND PROPHECY (V. 3) ‫יר־ה ֱא ֶמת‬ ָ ‫רוּשׁ ָל ִם וְ נִ ְק ְר ָאה ִﬠ‬ ָ ְ‫ל־ציּוֹן וְ ָשׁ ַכנְ ִתּי ְבּתוֹ� י‬ ִ ‫כֹה ָא ַמר יהוה ַשׁ ְב ִתּי ֶא‬ ‫יר־ה ֱא ֶמת וְ ַהר־יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת ַהר ַהקּ ֶֹדשׁ׃‬ ָ ‫רוּשׁ ַל ִם ִﬠ‬ ָ ְ‫י‬ “Thus says the Lord: I will return to Zion, and will dwell in the midst of Jerusalem; Jerusalem shall be called the faithful city; and the mountain of the Lord of hosts shall be called the holy mountain.”

The second prophecy describes the return of the Lord to His dwelling place in Jerusalem. Following the establishment of God’s presence in Jerusalem, the city’s status changes and it is once again called the “faithful city,” while the mountain of God will be called the “holy mountain.” The appellation “holy mountain” for the house of God is found in many places, such as Isa 11:9, 27:13, 56:7, 57:13, 65:11, 66:20; Jer 31:22; Ezek 20:40; Joel 2:1 and 4:17; Obad 16; Zeph 3:14; Pss 2:6, 3:5, and others. 15 The term “faithful city” for Jerusalem evokes Isaiah’s epithet—prostitute—after Jerusalem had been called the “faithful city” (Isa 1:21, 26). 16 An analogous expression also appears in Jer 31:22: “Habitation of Righteousness” (‫)נוה צדק‬. In referring to Jerusalem as the “faithful city,” the prophet maintains that those sins of the past that Isaiah had laid out before the people no longer exist, and that Jeremiah’s promises concerning Jerusalem’s transformation into the “Habitation of Righteousness” during the time of the redemption are still valid and will come to pass. The second prophecy continues the first: After God is jealous for Jerusalem and removes the nations from its midst, He can dwell within the city. 976F

97F

For the correlations between the two sources, see Rudolph, Haggai-Sacharja 1–8 - Sacharja 9–14 – Maleachi, 147; Meyers and Meyers, Haggai, Zechariah 1–8, 411; R. L. Smith, Micah-Malachi (WBC; Waco: Word,1984), 231; Redditt, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, 84; R. Mason, Preaching the Tradition: Homily and Hermeneutics After Exile (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 221– 14

222.

15 For this term in Isaiah, see: W.A.M. Beuken, “Isa 56:9–57:13 – An Example of Isaianic Legacy of Trito-Isaiah,” in J.W. Van Henten, et al. (eds.), Tradition and Reinterpretation in Jewish and Early Christian Literature (Leiden: Brill, 1986), 48– 64. 16 For the meaning of this term in Isaiah and Zechariah, see Mitchell, Haggai, Zechariah, 206–207.

356

ELIE ASSIS

THE THIRD PROPHECY (VV. 4–5) ‫רוּשׁ ָל ִם ִמ ְשׁ ַﬠנְ תּוֹ‬ ָ ְ‫ה ָא ַמר יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת עֹד יֵ ְשׁבוּ זְ ֵקנִ ים וּזְ ֵקנוֹת ִבּ ְרחֹבוֹת י‬ ‫יָמים׃‬ ִ ‫וְ ִאישׁ ִמ ְשׁ ַﬠנְ תּוֹ ְבּיָ דוֹ ֵמר ֹב‬ ‫יה׃‬ ָ ‫יִמּ ְלאוּ יְ ָל ִדים וִ ילָ דוֹת ְמ ַשׂ ֲח ִקים ִבּ ְרחֹב ֶֹת‬ ָ ‫ְוּרחֹבוֹת ָה ִﬠיר‬ “Thus says the Lord of hosts: Old men and old women shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem, each with staff in hand because of their great age. And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets.”

The third prophecy describes the longevity of men and women in Jerusalem in the future and how the streets of the city will be filled with children at play. 17 This prophecy is the result of the previous one. God’s presence in Jerusalem symbolizes its transfer from the hands of its foreign conquerors to the Judeans. With God residing in the city, a blessing rests upon those people who returned to reside in the city after having been exiled from it. 978F

THE FOURTH PROPHECY (V. 6) ‫יָּמים‬ ִ ‫יִפּ ֵלא ְבּ ֵﬠינֵ י ְשׁ ֵא ִרית ָה ָﬠם ַהזֶּ ה ַבּ‬ ָ ‫כֹּה ָא ַמר יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת ִכּי‬ ‫יִפּ ֵלא נְ ֻאם יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת׃‬ ָ ‫ם־בּ ֵﬠינַי‬ ְ ַ‫ָה ֵהם גּ‬ “Thus says the LORD of hosts: Even though it seems impossible to the remnant of this people in these days, should it also seem impossible to me, says the LORD of hosts?”

The fourth prophecy expresses the people’s wonderment about the realization of the redemptive promises that were made in the first prophecies of the chapter. According to this verse, these promises were marvelous not only in the eyes of the people but also in the eyes of God. 18 This prophecy, which concludes the first section, shows the people’s lack of trust in the prophet’s descriptions of the future. The prophet speaks these words of God in order to show that even though the promises are 97F

17 For an analysis of the pericope, see Y. Zakovitch, “A Garden of Eden in the Squares of Jerusalem: Zechariah 8:4–6,” Gregorianum, 87 (2006), 301–310. 18 See Ibn Ezra and NJPS translation.

THE STRUCTURE OF ZECHARIAH 8 AND ITS MEANING

357

incredible, they will indeed occur. The verse also highlights the gap between the current reality and the promises predicted for the future. Its goal is to strengthen the people’s faith in the validity of the prophet’s promises, although they seem disconnected from reality. 19 Thus we see thematic development between the first four prophecies of ch. 8: After the declaration of God’s jealousy for Jerusalem, signifying the punishment of the nations and their removal from Jerusalem, God will come to dwell in Jerusalem. 20 When that happens, the lives of the people of Jerusalem will be long and happy. 21 These messages are concluded with an expression of wonder at these promises that is designed to strengthen the people’s trust in their fulfillment.

THE PROPHECIES OF THE THIRD SECTION: THE EIGHTH, NINTH, AND TENTH PROPHECIES AND THEIR CONTINUITY THE EIGHTH PROPHECY (V. 19) ‫יﬠי ָה ֲﬠ ִשׂ ִירי י‬ ִ ‫ישׁי וְ צוֹם ַה ְשּׁ ִב‬ ִ ‫יﬠי וְ צוֹם ַה ֲח ִמ‬ ִ ‫ֹה־א ַמר יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת צוֹם ָה ְר ִב‬ ָ ‫כּ‬ ‫וּלמ ֲֹﬠ ִדים‬ ְ ‫וּל ִשׂ ְמ ָחה‬ ְ ‫ית־יְהוּדה ְל ָשׂשׂוֹן‬ ָ ‫יִהיֶה ְל ֵב‬ ְ ‫וְ צוֹם ָה ֲﬠ ִשׂ ִירי‬ ‫טוֹבים וְ ָה ֱא ֶמת וְ ַה ָשּׁלוֹם ֱא ָהבוּ׃‬ ִ “Thus says the LORD of hosts: The fast of the fourth month, and the fast of the fifth, and the fast of the seventh, and the fast of the tenth, shall be seasons of joy and gladness, and cheerful festivals for the house of Judah: therefore love truth and peace.”

Zechariah predicts in the eighth prophecy that the days of fasting and mourning for the destruction of the Temple and the land will become days of happiness and holidays: “Thus says the Lord of hosts: The fast of the fourth month, and the fast of the fifth, and the fast of the seventh, and the fast of the tenth, shall be seasons of joy and gladness, and cheerful festivals for the house of Judah; therefore love truth and peace” (v. 19). In this prophecy the prophet refers again to the subject of fasts raised in ch. 7, and 19 Petersen, Haggai, and Zechariah 1–8, A Commentary, 301; Redditt, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, 85. 20

For a different connection between the first two prophecies, see Petersen,

Haggai, and Zechariah 1–8, A Commentary, 299. 21 Petersen, Haggai, and Zechariah 1–8, A Commentary, 300.

358

ELIE ASSIS

again he does not directly answer the people’s question. There, instead of answering the question directly, he turns to the people with his own query: “When you fasted and mourned in the fifth and in the seventh month these seventy years, did you at all fast for Me, even to Me? And when you eat, and when you drink, are you not they that eat, and they that drink?” (7:5–6). Later, the prophet admonishes the people, criticizing their societal relations (7:8–14), but his words still contain no direct answer to the question as to whether to fast or not. I am in agreement with those who believe that the prophet’s reproach to the people comprises his answer to their question. 22 The prophet is dismayed that the people concern themselves with an external matter like fasting; he maintains that fasting is not the main issue with which they should be involved. Mourning the destruction of the Temple, Zechariah claims, is an area under the people’s jurisdiction, not God’s. What God expects from the people is that they focus on that which might have prevented the destruction in the first place: doing justice.23 In 8:19, the prophet returns to the same topic, and, yet again, he does not address the question of whether to fast, notwithstanding the prevailing opinion of scholars to the contrary. Nonetheless, the prophet comes to strengthen the people, reminding them that in the future their days of mourning will be turned to days of joy. 24

THE NINTH PROPHECY (VV. 20–22) 20 ‫כֹּה ָא ַמר יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת עֹד ֲא ֶשׁר יָ בֹאוּ ַﬠ ִמּים וְ י ְֹשׁ ֵבי ָﬠ ִרים ַרבּוֹת׃‬ 21 ‫ת־פּנֵ י יהוה‬ ְ ‫ל־א ַחת ֵלאמֹר נֵ ְל ָכה ָהלוֹ� ְל ַחלּוֹת ֶא‬ ַ ‫וְ ָה ְלכוּ י ְֹשׁ ֵבי ַא ַחת ֶא‬

‫ם־אנִ י׃‬ ָ ַ‫וּל ַב ֵקּשׁ ֶאת־יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת ֵא ְל ָכה גּ‬ ְ

Mitchell, Haggai, Zechariah, 199. Others, too, have adopted this interpretation with some variations. See, e.g. Mason, Preaching the Tradition, 215– 218; Petersen, Haggai, and Zechariah 1–8, A Commentary, 288. 23 Sweeney, The Twelve Prophets, vol. 2, 642–643. 24 Many believe that 8:19 is the prophet’s answer to the people’s question in 7:3. See, e.g., Ibn Ezra; Horst, Die Zwölf kleine Propheten, 232–233; Baldwin, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, 85; Rudolph, Haggai-Sacharja 1–8 - Sacharja 9–14 – Maleachi, 151; Petersen, Haggai, and Zechariah 1–8, A Commentary, 312; Meyers and Meyers, Haggai, Zechariah 1–8, 334–442; Butterworth, Structure and the Book of Zechariah, 70–71; Redditt, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, 79; Conrad, Zechariah, 131–150; and Boda, “From Fasts to Feasts: A Literary Function of Zechariah 7–8,” 398–401. 22

THE STRUCTURE OF ZECHARIAH 8 AND ITS MEANING

359

22 ‫ירוּשׁ ָל ִם‬ ָ ‫צוּמים ְל ַב ֵקּשׁ ֶאת־יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת ִבּ‬ ִ ‫וּבאוּ ַﬠ ִמּים ַר ִבּים וְ גוֹיִם ֲﬠ‬ ָ

‫ת־פּנֵ י יהוה׃‬ ְ ‫וּלְ ַחלּוֹת ֶא‬

20 “Thus

says the LORD of hosts: Peoples shall yet come, the inhabitants of many cities; 21 the inhabitants of one city shall go to another, saying, Come, let us go to entreat the favor of the LORD, and to seek the LORD of hosts; I myself am going. 22 Many peoples and strong nations shall come to seek the LORD of hosts in Jerusalem, and to entreat the favor of the LORD.”

In the ninth prophecy, Zechariah describes the nations’ intention to come to Jerusalem in order to seek favor with God. After he speaks in the eighth prophecy about the days of mourning becoming days of joy for Judah and for the people who dwell in Zion, the prophet then addresses the meaning of these events on the universal plane—how the redemption of Israel will also influence the nations to receive God as their Lord and will cause them to entreat His favor. It is possible that the fact that a Jerusalemite society embracing the values of loving truth and peace (8:19) is the reason why Jerusalem will eventually be the center of the nations. 25 986F

THE TENTH PROPHECY (V. 23) ‫יָּמים ָה ֵה ָמּה ֲא ֶשׁר יַ ֲחזִ יקוּ ֲﬠ ָשׂ ָרה ֲאנָ ִשׁים ְלשׁ ֹנוֹת‬ ִ ‫כֹּה ָא ַמר יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת ַבּ‬ ‫יְהוּדי ֵלאמֹר נֵ ְל ָכה ִﬠ ָמּ ֶכם‬ ִ ‫ִמכֹּל ְלשׁ ֹנוֹת ַהגּוֹיִ ם וְ ֶה ֱחזִ יקוּ ִבּ ְכנַ ף ִאישׁ‬ ‫�הים ִﬠ ָמּ ֶכם׃‬ ִ ‫ִכּי ָשׁ ַמ ְﬠנוּ ֱא‬ “Thus says the LORD of hosts: In those days ten men from nations of every language shall take hold of a Jew, grasping his garment and saying, Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you.”

The tenth prophecy (v. 23) expands on the theme of the ninth. While in the ninth prophecy the nations aspire to seek God’s favor, their goal in the tenth is to join the Jews and accompany them to Jerusalem, galvanized by the recognition that God dwells in their midst. This aspiration is one part in the series of events in Jerusalem that were explicated in previous prophecies. Thus we can see a clear development between the three prophecies in the third part of the chapter.

25

For the universalistic tendencies in these verses, see Mitchell, Haggai,

Zechariah, 215–216; Mason, “The Prophets of Restoration,” 149.

360

ELIE ASSIS

THE THREE FINAL PROPHECIES AS A REVERSE ANALOGY OF THE FIRST THREE The last three prophecies parallel the first three but in the reverse order: The eighth prophecy (8:19) parallels the third in 8:4–5. In the eighth prophecy, the prophet speaks about the days of mourning turning to days of joy. In the third prophecy, he speaks about how the streets of Jerusalem will be filled with children at “play,” which is comparable to “joy.” Indeed, the roots ‫( שמח‬joy) and ‫( שחק‬play) appear as synonyms elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible, for example, in Prov 14:13 and Eccl 2:2 and 10:19. The ninth prophecy (8:20–22) describes how foreigners will come to seek God in Jerusalem because they recognize His divinity: “Thus says the Lord of hosts: People shall yet come, the inhabitants of many cities; and the inhabitants of one city shall go to another, saying: ‘Let us go to entreat the favor of the Lord of hosts; I myself am going.’ Many peoples and strong nations shall come to seek the Lord of hosts in Jerusalem, and to entreat the favor of the Lord.” This prophecy corresponds to and contrasts with the second prophecy (8:3). On the foundation of the second prophecy’s mention of God’s return to Jerusalem, the ninth prophecy adds that the nations wish to come to Jerusalem to entreat the favor of God’s name. The tenth prophecy (8:23) discusses the desire of the nations, who recognize that God dwells in the midst of Judah, to join those Jews who have returned to the land of Judah: “Thus says the Lord of hosts: In those days ten men from nations of every language shall take hold of a Jew, grasping his garment and saying, ‘Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you.’” This prophecy corresponds to the first prophecy in

8:2, which declares the divine jealousy towards the nations that attacked Jerusalem. The tenth prophecy depicts the reverse situation in which foreigners want to participate in the renewed Jewish ascent to Jerusalem.

THE STRUCTURE OF ZECHARIAH 8 AND ITS MEANING

361

These are the three themes of the first and last prophecies: First part First prophecy: The nations’ punishment from God’s jealousy for Jerusalem. Second prophecy: The Divine presence in Jerusalem Third prophecy: Increased lifespan, and the overflowing of Jerusalem with children at play

Third part Tenth prophecy: The nations join the Jews’ ascent to Jerusalem Ninth prophecy: The nations’ desire to entreat favor of God Eighth prophecy: The reversal of the days of fasting to days of joy and festivals.

THE PROPHECIES OF THE SECOND PART: THE FIFTH, SIXTH, SEVENTH PROPHECIES, AND THEIR PROGRESSION We will now turn to the middle part of the chapter, which includes the fifth, sixth, and seventh prophecies.

THE FIFTH PROPHECY (8:7–8) 7 ‫ת־ﬠ ִמּי ֵמ ֶא ֶרץ ִמזְ ָרח‬ ַ ‫מוֹשׁ ַי� ֶא‬ ִ ‫כֹּה ָא ַמר יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת ִהנְ נִ י‬

‫וּמ ֶא ֶרץ ְמבוֹא ַה ָשּׁ ֶמשׁ׃‬ ֵ

8

‫יוּ־לי ְל ָﬠם וַ ֲאנִ י ֶא ְהיֶ ה ָל ֶהם‬ ִ ‫רוּשׁ ָל ִם וְ ָה‬ ָ ְ‫אתי א ָֹתם וְ ָשׁ ְכנוּ ְבּתוֹ� י‬ ִ ‫וְ ֵה ֵב‬ ‫וּב ְצ ָד ָקה׃‬ ִ ‫א�הים ֶבּ ֱא ֶמת‬ ִ ‫ֵל‬

7 “Thus

says the LORD of hosts: I will save my people from the east country and from the west country; 8 and I will bring them to live in Jerusalem. They shall be my people and I will be their God, in faithfulness and in righteousness.”

In the fifth prophecy, Zechariah describes the ingathering of the exiles of Judah, who come with God from the corners of the earth to Jerusalem. The prophecy is not only about the salvation of the people, but about the theological significance of the exiles’ arrival in Jerusalem as well. The prophecy emphasizes that the people are the nation of God, and that God

362

ELIE ASSIS

will bring them to Jerusalem, and with the renewal of their covenant with God: “They shall be My people, and I will be their God, in truth and in righteousness.”

THE SIXTH PROPHECY 9 ‫יָּמים ָה ֵא ֶלּה ֵאת‬ ִ ‫יכם ַהשּׁ ְֹמ ִﬠים ַבּ‬ ֶ ‫ֹה־א ַמר יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת ֶתּ ֱחזַ ְקנָ ה יְ ֵד‬ ָ ‫כּ‬ ‫יכל‬ ָ ‫יאים ֲא ֶשׁר ְבּיוֹם יֻ ַסּד ֵבּית־יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת ַה ֵה‬ ִ ‫ַה ְדּ ָב ִרים ָה ֵא ֶלּה ִמ ִפּי ַהנְּ ִב‬ ‫ְל ִה ָבּנוֹת׃‬ 10 ‫וּשׂ ַכר ַה ְבּ ֵה ָמה ֵאינֶ נָּ ה‬ ְ ‫יָּמים ָה ֵהם ְשׂ ַכר ָה ָא ָדם לֹא נִ ְהיָה‬ ִ ‫ִכּי ִל ְפנֵ י ַה‬ ‫ל־ה ָא ָדם ִאישׁ ְבּ ֵר ֵﬠהוּ׃‬ ָ ‫ת־כּ‬ ָ ‫ן־ה ָצּר וַ ֲא ַשׁ ַלּח ֶא‬ ַ ‫ין־שׁלוֹם ִמ‬ ָ ‫יּוֹצא וְ ַל ָבּא ֵא‬ ֵ ‫וְ ַל‬ 11 ‫יָּמים ָה ִראשׁ ֹנִ ים ֲאנִ י ִל ְשׁ ֵא ִרית ָה ָﬠם ַהזֶּ ה נְ ֻאם יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת׃‬ ִ ‫וְ ַﬠ ָתּה לֹא ַכ‬ 12 ‫יִתּנוּ‬ ְ ‫ִכּי־זֶ ַרע ַה ָשּׁלוֹם ַהגֶּ ֶפן ִתּ ֵתּן ִפּ ְריָ הּ וְ ָה ָא ֶרץ ִתּ ֵתּן ֶאת־יְבוּלָ הּ וְ ַה ָשּׁ ַמיִם‬

‫ל־א ֶלּה׃‬ ֵ ‫ת־כּ‬ ָ ‫ת־שׁ ֵא ִרית ָה ָﬠם ַהזֶּ ה ֶא‬ ְ ‫ַט ָלּם וְ ִהנְ ַח ְל ִתּי ֶא‬

13 �‫אוֹשׁ ַי‬ ִ ‫וּבית יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל ֵכּן‬ ֵ ‫יְהוּדה‬ ָ ‫יתם ְק ָל ָלה ַבּגּוֹיִם ֵבּית‬ ֶ ִ‫וְ ָהיָה ַכּ ֲא ֶשׁר ֱהי‬

‫יכם׃‬ ֶ ‫ל־תּ ָיראוּ ֶתּ ֱחזַ ְקנָ ה יְ ֵד‬ ִ ‫יתם ְבּ ָר ָכה ַא‬ ֶ ִ‫ֶא ְת ֶכם וִ ְהי‬

9 “Thus

says the LORD of hosts: Let your hands be strong—you that have recently been hearing these words from the mouths of the prophets who were present when the foundation was laid for the rebuilding of the temple, the house of the LORD of hosts. 10 For before those days there were no wages for people or for animals, nor was there any safety from the foe for those who went out or came in, and I set them all against one other. 11 But now I will not deal with the remnant of this people as in the former days, says the LORD of hosts. 12 For there shall be a sowing of peace; the vine shall yield its fruit, the ground shall give its produce, and the skies shall give their dew; and I will cause the remnant of this people to possess all these things. 13 Just as you have been a cursing among the nations, O house of Judah and house of Israel, so I will save you and you shall be a blessing. Do not be afraid, but let your hands be strong.”

The sixth prophecy is the longest of the prophecies in this chapter. 26 Its purpose is to strengthen the listeners, as indicated by the words of 987F

26 Sweeney believes that this prophecy’s length is explained by the fact that it conveys the chapter’s main purpose, namely, the demand to build the Temple. Sweeney, The Twelve Prophets, vol. 2, 649. However, it should be noted that this

THE STRUCTURE OF ZECHARIAH 8 AND ITS MEANING

363

encouragement—“Let your hands be strong”—that appear at the beginning and end of the section, thereby creating a framework. 27 The prophecy describes the economic situation after the founding of the Temple compared to how it was beforehand, when people could not earn a living, and when there was no peace—probably indicating a lack of economic security. This situation also led to unstable social relations: “for I set all men every one against his neighbor” (v. 10). God declares, however, that after the founding of the Temple, the land will release its harvest and the sky its rain (v. 12). This economic situation reflects God’s intention to bequeath to the people their land: “I will cause the remnant of this people to inherit all these things” (v. 12). The situation described here does not express the realization of all the longed-for predictions, and so the prophet assures the people in v. 13: “And it shall come to pass that, as you were a curse among the nations, O house of Judah and house of Israel, so will I save you, and you shall be a blessing; fear not, but let your hands be strong.” According to this verse, the future salvation has yet to occur. This prophecy reflects the people’s sense of fragility, and therefore the words of encouragement are repeated twice, at the beginning of the prophecy and at the end—“Let your hands be strong”—and the prophet further encourages the people, saying “Fear not” (v. 13).28 The prophet maintains that the future will be good, and to bolster this claim, he points to the economic transformation between the time before the founding of the Temple and after it. This prophecy brings to mind the words of Haggai that the people’s difficult economic situation is the result of not building the Temple; the prophet promises that after construction of the Temple, the situation will reversed. According to the reality that this prophecy describes, it seems that the Temple was established and Zechariah promises that Haggai’s words will be realized (1:7–11 and 2:15–19). 29 text does not contain a demand to build the Temple. Rather, it assures the people that the economic situation will be improved once the Temple is built. 27 See Petersen, Haggai, and Zechariah 1–8, A Commentary, 304; Amsler, Aggee, Zacharie 1–8, 122; Redditt, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, 86. 28 Similar words of encouragement are found in Haggai 2:4–5. For the people’s concerns and the prophet’s response see E. Assis, “To Build or Not to Build: A Dispute between Haggai and His People (Hag 1),” ZAW, 119 (2007), 514–527; E. Assis, “Composition, Rhetoric and Theology in Haggai 1:1–15,” JHS, 7 (2007) 1– 14 http://www.arts.ualberta.ca/JHS/Articles/article_72.pdf. 29 For the relationship between this prophecy and the work of Haggai, see e.g. Mitchell, Haggai, Zechariah, 210–211; J. E. Tollington, Tradition and Innovation in Haggai and Zechariah 1–8 (JSOTSup, 150; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993), 30.

364

ELIE ASSIS

After the prophet speaks in the fifth prophecy about the return of the people to Jerusalem and of the renewal of covenantal relations between God and the people, the sixth prophecy (8: 9–13) takes those concepts as the basis for its own central idea and expands them. The construction of the Temple signifies the renewal of the relationship between people and God following the exile of the people and the destruction of the Temple. The improving economic situation is the result of this renewal, as we see in many sources that predicate the economic situation on the people’s religious state (for example, Lev 26:3–5, Deut 7:12–16 and 11:13–17). Moreover, this prophecy, which promises a blessing to the people instead of the curse of being dispersed among the nations, augments the fifth prophecy’s promise to gather in the people from the corners of the earth.

THE SEVENTH PROPHECY (VV. 14–17) 14 ‫ִכּי כֹה ָא ַמר יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת ַכּ ֲא ֶשׁר זָ ַמ ְמ ִתּי ְל ָה ַרע ָל ֶכם ְבּ ַה ְק ִציף‬

‫יכם א ִֹתי ָא ַמר יהוה ְצ ָבאוֹת וְ לֹא נִ ָח ְמ ִתּי׃‬ ֶ ‫ֲאב ֵֹת‬

15 ‫ת־בּית‬ ֵ ‫רוּשׁ ַל ִם וְ ֶא‬ ָ ְ‫יטיב ֶאת־י‬ ִ ‫יָּמים ָה ֵא ֶלּה ְל ֵה‬ ִ ‫ֵכּן ַשׁ ְב ִתּי זָ ַמ ְמ ִתּי ַבּ‬

‫ל־תּ ָיראוּ׃‬ ִ ‫יְהוּדה ַא‬ ָ

16 ‫ת־ר ֵﬠהוּ ֱא ֶמת‬ ֵ ‫ֵא ֶלּה ַה ְדּ ָב ִרים ֲא ֶשׁר ַתּ ֲﬠשׂוּ ַדּ ְבּרוּ ֱא ֶמת ִאישׁ ֶא‬

‫יכם׃‬ ֶ ‫וּמ ְשׁ ַפּט ָשׁלוֹם ִשׁ ְפטוּ ְבּ ַשׁ ֲﬠ ֵר‬ ִ

17 ‫וּשׁ ֻב ַﬠת ֶשׁ ֶקר‬ ְ ‫ל־תּ ְח ְשׁבוּ ִבּ ְל ַב ְב ֶכם‬ ַ ‫ת־ר ַﬠת ֵר ֵﬠהוּ ַא‬ ָ ‫וְ ִאישׁ ֶא‬

‫אתי נְ ֻאם־יהוה׃‬ ִ ֵ‫ל־א ֶלּה ֲא ֶשׁר ָשׂנ‬ ֵ ‫ת־כּ‬ ָ ‫ל־תּ ֱא ָהבוּ ִכּי ֶא‬ ֶ ‫ַא‬

“For thus says the LORD of hosts: Just as I purposed to bring disaster upon you, when your ancestors provoked me to wrath, and I did not relent, says the LORD of hosts,15 so again I have purposed in these days to do good to Jerusalem and to the house of Judah; do not be afraid.16 These are the things that you shall do: Speak the truth to one another, render in your gates judgments that are true and make for peace,17 do not devise evil in your hearts against one another, and love no false oath; for all these are things that I hate, says the LORD.” 14

The seventh prophecy advances the idea of the sixth prophecy, as is already made evident by the addition of the word “For” (‫ )כי‬to the standard opening formula. Like the rest of the prophecies in this chapter, this one also opens with words of encouragement, vv. 14–15: “For thus says the Lord of hosts: As I purposed to bring disaster upon you, when your ancestors provoked Me to wrath, and I did not relent, says the Lord of

THE STRUCTURE OF ZECHARIAH 8 AND ITS MEANING

365

hosts, so again have I purposed in these days to do good to Jerusalem and to the house of Judah; do not be afraid.” The people were living with the consequences of the destruction that God had brought on them, and the prophet affirms that just as God said He would punish them, so too would He do goodness to them as He promised. However, this prophecy presents the opposite idea to the former one, and is different from all other prophecies in the chapter. It begins by recalling the people’s sin and God’s angry response: “When your ancestors provoked Me to wrath” (v. 14). This threatening component continues to hover during the prophet’s presentation of the conditions for the realization of all the promises for good that appear in the remaining prophecies: “These are the things that you shall do: Speak the truth to one another, render in your gates judgments that are true and make for peace, do not devise evil in your hearts against one another, and love no false oath; for all these are things that I hate, says the Lord” (vv. 16–17). This prophecy stipulates the condition under which the favorable prophecies will be fulfilled: the rectification of social conduct. The prophet requires that people speak the truth to each other and make righteous judgments, and that they abstain from thinking evil of one another and from swearing false oaths. All these sins are hated by God. The contrast between this prophecy and the previous one is reflected in the opening and closing of the two prophecies. The sixth prophecy opens and closes with words of encouragement: “Let your hands be strong . . . Do not be afraid, but let your hands be strong.” Though the seventh prophecy also encourages, and also contains the formula of encouragement “do not be afraid” (v. 15), its threatening nuance is apparent in the harsh, negative words of its opening and closing phrases: “As I purposed to bring disaster upon you” (v. 14), and “All these are things that I hate” (v. 17). 30 This prophecy also constitutes a direct continuation of the previous prophecy. Although the seventh prophecy, unlike the sixth, introduces an element of threat, it shares with the previous prophecy the same role of encouragement, conveyed through the same expression: “do not be afraid” (vv. 13, 15). The continuity between the seventh and the sixth prophecies is also manifested in the common structure of the concluding sentence of the sixth prophecy and of the opening sentence of the seventh, which connote similar concepts in reverse forms: v 13 at the end of the sixth prophecy:

30

Petersen, Haggai, and Zechariah 1–8, A Commentary, 309, 311–312.

366

ELIE ASSIS

And it shall come to pass that, as you were a curse among the nations, O house of Judah and house of Israel, So will I save you, and you shall be a blessing; do not be afraid, but let your hands be strong.

and vv 14–15 in the seventh prophecy: As I purposed to bring disaster upon you, when your ancestors provoked Me to wrath, and I did not relent, says the Lord of hosts, So again I have purposed in these days to do good to Jerusalem and to the house of Judah; do not be afraid.

The structure of the second part of the chapter (the fifth, sixth, and seventh prophecies) is, therefore: • Fifth prophecy: The people return to dwell in Jerusalem. The covenant between God and the people is renewed. • Sixth prophecy: The prophecy of peace, abundance, and blessing. • Seventh prophecy: That good that God designated for the people in Jerusalem depends on their deeds in the social realm.

PROPHECIES IN THE SECOND SECTION IN PARALLEL TO THE FIRST AND THIRD SECTIONS In the fifth prophecy (8:7–8), Zechariah predicts the ingathering of the exiles of Judah and the arrival of the dispersed people in Jerusalem, and also the renewal of the covenant between the people and God. This prophecy corresponds to the first and second prophecies (in the first section) and the tenth and ninth prophecies (in the third section). The first prophecy recounts God’s jealousy for Jerusalem and the punishment of the nations, and the second describes the return of God to dwell in Jerusalem after His anger against the nations. Indeed, the verb “dwell” (‫ )שכן‬appears both in the second and the fifth prophecies: In the second, the reference is to God, who will dwell in Jerusalem, and in the fifth it is the people who will return to dwell there. After depicting this return, the fifth prophecy discusses the renewal of covenantal relations between God and the people. The ninth prophecy expresses the desire of the nations to cling to God following their punishment at His hands, as is related in the first prophecy, and following the renewal of covenantal relations between God and the people in Jerusalem, as the fifth prophecy relates. These relations are, in turn, based on the concept of God entering Jerusalem, which is described in the second

THE STRUCTURE OF ZECHARIAH 8 AND ITS MEANING

367

prophecy. In the tenth prophecy, the nations intend to align themselves with the Jews because God is in their midst, a concept that is based on the covenant between God and Judah described in the fifth prophecy. The sixth prophecy (8:9–13) describes the amelioration of the economic situation following the establishment of the Temple. 31 The prophet describes the produce of the land, in particular the yield of the vine and the dew of the heavens. This prophecy corresponds to the third and eighth prophecies, which speak of the days of joy and the increased longevity that are based on the sound economic situation described in the sixth prophecy. Indeed, associations between agricultural prosperity and joy are found elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible, such as the concept underlying the joy of the harvest festival (Lev 23:39–41) and the motif of joy at the time of eating in the Temple and the blessings of material prosperity that God gives in Deut 17:5–7 and Deut 26:11. This connection between economic prosperity and happiness is also apparent in the description of the idyllic days of Solomon’s reign in 1 Kgs 4:20: “Judah and Israel were many, as the sand which is by the sea in multitude, eating and drinking and making merry.” This verse connects the various elements that appear in the third and sixth prophecies. The situation described in the days of Solomon refers to the increase in population, as did the third prophecy of Zechariah; eating and drinking are mentioned in the sixth and eighth prophecies, and joy is mentioned in the third and eighth. It seems, therefore, that the combination of ideas that arises in the third, sixth, and eighth prophecies are based on the archetypal description of the days of Solomon. 32 For other sources that append economic prosperity to joy, see Isa 9:2, 16:10, 24:7, and Joel 1:16, 2:23. The establishment of peace in the eighth prophecy (v. 19) is based on the vision of peace described in the sixth prophecy (v. 12). The seventh prophecy (8:14–17) is an extension of the sixth, but has no parallel in either the first or last parts of the chapter. It contains implicit warnings of the misfortune that may befall the people if they do not treat each other fairly. The structure of the prophecies in the chapter as a whole is: A B C

Prophecy 1 (8:2): Jealousy for Jerusalem—punishment for the nations. Prophecy 2 (8:3): Dwelling of God in Jerusalem. Prophecy 3 (8:4–5): Good life in Jerusalem.

31 For the connection between the establishment of the Temple and economic abundance within the post-exilic prophecy, see Assis, “The Temple in the Book of Haggai,” 1–10. 32 See Assis, op. cit., 3.

368

ELIE ASSIS D

Prophecy 4 (8:6): The wonder of the people and God about what the prophet prophesied above. A + B Prophecy 5 (8:7–8): The salvation of people, the ingathering of the exiles in Jerusalem, and the renewal of covenantal relations between God and the people. C Prophecy 6 (8:9–13): With the construction of the Temple, the promises of a good life and agricultural abundance in the land. D Prophecy 7 (8:14–17): The condition for good is the establishment of equitable social relations C Prophecy 8 (8:19): The days of mourning will become days of joy. B Prophecy 9 (8:20–22): The nations will desire to entreat God’s favor in Jerusalem. A Prophecy 10 (8:23): The nations’ participation in the Jews’ ascent to Jerusalem.

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSIONS In this article I attempted to show that the arrangement of the collection of prophecies in Zechariah ch. 8 is not random but is a well-designed structure intended to be read as one meaningful sequence, notwithstanding the fact that each component has significance even when considered independent of the other prophecies. I based this claim on the internal structure of the arrangement of the prophecies, in which each prophecy is an additional tier of the one adjoining it, particularly within each one of the three main chapter sections. The first part of the collection, which includes prophecies one through four, reflects the first stage of the process of redemption: the removal of the nations from Jerusalem, the return of God and the people to Jerusalem, and the length and quality of life in Jerusalem. The prophet assures the people of their longevity and of the many children who will play in Jerusalem’s streets. While the second section maintains the positive description, it places increased emphasis on the theological meaning of the redemption. After the description of the return of God and the people to Jerusalem, and of the good, ordinary life in the city, the second section turns in the fifth prophecy to the renewal of covenantal relations between God and the people. The sixth prophecy focuses on the theological realm as well, discussing first the founding of the Temple and then the economic good that will result from this. The seventh prophecy, the conclusion and climax of the second part, ends with a closing formula (“says the Lord”), immediately after which is a new opening phrase, similar to the opening of the entire chapter: “And the

THE STRUCTURE OF ZECHARIAH 8 AND ITS MEANING

369

word of the Lord came to me, saying.” The fact that this is the seventh prophecy also marks this prophecy as the culmination of the prophecies thus far. This prophecy also focuses on the theological aspects of the prophecies, and promises that the good conditions will continue as long as equitable social relations are maintained. This prophecy evokes past sins, and hints at the possibility of new punishments if the people return to their former sins. The prophet placed this prophecy, with its implicit warning to the people, as the climax of the theological section of the chapter. But the prophet chose not to conclude this collection of prophecies with a threatening tone, and perhaps this is why three prophecies, all positive, follow the seventh. In this section, the prophet opens with a promise that the days of mourning will become days of joy, after which he turns to the universal aspect of the redemption, unmentioned until now. While in the first and second parts the prophet deals with the people, God, and Jerusalem, in the third part-- in the ninth and tenth prophecies--the prophet shows how the nations will express their faith in God, their recognition of the Jews as God’s people, and their understanding that Jerusalem is a city in which they can join the Jews and seek God’s favor. In the first prophecy, the nations are the object of God’s anger; in the ninth and tenth prophecies, the nations seek closeness with God. We can thus see that the chapter contains two focal points. The first prophecies lead primarily to the first focal point of the seventh prophecy, a prophecy that hints at the dangerous possibility that the people will return to the sins of their ancestors. The second focal point is found at the conclusion of the entire collection. There, united together, are the central concepts of the connections between God, Judah, and Jerusalem, and the world’s recognition of the status of the city, the people, and God.

370

THE “SPRING OF THE YEAR” (2 CHRONICLES 36:10) AND THE CHRONICLER’S SOURCES MICHAEL AVIOZ

BAR-ILAN UNIVERSITY The matter of the extra-biblical sources that were available to the Chronicler, as well as of the historical reliability of the book, remain much debated. 1 The main questions are, as Peltonen puts it: “What were his sources? What was their historical nature and value? How did Chronicles use them?”2 In the following paper, I will discuss a text that may possibly bear on such issues, namely, the record of Jehoiachin’s deportation to Babylon (2 Chr 36:10). 3 In 2 Chr 36:10 we read: “In the spring of the year (Heb. ‫ולתשובת‬ ‫ )השנה‬King Nebuchadnezzar sent and brought him [i.e. Jehoiachin] to The most thorough study of this issue was done by Macy. See H. Macy, The Sources of the Books of Chronicles: A Reassessment (unpublished PhD diss., Harvard University, 1975). See also S. Japhet, I & II Chronicles: A Commentary (OTL; Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1993), 14–23; G. N. Knoppers, I Chronicles 1–9 (AB, 12; New York: Doubleday, 2004), 118–20 and the literature 1

cited therein. See further G. Galil, “The Historical Reliability of the Book of Chronicles,” in Y. Avishur and R. Deutsch (eds.), Michael: Historical, Epigraphical and Biblical Studies in Honor of Prof. Michael Heltzer (Tel Aviv/Jaffa: Archaeological Center Publications, 1999), 55*–62* (Hebrew). 2 K. Peltonen, “Function, Explanation and Literary Phenomena: Aspects of Source Criticism as Theory and Method in the History of Chronicles Research,” in M. P. Graham and S. L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup, 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), 18– 69 (69). 3 Scholars also debate the year in which this deportation took place (598 or 597 BCE.). See the literature cited in O. Lipschits, The Fall and Rise of Jerusalem: Judah under Babylonian Rule (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2005), 55–61.

371

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Babylon, along with the precious vessels of the house of the LORD, and made his brother Zedekiah king over Judah and Jerusalem” (NRSV). The parallel account in 2 Kgs 24:10–17 is much more elaborate, and there are several key differences between the two texts. 4 For our purposes, we will focus on one such divergence between the two accounts. Unlike the phrase in the Chronicles account shown above, the version in 2 Kgs 24:10 states: “At that time (Heb. ‫)בעת ההיא‬, the servants of King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon came up to Jerusalem, and the city was besieged.” Some commentators ignore this difference entirely 5, while others refer to it only briefly. 6 The difference between the two parallel texts has been previously explained as an interpretation by the Chronicler in order to clarify the obscure datum appearing in Kings—‫בעת ההיא‬. 7 97F

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4 Other differences are as follows: In contrast to Kings, in Chronicles Nebuchadnezzar is not present in Jerusalem; Chronicles does not mention the treasures taken from both the palace and the temple; Chronicles views Zedekiah as Jehoiachin’s brother while in Kings he is his cousin; in Chronicles Jehoiachin ruled for three months and ten days, while in Kings he ruled for only three months. The representation of Zedekiah is very complex. See the different views on this question of Klein, 1 Chronicles (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2006), 11; Japhet, I & II Chronicles, 1069–70; and Knoppers, I Chronicles 1–9, 327. According to McKenzie, “Where C [= Chronicles] contains different or additional information from SK [=Samuel-Kings] that does not derive from textual variation or from Chr’s bias, it is certainly reasonable to propose that Chr has used a source unknown to us.” See S. L. McKenzie, The Chronicler’s Use of the Deuteronomistic History (HSM, 33; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1984), 28 and cf. p. 186. Cf. also Macy, Sources, 115–65, 169–72. McKenzie’s hypothesis was generally refuted. See, e.g., H. G. M. Williamson’s review of this work in VT 37 (1987), 107– 14. 5 E. L. Curtis and A. A. Madsen, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Books of Chronicles (ICC; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1910), 522; Japhet, I & II Chronicles, 1067; I. Kalimi, The Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History in Chronicles (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2005). This topic is also missing from J. Hughes, Secrets of the Times: Myth and History in Biblical Chronology (JSOTSup, 66; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1990). 6 H. G. M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), 414. He writes that the term “in the spring of the year” was supplied by the Chronicler “to indicate that a military campaign was involved.” However, what does it mean that the Chronicler “supplied” this piece of data? 7 Concerning the formula ‫בעת ההיא‬, “at that time,” see M. Cogan and H. Tadmor, II Kings: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB, 11; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1988), 186; T. Kronholm, “‘ēt, ‫עת‬,” in G. J.

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373

What was the Chronicler’s source for the version ‫ ?לתשובת השנה‬This term appears in two additional places: 2 Sam 11:1 (// 1 Chr 20:1) and 1 Kgs 20:22.8 Theoretically, these texts could have been his source for replacing ‫ בעת ההיא‬with ‫לתשובת השנה‬. However, the difficulty with this option is that the Chronicler left the term ‫ בעת ההיא‬in both the synoptic 9 and non-synoptic 10 texts. If this term was considered indefinite, why did he not replace it in all of these instances? 11 Since he failed to do so, these narratives cannot be the basis for his comments on Jehoiachin’s deportation. Accordingly, another possibility needs to be considered. The Chronicler’s version is consistent with the Babylonian Chronicles, and it is surprising to discover that this similarity is usually not mentioned by most commentaries on 2 Chronicles.12 In the Babylonian Chronicle, we read: 10F

102F

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104F

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Botterweck et al. (eds.), Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament Vol. 11 (Grand Rapids/Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2001), 434–51, esp. 439–40; G. Brin, The Concept of Time in the Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls (Leiden: Brill, 2001), 39–45. Regarding the change in 2 Chr 36:10, Brin writes on p. 41: “We either find here a difference in the information given in the two passages, or, on the other hand, this indicates the artificial nature of the use of this formula.” 8 The Septuagint translates similarly in all three places: ἐπιστρέφοντος τοῦ ἐνιαυτοῦ (“after the year had turned”). In 4QSama, verse 1 in 2 Sam 11 is missing. There is no textual evidence from Qumran regarding the verses from Kings and Chronicles. 9 2 Chr 7:8 (//1 Kgs 8:65); 2 Chr 28:16 (//2 Kgs 16:6); 2 Chr 21:10 (//2 Kgs 9:22). 10 1 Chr 21:28–29 (unparalleled in 2 Sam 24:17); 2 Chr 13:18; 2 Chr 15:5 (in plural form); 2 Chr 16:7, 10. 11 It seems probable that the Chronicler was familiar with the David-Bathsheba narrative. See H. G. M. Williamson, “A Response to A. G. Auld,” JSOT 27 (1983), 33–39 (36); G. N. Knoppers, I Chronicles 10–29 (AB, 12A; New York: Doubleday, 2004), 737–40; Idem, “Changing History: Nathan’s Dynastic Oracle and the Structure of the Davidic Monarchy in Chronicles,” in M. Bar-Asher et al. (eds.), Shai le-Sara Japhet: Studies in the Bible, Its Exegesis, and Its Language (Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 2007), 99*–123* (Hebrew). Regarding the story of the battle of Ahab (1 Kgs 20), although it is not paralleled in Chronicles, it seems that the Chronicler had knowledge of it. On Ahab in Chronicles, see E. Ben Zvi, “The House of Omri/Ahab in Chronicles,” in L. L. Grabbe (ed.), Ahab Agonistes. The Rise and Fall of the Omri Dynasty (LHBOTS, 421/ESHM, 6; London/New York: T & T Clark, 2007), 41–53. 12 Exceptions are: J. Myers, II Chronicles (AB, 13; New York: Doubleday, 1965), 220; R. B. Dillard, 2 Chronicles (WBC, 15; Dallas: Word, 1987), 300. Both mention the Babylonian chronicle briefly but do not develop this point.

374

MICHAEL AVIOZ Year 7: in Kislev the king of Babylonia BCE called out his army and marched to Hattu. He set his camp against the city of Judah [Ya-a-hudu] and on 2nd Adar he took the city and captured the king. He appointed a king of his choosing there, took heavy tribute and returned to Babylon.13 106F

The month of Adar mentioned in this chronicle corresponds to the Hebrew phrase “in the spring of the year” (‫ )ולתשובת השנה‬because if the year started in Nisan, then Adar is the last month of the preceding year. If this is the case, then the Babylonian Chronicle confirms the testimony of the Chronicler, and we may add this case to those in which the Chronicler is historically trustworthy. 14 We may further deduce that the Chronicler had access to sources that were not available to the authors of Kings, who did not know exactly when Jehoiachin was sent into exile. Although we do not know whether the Chronicler had access to the Babylonian Chronicle itself, it would not be sound to merely postulate intuition or luck; the Chronicler may have based his assertions on some other oral or written source.15 This incident is not the only one where the Chronicler appears to have had additional information about Jehoiachin. The list of Jehoiachin’s heirs 107F

108F

Galil thinks that there is no correspondence between the date Adar 2 appearing in the Babylonian chronicle and the Judean calendar where it was already Nisan. See G. Galil, The Chronology of the Kings of Israel and Judah (SHCANE, 9; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1996), 113–14. 13 Chronicle BM 21946. See A. Millard, “The Babylonian Chronicle (1.137),” in W. W. Hallo (ed.), COS 1. Canonical Compositions from the Biblical World (Leiden: Brill, 2003), p. 467. 14 Other known examples are Hezekiah’s tunnel (2 Chr 32:30), Manasseh’s deportation by the Assyrians (2 Chr 33:11), and Manasseh’s wall (2 Chr 33:14). See N. S. Fox, In the Service of the King: Officialdom in Ancient Israel and Judah (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 2000), 18–23; A. F. Rainey, “The Chronicler and His Sources—Historical and Geographical,” in M. P. Graham et al. (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), 30–72 (52–53); G. N. Knoppers, “Historiography and History: The Royal Reforms,” in The Chronicler as Historian, 178–203; B.E. Kelly, “Manasseh in the Books of Kings and Chronicles (2 Kings 21:1–18; 2 Chron 33:1–20),” in V. P. Long et al. (eds.), Windows into Old Testament History: Evidence, Argument, and the Crisis of “Biblical Israel” (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 131–46. 15 For the view that the Chronicler had extra-biblical sources, see Japhet, I & II Chronicles, 18, 23 and passim.

THE “SPRING OF THE YEAR” (2 CHRONICLES 36:10)

375

in 1 Chr 3:17–24 is another instance in which the Babylonian records support the Chronicler’s additions.16

A DIFFERENT VORLAGE? Another possibility to explain the deviations of the Chronicler from his sources is that the Chronicler had a different Vorlage for the books of Samuel-Kings.17 This means that the Chronicler did not alter the text of Samuel-Kings tendentiously, but rather used a divergent copy of SamuelKings. Lemke thus concludes, “The text which he utilized was an Old Palestinian text type from which also the Greek translation of Samuel was made.” 18 Although I do believe that such a possibility should be considered in certain cases, I do not think that 2 Chr 36:10 is among them. One cannot account for all the differences between the Chronicler’s work and his sources on the basis of that line of explanation, 19 especially in the case of parallel passages in Chronicles and Kings. Although in the case of Samuel, the Vorlage of Chronicles appears to have represented a type of text which was not identical with the MT and was closer to the Hebrew Vorlage of Samuel LXX (see also 4QSama), in the case of Kings it is generally admitted that Chronicle’s Vorlage was close to Kings MT, as demonstrated by McKenzie and others. 20

See Japhet, I & II Chronicles, 100. W.E. Lemke, “The Synoptic Problem in the Chronicler’s History,” HTR 58 (1965), 349–63. Cf. Japhet, I & II Chronicles, 28–29; R.W. Klein, 1 Chronicles, 28– 30; Knoppers, I Chronicles 1–9, 69–71; H.G.M. Williamson “The Death of Josiah and the Continuing Development of the Deuteronomic History,” VT 32 (1982), 242–48. Five years later, Begg has written a response to Williamson’s paper, to which Williamson replied: see C. T. Begg, “The Death of Josiah in Chronicles: Another View,” VT 37 (1987), 1–8; Williamson, “Reliving the Death of Josiah: A Reply to C. T. Begg,” VT 37, 9–15. See also Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, 408–9. 18 Lemke, “Synoptic Problem,” 362. 19 Cf. B.E. Kelly, Retribution and Eschatology in Chronicles (JSOTSup, 211; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996), 217; M. Avioz, “Nathan’s Prophecy in II Samuel 7 and 1 Chr 17: Text, Context, and Meaning,” ZAW 116 (2004), 542–54. 20 See McKenzie, Chronicler’s Use of the Deuteronomistic History, 55; Knoppers, 1 Chronicles 1–9, 70. It is true that in the case of 2 Kgs 24–25, McKenzie argued that Chr’s Vorlage of 2 Kgs 24–25 was truncated. However, McKenzie has usually not been followed on this point. 16 17

376

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A CASE OF INTERPRETATION? Several scholars hold that the Chronicler should be defined as an interpreter, 21 but this view is criticized by other scholars. Among the main counter-arguments are: (a) if we define the book of Chronicles as an interpretation or exegesis, why would the Chronicler add unparalleled material? (b) where there are differences between Chronicles and its sources, many of the changes do not appear to be exegetical ones. 22 To be sure, one cannot deny that there are cases in Chronicles in which there is evidence for an interpretive process. However, we need not deduce from such cases that the genre of Chronicles is interpretation, and that every single difference should be explained as exegetical.23

THE MEANING OF ‫לתשובת השנה‬ Scholars have disputed the exact meaning of ‫לתשובת השנה‬. Morgenstern 24 suggests that it is an astronomical term designating the equinox that occurs twice a year, in spring and autumn. The Babylonian calendar begins the year with the spring equinox, i.e. the month of Nisan. 107F

T. Willi, Die Chronik als Auslegung. Untersuchungen zur literarischen Gestaltung der historischen Überlieferung Israels (FRLANT, 106; Göttingen: 21

Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1972); W. M. Schniedewind, “The Chronicler As An Interpreter of Scripture,” in M. P. Graham and S. L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), 158–80 and the literature cited therein. 22 For a critique of Willi and his followers, see P. R. Ackroyd, “The Chronicler as Exegete,” JSOT 2 (1977), 2–32 (= The Chronicler in His Age [JSOTSup, 101; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991], 311–43); P. C. Beentjes, Tradition and Transformation in the Book of Chronicles (SSN, 52; Leiden: Brill, 2008), 5; I. Kalimi, “The Characterization of the Chronicler and His Writing,” in idem, An

Ancient Israelite Historian: Studies in the Chronicler, His Time, Place and Writing

(Assen: Van Gorcum, 2005), 19–39. Kalimi raises seven criticisms of Willi, but I do not share all of them. For a definition of exegesis, see S. B. Porter and K. D. Clarke, “What is Exegesis? An Analysis of Various Definitions,” in S. B. Porter (ed.), Handbook to the Exegesis of the New Testament (Leiden: Brill, 2002), 3–21. 23 For a similar assessment, see Knoppers, “Historiography and History,” 183– 4. The problem of defining interrelations between biblical texts and labeling them with various sorts of misleading terms is beyond the scope of this paper. See, most recently, J. D. Smoak, “Building Houses and Planting Vineyards: The Early InnerBiblical Discourse on an Ancient Israelite Wartime Curse,” JBL 127 (2008), 19–35. 24 J. Morgenstern, “Additional Notes on ‘The Three Calendars of Ancient Israel’,” HUCA 3 (1926), 77–107 (78).

THE “SPRING OF THE YEAR” (2 CHRONICLES 36:10)

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According to Anderson, ‫ לתשובת השנה‬indicates the period between the heavy winter rains and the harvest, i.e. the spring, an appropriate time for military exploits.25 Garsiel, however, rejects this view, reasoning that “it is improbable that all the local kings made a practice of fighting then…we cannot say that there was a fixed time when kings went out to war.” 26 Alternatively, Thiele and Finegan 27 maintain that the term means a time at or after Nisan 1, since that is the date of the Babylonian New Year and thus, most naturally, the beginning of the spring of the year. These authors connect our verse with Ezek 40:1 (“at the beginning of the year, on the tenth day of the month”) and conclude that Nisan 10 (Apr 22, 597) is the probable date of the actual deportation of Jehoiachin. Two separate questions should be asked: (a) In what time of the year did armies prefer to wage war? and (b) What is the meaning of ‫תשובת‬ ‫ ?השנה‬The answer to the first question is that armies throughout the ages initiated wars in the spring,28 and we have no reason to presume that the season of warfare was any different than is described in the Hebrew Bible. This question is not necessarily connected to the meaning of the term “‫לתשובת השנה‬,” however, which may refer to the beginning, 29 the middle,30 or the end of the year. 108F

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A. A. Anderson, 2 Samuel (WBC, 11; Dallas: Word, 1989), 152. Cf. R. P. Gordon, 1 & 2 Samuel: A Commentary (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1986), 252; D. J. A. Clines, On the Way to the Postmodern: Old Testament Essays 1967–1998, vol. 1 (JSOTSup, 292; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998), 371–82; J. A. Wagenaar, “Post-exilic Calendar Innovations: The First Month of the Year and the Date of Passover and the Festival of Unleavened Bread,” ZAW 115 (2003), 3–24. 26 M. Garsiel, “The Story of David and Bathsheba: A Different Approach,” CBQ 55 (1993), 251. Cf. P. K. McCarter Jr., II Samuel (AB; New York: Doubleday, 1984), 285. 27 E. R. Thiele, “The Chronology of the Kings of Judah and Israel,” JNES 3 (1944), 137–86 (182); J. Finegan, Handbook of Biblical Chronology: Principles of 25

Time Reckoning in the Ancient World and Problems of Chronology in the Bible

(2nd ed., Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1998), 257. 28 A. K. Grayson, “Assyrian Civilization,” in J Boardman et al. (eds.), The

Cambridge Ancient History III/2: The Assyrian and Babylonian Empires and other States of the Near East, from the Eighth to the Sixth Centuries BC. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 194–228 (219); S. E. Phang, Roman Military Service: Ideologies of Discipline in the Late Republic and Early Principate

(Cambridge/New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 89. 29 H. Tadmor, “Chronology,” Encyclopaedia Biblica 4 (Hebrew; Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 1962), 245–310 (276); A. Malamat, History of Biblical Israel: Major Problems and Minor Issues (CHANE, 7; Leiden: Brill, 2001), 310. 30 See J. Begrich, Die Chronologie der Könige von Israel und Juda und die

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While the first question may be answered by referring to statistics, the second question involves philology. 31 Apparently, whenever biblical records are involved, the term “‫ ”לתשובת השנה‬is connected to military expeditions. In 2 Sam 11:1, it is equated with ‫ ;לעת צאת המלאכים‬32 1 Kgs 20: 22, 26 tells about the war between Aram and Israel; and finally in 2 Chr 36:10, Jehoaichin is taken into exile during that season of the year. 33 1024F

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WHY DID THE CHRONICLER NOT USE THE MONTH NAME ADAR? We might have expected the Chronicler to use the month name Adar to designate the month, as cited in the Babylonian Chronicle, thereby avoiding any ambiguity concerning the month in which Jehoiachin was deported. Why did he not do so? In the pre-exilic books, dates are designated according to an ordinal system, or numbered months. 34 This system is replaced in the post-exilic period by the Babylonian month names, as we see in the books of Zechariah, Ezra-Nehemiah and Esther. However, the book of Chronicles uses the older system of the ordinal designation: the first month (1 Chr 12:16; 27:2), the second month (1 Chr 3:2); and the seventh 1027F

Quellen des Rahmens der Königsbücher (Tubingen: Mohr, 1929), 88; C. Körting, Der Schall des Schofar. Israels Feste im Herbst (BZAW, 285; Berlin: de Gruyter,

1999), 61. 31 Galil points out that it is unclear whether the Chronicler meant the day on which Jehoiachin surrendered, a day after the New Year, or the day on which Jehoiachin was deported. See G. Galil, “A New Look at the Chronology of the Last Kings of Judah,” Zion 56 (1991), 15 n. 44 (Hebrew). 32 On this term, see McCarter, II Samuel, 279. 33 Cf. Clines, On the Way. The term is also found in Greek in the supplement to LXX in 3 Reigns 12:24x. See, most recently, the discussion relating to the originality of this text in E. Tov, “3 Kingdoms Compared with Similar Rewritten Compositions,” in A. Hilhorst et al. (eds.), Flores Florentino: Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Early Jewish Studies in Honour of Florentino García Martínez (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 345–66. 34 See J. C. VanderKam, Calendars in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Measuring Time (London and New York: Routledge, 1998), 6. VanderKam omits the book of Chronicles from his list. Sacha Stern suggests that, “The exclusive use of Biblical, numbered months in some earlier post-exilic Biblical works […] can be dismissed as literary archaism.” See his Calendar and Community: A History of the Jewish Calendar, 2nd cent. BCE–10th cent. CE. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), 29, n. 130. However, it is unlikely that such a discrepancy can be explained in this way. D. Miano (Shadow on the Steps: Time Measurement in Ancient Israel [Atlanta: SBL, 2010], 7–48) ignores the testimony of the post-exilic books with regard to the month names.

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month (2 Chr 5:3). Talmon 35 notes that the dates in post-exilic books are not recorded consistently. There are places where months are identified by numerals only (Hag 1:1), others where the Babylonian system is used exclusively (Esth 9:15, 17, 19, 21; Neh 1:1; 2:1), and still others in which a double date appears (Zech 1:7). Even in the Pseudepigrapha, the numeral system still prevails.36 Because of the considerable ambiguity regarding the period when the system for numbering the months in Israel was changed, 37 it remains difficult to establish with certainty the reason for which the Chronicler abstained from using the Babylonian calendar.

CONCLUSION The divergence between 2 Chr 36:10 and 2 Kgs 24:10 can be explained as having resulted from new information that was available to the Chronicler, but apparently not to the author of Kings, 38 a situation that is not unique within the biblical literature. However, my analysis of this one passage of Chronicles does not support unquestioning acceptance of either the book’s historical validity, nor of the assumption that its unparalleled material was consistently taken from extra-biblical sources. Rather, it corroborates the basic rule that Hugh Williamson laid out some thirty years ago in his commentary on Chronicles: “Sound method demands that each passage be examined in its own right first of all.”39 35 S. Talmon, J. Ben-Dov and U. Glessmer, Calendrical Texts. Qumran Cave 4 XVI (Discoveries in the Judaean Desert, XXI; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2001), 136

n. 5. See also A. D. Friedberg, “A New Clue in the Dating of the Composition of the Book of Esther,” VT 50 (2000), 561–65. However, Friedberg does not mention the Book of Chronicles, a point for which he was criticized by Larsson. See G. Larsson, “Is the Book of Esther Older Than Has Been Believed?,” VT 52 (2002), 130–31. Larsson notes that “The Book of Chronicles, which is also certainly later than 400 BCE, does only use ordinals and demonstrates no influence from the Babylonian calendar” (p. 130). 36 J. C. VanderKam, “Calendars, Ancient Israelite and Early Jewish,” ABD 1:814–20. 37 De Vaux states that the change in the use of dates occurred long after the exile. See R. de Vaux, Ancient Israel, Its Life and Institutions (trans. J. McHugh; London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1961), 185. 38 In this I differ from Rainey (“The Chronicler and His Sources”), who supposed that both the Dtr and Chr had access to an extended version of the Samuel-Kings texts, but that each author had reasons to use or not to use this material. 39 Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, 19. Cf. also Galil, “The Historical

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Reliability.” For a positive stance towards the possibility that the Chronicler did have access to extra-biblical sources, see Klein, 1 Chronicles, 30–44. I wish to express my gratitude to the anonymous referees of a first draft of this paper for their valuable suggestions which significantly improved the present article.

MEDIEVAL JEWISH EXEGESIS ON DUAL INCIPITS ISAAC B. GOTTLIEB

BAR-ILAN UNIVERSITY INTRODUCTION In this paper, I propose to look at several examples of specific passages in the Pentateuch which have multiple opening formulae through the eyes of medieval Jewish exegesis. This body of work, with its attendant dictionaries and grammars, is sometimes cited by contemporary scholars in discussions about the meaning of a word or its Semitic (Arabic, Aramaic) cognates. However, medieval Jewish scholars between the 10th and the 12th centuries in Iraq (Babylonia), Palestine, and Spain did more than systematize the language of Biblical Hebrew; their philology, lexicography, and grammatical research was but one aspect of a new mode of interpretation called the peshaṭ, which replaced the way the Bible had been interpreted by Jews for a thousand years. The change began in the East, presumably as a result of the interpretations of the Karaites, who rejected the Rabbanite interpretations of the Bible as found in midrash and the Talmud. 1 Midrash in Hebrew and 103F

Daniel Frank writes that “the hallmark of early Karaite interpretation is an anti-traditional rationalism. Investigating the Bible without rabbinic preconceptions became an intellectual and religious imperative” (D. Frank, Search Scripture Well: 1

Karaite Exegesis and the Origins of the Jewish Bible Commentary in the Islamic East [Leiden: Brill, 2004], x, xi), while Meira Polliack thinks that “the linguistic-

contextual (or ‘literal’) orientation of Karaite biblical exegesis relied on technical Hebrew terms and hermeneutic principles also known from rabbinic and masoretic sources… This suggests that the Karaites did not necessarily revolutionize Jewish biblical study… ” (M. Polliack, “Major Trends in Karaite Biblical Exegesis in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries,” in M. Polliack [ed.], Karaite Judaism, A Guide to its History and Literary Sources [Leiden: Brill, 2003], 365). Of interest is Miriam Goldstein’s idea that “the adoption of new methods of commentary provided the

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Aramaic can be understood as a noun describing the literature itself (“midrashic literature”) and as a verbal form (e.g., “midrashic exegesis”) denoting homiletical interpretation. Midrash interprets the Bible by expanding the biblical story, seeking additional meaning in wordplays and analogies, and employing an intertextuality that takes no account of context. Thus a verse in Genesis can be illuminated by a passage from Chronicles if the same word or expression is found in both. Midrashic technique is oblivious to history: the aim of midrashic homily is not explication de texte but rather the derivation of ethical and religious messages and normative observances of Judaism. The former are derived from the narratives, the latter, called Halakha, from the legal portions. 2 Both types of midrash, the legal (or Halakhic) and the narrative (or Aggadic), were developed in the Second Temple period and practiced through the first seven centuries of the common era. 3 The legal interpretations were the result of scholastic efforts in the Pharisaic or rabbinic study hall, while the Aggadic homilies originated in sermons delivered in the synagogue on Sabbaths and holidays by the Palestinian Rabbis. These sermons were later given literary shape and called midrashic literature. The Karaites rejected the authority of the Rabbis and the validity of their biblical interpretations, preferring to explain the Bible according to its context, grammar, and syntax. The Karaite scholar Yefet ben ‘Eli (Basra, Karaites a means of distinguishing themselves from their Rabbanite opponents… The new methods of commentary were integral to their identity as a movement, for they ridiculed the interpretations of Rabbinic literature as deviations from the plain sense of the text” (“The Beginnings of the Transition from Derash to Peshat as Exemplified in Yefet Ben ‘Eli’s Comment on Psa. 44:24,” in G. Khan [ed.], Exegesis and Grammar in Medieval Karaite Texts [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001], 41– 64, here 43). 2 The classic study of midrashic techniques is I. Heinemann, Darkhei HaAggadah (The Methods of the Aggadah; Jerusalem: Magnes, 1954 [Hebrew]). A comprehensive précis in English of Heinemann’s book by Marc Bregman can be found at http://www.uncg.edu/rel/contacts/ faculty/Heinemann.htm. 3 As to the origins of midrash, S.D. Fraade, “Rabbinic Midrash and Ancient Jewish Biblical Interpretation,” in C.E. Fonrobert and M.S. Jaffee (eds.), The Cambridge Companion to the Talmud and Rabbinic Literature (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 102, describes a current scholarly approach “in which ‘midrash’ denoted scriptural interpretation in general… dating all the way back, not just to the closing of the Hebrew scriptural canon but inner-biblically into the later books of the Bible…” G. Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash (trans. M. Bockmuehl; 2nd ed.; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1996), 237, notes that “an extended prehistory of the midrash before the rabbinic period is in any case undeniable.”

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Iraq, mid-10th century) moved to Jerusalem and wrote Judeo-Arabic commentaries on every book of the Bible. 4 At about the same time, David ben Abraham al-Fasi, also a Karaite, wrote a Hebrew-Arabic dictionary of the Bible. In Iraq, the Rabbanite scholar Saadyah Gaon responded to the Karaites in kind, stressing in his introductions to his translations and commentaries on biblical books that the Bible must be interpreted in its simple, plain, or external sense (ẓāhir) unless the five senses, reason, tradition, or a contradictory verse dictated otherwise. 5 Saadya understood that in his arguments with the Karaites over the meaning of this or that verse, he had to prove that the simple meaning of a verse was not as they interpreted it, but rather in accord with rabbinic understanding. Polemics between Rabbanites and Karaites thus contributed to Bible exegesis that was rooted in grammar, context, and a rational approach to the text. In Spain, grammatical studies of Hebrew and biblical dictionaries began to appear in 950 CE under the influence of the surrounding Arabic culture and its development of Arab grammar (especially Arabic grammar in the context of the Koran). 6 The ongoing polemic with the Karaites also contributed to the development of reference materials. Grammars and Frank, Search Scripture Well, 230; Goldstein, “Beginnings.” H. Ben Shammai, “The Tension Between Literal Interpretation and Exegetical Freedom: Comparative Observations on Saadia’s Method,” in J.D. McAuliffe et. al., 4 5

With Reverence for the Word; Medieval Scriptural Exegesis in Judaism ,Christianity, and Islam (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), 33–50.

For the history of Spanish interpretation, see N.M. Sarna, “Hebrew and Biblical Studies in Medieval Spain,” in R.D. Barnett (ed.), The Sephardi Heritage: 6

Essays on the History and Cultural Contribution of the Jews of Spain and Portugal. Vol. 1: The Jews in Spain and Portugal before and after the Expulsion of 1492 (New York: Ktav, 1971), 323–65 (= N.M. Sarna, Studies in Biblical Interpretation

[Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2000], 81–125). More recent introductions to medieval exegesis can be found in the HBOT volumes: M. Saebø (ed.), Hebrew Bible/Old Testament: The History of Its Interpretation. Vol. I/2: The Middle Ages (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000), chapters 25, 31, 32, 33, 37; Hebrew Bible/Old Testament: The History of Its Interpretation. Vol. II: From the Renaissance to the Enlightenment (Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2008), chapters 2, 8. A most readable introduction to medieval exegesis, both Ashkenazi and Sephardic, is E.L. Greenstein, “Medieval Bible Commentaries,” in B.W. Holtz (ed.), Back to the Sources: Reading the Classic Jewish Texts (New York: Summit Books, 1984), 213–59, which includes an English bibliography. J. Kalman, “Medieval Jewish Biblical Commentaries and the State of Parshanut Studies,” Religion Compass 2/5 (2008), 819–43, lists printed editions of medieval Jewish commentary and provides a review of recent scholarship.

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dictionaries written in Arabic enabled an exegesis based upon the straightforward meaning of the verse. While the zenith of Spanish exegesis is to be found in the writings of Ibn Ezra (1089–1165) and Moses Nahmanides (1273), “the hallmarks of the Sefardic Bible commentary can be traced back to Rabbanite and Karaite works composed in Iraq and the Land of Israel as far back as the tenth century.” 7 In France, several 12th century commentators, earliest among them Rashi (1040–1105), began to engage in grammatical and contextual interpretations of the Bible and to limit their use of midrashic explanations. Because the conditions for the rise of peshaṭ interpretation which we enumerated above did not exist in medieval France, 8 scholars have agreed on three possible reasons for the turn to peshaṭ: first, there were some contacts with Spanish Bible interpretation. The Spanish influence on Ashkenaz (medieval France and Germany) increased greatly with the Almohade invasion of Spain from North Africa in the mid-12th century and the subsequent flight of Spanish Jewish scholars northward to Italy, Provence, and France. Many of these refugees, such as the Kimhis, ibn Tibbons, and Ibn Ezra undertook to translate Spanish Jewish grammatical and philosophical tracts from Arabic into Hebrew, enriching the world of Western Jewry and laying the ground for peshaṭ exegesis.9 A second motivation for peshaṭ interpretation of the Bible was la petite renaissance in 12th century France, a movement that showed interest in secular study, reason, and a return to the classics of Greece in the original language. Among the Jews, it inspired a return to the original Hebrew text of the Bible, unadorned by midrashic interpretation. 10 The third spur toward peshaṭ interpretation was the Christian-Jewish religious polemic. These factors meant that during the 12th century, commentators in Spain and France were all searching for peshaṭ, instead of the associative, inferential, and homiletic methods and teachings of the classic midrash.11 7

Frank, Search Scripture Well, 249. Frank counts David Kimhi as a Sefardic

parshan, even though he was actually born in Provence.

8 The French scholars did not read Arabic and hence were not familiar with the grammatical treatises produced in the East and in Spain. In addition, there were no Karaites in the lands of Ashkenaz. 9 I.M. Ta-Shma has raised the novel idea that peshaṭ interpretation in northern France was preceded by peshaṭ interpretation in Byzantium; idem, “HebrewByzantine Bible Exegesis ca. 1000, from the Cairo Geniza,” Tarbiz 69/2 (2000), 247–56 (Hebrew). 10 E. Touitou, Exegesis in Perpetual Motion: Studies in the Pentateuchal Commentary of Rabbi Samuel Ben Meir (Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 2003 [Hebrew]), 29. 11 Strictly speaking, Rashi used the Talmudic form of the word, peshuto shel miqra,

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The changes in exegesis brought about original interpretations not only of individual words and grammatical forms but of entire verses and chapters, since a realistic and rational context was established for the biblical narratives and the laws as well. The medieval interpreters were attempting to read the Bible in light of its grammar and syntax, and its relation to reality and rationality, but were bound by their axiomatic belief in the divine origins of the biblical text and its unity. These constrictions led to creative attempts to explain away difficulties by means of insights into biblical language and style, or by establishing a different context or background for a particular verse One such problem was the perception that biblical units sometimes have more than one opening verse, the subject of this paper. There are modern studies of the Bible whose premises, sans the ideology, are quite similar. Wilfried Warning has posited the following for his study of Leviticus: Because this study focuses exclusively on the extant text, it neither follows nor claims nor attempts any source-critical or redaction-critical hypotheses. Its sole focus is to better comprehend the means by which the extant text has been artistically arranged, that is, to detect the distinct literary devices, deliberate terminological patterns which have been created by the writer(s) of the present text.12

In critical thought, dual beginnings for a single pericope (dual incipits) are overwhelmingly ascribed to multiple sources which were conflated or to the hand of a redactor who appended his own opening to the original text. 13 By contrast, when the classical exegetes sensed that there were two opening “the simple meaning of the verse,” while his grandson Rashbam (R. Samuel ben Meir) used the unadorned form peshaṭ. In addition to the three reasons we listed, H. Liss, Creating Fictional Worlds: Peshat-Exegesis and Narrativity in Rashbam’s Commentary on the Torah (Leiden: Brill, 2011), claims that peshaṭ in France was influenced by courtly literature, which brought about an awareness of literary and narrative exegesis. 12 W. Warning, Literary Artistry in Leviticus (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 6. 13 Both explanations are to be found in the scholarly literature. A. Rofé, Introduction to the Literature of the Hebrew Bible (Jerusalem: Carmel, 2006 [Hebrew]), 116: “The members of the priestly school “took over” the literature termed JE and edited it extensively, by means of short additions to the beginnings of stories or their endings.” M. Haran, The Bible and its World (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2009 [Hebrew]), 266: “The authors of the Torah were no more than editors; they limited themselves to light touches of the pen and some chapter headings, in addition to the headings that were already present in the material in front of them.”

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formulations, they sought to account for the phenomenon by seeing it as a feature of biblical form and style and by having a particular understanding of the two formulations. In these cases, the medieval authors went well beyond commenting on grammar and syntax. I shall cite four examples of dual beginnings and the medieval commentaries that dealt with them. 14 Readers endowed with critical acumen may be able to see that, despite his presuppositions, the medieval interpreter was sometimes beset with the same problem as the modern commentator. Though medieval and modern scholars have entirely different perspectives on the Bible and indeed on the nature and goals of exegesis, there is a narrow bridge which links the old and the new, as I hope these examples will show.

1. EXODUS 19:1–2 15 ‫ָבּאוּ‬

‫ַבּיּוֹם ַהזֶּ ה‬

‫יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל‬

‫יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל ֵמ ֶא ֶרץ ִמ ְצ ָריִם‬-‫ְבּנֵי‬

‫ ָשׁם‬-‫ַבּ ִמּ ְד ָבּר וַ יִּ ַחן‬

‫ִסינַ י וַ יַּ ֲחנוּ‬

‫ישׁי ְל ֵצאת‬ ִ ‫ ַבּח ֶֹדשׁ ַה ְשּׁ ִל‬.1 ‫ִמ ְד ַבּר ִסינָ י׃‬ ‫ וַ יִּ ְסעוּ ֵמ ְר ִפ ִידים וַ יָּ בֹאוּ ִמ ְד ַבּר‬.2 ‫נֶ גֶ ד ָה ָהר׃‬

1. On the third new moon after the Israelites had gone forth from the land of Egypt, on that very day, they entered the wilderness of Sinai. 2. Having journeyed from Rephidim, they entered the wilderness of Sinai and encamped in the wilderness. Israel encamped there in front of the mountain. I have dealt previously with opening and closing formulations in the following papers: I.B Gottlieb, “Introductory Formulae in the Pentateuch,” Mehqarim Belashon 11–12 (2008), 35–50 (Hebrew); “From Formula to Expression in Some Hebrew and Aramaic Texts,” Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society 31/2 (2008), 47–61; “Sof Davar: Biblical Endings,” Prooftexts 11 (1991), 213–24; “Biblical Beginnings: The Openings of the Five Torah Books,” in M. Avioz et al. (eds.), Zer Rimonim: Studies in Biblical Literature and Jewish Exegesis Presented to Professor Rimon Kasher (Atlanta: SBL, forthcoming). 15 The English Bible translations are taken from NJPS; Rashi (1040–1105) from A.M. Silbermann and M. Rosenbaum, Chumash with Targum Onkelos, Haphtaroth, and Rashi’s Commentary (London: Shapiro Valentine & Co., 1934); Rashbam (France, 1080–1160) from M.I. Lockshin, Rashbam’s Commentary on Exodus (Brown Judaic Studies, 310; Atlanta, Georgia: Scholars Press, 1997); Nahmanides (Spain, 1194–1270) from C.B. Chavel, Ramban (Nachmanides) Commentary on the Torah (New York: Shilo Publishing House, 1974). Translations of passages from Ibn Ezra (Spain, 1089–1150) and Sforno (Italy, 1475–1550) are my own. Bracketed words in Rashi, Nahmanides, and Rashbam appear in the editions I used; some bracketed verse references were added by me. 14

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MEDIEVAL COMMENTARIES Rashi (19:2): And they journeyed from Rephidim—What does Scripture teach us by again expressly stating from where they set forth on the journey, for is it not already written (Ex.17:1) that they had encamped at Rephidim and it is therefore evident that they set forth from there?! But Scripture repeats it in order to make a comparison with the character of their journey from Rephidim to that of their arrival in the wilderness of Sinai! How was it in the case of their arrival in the wilderness of Sinai? They were in a state of penitence [as shown by the unanimity with which they encamped before the mountain: cf. Rashi on the end of this verse]! Thus, too, their setting forth from Rephidim was in a state of repentance for the sin they had committed there (see 17:2).16 Nahmanides (19:1): … Now Rashi wrote: “And they journeyed from Rephidim… so also was their departure [from Rephidim] with repentance.” Thus Rashi’s language. But I have not understood this. It says in connection with all journeys: and they pitched [camp] in Elim;

And they took their journey from Elim… and they came unto the wilderness of Sin (16:1); and they journeyed from the wilderness of Sin… and encamped in Rephidim (17:1); and so the entire section of Mas’ei [Num. 33] is written.

COMMENT Rashi wants to know why this pericope mentions that the Israelites journeyed from Rephidim. A priori it would seem that there is no basis for Rashi’s question, for the language “and they journeyed”—“and they encamped” is the regular formula used for the travels of the Israelites in the wilderness. This is precisely Nahmanides’ question. In fact, in the verse to which Rashi was referring when he said, “for is it not already written that they had encamped at Rephidim,” we find the exact same style: “From the

16 As stated in the previous note, I relied on the English translation of Rashi by Silbermann and Rosenbaum. They, however, do not note in their introduction which text of Rashi they used. A critical edition of Rashi on the Pentateuch was produced by A. Berliner in 1866 and again in 1905. C. Chavel’s edition of Rashi is based on Berliner. Currently, a new critical edition of the Rabbinic Bible (Miqraot Gedolot) has been prepared by M. Cohen of Bar-Ilan University, under the title Miqraot Gedolot HaKeter, and it is this edition of the text that I have consulted for the commentaries referred to in this paper.

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wilderness of Sin the whole Israelite community journeyed 17 by stages as the Lord would command. They encamped at Rephidim, and there was no water for the people to drink” (Exod 17:1). Rashi could have asked at that point as well, “Why did the verse state, ‘From the wilderness of Sin the whole Israelite community journeyed,’ when it already had stated in the previous chapter that they had encamped in the wilderness of Sin (16:1), and so certainly they would now be journeying forth from there?” Yet Rashi asked that question only about our text, Exod 19:2. It would seem therefore that Rashi’s question, “What does Scripture teach us by again expressly stating from where they set forth on the journey,” stems from a sense of repetition and redundancy. Having already said in 19:1, “On that very day, they entered the wilderness of Sinai,” it was entirely superfluous to write in v. 2, “Having journeyed from Rephidim,” for they had already reached their destination. Perhaps Rashi had in mind another repetition in these verses, though he did not state it: “they entered the wilderness of Sinai” in 19:2 is a needless repetition of the phrase “they entered the wilderness of Sinai” in the previous verse. Nahmanides was well aware of the stylistic pair “they journeyed”— “they encamped,” found over and over again in Num. 33, and hence he expressed his wonder at Rashi’s question. However, a closer look shows that our two verses do not really follow the established pattern that Nahmanides cited. In Numbers, we find the pattern consisting of “they journeyed from A, encamped in B; they journeyed from B and encamped at C.” 18 Here, however, the order is completely reversed: “They entered the wilderness of Sinai—[they] journeyed from Rephidim—they entered the wilderness of Sinai—[they] encamped in the wilderness.” The encampment at Sinai (“they entered”) is stated before the departure from Rephidim. Therefore Rashi felt that there was no point in mentioning their departure from Rephidim, which should have been stated prior to entering the wilderness at Sinai. Of course, had ch. 19 begun at v. 2, Rashi would have had no problem, for then the accepted pattern would have been preserved: “Having journeyed from Rephidim, they entered the wilderness of Sinai and encamped in the wilderness.”19 Similarly, had the chapter begun with v. 1 alone, no problem would have arisen. We may conclude that the real

NJPS: “continued.” The Hebrew reads, “‫ויסעו‬.” In the NJPS translation: “They set out from Succoth and encamped at Eitha… They set out from Eitha… (Num 33:6–7). 19 In Hebrew, ‫ ויסעו… ויחנו‬. 17 18

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problem which lay behind Rashi’s question was the double incipit that he sensed in the first two verses of ch. 19. The sense of a dual opening bothered Nahmanides no less, as may be seen in his opening remark to Exod 19:1: In the third month (Ex. 19:1)—Scripture should have said, “And they journeyed from Rephidim and they encamped in the wilderness of Sinai,

in the third month after their going forth from the land of Egypt,” just as it said above concerning the wilderness of Sin [17:1]. But [Scripture’s manner of expression here is] due to the fact that their coming into the wilderness of Sinai was an occasion for joy and a festival to them, and that since they left Egypt they had been yearning for it… For this reason, Scripture begins this section with the statement that in the third month… the same day that the month began, they came there [as they had eagerly anticipated]. Following this opening, Scripture reverts [to the usual style] as in the other journeys: And they journeyed from Rephidim [19:2].

Ramban had expected to find the usual style, “they journeyed, they encamped.” He therefore attributed the wording of the first verse in Exod 19 to its heightened poetic style, as a way to express the great enthusiasm of the people upon their arrival at Mount Sinai. Like most biblical poetry, this verse is composed of two parallel stichs; the first limb gives the date as, “On the third new moon,” whereas the second reiterates and reinforces the first: “on that very day.” A previous chapter in the Torah (Gen 21:1–2) seems to be similarly structured:

‫ ָשׂ ָרה ַכּ ֲא ֶשׁר ָא ָמר וַ יַּ ַﬠשׂ ה' לְ ָשׂ ָרה ַכּ ֲא ֶשׁר ִדּ ֵבּר׃‬-‫וַ ה' ָפּ ַקד ֶאת‬ ‫�הים׃‬ ִ ‫ ִדּ ֶבּר אֹתוֹ ֱא‬-‫מּוֹﬠד ֲא ֶשׁר‬ ֵ ַ‫וַ ַתּ ַהר וַ ֵתּלֶ ד ָשׂ ָרה לְ ַא ְב ָר ָהם ֵבּן לִ זְ ֻקנָ יו ל‬

1. The Lord took note of Sarah as He had promised, and the Lord did for Sarah as He had spoken. 2. Sarah conceived and bore a son to Abraham in his old age, at the set time of which God had spoken.

On the face of it, this too is a dual incipit, the first verse poetic, the second rendered in prose. 20 The poetic cadence and parallelism of the first verse did not, however, make an impression on E.A. Speiser, who notes of v. 1 that “the second half of the verse duplicates the first. It appears to stem from P, with a secondary change of Elohim to Yahweh, induced by the 1052F

It is of interest to note that in both texts the continuation is also rendered in poetic form: see Gen 21:7; Exod 19:3–6. 20

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ISAAC B. GOTTLIEB

preceding clause.” 21 He also parses v. 2 as stemming from J (2a) and P (2b), because the name Elohim is used in the second half. 22 I am in agreement with Speiser on one point: he says nothing about a redundancy between the two verses, and rightly so. Even if one verse or the other might have sufficed to begin the chapter, in my opinion both verses together are not mere repetition, because Sarah giving birth in v. 2 was the outcome of the Lord taking note of her plight in the first verse. In Exod 19, however, the almost identical wording in both verses, “they entered the wilderness of Sinai,” is clearly repetitious and at odds with the usual formula for listing journeys.

CRITICAL SCHOLARSHIP M. Noth assigns Exod 19:1–2a to P, and 2b to JE. Regarding a sense of duplication in the incipit, Noth says: “The repetition in v. 2b of the remark about this encamping in v. 2ab indicates a fragment from the introductory phrases of one of the older sources which has in other respects fallen out in favour of P.”23 B. Childs makes no mention of any duality between Exod 19:1 and 2.24 In W.H.C. Propp’s source analysis of the Horeb-Sinai narrative, he indeed raises the question of a dual incipit: To begin with, 19:1–2 is somewhat awkward. … Why are we told twice that Israel “came to the Sinai Wilderness” and twice that they “camped”? On the one hand, this might be the composition of a single writer, who began his story with a kind of heading and then backtracked to explain whence the people had come (Houtman 1996: 439). In other words, “And they set forth from Rephidim” could be a digression framed by Wiederaufnahme (cf. Kuhl 1952). On the other hand… I am more inclined to see a supplemented text. The redactor deliberately placed the words “And they set forth from 21 E.A. Speiser, Genesis (AB, 1; Garden City: Doubleday, 1964), 154. However, in his marking of the sources on p. 153, he marks vv. 1–2 as J, noting that “it did not seem practical to reflect such a possibility [that v. 1b stems from P] in the translation” (ibid., 154). 22 Ibid., 154, n. 2b. 23 M. Noth, Exodus: A Commentary (trans. J.S. Bowden; OTL, Westminster Press: Philadelphia, 1962), 157. 24 B.S. Childs, The Book of Exodus: A Critical, Theological Commentary (OTL; Westminster Press: Philadelphia, 1974), 342. Nor could I find any reference to 19:1–2 in E. Blum, Studien zur Komposition des Pentateuch (BZAW, 189; Walter de Gruyter: Berlin, 1990).

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Rephidim and came to the Sinai Wilderness and camped in the wilderness” inside a preexisting “In the third month of Israel’s Sons going out… And Israel camped there, opposite the mountain.”… One might have rather expected, given the editor’s procedure elsewhere, “and they set forth from Rephidim and came to the Sinai Wilderness. In the third month of Israel’s Sons going out from the land of Egypt, on this day, they came to the Sinai Wilderness. And Israel camped there opposite the mountain.” Apparently, the redactor wished instead to emphasize the month of Israel’s arrival.25

I quoted Propp at length because his idea that ‫ ויבואו מדבר סיני‬is a resumptive repetition, following ‫ באו מדבר סיני‬in the previous verse, could have been taken right out of Nahmanides’ commentary on Exod 19:1, as cited above. 26 So, too, the verse reconstructed as Propp might have wished to see it is exactly the same as Nahmanides posited in his commentary, and the redactor’s presumed emphasis, “on the third month, on that day,” is just as Ramban had explained. In fact, in his notes on these verses, Propp names Nahmanides as the source for the meaning of the phrase “on that day:” “The arrival at Sinai is the culmination of all the preceding chapters of Exodus. In other words, ‘this day’ implies, ‘This was, at last, the day’ (Ramban).” 27 This is not to say that the medieval exegetes were always on the mark. Because they were not of a critical mind regarding the biblical text, they did not always identify a repetitious incipit. Furthermore, they were not rigorously systematic; the northern French exegetes recognized certain elements of biblical style to be derekh ha-miqra’ot, “the way of Scripture,” but they did not compile lists of incipits, endings, or connecting terms. 28 The 1058F

1059F

106F

25 W.H.C. Propp, Exodus 19–40 (AB, 2A; New York: Doubleday, 2006), 141. References quoted by Propp are to C. Houtman, Exodus. Vol. 2 (HCOT; trans. S. Woudstra; Kampen: Kok Publishing House, 1996), as well as C. Kuhl, “Die ‘Wiederaufnahme’—ein literarkritisches Prinzip?,” ZAW 64 (1952), 1–11. 26 See Nahmanides’ commentary on Exod 19:1: “Following this opening, Scripture reverts [to the usual style] as in the other journeys: And they journeyed from Rephidim [19:2]”.This is an instance of a resumptive repetition. 27 Propp, Exodus, 154. Blum, Studien, 154, uses the phrase “on this day” to maintain that ch. 18 does not precede ch. 19 chronologically: “Geradezu einen offenen Widerspruch bewirkt die Lokalisierung des Jethro-Besuchs am Gotttesberg (v. 5) gegenüber der unmissverstandlichen und betonten Angabe von Ex 19, 1f., wonach Israel erst hier an ‘den Berg’ gelangte.” 28 However, they made a start. See Rashbam at Gen 22:1 on occurrences of the expression “some time afterward,” in M.I. Lockshin, Rabbi Samuel Ben Meir’s Commentary on Genesis: An Annotated Translation (New York: Mellen, 1989).

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next example illustrates this absence. Most of the traditional commentators see only one opening formula. Had they thought in terms of fixed formulae, they might have seen two separate incipits here. However, their explanations of the text, differences of opinion, and silence where one might expect comment, all alert the modern reader to the possibility that there are actually two beginnings here. I shall try to show that each formula serves to introduce a separate pericope, which the medieval commentators have melded into a single unit by their interpretation.

2. EXODUS 35:1–5 ‫אמר ֲא ֵל ֶהם ֵא ֶלּה ַה ְדּ ָב ִרים‬ ֶ ֹ ‫ וַ יַּ ְק ֵהל מ ֶֹשׁה ֶאת ָכּל ֲﬠ ַדת ְבּנֵ י יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל וַ יּ‬.1 ‫וּביּוֹם‬ ַ ‫אכה‬ ָ ‫יָמים ֵתּ ָﬠ ֶשׂה ְמ ָל‬ ִ ‫ ֵשׁ ֶשׁת‬.2 .‫ֲא ֶשׁר ִצוָּ ה ה' ַל ֲﬠשׂ ֹת א ָֹתם‬ ‫אכה‬ ָ ‫יִהיֶה לָ ֶכם ק ֶֹדשׁ ַשׁ ַבּת ַשׁ ָבּתוֹן ַלה' ָכּל ָהע ֶֹשׂה בוֹ ְמ ָל‬ ְ ‫יﬠי‬ ִ ‫ַה ְשּׁ ִב‬ ָ ‫י‬ ‫אמר‬ ֶ ֹ ‫ וַ יּ‬.4 (‫ )פ‬.‫יכם ְבּיוֹם ַה ַשּׁ ָבּת‬ ֶ ‫ לֹא ְת ַב ֲﬠרוּ ֵאשׁ ְבּכֹל מ ְֹשׁב ֵֹת‬.3 .‫וּמת‬ .‫מ ֶֹשׁה ֶאל ָכּל ֲﬠ ַדת ְבּנֵ י יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל ֵלאמֹר זֶ ה ַה ָדּ ָבר ֲא ֶשׁר ִצוָּ ה ה' ֵלאמֹר‬ ‫רוּמת ה' זָ ָהב‬ ַ ‫יא ָה ֵאת ְתּ‬ ֶ ‫יְב‬ ִ ‫רוּמה ַלה' כֹּל נְ ִדיב ִלבּוֹ‬ ָ ‫ ְקחוּ ֵמ ִא ְתּ ֶכם ְתּ‬.5 ‫וָ ֶכ ֶסף וּנְ ח ֶֹשׁת‬ 1. Moses then convoked the whole Israelite community and said to them: “These are the things that the Lord has commanded you to do: 2. On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day you shall have a Sabbath of complete rest, holy to the Lord; whoever does any work on it shall be put to death. 3. You shall kindle no fire throughout your settlements on the Sabbath day. 4. Moses said further to the whole community of Israelites: This is what the Lord has commanded: 5. Take from among you gifts to the Lord; everyone whose heart so moves him shall bring them—gifts for the Lord: gold, silver, and copper.”

COMMENT With two exceptions, all the commentaries (cited below) saw in the clause “Moses then convoked” ‫ ויקהל משה‬the opening formula for the entire chapter that followed, which describes the collection of goods to be used in the construction of the Sanctuary. No doubt they were influenced by the Nahmanides makes frequent reference to resumptive repetitions, and R. Joseph Qara and Rashbam identified a type of foreshadowing (haqdamot). On this style in Torah literature, See N.M. Sarna, “The Anticipatory Use of Information as a Literary Feature of the Genesis Narratives,” in R.E. Friedman (ed.), The Creation of Sacred Literature (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981), 76–82 (= Sarna, Studies, 211–20); Liss, Creating Fictional Worlds, 96–9, calls this style “literary anticipation.”

MEDIEVAL JEWISH EXEGESIS ON DUAL INCIPITS

393

fact that ‫ ויקהל משה‬stood at the beginning of a weekly Torah reading, Parashat Vayakhel, whose entire subject (Exod 35:1–38:20) was the tabernacle. Perhaps these exegetes also wondered why the usual introductory formulation for legal portions, “And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, Speak to the sons of Israel,” 29 was not used. In their comments, Rashbam and Ibn Ezra imply that the usual formula would have been inadequate, for it was not just a question of passing on a command; the people had to be physically gathered together in order that they might hand over the goods which they were donating to the Sanctuary, as is made clear in Exod 35:5, “Take from among you gifts to the Lord.” Vayaqhel meant that Moses actually assembled the entire community. Further, both Rashbam and Ibn Ezra in his short commentary to Exodus 30 note that the people had to be summoned for the additional purpose of collecting the half-shekel that each male had to donate for the Sanctuary (Exod 30:13). 31 This amount is called a terumah, or gift (ibid.), the same word used for the materials donated to the sanctuary in 35:5. Ibn Ezra pointed to the plural forms, “these are the things” (35:1) ‫“ ;אלה הדברים‬to do [them]” (ibid.) ‫לעשת אתם‬, as proof that the people had to be assembled for both purposes, to donate goods to the Sanctuary and to pay the halfshekel.32 Like Rashbam and Ibn Ezra, Nahmanides was also of the opinion that the words “Moses then convoked” opened the pericope about the sanctuary. He too explained the plural forms “these are the things” and “to do them” as referring to “the work of the Sanctuary and all its implements.” In Nahmanides’ view, vv. 2–3, which speak of the Sabbath, were inserted in order to convey a midrash halakha, or rabbinic ruling: work necessary to build the sanctuary and its implements may not be performed on the Sabbath. This teaching was conveyed through the juxtaposition of the prohibition to toil on the Sabbath (35:2–3) with the order to gather donations for the tabernacle (35:1). In sum, Rashbam, Ibn Ezra in both his 106F

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‫וַ יְ ַד ֵבּר ה' ֶאל מ ֶֹשׁה ֵלּאמֹר ַדּ ֵבּר ֶאל ָכּל ֲﬠ ַדת ְבּנֵ י יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל וְ ָא ַמ ְר ָתּ ֲא ֵל ֶהם‬ Ibn Ezra wrote two commentaries to Exodus: the shorter version he completed in Lucca, Italy (1142–1145) and the longer one in Rouen, France (1153). 31 The similarity between Rashbam and Ibn Ezra raises the possibility that one saw the commentary of the other. On this question, see M.I. Lockshin, “Tradition or Context: Two Exegetes Struggle with Peshat,” in J. Neusner et al. (eds.), From Ancient Israel to Modern Judaism, Essays in Honor of Marvin Fox. Vol. 2 (Brown Judaic Studies, 173; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), 173–86, here 174 n. 5 and 6. 32 In both versions of his commentary, Ibn Ezra stresses that “the tabernacle and its vessels” are the plural objects of the words “these are the things,” “to do them.” 29 30

394

ISAAC B. GOTTLIEB

long and short commentaries, and Nahmanides all considered “Moses then convoked” to be the opening formula for the subject of the sanctuary. None of them paid heed to the fact that the Masoretes had marked the beginning of a new parasha or paragraph at 35:4 with the symbol (‫)פ‬, which would be entirely out of place if 35:1 were indeed the opening for all that followed. Ibn Ezra’s remarks in his short commentary came as an explicit retort to Saadyah Gaon, as cited by Ibn Ezra, who insisted that “these are the things” and “to do them” in 35:1 referred to the Sabbath, whose details followed in vv. 2–3, and not to the sanctuary. According to Saadyah, the plural objects referred to the 39 types of work which the Israelites were commanded to refrain from doing on the Sabbath (35:2–3). 33 In other words, the opening formula “Moses then convoked” introduced the law of the Sabbath and not the construction of the sanctuary. The other medieval commentator who seems to agree with Saadyah is Rashi. Rashi did not deal explicitly with the object of the phrases “these are the things” and “to do them,” as did Saadyah. However, I sense his agreement with Saadyah based on his comment at 35:2: “He intentionally mentioned to them the prohibition in reference to the Sabbath before the command about the building of the Tabernacle” [emphasis mine, I.G.]. This means that Rashi did not see ‫ ויקהל משה‬as the opening formula for the subject of the Sanctuary, which only comes later, at 35:4. For both Saadyah and Rashi, the command about the tabernacle begins at that verse with the words, “Moses said further to the whole community of Israelites: This is what the Lord has commanded,” ‫זה הדבר‬. Here are the comments of the medieval exegetes themselves: 1065F

MEDIEVAL COMMENTARIES Rashi (35:1): “And Moses assembled”— … It (the word ‫ ) ויקהל‬is used in the verbal form that expresses the idea of causing a thing to be done, because one does not actually assemble people with one’s hands, but they are assembled by his command. (35:2) “Six days may work be done” —He intentionally mentioned to them the prohibition in reference to the Sabbath before the command 33 The number of prohibited actions on the Sabbath (39) is a rabbinic concept (Mishnah Shabbat 7,2). Ibn Ezra in his retort (short version) rejects Saadyah’s explanation on the grounds that “to do them” refers to taking positive action, such as gathering items for the sanctuary, and not to refraining from action or prohibited work on the Sabbath.

MEDIEVAL JEWISH EXEGESIS ON DUAL INCIPITS

395

about the building of the tabernacle in order to intimate that it does not set aside (supersede) the Sabbath. Rashbam: “Moses convoked [the whole Israelite community]”: In order to take from each of them half a shekel, and in order to instruct them34 about the construction of the Tabernacle. Ibn Ezra, short version: And the reason for [the choice of the word] Vayaqhel, because all of the community 35 was required to pay a ransom for themselves [a reference to the half-shekel in Exod 30:12]. The Gaon [Saadyah] said, that the words “these are the things” ‫ אלה הדברים‬refer to the commandment of the Sabbath, which is equated to all the other commandments by virtue of the chief works [avot melakhot—39 activities prohibited on the Sabbath]. But the correct explanation in my opinion is that “these are the things” refers to the items necessary for the tabernacle and its vessels, therefore the verse says, “to do them [in the plural].” 1067F

Ibn Ezra, long version: And the reason for [the choice of the word] Vayaqhel, that everyone hear from his [Moses] mouth about the Tabernacle, so that they all donate. And the meaning of “these are the things”—the Tabernacle and it vessels, which must be constructed; therefore it says, “to do them.” Nahmanides: “These are the things which the Eternal hath commanded, that ye should do them. Six days shall work be done.” The expression, these are the things which the Eternal hath commanded refers to the construction of the Tabernacle, all its vessels and all its various works. He preceded [the explanation of the construction of the Tabernacle] with the law of the Sabbath, meaning to say that the work of these things should be done during the six days, but not on the seventh day which is holy to G-d. It is from here that we learn the principle that the work of the tabernacle does not set aside the Sabbath.

Both Rashi and Nahmanides cited the halakhic midrash that the Sanctuary may not be built on the Sabbath. As I pointed out above, this ruling was based on the juxtaposition of the Sabbath and the Sanctuary, which occurs

34 35

Lehazhiram can also mean “to warn them,” see further.

Ibn Ezra uses Heb. Qahal, a play on the opening word Vayaqhel.

396

ISAAC B. GOTTLIEB

several times in the Pentateuch, and on which the Rabbis commented that one may not construct the tabernacle on the Sabbath. 36 Nahmanides was relatively brief in his comments on Exod 35:1. However, upon reaching Lev 23:1–4, he realized that the text clearly contained two opening formulae, “These are my fixed times,” “These are the set times of the Lord.” They were not continuous but were separated by one verse. Further, the Masoretes had marked a new paragraph (parasha) before the second incipit. This was remarkably similar to the case of Exod 35:1–2: two opening formulae in vv. 1 and 4; two verses separating them which dealt with a different subject; the Masoretic sign of a new parasha (‫)פ‬ after the “interruption” and before the second incipit. Here is the text of Leviticus and the comments of Rashi, Ibn Ezra, and Nahmanides:

3. LEVITICUS 23:1–4 ‫ְבּנֵ י יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל וְ ָא ַמ ְר ָתּ ֲא ֵל ֶהם‬ ‫ ֵשׁ ֶשׁת‬.3 .‫מוֹﬠ ָדי‬ ֲ ‫ֵא ֶלּה ֵהם‬ ‫ַשׁ ָבּתוֹן ִמ ְק ָרא ק ֶֹדשׁ ָכּל‬ ‫ ֵא ֶלּה‬.4 (‫ )פ‬.‫מוֹשׁב ֵֹתיכֶ ם‬ ְ

‫ ַדּ ֵבּר ֶאל‬.2 .‫ וַ יְ ַד ֵבּר ה’ ֶאל מ ֶֹשׁה ֵלּאמֹר‬.1 ֲ ‫מוֹﬠ ֵדי ה’ ֲא ֶשׁר ִתּ ְק ְראוּ א ָֹתם ִמ ְק ָר ֵאי ק ֶֹדשׁ‬ ‫יﬠי ַשׁ ַבּת‬ ִ ‫וּביּוֹם ַה ְשּׁ ִב‬ ַ ‫אכה‬ ָ ‫יָמים ֵתּ ָﬠ ֶשׂה ְמ ָל‬ ִ ‫אכה לֹא ַת ֲﬠשׂוּ ַשׁ ָבּת ִהוא ַלה’ ְבּכֹל‬ ָ ‫ְמ ָל‬ ‫מוֹﬠ ָדם‬ ֲ ‫מוֹﬠ ֵדי ה’ ִמ ְק ָר ֵאי ק ֶֹדשׁ ֲא ֶשׁר ִתּ ְק ְראוּ א ָֹתם ְבּ‬ ֲ

1. The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the Israelite people and say to them: 2. “These are my fixed times, the fixed times of the Lord, which you shall proclaim as sacred occasions. 3. On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day there shall be a Sabbath of compete rest, a sacred occasion. You shall do no work; it shall be a Sabbath of the Lord throughout your settlements. 4. These are the set times of the Lord, the sacred occasions, which you shall celebrate each at its appointed time.”

MEDIEVAL COMMENTARIES Rashi (23:3): Six days [may work be done but the seventh day is the Sabbath of strict rest]—What relation is there between the Sabbath and the festive seasons? But by putting both into juxtaposition Scripture intends to teach you that he who desecrates the festivals is regarded as 36 For example, BT Yebamot 6a: “For it was taught: Since it might have been assumed that the building of the sanctuary should supersede the Sabbath, it was explicitly stated, Ye shall keep My Sabbaths, and reverence My Sanctuary (Lev. 19:30); it is the duty of all of you to honor Me.” I did not find such a teaching for our verse, but Rashi’s language attests to a derasha based on adjacent passages.

MEDIEVAL JEWISH EXEGESIS ON DUAL INCIPITS though he has desecrated the Sabbath, and that he who keeps the festivals is regarded as though he had kept the Sabbath (Siphra). (23:4): These are the appointed festivals of the Lord—Above (v. 2), where similar words are used, Scripture is speaking of proclaiming the year to be a leap-year, here it is speaking of the ‫קדוש החדש‬, sanctification of the month. Ibn Ezra (23:2): … and the reason to say, “These are My fixed times” [in the plural] because there are many Sabbaths in a year. Nahmanides (23:2): The correct interpretation appears to me to be that the meaning of the verse the appointed seasons of the Eternal, which ye

shall proclaim to be holy convocations, even these are My appointed seasons, is that it refers [only] to the festivals mentioned further on in the sections: In the first month etc. [but it does not refer to the Sabbath]. It is for this reason that He states there once again, These are the appointed seasons of the Eternal, because He had interrupted with the subject of the Sabbath. Thus He states, the appointed seasons of the Eternal, which ye shall proclaim to be holy convocations, even these are My appointed seasons, meaning that no manner of servile work be done on them, but the Sabbath you are to keep, making it a Sabbath of solemn rest from all manner of work whatsoever, for He admonishes concerning the Sabbath many times. He further alludes here [to the law that even] when the Sabbath falls on one of the days of the festivals, we must not suspend [the law of the Sabbath] so that the preparation of food be permitted on it [as it is when it falls on a weekday, but instead it is prohibited].

A similar case [where the phrase these are refers to the continuation of a subject which had previously been mentioned, because in the middle Scripture interrupts with another subject], is the verse, These are the words which the Eternal hath commanded, that ye should do them [Ex. 35:1], which refers to the tabernacle and its vessels which he [Moses] will mention in the second section, and [in the next verses] he interrupts with the Sabbath: Six days shall work be done, and on the seventh day there shall be to you a holy day etc.; and then he again says, This is the thing which the eternal commanded… Take ye from among you an offering, this being the [same] command that Scripture had mentioned at the beginning, but because it was interrupted with another subject, Scripture had to start from the beginning again.

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ISAAC B. GOTTLIEB

COMMENT Rashi refers to the juxtaposition of the Sabbath and the festivals and derives from it a moral, as cited in Sifra, the tannaitic midrash on Leviticus. His comment on v. 4, “These are the set times of the Lord,” takes notice of the earlier opening sentence, “These are my fixed times” (23:2), but explains, in the fashion of rabbinic interpretation, that each opening comes to teach a different law. He makes no mention of the fact that the Sabbath is not a festival and hence cannot be included under the rubric of “sacred occasions” (23:2) nor does he note that these two opening formulae that introduce a single topic are practically identical. Both of his comments are in the midrashic mode; the first is derived from juxtaposition and the second isolates each verse in order to teach a separate lesson. There is absolutely no attention paid to the entire context. Ibn Ezra, as opposed to Rashi, thinks that the opening verse, “These are My fixed times,” introduces the Sabbath or Sabbaths of the year, hence the plural “times.” Presumably, he thinks that the second incipit in v. 4 is the introduction to the festivals that follow. Despite their differences, Ibn Ezra, like Rashi, is not bothered by a sense of duplication or repetition in vv. 2 and 4. Neither is he troubled by the interpretive crux: How can the Sabbath be included among festive days which have to be declared by the people (“which you shall proclaim as sacred occasions,” Lev 23:2) if the Sabbath is divinely ordained and not at all dependent on the lunar calendar? Nahmanides (Ramban) stands far apart from them in his reading of the text. Ramban understood that the subject of the entire chapter was the holy days, not the Sabbath. The two introductory formulae, “These are My fixed times” (Lev 23:2), “These are the set times of the Lord” (23:4) are separated by a single verse about the Sabbath (Lev23:3). The Sabbath must therefore be seen as an interpolation and interruption. Because the subject of the holy days was abruptly ceased, biblical style called for a resumption of the main subject, worded as closely as possible to the original opening. That is why vv. 2 and 4 are practically identical. In the twentieth century, this style was termed resumptive repetition or Wiederaufnahme. 37 The similarity of Lev 23 to our case, noted Nahmanides, is striking. In Exod 35, after the introductory “Moses then convoked,” the subject of the Sanctuary is interrupted, as it were, by two verses about the Sabbath, 35:2–3.38 In v. 4, the text returns to deal with the Sanctuary. Like Lev 23:4, 37 Nahmanides was partial to this phenomenon and made frequent use of it in his commentary. See S. Talmon, “The Presentation of Synchroneity and Simultaneity in Biblical Narrative,” Scripta Hierosolymitana 27 (1978), 9–26. 38 In both pericopes, the Sabbath interrupts the main subject. On this issue, see

MEDIEVAL JEWISH EXEGESIS ON DUAL INCIPITS

399

Exod 35:4 is also marked as a new parasha or pericope. If so, we should be looking for two formulaic openings in the four verses of Exod 35:1–4 as well. This is exactly what Nahmanides proceeds to do. In his comments on Lev 23, Nahmanides identifies the opening formula for the tabernacle and its implements in Exod 35 not with the phrase “Moses then convoked,” but rather with the remainder of that verse: “These are the words ‫אלה הדברים‬ which the Eternal hath commanded, that ye should do them” (Exod 35:1). He then uses the words for ‘interruption’ (hifsiq) and ‘resumption’ (ḥazar ve‘amar) several times in this passage. He notes that resuming the subject of the tabernacle after an interruption about the Sabbath requires a return to the opening formula or as close to it as possible (ḥazar, laḥazor u-lehatḥil barishona). The resumptive repetition took the form of a second incipit, ‫זה‬ ‫הדבר‬, “This is what the Lord has commanded: Take from among you gifts to the Lord” (35:4–5). Nahmanides’ ear for biblical style was perfectly tuned; the two phrases, ‫“ אלה הדברים‬these are the words” and ‫“ זה הדבר‬this is the thing (which the Lord has commanded),” are indeed, as we shall soon see, standard introductory formulae. In both Exod 35 and Lev 23, Nahmanides saw the need for a resumptive repetition following an interruption; this was his explanation for what appeared to be, in each case, two introductory formulae for a single subject. 39 We might say that Nahmanides raised resumptive repetitions to the status of a rule that he applied equally to both cases. The application of such a rule, rather than offering an ad hoc solution for each problem, lent the interpretation a sense of universal validity. This was a feature of the peshaṭ approach that Nahmanides advocated. 40 To sum up, Rashbam, Ibn Ezra, and even Nahmanides at Exod 3541 all saw in the phrase “Moses convoked” an opening formula to a single 107F

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below. 39 In Leviticus, Nahmanides realized that in each case we were dealing with two separate parashot, for so they are marked by the Masoretes. Nonetheless, he viewed each case as a single subject that had been interrupted and then resumed, albeit in a new chapter. 40 Nahmanides’ exegetical approach is quite complex; see B. Septimus, “‘Open Rebuke and Concealed Love’: Nahmanides and the Andalusian Tradition,” in I. Twersky (ed.), Rabbi Moses Nahmanides (Ramban): Explorations in His Religious and Literary Virtuosity (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1983), 17–23; Y. Elman, “Moses ben Nahman/Nahmanides (Ramban),” in M. Saebø (ed.), Hebrew Bible/Old Testament: The History of Its Interpretation. Vol. I/2, 416–32. 41 Nahmanides changed his mind at Lev 23, as explained above. For Nahmanides’ use of resumptive repetition, see I.B. Gottlieb, Order in the Bible

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subject, the tabernacle. In contrast, Rashi and Saadyah both saw the first three verses (35:1–3) as an independent parasha dealing with the Sabbath. Saadyah’s opinion was related by Ibn Ezra in his short commentary: “The Gaon [Saadyah] said, that the words ‘these are the things’ ‫ אלה הדברים‬refer to the commandment of the Sabbath, which is equated to all the other commandments by virtue of the chief works [avot melakhot—39 activities prohibited on the Sabbath].” Saadyah mentioned the 39 activities to justify the plural form, “these are the things.” It is possible that Saadyah, like Nahmanides, identified “these are the things” (35:1) as the introductory phrase (incipit) to the Sabbath, rather than “Moses convoked,” but this is not certain. 42 Is the phrase “Moses convoked” (vayaqhel Moshe) a formulaic opening? To judge by its various appearances, vayaqhel does not qualify as an opening formula. 43 However, both ‫ אלה הדברים‬and ‫ זה הדבר‬are exclusively formulaic.44 These are the very phrases respectively cited by Nahmanides (Lev 23:2) as the opening formula and its resumptive repetition in Exod 35. In his view, what we actually have in Exod 35 are two separate sections, one on the Sabbath (35:1–3) and the other about the tabernacle and its vessels (35:4–40:38), each headed up by separate but related introductory phrases. 1074F

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(Jerusalem: Magnes Press/Bar-Ilan Press, 2009 [Hebrew]), 331. 42 We actually have Saadyah’s commentary to Exodus as preserved in Geniza manuscripts, chief among them an MS in St. Petersburg (Leningrad) containing his comments on Exod 27–40. These were published by Y. Ratzaby, Rav Saadya’s Commentary on Exodus (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1998 [Hebrew]). On p. 241, commenting on our verse, Saadyah writes: “And so far as the phrase ‘these are the things,’ ‫ אלה הדברים‬we think it would have been more appropriate to write ‘this is the thing’ ‫ זה הדבר‬since we are speaking of the (single) commandment of the Sabbath. But it was not written thus because the Sabbath has many matters, many prohibitions and many positive customs…” 43 Vayaqhel appears seven times in the Bible, twice in the Pentateuch. Of the latter, one incidence is our case, while the second is actually an expression of closure: “Korah gathered (vayaqhel) the whole community against them at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting. Then the Presence of the Lord appeared to the whole community” (Num 16:19). Of the remaining five cases, two are in the middle of a story, one stands at the beginning of a chapter but not necessarily as an opening word, another is a beginning but does not stand at the beginning of a chapter, while only in 1Chr 28:1 vayaqhel is definitely an opening phrase. 44 See Gottlieb, “Introductory Formulae,” 37–9; idem, Order in the Bible, 37–9, 39–41. In the case of elle ha-devarim, it is a closing formula as well.

MEDIEVAL JEWISH EXEGESIS ON DUAL INCIPITS

401

Why was the parasha on the Sabbath inserted prior to the chapter about the tabernacle? We have already noted that the Sabbath and the tabernacle are mentioned together several times in the Pentateuch, even in the same verse. 45 Israel Knohl has noted that the rabbinic midrash prohibiting work on the tabernacle on the Sabbath day may be the simple and straightforward message carried by the juxtaposition of these passages. 46 Exod 35 may be another example of this tendency.

CRITICAL SCHOLARSHIP Nahum Sarna notes at Exod 31:12: “The concluding—and, appropriately, the seventh—literary unit within the pericope of the instructions for the tabernacle is devoted to the observance of the law of the Sabbath. Correspondingly, the resumption of the tabernacle narrative in ch. 35 commences with the Sabbath law.” 47 At 35:1, he writes: “Just as the divine instructions about the Tabernacle concluded with the law of the Sabbath rest, so the narrative about its construction commences on the same theme—to the same purpose,” sending his readers back to his comment on 31:12–17.48 The connection he draws between the two parashot supports a relation of resumption between them, as he himself says. While Sarna speaks of resumption, not of resumptive repetition, it appears that the thematic resumption in Exod 35:2 is repetitive in language as well.49 Baruch Levine outlines the subject matter of Lev 23 and comments: “The above outline, especially the two superscriptions, shows the composite character of chapter 23. The Sabbath law has been appended to E.g., Exod 31:11–13; 35:1–5; Lev 19:30 (same verse); 26:2 (same verse). I. Knohl, The Sanctuary of Silence (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995), 16; J. Milgrom, Leviticus (AB, 3B; New York: Doubleday, 2000), 1955. Y. Zakovitch, An Introduction to Inner-Biblical Interpretation (Even-Yehuda: Reches Publishing House, 1992 [Hebrew]) has made the point that most midrashic methods, such as learning from adjacency, were already employed in the Bible itself. 47 N.M Sarna, The JPS Torah Commentary: Exodus ‫( שמות‬Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1991), 201. 48 Ibid., 222. Presumably, Sarna meant to relate the tabernacle and the Sabbath through the theme of holiness in space and time. 49 I would contend that Exod 35:2 opens with a resumptive repetition on the subject of the Sabbath: “On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day you shall have a sabbath of complete rest, holy to the LORD; whoever does any work on it shall be put to death.” Compare this with 31:15, the verse it is resuming: “Six days work may be done; but on the seventh day there shall be a sabbath of complete rest, holy to the LORD; whoever does work on the sabbath day shall be put to death.” This is practically a literal repetition, a sure sign of Wiederaufnahme. 45 46

402

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the beginning of the calendar proper, and verses 39–43 have been similarly added at the end, after it seemed that the calendar was complete.” 50 If however the Sabbath is a later addition, then the opening superscriptions never had the Sabbath in mind, only the festivals. If so, why does Levine have difficulty (in his commentary) with the use of the word mo‘ed in v. 2 to include the Sabbath? Nahmanides’ idea that the superscription in v. 4 resumes the subject of the festivals after an interruption avoids this problem; indeed, both superscriptions in vv. 2 and 4 never had the Sabbath in mind. Bernard Levinson sees “editorial devices as cues to textual reformation.” 51 Two devices in particular which provide evidence of editorial activity are the resumptive repetition (Levinson prefers “repetitive resumption”) and Seidel’s law, which may come together or separately. One of his examples is Lev 23. The inclusion of the Sabbath within the festival calendar … is disruptive both on topical and formal grounds. That secondary inclusion, which aims at a greater comprehensiveness, is marked by a repetitive resumption. The editor frames Lev 23:3 with v. 4, which repeats the verse before the interpolation (Lev 23:2) according to Seidel’s law. 52

However, citing Talmon, Levinson notes that repetitive resumption may function as a compositional device and need not necessarily point to editorial activity or textual reworking. This would have been a particularly good case in which to cite Nahmanides’ understanding of resumptive repetition. Milgrom discusses the introductory formula in Lev 23 at length. He cites Levinson as saying that v. 1 was the heading of the original calendar and v. 4 was a resumptive repetition “in order to form the introverted structure of vv. 1–4.” 53 Milgrom himself rejects this argument and thinks that the Sabbath in Lev 23 is an interpolation. He further cites David Hoffman, who tries to counter these arguments by pointing to Exod 35:1–3, which begins elleh haddebarim ašer-ṣiwwa YHYH la‘asot ’otam, literally, ‘these are B. Levine, The JPS Torah Commentary: Leviticus ‫( ויקרא‬Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1989), 154. 51 This is actually the title of a division in the first chapter of B.M. Levinson, Deuteronomy and the Hermeneutics of Legal Innovation (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997), 17. 52 Ibid., 19–20. 53 Milgrom, Leviticus, 1954. 50

MEDIEVAL JEWISH EXEGESIS ON DUAL INCIPITS

403

the things that YWYH commanded to do them.’ This heading cannot refer to the Sabbath, the subject that immediately follows (vv. 2–3), because on the Sabbath one does not ‘do’ anything. Rather, it applies to the following subject, the construction of the Tabernacle (vv. 4ff.).

Milgrom concurs that “he is absolutely correct regarding Exod 35:1 as the true heading for the long story of the construction of the sanctuary (Exod 35:4–39:43)” but this is because Milgrom, unlike Hoffman, thinks that the Sabbath at Exod 35:2–3 is also an interpolation. Milgrom’s idea that Exod 35:1 does not refer exclusively to the Sabbath but rather to the construction of the tabernacle, as we have seen, was the subject of discussion also among the medieval exegetes. I would like to point out that despite Milgrom’s comment that “on the Sabbath one does not ‘do’ anything,” the verb “to do” ‫ לעשות‬does indeed appear frequently in reference to the Sabbath: In the Sabbath parasha (Exod 31:12–17), it appears five times. Perhaps the most memorable reference is Gen 2:3, ‫ אשר ברא אלהים לעשות‬, “all the work of creation that He had done.” It is then found in Exod 35:1, “These are the things that the Lord has commanded you to do”‫ לעשות‬and may indeed be the incipit for the Sabbath, as Saadyah and Rashi maintained. Propp seems to have accepted the view of the exegetes that Exod 35:1 introduces both the Sabbath and the tabernacle. “One might think that the ‘words’ [‫ ]הדברים‬in 35:1 are the Sabbath commands alone. In the larger context, however, Moses is actually introducing all his discourse in 35:2– 36:1 concerning both the Sabbath and the Tabernacle.” 54 In light of the critical view which sees vv. 2–3 as an interpolation, Propp’s silence on this issue is surprising. In his case, we might say that the medieval interpretation was adopted in toto by one proponent of the historical-critical school. My final example, like the first, is a case of the most basic form of dual superscription: two initial verses in one pericope. Unlike the previous examples, however, this occurrence went unnoticed by the classic medieval exegetes. It was a Renaissance scholar who first hinted at the possibility of a composite opening in this text. Initially, Rabbi Obadiah Sforno of Italy (1475–1550) seems to have adopted the same approach as Nahmanides, relying on resumptive repetition to explain the duplication. However, he then proceeds to suggest a more original solution. Scholars have connected the stress on peshaṭ interpretation in Northern France with the “small renaissance” (petite renaissance) in 12th century France. Can we ascribe Sforno’s critical perception to the major renaissance of 15th century Italy?55 1086F

1087F

Propp, Exodus, 659. Z. Gottlieb, the editor of R. Obadiah Sforno’s Torah Commentary (Jerusalem: Mossad Harav Kook, 1980 [Hebrew]), 28, thought so: “Sforno was typical of the 54 55

404

ISAAC B. GOTTLIEB

If I understand his remarks correctly, his explanation in fact points in the direction of a dual superscription.

4. LEVITICUS 16:1–2 '‫ה‬-‫מ ֶֹשׁה ַא ֲח ֵרי מוֹת ְשׁנֵ י ְבּנֵ י ַא ֲהר ֹן ְבּ ָק ְר ָב ָתם ִל ְפנֵ י‬-‫ וַ יְ ַד ֵבּר ה' ֶאל‬.1 ‫ ֵﬠת‬-‫יָבֹא ְבכָ ל‬-‫ ַא ֲהר ֹן ָא ִחי� וְ ַאל‬-‫מ ֶֹשׁה ַדּ ֵבּר ֶאל‬-‫אמר ה' ֶאל‬ ֶ ֹ ‫ וַ יּ‬.2 ‫יָּמתוּ׃‬ ֻ ַ‫ו‬ ‫ ָה ָאר ֹן וְ לֹא יָמוּת‬-‫ ְפּנֵ י ַה ַכּפּ ֶֹרת ֲא ֶשׁר ַﬠל‬-‫ ַהקּ ֶֹדשׁ ִמ ֵבּית ַל ָפּר ֶֹכת ֶאל‬-‫ֶאל‬ ‫ ַה ַכּפּ ֶֹרת׃‬-‫ִכּי ֶבּ ָﬠנָ ן ֵא ָר ֶאה ַﬠל‬ 1. The Lord spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron who died when they drew too close to the presence of the Lord. 2. The Lord said to Moses: Tell your brother Aaron that he is not to come at will not the Shrine behind the curtain, in front of the cover that is upon the ark, lest he die; for I appear in the cloud over the cover. R. Obadiah Sforno (16:1): The word “and he spoke” (‫ )וידבר‬does not generally introduce the contents of speech but rather the general act of speaking. Therefore it is often followed by the verb “saying” (‫ )לאמר‬to indicate the particular message. Likewise the text here reads, “The Lord spoke to Moses after the death… and He said to him.” But because Scripture took the time to tell that it was after the death of the two sons, it did not write [in the second verse] “and He said to him” (‫)ויאמר אליו‬ but repeated that the Lord was the speaker and the listener was Moses (‫משה‬-‫“—)ויאמר ה' אל‬The Lord said to Moses.”56 108F

time and place in which he lived—the renaissance in Italy. He was a synthesis of Torah and wisdom, deep faith together with a desire to know things as they really were, to the point where reason could reach.” A sign of his open mindedness may be seen in the fact that the Christian Hebraist Johannes Reuchlin studied with him sometime after 1498; see S. Kessler Mesguich, “Early Christian Hebraists,” in M. Saebø (ed.), Hebrew Bible/Old Testament: The History of Its Interpretation. Vol. II, 258. 56 ‫קּדשׁ לא ִתפּל‬ ֶ ‫יבת "וַ ְי ַד ֵבּר" ִבּ ְלשׁון ַה‬ ַ ‫ ִהנֵּ ה ֵתּ‬.‫משׁה ַא ֲח ֵרי מות‬ ֶ ‫וַ ְי ַד ֵבּר ה' ֶאל‬ ‫ וְ ָל ֵכן ַא ַחר ָלשׁון ַה ִדּבּוּר‬.‫ ֲא ָבל ִתּפּל ַﬠל ֶמ ֶשׁ� ַה ִדּבּוּר ִבּ ְכ ָללו‬,‫ָבּרב ַﬠל ֶח ְל ֵקי ַה ִדּבּוּר‬ ..‫משׁה ַא ֲח ֵרי מות‬ ֶ ‫ "וַ י ְַד ֵבּר ה' ֶאל‬,‫ ִאם ֵכּן‬,‫ ָא ַמר‬.‫יָ בא ָבּרב ָלשׁון ָה ֲא ִמ ָירה ַה ְפּ ָר ִטית‬ ‫"א ֲח ֵרי מות" לא ָכּ ַתב‬ ַ ‫וּמ ְפּנֵ י ֶשׁ ֶה ֱא ִרי� ְבּ ִספּוּר‬ ִ ."�‫ ַדּ ֵבּר ֶאל ַא ֲהרן ָא ִחי‬..‫יּאמר‬ ֶ ַ‫ו‬ .�ַ ‫שּׁומ‬ ֵ ‫וּמשׁה ַה‬ ֶ ‫אומר‬ ֵ ‫יִת ָבּ ַר� ָה‬ ְ ‫ ֲא ָבל ָחזַ ר וְ ִהזְ ִכּיר ָה ֵאל‬,'‫יּאמר ֵא ָליו‬ ֶ ַ‫'ו‬

MEDIEVAL JEWISH EXEGESIS ON DUAL INCIPITS

405

COMMENT Sforno’s use of the term “repeated” (ḥazar we-hizkir) is reminiscent of Nahmanides’ use of the same words for Wiederaufnahme or resumptive repetition. 57 However, as we are dealing with two adjacent verses, what need is there for a resumption? Do the nine intervening words in v. 1, “after the death of the two sons of Aaron who died when they drew too close to the presence of the Lord,” constitute such a lengthening that the text now requires a return to the original topic? Evidently Sforno saw in 16:1 a variation on the standard opening formula, “And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying.”58 The variant opening left out the word “saying” and added two adverbial phrases, “after the death of,” “when they drew too close to the presence of the Lord.” In Sforno’s opinion, this deviation from the standard opening demanded a resumptive repetition in the next verse. 59 While I find Sforno’s explanation forced, his insight into Biblical style is invaluable. In effect, he was asking why we need two opening formulae, wayyedabber Adonay el Moshe (16:1), and wayyomer Adonay el Moshe (16:2). Perhaps he himself sensed that resumptive repetition was not the proper explanation in this case. He therefore proceeded to a second idea which, though based on rabbinic sources, is quite radical in its implications: According to some of our rabbis, of blessed memory, there were two separate dictates; the import of the verses would then be as follows: “The Lord spoke to Moses and said to him to speak with Aaron that he is not to come […] lest he die.” And after the death of Aaron’s two sons, He said to Moses: “Speak with Aaron that he is not to come [to the sanctuary] more than he is commanded lest he die the way his sons died, because they were zealous to offer more incense than they were commanded. And this second dictate was to chasten him more than the first.60

57 Above, Lev 23:2, Nahmanides wrote ḥazar ve-amar, translated as “and then he again says.” The words ḥazar we-hizkir are to be found in Nahmanides’ commentary, Exod 20:14; Deut 9:4; and with a slight variation (ḥazar le-hazkir), Lev 21:17. 58 This formula is used in Leviticus alone 35 times and in the Priestly code over 70 times. 59 Note this parallel: “The narrative introduction to the divine speech in 16:1aα is resumed in v. 2 aα, except that the verb ‫ אמר‬has now replaced ‫( ”דבר‬C. Nihan, From Priestly Torah to Pentateuch: A Study in the Composition of the Book of Leviticus [Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007], 97 n. 112). 60 ‫שׁעוּר ַה ָכּתוּב "וַ ְי ַד ֵבּר‬ ִ ‫ וְ יִ ְהיֶ ה‬,‫בּוּרים‬ ִ ‫בּותינוּ ז"ל ָהיוּ ְשׁנֵ י ִדּ‬ ֵ ‫ֲא ָבל ְל ִד ְב ֵרי ְק ָצת ֵמ ַר‬ ‫"א ֲח ֵרי מות ְשׁנֵ י‬ ַ ְ‫ ו‬."‫ וְ לא יָמוּת‬..‫ וְ ַאל יָ בא‬..‫"דּ ֵבּר ֶאל ַא ֲהרן‬ ַ ‫יּאמר ֵא ָליו‬ ֶ ַ‫משׁה" ו‬ ֶ ‫ה' ֶאל‬

406

ISAAC B. GOTTLIEB

Sforno is suggesting that our text is conflated. The original chapter was addressed to Aaron before the incident on the eighth day of inauguration, and had one opening formula. It was then repeated to Aaron with a different opening, this time making reference to the death of his sons. As novel as this proposition is, Sforno actually relies on rabbinic statements in Talmud and Midrash for support. Thus, the final sentence in Sforno’s comment, “And this second dictate was to chasten him more than the first,” is reminiscent of the midrash which Rashi cites in his comment on this verse: Rashi (16:1): —And the Lord spake unto Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron etc.—What is this statement intended to tell us? Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah illustrated this by a parable: It may be compared to the case of a sick person whom the physician visited. He (the physician) came and said to him: “Do not eat cold things, nor sleep in a damp place!” Another physician came and said to him: “Do not eat cold things, nor sleep in a damp place so that thou mayest not die as Mr. So-and-so died!” Certainly this (the latter) put him on his guard more than the former; that is why Scripture states “after the death of the two sons of Aaron” (Siphra). (16:2): —The Lord said to Moses: Tell your brother Aaron that he is not to come—that he die not as his sons have died.

Ostensibly the midrash is responding to the phrase “after the death of the two sons of Aaron.” What is the connection between the deaths of Nadab and Abihu and this parasha that deals with the ritual of atonement on Yom Kippur and the purification of the Sanctuary? To answer this question, the midrash converted the adverbial phrase of time spoken by the narrator, “after the death of the two sons of Aaron,” into part of the Lord’s message to Moses. God’s words to Moses were as follows: “The Lord spoke to Moses: ‘After the death of the two sons of Aaron who died when they drew too close to the presence of the Lord, tell your brother Aaron that he is not to come at will to the Shrine behind the curtain, in front of the cover that is upon the ark, lest he die; for I appear in the cloud over the cover.’” The death of Aaron’s sons is thus the reason that Aaron should not approach the Sanctuary at will.

‫יותר ִמ ַמּה ֶשׁ ֻצּוָּ ה‬ ֵ ‫ וְ ַאל יָ בא" ֶשׁלּא יִ ָכּנֵ ס‬..‫"דּ ֵבּר ֶאל ַא ֲהרן‬ ַ ‫משׁה‬ ֶ ‫רן"א ַמר ְל‬ ָ ‫ְבּנֵ י ַא ֲה‬ .‫יותר ִמ ַמּה ֶשׁ ֻצּוּוּ‬ ֵ ‫טרת‬ ֶ ‫הור ִסים ַל ֲﬠשׂות ְק‬ ְ ‫יותם‬ ָ ‫ ְכּ ֶד ֶר� ֶשׁ ֵמּתוּ ָבּנָ יו ִבּ ְה‬,"‫"וְ לא יָמוּת‬ .'‫יותר ִמן ָה ִראשׁון‬ ֵ ‫וְ זֶ ה ְ'לזַ ְרזו‬

MEDIEVAL JEWISH EXEGESIS ON DUAL INCIPITS

407

Sforno did not interpret the midrashic parable as Rashi did. Where Rashi spoke of two doctors, the second making his warning more personal than the first, Sforno understood the parable to speak of one doctor who gave two different warnings. In this way, Sforno used the parable to answer his own question—why were there two superscriptions to this chapter? 61 Sforno’s answer is that each opening formula was said at a different occasion. The first opened with the words “vayyedabber, vayyomer,” and was used to head the chapter on the atonement ritual which Moses relayed to Aaron before the incident of Nadab and Abihu. Later on, after the incident, the chapter was repeated to Aaron, this time with the incipit, “Tell (dabber) your brother Aaron that he is not to come at will to the Shrine behind the curtain, in front of the cover that is upon the ark,” and with the added warning, “lest he die the way his sons died.” Sforno relies on a Talmudic discussion to claim that the chapter was recounted before the incident of Nadab and Abihu as well as afterward.62

CRITICAL SCHOLARSHIP Christophe Nihan notes that “the discussion on the genesis of Lev 16 is remarkably complex, so much so that it is even difficult to summarize.”63 The uniqueness of the introductory formula(e) in Lev 16:1–2 was noted by many scholars, and this observation led to many hypotheses. Wilfried Warning devoted a mini-chapter to Lev 16:1–2; in his count of “divine speeches” in Leviticus, he finds 16:1 to be “a distinct DS.” 64 He also viewed Lev 16:1 as a repetitive resumption that harkened back to Lev 10, the story of Nadab and Abihu.65 Nihan himself thinks that the introduction in 16:1, with its reference to the death of Nadab and Abihu, was a late interpolation inserted when Lev 10 was added. In this respect, the classical view that the introduction to the ritual in v. 1–2 is Sforno does not actually cite the parable, save for the closing sentence, “to chasten him more than the first,” which shows that he was basing his reasoning on it. 62 b. Yoma 53a. 63 Nihan, Priestly Torah, 340. 64 Warning, Literary Artistry, 42–6. In his view, it actually holds a central position in Leviticus, being speech 17 out of 35. 65 For this he cites Blum, Studien, 318, note 119: “Im übrigen deutet der Rückgriff auf Lev 10 (den Tod der beiden Aaron-Sohne im Heiligtum) in Lev 16,1 keineswegs, wie gern argumentiert wird, auf einen ursprünglich unmittelbaren Anshluss an Lev 10, sondern gewinnt gerade als Wiederaufnahme uber die Reinheitstorot in 11-15 hinweg seinen Sinn.” 61

408

ISAAC B. GOTTLIEB not from one hand, and that v. 1 is manifestly later than v. 2, may be accepted.66

In light of both parts of Sforno’s comments, I would venture to say that v. 2 alone was the original opening of ch. 16, introducing an annual ceremony to cleanse the temple of impurities and to achieve atonement for those sins relating to the Sanctuary. On the ordained day of the ritual, the tenth of the first month, Aaron was to enter and offer up incense on the altar of gold. Verse 2 is thus aligned with the closing of the parasha, “This shall be to you a law for all time: to make atonement for the Israelites for all their sins once a year” (Lev 16:34). The prohibition to enter the sanctuary in v. 2 had nothing to do with the deaths of Nadab and Abihu; it prohibited even the High Priest to enter the Holy of Holies under penalty of death, save for this annual ceremony. However, several chapters earlier, the sons of Aaron had entered the Sanctuary’s premises on the eighth day of the ordination period, offered incense without being commanded to do so, and were immediately stricken. It thus seemed the perfect illustration for what Aaron was now being warned not to do. 67 In order to relate this chapter to that incident, a second superscription was formulated; v. 1 served to link ritual law with the earlier narrative. I offer two proofs for this thesis: First, v. 1 uses the expression “when they drew too close to the presence of the Lord” ('‫)בקרבתם לפני ה‬. The root qrb “to draw near” appears eleven times in the story of Nadab and Abihu (Lev 9). Yet in the present chapter, with the exception of v. 1, the root does not appear at all. If indeed this pericope followed on the heels of the incident, in place of “let him not come close to the sanctuary,” ( ‫ואל‬ ‫ )יבא בכל עת אל הקדש‬one would have expected “let him not draw near,” ‫ואל יקרב‬. In fact we find exactly this phrase in Num 17:5, “so that no outsider—one not of Aaron’s offspring—should presume to offer incense,” using the phrase yiqrab (‫)למען אשר לא יקרב איש זר‬. Second, throughout the books of Leviticus and Numbers, the standard opening formula is: “The Lord spoke to Moses, saying,” '‫וידבר ה‬ ‫אל משה לאמר‬. It appears as such over 70 times. Outside the Priestly literature, however, the formula drops the word “saying.” 68 Within the 10F

Nihan, Priestly Torah, 346. Namely, he was being warned not to enter the sanctuary unless commanded; likewise Nadab and Abihu did that “which He had not enjoined upon them” (Lev 10:1). 68 M. Paran, Forms of the Priestly Style in the Pentateuch (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1989 [Hebrew]), 223. 66 67

MEDIEVAL JEWISH EXEGESIS ON DUAL INCIPITS

409

Priestly literature, this superscription appears without the word “saying” (‫ )לאמר‬only once—in our verse, 16:1. 69 This would seem to indicate that the verse differs in style from all the other chapter openings in Leviticus. My contention is that this verse was secondary. The idea that this chapter originally had no connection with the earlier incident of Nadab and Abihu could also explain why it was not placed adjacent to ch. 9. For as Ibn Ezra already noted, ch. 16 follows directly from the preceding chapters, 11–15, all of which deal with laws of ritual uncleanliness, tum’ah, and the possibility that those who were ritually unclean had entered the sacred precincts; it was for them that the atonement and purification ritual of ch. 16 was ordained.70 This supposition can also provide an answer to the following question raised by Knohl: 10F

102F

According to the simple meaning of Lev 10:1, it seems that their sin was that they did not take from the holy fire burning upon the altar, as we find written in the Targumim and in the writings of the sages…Lev 16:1–2, on the other hand, seems to indicate that the sin was in the very approach to the holy.71 103F

Warning, Literary Artistry, 42–3, connects the absence of ‫ לאמר‬in Lev. 16:1, 2, and 21:1, but in my opinion these passages need to be distinguished. 70 Ibn Ezra on Lev 16:1: “After the death—After warning the Israelites that they shall not die [a reference to Lev 15:31, “You shall put the Israelites on guard against their uncleanness, lest they die through their uncleanness by defiling My tabernacle”], the Lord told Moses to warn Aaron as well lest he die as did his sons.” I would omit the final words “lest he die as did his sons” and concur with Ibn Ezra that the warning to Aaron was identical to the earlier warning to the people: both were warned against entering the tabernacle, either in a state of uncleanness or uncommanded. S.R Driver, An Introduction to the Literature of the Old Testament (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1913), 46, citing Kuenen and Wellhausen, similarly justifies the order of chapters 8–16: “They come after the consecration of the priests, whose functions concerning the ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ they regulate, and before the law of the Day of Atonement, on which the sanctuary is cleansed from the pollutions caused by involuntary uncleanness of priests and people.” J. Milgrom, Leviticus (AB, 3; New York: Doubleday, 1991), 639, adds: “Finally, it is hardly an accident that the story of Nadab and Abihu is followed by the laws of impurity (chaps. 11–15). To be sure, this story adds the impurity of corpse contamination to those in the subsequent impurity collection which must be purged on Yom Kippur (see 16:1).” According to all these explanations, the place of chapter 16 is where it should be, following the laws of ritual defilement. 71 Knohl, The Sanctuary of Silence, 150 n. 108. 69

410

ISAAC B. GOTTLIEB

Indeed there is a difference in the formulation of the sin between 10:1 and 16:1. 72 Chapter 10 describes the actual sin: bringing a strange fire with incense onto the altar. This, however, would not bring the sin into the rubric of ch. 16, entering the precincts of the Sanctuary unless commanded (16:2). Therefore 16:1 connects their sin to the general prohibition against entering the sanctuary without summons by formulating it in more general terms—“when they drew near to the sanctuary and died.” 73 To conclude, the adoption of the idea of dual incipits for this text can resolve several problems and Sforno’s comments seem to point in this direction.

CONCLUSION In this paper I examined four cases of dual superscriptions. In all of them, I found some reference to the concept of “opening formulae” among one or more of the traditional exegetes. Some commentators found duplication in the opening phrases, others explained the text in a way that did away with dual incipits. Nahmanides explained two cases (Exod 35, Lev 23) as the result of resumptive repetition. Sforno, the latest of the commentators cited, suggested that the dual incipit in Lev 16 was the result of what we would call a conflate text. Overall, these comments of medieval Jewish 72

Pace Knohl, Lev 16:2 makes no reference to Nadab and Abihu.

B.J. Schwartz, The Holiness Legislation: Studies in the Priestly Code (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1999 [Hebrew]), 19 n. 23: “The superscription of Lev 16, ‘after the death of,’ teaches that according to the narrator, the command of the annual atonement ritual was given after the deaths of Nadab and Abihu (ch. 10)… The very title, ‘after the death of,’ bears witness that the present arrangement [of the chapters], with its chronological deviation, is the original order. If chapter 16 were the original continuation of chapter 10 from the literary viewpoint, there would be no room for such a title as we find in chapter 16.” This argument—that adverbial clauses of time and place that seem to indicate chronological deviation are really proof that the Torah is concerned about chronology—was already made by Nahmanides, on Lev 25:1, and independently by M. Sternberg, “Time and Space in Biblical (Hi)story Telling: The Grand Chronology,” in R.M. Schwartz (ed.), The Book and the Text: the Bible and Literary Theory (Oxford: Blackwell, 1990), 14–81. However, in my opinion, Lev 16 is not one of those cases. As explained above, quite the opposite is true: the superscription “after the death of the two sons of Aaron who died when they drew too close to the presence of the Lord” is a secondary attempt to create adjacency for two portions, Lev 10 and Lev 16, that were never intrinsically connected, thus creating an artificial case of en muqdam umeuhar ba-torah, “there is no earlier or later in the Torah.” See Nihan’s view in note 66 above. 73

MEDIEVAL JEWISH EXEGESIS ON DUAL INCIPITS

411

exegetes and those who followed in their wake show an awareness of literary problems, although they did not formulate their comments as such. 74

74 I want to thank Eric Lawee for reading this paper and for his helpful suggestions, as well as the referees of JHS who commented on a former version of this article.

PSALM 68: STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND GEOGRAPHY ISRAEL KNOHL

HEBREW UNIVERSITY OF JERUSALEM

Psalm 68 is presumably one of the most difficult texts in the book of Psalms. Scholars are divided on its structure, its meaning, and its date. The following article addresses some key aspects of the psalm’s composition; it includes a discussion of its structure—in which I argue that it is possible to identify a numerical pattern—as well as a discussion of its distinctive geography. The discussion will mostly be based on the Masoretic Text (MT); no version of this psalm was found in Qumran, and the LXX, while presenting its own difficulties, does not appear to point to a different Hebrew base text than the one preserved in MT. 1 107F

1. THE STRUCTURE OF PSALM 68 1.1. NUMERICAL STRUCTURE AND COMPOSITION 2 108F

The significance of numerical structures in the study of the book of Psalms has been noted by Caspar Labuschagne in a recent article (Labuschagne The use of the Greek text of Ps 68 is complicated by the fact that the Greek translator interpreted difficult words and expressions in the MT on the basis of their graphic similarity with other, more common Hebrew words. For instance, he interpreted ‫ בערבות‬in 68:5 as ‫( מערב‬δυσμων), and ‫ ידדון‬in 68:13 in the sense of ‫ידיד‬ (αγαπητος). 2 Unless otherwise specified, the English translation used here follows the NRSV. The verse numbering follows the MT; the English numbering is different because the first verse is not counted. 1

413

414

ISRAEL KNOHL

2009). Labuschagne pointed out several structures of word numbers in different psalms which appear to have symbolic meaning. This notion, applied here to the number of cola, may help us understanding the structure of one of the most difficult psalms, Psalm 68. It may also help us to differentiate between the original nucleolus of this psalm and later additions. Let us start by presenting this psalm, divided into its cola.3 ‫וְ יָ נוּסוּ ְמ ַשׂנְ ָאיו ִמ ָפּנָ יו‬ ‫דּוֹנַ ג ִמ ְפּנֵ י ֵאשׁ‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫יַ ַﬠ ְלצוּ ִל ְפנֵ י ֱא‬ ‫סֹלּוּ ָלר ֵֹכב ָבּ ֲﬠ ָרבוֹת‬ ‫�הים ִבּ ְמעוֹן ָק ְדשׁוֹ‬ ִ ‫ֱא‬ ‫כּוֹשׁרוֹת‬ ָ ‫מוֹציא ֲא ִס ִירים ַבּ‬ ִ ‫ישׁימוֹן ֶס ָלה‬ ִ ‫ְבּצַ ְﬠ ְדּ� ִב‬ ‫�הים זֶ ה ִסינַ י‬ ִ ‫ִמ ְפּנֵ י ֱא‬ ‫נַ ֲח ָל ְת� וְ נִ ְל ָאה ַא ָתּה כוֹנַ נְ ָתּהּ‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫טוֹב ְת� לֶ ָﬠנִ י ֱא‬ ָ ‫ָתּ ִכין ְבּ‬ ‫ַה ְמ ַב ְשּׂרוֹת ָצ ָבא ָרב‬ ‫וּנְ וַ ת ַבּיִת ְתּ ַח ֵלּק ָשׁ ָלל‬ ‫ַכּנְ ֵפי יוֹנָ ה נֶ ְח ָפּה ַב ֶכּ ֶסף‬ ‫ַתּ ְשׁ ֵלג ְבּצַ ְלמוֹן‬ ‫ַהר גַּ ְבנֻ נִּ ים ַהר ָבּ ָשׁן‬ ‫�הים ְל ִשׁ ְבתּוֹ‬ ִ ‫ָה ָהר ָח ַמד ֱא‬

‫א ַל ְמנַ ֵצּ ַ� ְל ָדוִ ד ִמזְ מוֹר ִשׁיר‬

‫אוֹיְביו‬ ָ ‫�הים יָפוּצוּ‬ ִ ‫ב יָ קוּם ֱא‬ ‫ג ְכּ ִהנְ דּ ֹף ָﬠ ָשׁן ִתּנְ דּ ֹף ְכּ ִה ֵמּס‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫אבדוּ ְר ָשׁ ִﬠים ִמ ְפּנֵ י ֱא‬ ְ ֹ‫י‬ ‫יִשׂ ְמחוּ‬ ְ ‫יקים‬ ִ ‫ד וְ ַצ ִדּ‬ ‫וְ יָ ִשׂישׂוּ ְב ִשׂ ְמ ָחה‬ ‫א�הים זַ ְמּרוּ ְשׁמוּ‬ ִ ‫ה ִשׁירוּ ֵל‬ ‫ְבּיָ הּ ְשׁמוֹ וְ ִﬠ ְלזוּ ְל ָפנָ יו‬ ‫יְתוֹמים וְ ַדיַּ ן ַא ְל ָמנוֹת‬ ִ ‫ו ֲא ִבי‬ ‫יְח ִידים ַבּי ְָתה‬ ִ ‫מוֹשׁיב‬ ִ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ז ֱא‬ ‫יחה‬ ָ ‫סוֹר ִרים ָשׁ ְכנוּ ְצ ִח‬ ְ �‫ַא‬ �‫את� ִל ְפנֵ י ַﬠ ֶמּ‬ ְ ‫�הים ְבּ ֵצ‬ ִ ‫ח ֱא‬ ‫ט ֶא ֶרץ ָר ָﬠ ָשׁה ַאף ָשׁ ַמיִם נָ ְטפוּ‬ ‫�הי יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל‬ ֵ ‫�הים ֱא‬ ִ ‫ִמ ְפּנֵ י ֱא‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫י גֶּ ֶשׁם נְ ָדבוֹת ָתּנִ יף ֱא‬ ‫יָּת� יָ ְשׁבוּ ָבהּ‬ ְ ‫יא ַח‬ ‫יִתּן א ֶֹמר‬ ֶ ‫יב ֲאד ֹנָ י‬ ‫יג ַמ ְל ֵכי ְצ ָבאוֹת ִידּ ֹדוּן ִידּ ֹדוּן‬ ‫יד ִאם ִתּ ְשׁ ְכּבוּן ֵבּין ְשׁ ַפ ָתּיִם‬ ‫יה ִבּ ַיר ְק ַרק ָחרוּץ‬ ָ ‫רוֹת‬ ֶ ‫וְ ֶא ְב‬ ‫טו ְבּ ָפ ֵרשׂ ַשׁ ַדּי ְמ ָל ִכים ָבּהּ‬ ‫�הים ַהר ָבּ ָשׁן‬ ִ ‫טז ַהר ֱא‬ ‫יז ָל ָמּה ְתּ ַרצְּ דוּן ָה ִרים גַּ ְבנֻ נִּ ים‬ ‫יְ הוָ ה יִ ְשׁכֹּן ָלנֶ ַצח‬-‫ַאף‬

The cola division follows Fokkelman 1990:74, except in the case of v. 9. Fokkelman divides this verse into four cola, in keeping with his understanding of the structure of vv. 8–9 as consisting of two tricola. In his view, the words ‫ארץ‬ ‫ רעשה‬conclude the first sentence, while the parallel expression ‫ אף שמים נטפו‬opens the next one. I find this interpretation problematic. My own division treats v. 9 as an independent tricola, which corresponds to my view of the central position of the words ‫ מפני אלהים זה סיני‬in the middle of this verse. 3

‫‪415‬‬

‫‪PSALM 68: STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND GEOGRAPHY‬‬ ‫ַא ְל ֵפי ִשׁנְ ָאן‬

‫�הים ִרבּ ַֹתיִם‬ ‫יח ֶר ֶכב ֱא ִ‬ ‫ֲאד ֹנָ י ָבם ִסינַ י ַבּקּ ֶֹדשׁ‬ ‫ָל ַק ְח ָתּ ַמ ָתּנוֹת ָבּ ָא ָדם‬ ‫ית ֶשּׁ ִבי‬ ‫ית ַל ָמּרוֹם ָשׁ ִב ָ‬ ‫יט ָﬠ ִל ָ‬ ‫�הים‬ ‫סוֹר ִרים ִל ְשׁכֹּן יָ הּ ֱא ִ‬ ‫וְ ַאף ְ‬ ‫שׁוּﬠ ֵתנוּ ֶס ָלה‬ ‫יַ ֲﬠ ָמס ָלנוּ ָה ֵאל יְ ָ‬ ‫כ ָבּרוּ� ֲאד ֹנָ י יוֹם יוֹם‬ ‫וְ ֵליהוִ ה ֲאד ֹנָ י ַל ָמּוֶ ת תּ ָֹצאוֹת‬ ‫מוֹשׁעוֹת‬ ‫כא ָה ֵאל ָלנוּ ֵאל ְל ָ‬ ‫ָק ְדקֹד ֵשׂ ָﬠר ִמ ְת ַה ֵלּ� ַבּ ֲא ָשׁ ָמיו‬ ‫יִמ ַחץ רֹאשׁ אֹיְ ָביו‬ ‫�הים ְ‬ ‫כב ַא� ֱא ִ‬ ‫ָא ִשׁיב ִמ ְמּ ֻצלוֹת יָם‬ ‫כג ָא ַמר ֲאד ֹנָ י ִמ ָבּ ָשׁן ָא ִשׁיב‬ ‫ְלשׁוֹן ְכּ ָל ֶבי� ֵמאֹיְ ִבים ִמנֵּ הוּ‬ ‫כד ְל ַמ ַﬠן ִתּ ְמ ַחץ ַרגְ ְל� ְבּ ָדם‬ ‫ֲה ִליכוֹת ֵא ִלי ַמ ְלכִּ י ַבקּ ֶֹדשׁ‬ ‫�הים‬ ‫יכוֹתי� ֱא ִ‬ ‫כה ָראוּ ֲה ִל ֶ‬ ‫תּוֹפפוֹת‬ ‫ְבּתוֹ� ֲﬠ ָלמוֹת ֵ‬ ‫כו ִק ְדּמוּ ָשׁ ִרים ַא ַחר נֹגְ נִ ים‬ ‫ֲאד ֹנָ י ִמ ְמּקוֹר יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל‬ ‫�הים‬ ‫כז ְבּ ַמ ְק ֵהלוֹת ָבּ ְרכוּ ֱא ִ‬ ‫הוּדה ִרגְ ָמ ָתם‬ ‫ָשׂ ֵרי יְ ָ‬ ‫יָמן ָצ ִﬠיר ר ֵֹדם‬ ‫כח ָשׁם ִבּנְ ִ‬ ‫ָשׂ ֵרי זְ ֻבלוּן ָשׂ ֵרי נַ ְפ ָתּ ִלי‬ ‫�הים זוּ ָפּ ַﬠ ְל ָתּ ָלּנוּ‬ ‫עוּזָּ ה ֱא ִ‬ ‫�הי� ֻﬠזֶּ �‬ ‫כט ִצוָּ ה ֱא ֶ‬ ‫יוֹבילוּ ְמ ָל ִכים ָשׁי‬ ‫ְל� ִ‬ ‫רוּשׁ ָל�‬ ‫יכ ֶל� ַﬠל יְ ָ‬ ‫ל ֵמ ֵה ָ‬ ‫ֲﬠ ַדת ַא ִבּ ִירים ְבּ ֶﬠגְלֵ י ַﬠ ִמּים‬ ‫לא גְּ ַﬠר ַחיַּת ָקנֶ ה‬ ‫יֶח ָפּצוּ‬ ‫ִבּזַּ ר ַﬠ ִמּים ְק ָרבוֹת ְ‬ ‫ִמ ְת ַר ֵפּס ְבּ ַרצֵּ י ָכ ֶסף‬ ‫א�הים‬ ‫כּוּשׁ ָתּ ִריץ יָ ָדיו ֵל ִ‬ ‫לב יֶ ֱא ָתיוּ ַח ְשׁ ַמנִּ ים ִמנִּ י ִמ ְצ ָריִם‬ ‫זַ ְמּרוּ ֲאד ֹנָ י ֶס ָלה‬ ‫א�הים‬ ‫לג ַמ ְמ ְלכוֹת ָה ָא ֶרץ ִשׁירוּ ֵל ִ‬ ‫יִתּן ְבּקוֹלוֹ קוֹל עֹז‬ ‫ֵהן ֵ‬ ‫לד ָלר ֵֹכב ִבּ ְשׁ ֵמי ְשׁ ֵמי ֶק ֶדם‬ ‫ַﬠל יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל גַּ ֲאוָ תוֹ‬ ‫א�הים‬ ‫לה ְתּנוּ עֹז ֵל ִ‬ ‫וְ ֻﬠזּוֹ ַבּ ְשּׁ ָח ִקים‬ ‫ֵאל יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל הוּא נ ֵֹתן עֹז וְ ַת ֲﬠ ֻצמוֹת לָ ָﬠם‬ ‫�הים ִמ ִמּ ְק ָדּ ֶשׁי�‬ ‫נוֹרא ֱא ִ‬ ‫לו ָ‬ ‫�הים‬ ‫ָבּרוּ� ֱא ִ‬

‫‪Psalm 68 contains several unique words and expressions, 4 a feature which‬‬ ‫‪makes its interpretation very difficult. Furthermore, scholars also disagree‬‬ ‫‪regarding the integrity of this psalm. Some regard it as a homogeneous‬‬ ‫‪composition, while others emphasize its apparent disunity. 5‬‬ ‫‪10F‬‬

‫‪1F‬‬

‫‪4 I list here the unique words and expressions with the numbers of the different‬‬ ‫‪verses where they appear:‬‬ ‫יתן ‪ (11),‬חיתך ‪ (10),‬גשם נדבות תניף ‪ (7),‬בכושרות ‪ (5),‬סלו לרכב בערבות ביה שמו‬ ‫‪ (16),‬הר גבננים ‪ (15),‬תשלג ‪ (14),‬בירקרק חרוץ ‪,‬שפתים ‪ (13),‬ידדון ידדון ‪ (12),‬אמר‬ ‫קדקד שער מתהלך ‪ (21),‬תוצאות למות ‪ (19),‬מתנות באדם ‪ (18),‬שנאן ‪ (17),‬תרצדון‬ ‫‪ (28),‬רגמתם ‪ (27),‬במקהלות ‪ (25),‬הליכותיך אלהים הליכות אלי ‪ (24),‬מנהו ‪ (22),‬באשמיו‬ ‫‪ (34).‬לרכב בשמי שמי קדם ‪ (32),‬יאתיו חשמנים‪ ,‬תריץ ידיו ‪ (31),‬מתרפס ברצי כסף‪ ,‬בזר‬ ‫‪5 Thus, e.g., Albright 1950–1951, who described it as “a catalogue of early Hebrew‬‬ ‫”‪lyric poems.‬‬

416

ISRAEL KNOHL

As was noted by several scholars,6 v. 5 is similar to vv. 33–34, and together they form an inclusio. Many scholars 7 see the words ‫ רכב בערבות‬in v. 5 as a parallel to the Ugaritic title of Baal ‫“—רכב ערפת‬the rider of the clouds.” In this case, there is a clear parallel between the call to praise God “who rides upon the clouds” in v. 5 and the call to sing to the “the rider in the heavens” in vv. 33–34.8 The assumption that our author was familiar with the descriptions of Baal can be further supported by the description of God in v. 34—“O rider in the heavens, the ancient heavens; listen, he sends out his voice, his mighty voice.” These words should be compared to the description of Baal in the opening of Amarna Letter 147. The sender of this letter, Abimilki King of Tyre, flatters the Egyptian monarch (probably Akhenaten) 9 by comparing him to Baal, who sends forth his voice in heaven while all the earth trembles when that voice is heard. 10 This Baal image—the image of the god of clouds, thunder, and rain—is further reflected in 68:10: “Rain in abundance, O God, you showered abroad.” I agree with Fokkelman that the inclusio between vv. 5 and 33–34 points toward the unity of Ps 68.11 In my view, however, this notion is only valid with regard to the verses that are found within the inclusio, namely, 68:5–34. The rest of the verses—vv. 1–4 and 35–36—are presumably a late editorial addition. Other indications appear to support such division between 68:5–34 and the rest of the psalm. First, the unique words and expressions to which I have already referred 12 are all to be found within the section comprised by vv. 5–34. Second, our psalm evinces several connections with Ugaritic literature, as various scholars have pointed out, 13 but such connections are likewise restricted to vv. 5–34. 14 Finally, as was remarked by Goldingay (2007:309), the current opening of the psalm in v. 2 departs significantly from the usual openings of psalms of praise. The original opening is probably preserved in v. 5, which introduces the psalm 12F

13F

14F

15F

16F

17F

18F

19F

120F

See, e.g., Fokkelman 1990:75; Hossfeld and Zenger 2005:162. See the references listed by Day 2002:92–93. 8 Even John Day (2002:93), who claims that the words ‫ בערבות רכב‬should be translated “rider through the deserts,” agrees that “it is still likely that Yahweh is here conceived as riding on a cloud.” 9 See Albright 1937; Campbell 1964:68–77; Grave 1980, 1982. 10 See also the reference to II AB iii 30–37 in Cassuto 1973:278 note 88. 11 Ibid. 12 See above, note 4. 13 For a comprehensive list, see especially Gray 1977:8–20. 14 Dahood 1986:35 argues that 68:3 reflects Ugaritic morphology; however, this argument was already rejected by Gray (ibid.:15). 6

7

PSALM 68: STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND GEOGRAPHY

417

with an exhortation to praise God that fits well the traditional pattern that characterizes psalms of praise. This finding is consistent with the recent interpretation of Hossfeld and Zenger (2005:163), who likewise agree that 68:1–4, 35–36 form a later addition to this psalm, presumably from the hand of the psalm’s final editor. However, they also argue that 68:5–7, 33–36 are secondary and stem from an earlier editor. In their view, therefore, the “core” section of the psalm is contained in vv. 8–32. They raise two arguments for this claim (ibid.). (1) First, in verses 8–11 we have a description of the theophany of God, which is reminiscent of similar depictions found at the opening of other poems: the blessing of Moses in Deut 33, Deborah’s song in Judg 5, and the poem in Hab 3. (2) Moreover, they point to what they perceive to be a tension between vv. 5–7 and 8–32: In 68:7, “the rebellious are put outside God’s care and banished to the wilderness, but at God’s enthronement, described in v. 19, where God as a king brings captive in train… They [i.e., the rebellious, I. K.], again take part… and… are introduced into the rank of those who owe tribute.” The first argument appears to be based on problematic evidence. Out of the three poems mentioned, it is only the blessing of Moses which opens with the description of the theophany. In the two other cases we have a short introduction before this depiction (cf. Judg 5:2–3; Hab 3:2). Actually, the call to bless God and the appeal to the foreign kings to sing to God which opens the song of Deborah should be compared with the function of 68:5. I regard the second argument as being equally unconvincing. Verse 7 does not say that “the rebellious are banished to the wilderness,” but rather that they dwell in a parched land. Hence, I do not see any contradiction between this statement and the later inclusion, in v. 19, of the rebellious among those who owe tribute or service to God after his victory. If we conclude that the original psalm is included in 68:5–34 we have to look for the reasons that led to the editorial additions found in vv. 1–4, 35–36. As is well known, Ps 68 is part of the “Elohistic Collection” or “Elohistic Psalter” (Pss 42–68). The name ‫ אלהים‬is the dominant divine name used in this collection. Only rarely do the names ‫ יהוה‬or ‫ יה‬appear within this collection. 15 The inclusion of Ps 68 within the “Elohistic Collection” seems problematic: While it is true that the name “Elohim” is the dominant name in this psalm, a variety of other divine names also appear here. This phenomenon already led Fokkelman (1990:75–76) to dispute the presence of an Elohistic redaction in this psalm. I can partially agree with 12F

15

For a recent discussion of the use of the divine names in this collection, see Joffe 2001, as well as Hossfeld and Zenger (2003).

418

ISRAEL KNOHL

him, in the sense that there is no evidence, in my view, for an Elohistic redaction in the original nucleus of this psalm (68:5–34). However, the supplementary material identified in 68:1–4, 35–36 should be assigned, in my opinion, to such an Elohistic redaction. The Elohistic redactors were apparently troubled by the variety of the divine names within this psalm. For some reason, they refrained from changing the divine names in the original nucleus of this psalm (68:5–34). However, they sought to reinforce the “Elohistic” tone of the psalm by framing the psalm with additional verses in which the name “Elohim” appears six times, while there is no mention of the divine names ‫ יהוה‬or ‫יה‬. I also agree with Fokkelman (ibid.) that this psalm should be divided into three sections and that the central section, in 68:12–24, “is the full report of the war of liberation fought by God himself.” Finally, I agree with his view that the psalm is built of eight stanzas (see ibid.:73). However, I cannot accept all the details of his stanza division. Fokkelman sees the whole psalm as one original unit and divides it into eight stanzas. As stated above, in my view, the original nucleus of this psalm is contained in 68:5– 34, and I suggest that this original nucleus itself is built of eight stanzas.16 The transition from one stanza to another is usually marked either by a change of the grammatical person or by the introduction of a new divine name. Thus, the variety of the divine names in this psalm is also part of its stanza building. Below is the division of the original nucleus (68:5–34) into three sections and eight stanzas, with a detailed discussion of that division. 12F

Section One: 68:5–11 Stanza 1 (68:5–7) ‫סֹלּוּ ָלר ֵֹכב ָבּ ֲﬠ ָרבוֹת‬ ‫�הים ִבּ ְמעוֹן ָק ְדשׁוֹ‬ ִ ‫ֱא‬ ‫כּוֹשׁרוֹת‬ ָ ‫מוֹציא ֲא ִס ִירים ַבּ‬ ִ

‫א�הים זַ ְמּרוּ ְשׁמוֹ‬ ִ ‫ה ִשׁירוּ ֵל‬ ‫ְבּיָ הּ ְשׁמוֹ וְ ִﬠ ְלזוּ ְל ָפנָ יו‬ ‫יְתוֹמים וְ ַדיַּ ן ַא ְל ָמנוֹת‬ ִ ‫ו ֲא ִבי‬ ‫יְתה‬ ָ ‫מוֹשׁיב יְ ִח ִידים ַבּ‬ ִ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫ז ֱא‬ ‫יחה‬ ָ ‫סוֹר ִרים ָשׁ ְכנוּ ְצ ִח‬ ְ �‫ַא‬

After the opening verse, which gives an exhortation to sing to God (Elohim), the stanza contains a description of God’s protection and just judgment. As was noted by Kraus (1993:51), this description is “stated in very general terms” and “corresponds to the typical ancient Near Eastern picture of an ideal king.” God is described here as the father and advocate 16

In several cases I followed the stanza division of Hossfeld and Zenger (2003:161).

PSALM 68: STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND GEOGRAPHY

419

for the personae miserae of all humanity. 17 There is no mention of a special relationship between God and Israel in this paragraph. As was mentioned above, the opening verse seems to refer to God with the title of “the rider of the clouds,” which is taken from Baal, the rain god. The last words of the stanza, “but the rebellious live in a parched land,” refer to the rebellious people who do not get the blessing of rain but dwell in arid land. The identity of these rebellious people will be explored elsewhere. Stanza 2 (68:8–11) ‫ישׁימוֹן ֶס ָלה‬ ִ ‫ְבּ ַצ ְﬠ ְדּ� ִב‬ �‫את� ִל ְפנֵ י ַﬠ ֶמּ‬ ְ ‫�הים ְבּ ֵצ‬ ִ ‫ח ֱא‬ ‫�הים זֶ ה ִסינַ י‬ ִ ‫ִמ ְפּנֵ י ֱא‬ ‫ט ֶא ֶרץ ָר ָﬠ ָשׁה ַאף ָשׁ ַמיִם נָ ְטפוּ‬ ‫�הי יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל‬ ֵ ‫�הים ֱא‬ ִ ‫ִמ ְפּנֵ י ֱא‬ ‫נַ ֲח ָל ְת� וְ נִ ְל ָאה ַא ָתּה כוֹנַ נְ ָתּ הּ‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫י גֶּ ֶשׁם נְ ָדבוֹת ָתּנִ יף ֱא‬ ‫תָּ כִין בְּטוֹבָתְ� ֶל ָענִי אֱ�הִים‬ ‫יא ַחיּ ָתְ� יָשְׁבוּ בָהּ‬ The transition to the following stanza is marked by a change in the person used to address the deity: In the previous stanza, the third person was used in reference to the universal god. Here the poet comes to the description of God’s help to Israel. The tone is more intimate, and the speech about God (Elohim) is given in the second person. The first two verses of this stanza describe the march of God before Israel in the desert. Unlike the parallel verses in Judg 5:4–5, the point of departure of the march is not indicated here. 18 Within the description of the march, there is a reference to the raining heavens—“the heavens poured down rain” (68:9). This reference supports the connection with the following verses that also deal with rain. The following two verses (68:10–11) refer to the benefits that God gave to Israel after the march, namely, a land watered with rain. 19 As a result, a clear distinction is established between the “rebellious who dwell in a parched land,” mentioned at the end of the first stanza (68:7), and the people of Israel who are supplied with “rain in abundance” (68:10). 124F

125F

Section Two: 68:12–24 The description of God’s help and salvation to all humankind and to Israel in the first two stanzas serves as an introduction to the central section, which describes God’s salvation during the war. See Hossfeld and Zenger 2005:164. I intend to deal with the question of the chronological and literary relationship between theses verses elsewhere. 19 The exact meaning of the term ‫ חיתך‬used at the beginning of v. 11 to refer to the people will be explained below. 17 18

420

ISRAEL KNOHL Stanza 3 (68:12–14) ‫ַה ְמ ַב ְשּׂרוֹת ָצ ָבא ָרב‬ ‫וּנְ וַ ת ַבּיִת ְתּ ַח ֵלּק ָשׁ ָלל‬ ‫ַכּנְ ֵפי יוֹנָ ה נֶ ְח ָפּה ַב ֶכּ ֶסף‬

‫יִתּן א ֶֹמר‬ ֶ ‫יב ֲאד ֹנָ י‬ ‫יג ַמ ְל ֵכי ְצ ָבאוֹת יִ דּ ֹדוּן ִידּ ֹדוּן‬ ‫יד ִאם ִתּ ְשׁ ְכּבוּן ֵבּין ְשׁ ַפ ָתּיִם‬ ‫יה ִבּ ַיר ְק ַרק ָחרוּץ‬ ָ ‫רוֹת‬ ֶ ‫וְ ֶא ְב‬

The transition to a new stanza is again marked by a change in the person used to address the deity, this time from the second person to the third. Another mark of the new stanza is the use of the divine name “Adonai” for the first time in the psalm (68:12). This stanza, which opens the central section, refers first to an oracle or a war prophecy, 20 indicated by the phrase ‫אדני יתן אמר‬. The next verses cite God’s words, which are announced by the heralding women. The message tells of the coming defeat, the dispersion of the enemy kings, and the division of their spoil. 21 The fact that we have here an announcement which predicts the results of the battle before the war is reflected in the use of the future tense: ‫ידדון ידדון‬, ‫תחלק‬, ‫תשכבון‬. This device can be compared with the past tense used by the heralding women after the victory of David (see 1 Sam 18:7): ‫הכה שאול באלפיו ודוד ברבבותיו‬. This pre-war announcement ends with the description of the precious object in the second part of v. 14, an object that is part of the war booty. 126F

127F

Stanza 4 (68:15–19) ‫ַתּ ְשׁ ֵלג ְבּ ַצ ְלמוֹן‬ ‫טו ְבּ ָפ ֵרשׂ ַשׁ ַדּי ְמ ָל ִכים ָבּהּ‬ ‫ַהר גַּ ְבנֻ נִּ ים ַהר ָבּ ָשׁן‬ ‫�הים ַהר ָבּ ָשׁן‬ ִ ‫טז ַהר ֱא‬ ‫�הים ְל ִשׁ ְבתּוֹ‬ ִ ‫ָה ָהר ָח ַמד ֱא‬ ‫יז ָל ָמּה ְתּ ַר ְצּדוּן ָה ִרים גַּ ְבנֻ נִּ ים‬ ‫ַאף יְהוָ ה יִ ְשׁכֹּן ָלנֶ ַצח‬ ‫ַא ְל ֵפי ִשׁנְ ָאן‬ ‫�הים ִרבּ ַֹתיִם‬ ִ ‫יח ֶר ֶכב ֱא‬ ‫ֲאד ֹנָ י ָבם ִסינַי ַבּקּ ֶֹדשׁ‬ ‫ָל ַק ְח ָתּ ַמ ָתּנוֹת ָבּ ָא ָדם‬ ‫ית ֶשּׁ ִבי‬ ָ ‫ית ַל ָמּרוֹם ָשׁ ִב‬ ָ ‫יט ָﬠ ִל‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫סוֹר ִרים ִל ְשׁכֹּן יָ הּ ֱא‬ ְ ‫וְ ַאף‬ This stanza tells of the fulfillment of the oracle announcing the defeat of the enemy kings and their dispersion, which are now reported in the present tense: ‫בפרש שדי מלכים בה‬. The beginning of a new stanza is marked not only by the transition from future to present tense but also by the introduction of a new divine name, this time the name “Shaddai” (68:15). The last two verses of the stanza, 68:18–19, describe the divine army and 20 21

Compare, e.g., Hossfeld and Zenger 2005:165. See Hossfeld and Zenger 2005:165; Tate 1990:178.

PSALM 68: STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND GEOGRAPHY

421

mention the prisoners of war that were taken by God. 22 The meaning of the central verses 68:16–17 and their connection to the rest of the stanza will be discussed below. It should be noted that, at the end of the stanza, there is a reference to the rebellious ones who are mentioned after the prisoners of war: ‫סוררים‬ ‫שבית שבי … ואף לשכן יה אלהים‬. This echoes the reference to prisoners and rebellious ones at the end of the first stanza: ‫אך סוררים שכנו צחיחה‬. Finally, one may also note that the same verb, ‫שכן‬, is used in both cases after the reference to the rebellious ones. This may be regarded as a further indication of the integrity of the different stanzas of this psalm. Stanza 5 (68:20–21) ‫שׁוּﬠ ֵתנוּ ֶס ָלה‬ ָ ְ‫יַ ֲﬠ ָמס ָלנוּ ָה ֵאל י‬ ‫וְ ֵליהוִ ה ֲאד ֹנָ י ַל ָמּוֶ ת תּ ָֹצאוֹת‬

‫כ ָבּרוּ� ֲאד ֹנָ י יוֹם יוֹם‬ ‫מוֹשׁעוֹת‬ ָ ‫כא ָה ֵאל ָלנוּ ֵאל ְל‬

The fifth stanza is the shortest one; it is also unique in its content, as it contains a blessing formula for Elohim as “savior.” This blessing is said by the entire community in the first person plural; this is the first time that we see this form of speech within this psalm. In addition, the blessing presents a chiastic structure: ‫ תוצאות‬... ‫ האל לנו אל למושעות‬... ‫ האל ישועתנו סלה‬... ‫ברוך‬ The element of God’s salvation is emphasized by the repetition: “God is our salvation… Our God is a God of salvation.” In the context of the central section, presumably the reference is primarily to salvation in war. Stanza 6 (68:22–24) ‫ָק ְדקֹד ֵשׂ ָﬠר ִמ ְת ַה ֵלּ� ַבּ ֲא ָשׁ ָמיו‬ ‫ֹיְביו‬ ָ ‫יִמ ַחץ רֹאשׁ א‬ ְ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫כב ַא� ֱא‬ ‫ָא ִשׁיב ִמ ְמּ ֻצלוֹת יָ ם‬ ‫כג ָא ַמר ֲאד ֹנָ י ִמ ָבּ ָשׁן ָא ִשׁיב‬ ‫ֹיְבים ִמנֵּ הוּ‬ ִ ‫ְלשׁוֹן ְכּ ָל ֶבי� ֵמא‬ ‫כד ְל ַמ ַﬠן ִתּ ְמ ַחץ ַרגְ ְל� ְבּ ָדם‬ As was noted by Fokkelman (1990:77), the sixth stanza is the “twin” of stanza 3 (68:12–14). Whereas stanza 3 quoted the words of God before the battle, stanza 6 now quotes the words of God following the battle and the fulfillment of the previous oracle. The connection is highlighted by the chiastic format; compare ‫( אדני יתן אמר‬68:12) and ‫( אמר אדני‬68:23). Another, more subtle device that reflects the connection between the two stanzas is the duplication of verbs in both verses: compare ‫ידדון ידדון‬ (68:13) and ‫( אשיב אשיב‬68:23). The strong linguistic and thematic connections between stanzas 3 and 6 create a frame that holds together the various elements within the central section of Ps 68, which consists of 22

See Kraus 1993:54.

422

ISRAEL KNOHL

stanzas 3–6 (68:12–24). Fokkelman notes that the central section “is the full report of the war of liberation fought by God himself” (ibid.:76). Even though we do not have any term for liberation in this poem, the content of v. 30, which will be discussed below, appears to justify Fokkelman’s designation of this war as a war of “liberation.”

Section Three: 68:25–34 The third section looks back at the war that was described in section two. Stanza 7 (68:25–29) ‫ֲה ִליכוֹת ֵא ִלי ַמ ְל ִכּי ַבקּ ֶֹדשׁ‬ ‫תּוֹפפוֹת‬ ֵ ‫ְבּתוֹ� ֲﬠ ָלמוֹת‬ ‫ ִמ ְמּקוֹר יִ ְשׂ ָר ֵאל‬23 ‫ֲאד ֹנָי‬ ‫יְהוּדה ִרגְ ָמ ָתם‬ ָ ‫ָשׂ ֵרי‬ F 129

‫�הים זוּ ָפּ ַﬠ ְל ָתּ ָלּנוּ‬ ִ ‫עוּזָּ ה ֱא‬

‫�הים‬ ִ ‫יכוֹתי� ֱא‬ ֶ ‫כה ָראוּ ֲה ִל‬ ‫כו ִק ְדּמוּ ָשׁ ִרים ַא ַחר נֹגְ נִ ים‬ ‫�הים‬ ִ ‫כז ְבּ ַמ ְק ֵהלוֹת ָבּ ְרכוּ ֱא‬ ‫יָמן ָצ ִﬠיר ר ֵֹדם‬ ִ ְ‫כח ָשׁם ִבּנ‬ ‫ָשׂ ֵרי זְ ֻבלוּן ָשׂ ֵרי נַ ְפ ָתּ ִלי‬ � ֶ‫�הי� ֻﬠזּ‬ ֶ ‫כט ִצוָּ ה ֱא‬

This stanza opens the third and last section of the original poem. Stanza 7 mainly describes the procession and celebration after the victory. As in the case of stanzas 1 and 2, the transition to a new stanza is marked by the form of address to the deity: it changes from the third person in the sixth stanza to the second person in the seventh stanza. The stanza starts by mentioning the procession of God. I agree with Cassuto (1973:270) that the reference here is to “God who returns… to the Temple… after the defeat of the foe.” In addition, the imagery used in v. 25 binds together the description of God’s return to his sanctuary with the depiction of him as king (“the processions of my God, my King, into the sanctuary”). This is then followed by a detailed description of the procession of the people who celebrate the victory (vv. 26–29). The stanza ends aptly with a quotation of the words that were uttered by the people during the procession (v. 29). Stanza 8 (68:30–34) ‫יוֹבילוּ ְמ ָל ִכים ָשׁי‬ ִ �‫ְל‬ �‫רוּשׁ ָל‬ ָ ְ‫יכ ֶל� ַﬠל י‬ ָ ‫ל ֵמ ֵה‬ ‫ֲﬠ ַדת ַא ִבּ ִירים ְבּ ֶﬠגְ לֵ י ַﬠ ִמּים‬ ‫לא גְּ ַﬠר ַחיַּת ָקנֶ ה‬ ‫יֶח ָפּצוּ‬ ְ ‫ִבּזַּ ר ַﬠ ִמּים ְק ָרבוֹת‬ ‫ִמ ְת ַר ֵפּס ְבּ ַר ֵצּי ָכ ֶסף‬ ‫א�הים‬ ִ ‫כּוּשׁ ָתּ ִריץ ָיָדיו ֵל‬ ‫יֶא ָתיוּ ַח ְשׁ ַמנִּ ים ִמנִּ י ִמ ְצ ָריִ ם‬ ֱ ‫לב‬ The version ‫ אדני‬is supported by several Hebrew manuscripts, including the Aleppo Codex. The Leningrad Codex and other Hebrew manuscripts have the Tetragrammaton here. 23

PSALM 68: STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND GEOGRAPHY ‫זַ ְמּרוּ ֲאד ֹנָ י ֶס ָלה‬ ‫הֵן יִתֵּן בְּקוֹלוֹ קוֹל ע ֹז‬

423

‫א�הים‬ ִ ‫לג ַמ ְמ ְלכוֹת ָה ָא ֶרץ ִשׁירוּ ֵל‬ ‫שׁמֵי קֶדֶ ם‬ ְ ‫שׁמֵי‬ ְ ‫לד לָרֹכֵב ִבּ‬

Stanza 8 changes the focus: we no longer observe the Israelites celebrating their victory but rather the fate of the nations and their kings. Following God’s victory over the enemy, they are supposed to bring tribute to God as an acknowledgment of his superiority. Two nations are mentioned explicitly within this context: Egypt and Kush (68:32). As discussed above, the two final verses of this stanza (68:33–34) create an inclusio with v. 5. In these two final verses the nations are exhorted to sing to God .

2.2. THE CONCENTRIC STRUCTURE OF PSALM 68 As was already remarked by Hossfeld and Zenger (2005:161–62), Ps 68 is built according to a concentric structure: 24 The outer ring is formed by stanzas 1 and 8, both of which discuss the relationship between God and humankind. The first stanza describes the deity’s righteous rule over humanity, whereas in the last stanza we find a call to all kingdoms of earth to accept and proclaim his sovereignty. These two stanzas are further connected by the above mentioned inclusio. The next ring is formed by stanzas 2 and 7. Both of these stanzas describe the “walking” of God in connection with the walking of the Israelites. In the second stanza, we read about the march of God and Israel in the desert: “O God, when you went out before your people, when you marched through the wilderness” (68:8). In the seventh stanza, we see the procession of God and Israel after the victory: 130F

Your solemn processions are seen, O God, the processions of my God, my King, into the sanctuary, the singers in front, the musicians last, between them girls playing tambourines(68:26–27).

The next ring is formed by stanzas 3 and 6. The strong linguistic and thematic connections between stanzas 3 and 6 were noted above. The inner nucleus of the concentric structure is formed by the fourth and fifth stanzas. Here, we have the description of the enemy’s defeat by

24 However, Hossfeld and Zenger claim that this structure is restricted to the two outer rings only, while the core of the psalm (vv. 12–32) would be structured differently, mainly on a narrative principle. In my view, this latter part of their interpretation is problematic, and a concentric pattern can likewise be identified in the central section of the poem. The arguments for this claim are listed below.

424

ISRAEL KNOHL

the divine army, as well as of the blessing of the people after their salvation by God. Below is a graphic description of the concentric structure of this psalm: Outer ring Stanzas 1, 8 Ps 68:5–7, 30–34 First medial ring

Stanzas 2,7

Ps 68:8–11, 25–29

Second medial ring

Stanzas 3, 6

Ps 68:12–14, 22–24

Central ring

Stanzas 4–5

Ps 68:15–21

Let us now add the number of cola in each of these rings to this diagram. The numbers are based on the cola division that was presented at the beginning of this chapter. Outer ring Stanzas 1, 8 20 cola First medial ring

Stanzas 2,7

20 cola

Second medial ring

Stanzas 3, 6

13 cola

Central ring

Stanzas 4–5

17 cola

As was noted above, the central section of this psalm includes stanzas 3–6. The frame of this section is clearly marked by the linguistic and thematic affinities that are shared by the two outer stanzas, numbers 3 and 6. In this way, therefore, we can also regard this entire section as forming the inner ring of the psalm’s overall concentric structure. Let us now take the total number of cola of the central section and apply it to our diagram: Outer ring Stanzas 1, 8 20 cola Medial ring

Stanzas 2, 7

20 cola

Central Section

Stanzas 3–6

30 cola

All rings

Stanzas All

70 cola

We see here an elaborate numerical structure: The three rings together form the sacred number of 70 cola. Each of these rings contains a “full” number of cola, either 20 or 30. The number 17, which is the total number of cola of the two stanzas that stand at the center of the psalm (stanzas 4–5) has already been noted as a key number in the structure of several psalms and

PSALM 68: STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND GEOGRAPHY

425

probably has a symbolic meaning.25 The careful and elaborate numerical structure of the original nucleolus of this psalm (i.e., 68:5–34) is impressive. This numerical structure is based on the concentric structure of the different stanzas, a structure which has also thematic aspects. As we have seen, there are thematic connections between the two stanzas in each of the rings. Overall, these findings are consistent with the assumption made above that the earlier core of this psalm, the poem identified in vv. 5–34, is a homogenous composition. In this regard, the study of the structure of Ps 68 confirms our observation about the separation between the original psalm (68:5–34) and the secondary editorial addition in vv. 1–4, 35–36. As was noted above, within the original psalm a variety of divine names are used. Furthermore, in several cases, the transition from one stanza to another is marked by the use of a new divine name. In sharp contrast, the additional verses use only the names “Elohim” and “El.” Hence, it seems that these verses were added to enable the inclusion of this psalm within the “Elohistic Collection” or “Elohistic Psalter.”

2. THE GEOGRAPHICAL CONTEXT OF PSALM 68 2.1. “MOUNT BASHAN” IN PSALM 68 Various earlier scholars, such as Mowinckel, Weiser, Kraus and Gray, have argued for the northern origins of Ps 68. Identifying “Mount Bashan” in 68:16 with Mount Hermon and relying on the mention of “Tabor and Hermon” in Ps 89:13, they have suggested connecting Ps 68 with a temple on Mount Tabor. 26 While I fully agree with the notion of the northern origin of Ps 68, the connection with a temple on Mount Tabor is problematic in my view, especially considering the fact that Mount Tabor is not mentioned at all in our psalm.27 From a methodological perspective, the 25 See Labuschagne 2009:586, who suggested two possible interpretations for this prominence of the number 17: Either (1) this number is the numerical value of the word ‫טוב‬, or (2) the number 17 is the “small” numerical value of the Tetragrammaton. I tend to agree with the second explanation; as I have argued elsewhere (Knohl 2012), various biblical poems, both inside and outside the book of Psalms, contain literary units representing the numerical value of the Tetragrammaton. 26 See Gray 1977:4–5 for a convenient summary of earlier scholarly references. 27 The reference to Zebulon and the princes of Naphtali in v. 28 is not sufficient here, since Benjamin and Judah are also mentioned in this verse.

426

ISRAEL KNOHL

search for the geographical context of this psalm should be strictly based on the sole locations that are explicitly mentioned in the text. As was noted above, the central section of Ps 68, vv. 12–24, is mainly devoted to the description of war and victory. In v. 13, we read: “The kings of the armies, they flee, they flee,” and the fleeing enemy kings are mentioned again in v. 15: “When the Almighty scattered kings there, snow fell on Zalmon.” Mount Zalmon is mentioned once in the Hebrew Bible, as being in the area of Shechem (Judg 9:48). Since we have no other reference in this psalm to this area, however, this identification is not entirely satisfactory and we may look at other possibilities. In his commentary, Ibn Ezra refers to this verse, citing Zalmon as a known mountain in Transjordan. Indeed, in Ptolemy’s Geography (5:14:12),28 from the second century CE, we learn that the mountain known today as Jabel el-Druze was called Zalmon in his time. 29 This mountain is located in the land which in the Hebrew Bible is referred to as the land of “Bashan.” Thus, this location for Zalmon fits well with the reference to “Mount Bashan” in the next verse of the psalm. Hence, we should prefer the identification of Zalmon as being in the northern part of the Transjordan rather than in the area of Shechem. Following the mention of the snow on Zalmon, the poet addresses Mount Bashan: ‫ַהר גַּ ְבנֻ נִּ ים ַהר ָבּ ָשׁן‬ ‫�הים ַהר ָבּ ָשׁן‬ ִ ‫טז ַהר ֱא‬ ‫�הים ְל ִשׁ ְבתּוֹ‬ ִ ‫ָה ָהר ָח ַמד ֱא‬ ‫יז ָל ָמּה ְתּ ַר ְצּדוּן ָה ִרים גַּ ְבנֻ נִּ ים‬ ‫ַאף יְהוָ ה יִ ְשׁכֹּן ָלנֶ ַצח‬ ‫ַא ְל ֵפי ִשׁנְ ָאן‬ ‫�הים ִרבּ ַֹתיִם‬ ִ ‫יח ֶר ֶכב ֱא‬ ‫ֲאד ֹנָ י ָבם ִסינַי ַבּקּ ֶֹדשׁ‬ Many ancient and modern interpreters have seen here a description of the rivalry between Mount Bashan and Mount Sinai. However, in my view this interpretation is based on an incorrect understanding of the verb ‫תרצדו‬. Various manuals or dictionaries, such as BDB, render the meaning of this verb as “[to] watch stealthily, or with envious hostility.” In addition, BDB points to the parallel verb in Arabic, which means “[to] watch or wait (often lie in wait).”30 However, as was noted by J. A. Emerton, 31 the Arabic 136F

137 F

See Muller 1883:964. The connection between Ptolemy’s words and our psalm was first noted by Wetzstein (1884). His argument has been accepted since by several scholars. 30 See BDB, 952–53. 31 See Emerton 1993:28. See also Emerton’s rejection of the suggestion made by Cassuto (1973:264), who proposed rendering ‫ תרצדון‬as “yearning for a favorable opportunity.” 28 29

PSALM 68: STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND GEOGRAPHY

427

verb does not include the notion of “envy.” The occurrence of this verb in Ben Sira 14:22, ‫ירצד‬, likewise has no sense of envy, and its plain meaning is “to watch” or to “watch stealthily.” Thus, as was already noted by de Moor (1995:229), the “envious hostility” advanced by BDB and many commentators has no solid basis. Instead, we should understand 68:17 as a reference to the fact that the “many-peaked mountain” is watching stealthily but not with envy. This description connotes military ambush, which fits very well with the context of the central section of Ps 68. As was mentioned above, this section deals mainly with the battle. In Judg 9:25 we read that the men of Shechem ambushed men on the mountain tops. Similarly, here the high mountain is described as taking part in the ambush. This should be compared to the role played by the heavens and stars in the Song of Deborah (cf. Judg 5:20). Another possible interpretation is to follow the translation of the Targum ‫ תרקדון‬and to see here a question addressed to the mountains: “Why are you dancing?” As was noted by several scholars, this interpretation can be supported by the comparison with the dancing mountains mentioned in Ps 29:6, as well as with the question addressed to the mountains and hills in Ps 114:4. I am not persuaded by Cassuto’s arguments (1973:264 note 63); he rejects this comparison on the basis of the argument that in Ps 29:6 and 114:4, “the meaning is that the mountains skip on account of the fear of the Lord and because the majesty of his glory,” whereas this would not be the case in our verse. One could argue, though, that in Ps 68 also, the mountains are dancing because of their fear due to the arrival of God and his armies, which is described in the following verse (see 68:18). In any event, even if we adopt this alternative interpretation, there is no ground for assuming the presence of a notion of envy and rivalry between the mountains mentioned in the psalm. This, however, raises the question of the identity of the mountain mentioned as “Mountain of Bashan… many-peaked mountain” in 68:16– 17. The name “Bashan” appears in the Amarna letters, in the name of the city “Siri-basani” (see EA 201). This city was probably located in the region of Naveh, north of the Yarmuk River.32 Several biblical verses mention Mount Hermon as the northern border of the Bashan (cf. Deut 3:1–10; 4:47–48; Josh 12:4–5). For this reason, many scholars have identified “Mount Bashan” with Mount Hermon. 33 In support of this view, it should be noted that Mount Hermon has many peaks and thus fits well with the 138F

139 F

For this identification, see Ahituv 1984:181. See, for instance, Gray 1977:5; Emerton 1993:27; Kraus 1993:50; Goldingay 2007:323. 32 33

428

ISRAEL KNOHL

title ‫—הרים גבנונים‬the “many-peaked mountain,” referred to in v. 17. This image is also reflected in the plural form, ‫חרמונים‬, in Ps 42:7. As was correctly noted by Hossfeld and Zenger (2005:68), it seems that the battle that is described in the main section of this psalm took place in the area close to Mount Bashan, i.e., in the region of Mount Hermon. This notion is supported, in particular, by the formulation of v. 15: “When the Almighty scattered kings there, snow fell on Zalmon.” As was stated above, the location of Zalmon is probably in the same region. Thus, we may conclude that the battle probably took place somewhere in the Golan Heights, between Mount Bashan—(i.e., Mount Hermon), and Zalmon (i.e., Jabel-el-Druze). In our psalm, the poet approaches the many peaks of the Hermon and asks them: “Why are you watching stealthily?”—or, alternatively, “Why are you dancing?” (v. 17). The answer is given in the next verse (v. 18a), which refers to the thousands of chariots and bowmen of the divine army (cf., e.g., Albright 1950–1951:25). ‫ַא ְל ֵפי ִשׁנְ ָאן‬ ‫�הים ִרבּ ַֹתיִם‬ ִ ‫ֶר ֶכב ֱא‬ This interpretation of 68:16–18a has one significant implication. As noted above, no rivalry of mountains is involved here. Instead, both vv. 16 and 17 are dealing with the “many peaked mountain,” which should be identified with Mount Hermon. Therefore, the words of v. 17—“the mount that God desired for his abode, where the Lord will reside forever”—describe neither Mount Sinai nor Mount Zion, but Mount Hermon. This interpretation means that for the author of Ps 68, Mount Hermon was apparently considered to be like “Mount Olympus,” i.e., the location of God’s eternal residence. 34 This finding also suggests one should take a new look at the expression ‫ הר אלהים‬in v. 16. Day and Emerton have rightly rejected the interpretation of the word ‫ אלהים‬as a superlative here (Day 1985:116; Emerton 1993:29). In addition, Emerton also rejects the idea of a reference to a pagan sanctuary on Mount Bashan, correctly arguing that, “verse 17 speaks of the mountain where Elohim has been pleased to dwell; and if verse 16 means ‘Mount Bashan is a mountain of Elohim’ it is natural to suppose that Elohim in verse 17 is used in the same sense” (ibid.:34). 35 As 140F

14F

34

The possibility that Mount Hermon was considered to be Zaphon or Mount Olympus in early Israel was also suggested by Kraus 1993:50. Compare similarly Emerton 1993:33. 35 Since I do not see any rivalry between mountains here, for the reasons argued above, I cannot follow Emerton’s interpretation (ibid.:36–37), according to which

PSALM 68: STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND GEOGRAPHY

429

was noted by de Moor (1995:230), the simple meaning of this expression is that the Mountain of Bashan is the Mountain of God. This interpretation fits well with the next verse, which also speaks of Mount Bashan with its many peaks, and describes it as the eternal residence of YHWH. 36 This conception of Mount Bashan/Hermon probably has its roots in the Canaanite and Mesopotamian traditions, which see this area as the habitation of the gods. 37

2.3. “SINAI” IN PSALM 68:18 In the previous discussion, we noted the religious significance of Mount Bashan in Ps 68. However, it is remarkable that the reference in vv. 16–17 to Mount Bashan as God’s Mountain and the eternal residence of YHWH is followed in the next verse by a reference to the name “Sinai” (68:18). ‫ֲאד ֹנָ י ָבם ִסינַי ַבּקּ ֶֹדשׁ‬ ‫ַא ְל ֵפי ִשׁנְ ָאן‬ ‫�הים ִרבּ ַֹתיִם‬ ִ ‫ֶר ֶכב ֱא‬ As we have seen above, the first five words of this verse describe the divine army: thousands of chariots and bowmen. The question is, however, how the last four words should be understood, and how they relate to what precedes. ‫ִסינַ י ַבּקּ ֶֹדשׁ‬ ‫ֲאד ֹנָ י ָבם‬ Many scholars suggest emending the text and reading it as: ‫מסינַ י ַבּקּ ֶֹדשׁ‬ ִ ‫ֲאד ֹנָ י ָבא‬ This emendation is supported by the opening words of the Blessing of Moses, which describes God coming down from Sinai (Deut 33:2). As was already noted by Tate (1990:166 and 181), however, it is possible that there is really no need for this emendation; the words have a simple and clear meaning as they are, once “Sinai” is regarded not as the name of a mountain but rather as a divine name. 38 This interpretation is suggested, in particular, by the parallel between “Adonai” and “Sinai,” which is similar to the parallel between ‫ רכב אלהים רבתים‬and‫ אלפי שנאן‬in the first part of this 14F

v. 16 should be read as a question, while v. 17 would refer to the “envy” of the mountains. 36 This was noted already by Ibn Ezra, who writes in his commentary to this verse:‫ לא תשפל הר בשן כי אתה הר שחמדו המלאכים לשבת בו אף השכינה תשכן שם‬. 37 See Gilgamesh 5:6. For the possibility of locating El’s abode on Mount Hermon, see Lipinski 1971; Day 2002:31 note 51. 38 The suggestion proposed by several scholars, about the possible connection between “Sinai” and the name of the Mesopotamian moon god, Sin, is relevant in this context; see below, with note 45.

430

ISRAEL KNOHL

verse. 39 The poet says that “Adonai” is among them, 40 that is, among the angelic warriors who were described in the first part of the verse. He continues and says that “Sinai” is ‫בקדש‬, i.e., “among the holy ones.” 41 The two parts of the phrase say the same thing: the deity, who is called here “Adonai” and “Sinai,” stands in the midst of his divine army. In this regard, there is no tension between the reference to “Sinai” in 68:18 and the statement about the eternal residence of YHWH on Mount Bashan in the two previous verses. Indeed, even if we adopt the emendation ‫בא מסיני בקדש‬, there is no real contradiction between the mention of “Sinai” in this verse as the original place of “Adonai” and the statement in the previous verses that Mount Bashan is the eternal residence of God. It is possible to depict God as coming from his abode at Mount Sinai in order to assist his people in the war (see Judg 5 and Hab 3), and moreover, as deciding to reside on Mount Bashan and to make this mountain into His eternal abode. 145F

146F

147F

2.3. “SINAI” IN PSALM 68:8 The other mention of the name “Sinai” in our psalm is in v. 8: ‫ארץ רעשה אף שמים נטפו מפני אלהים זה סיני מפני אלהים‬ ‫אלהי ישראל‬ Scholars have suggested various meanings for the words ‫ זה סיני‬in this verse. 42 Some see them as a description of God—“the God of Sinai”—on the basis of its resemblance with similar expressions in other Semitic languages (e.g., Albright 1950–1951:20, and the references to other scholars holding this view in Dahood 1986:139). However, as others have pointed out (Birkeland 1948; Kraus 1993:46), this interpretation is somewhat problematic inasmuch as it is based on linguistic constructions that exist in other Semitic languages but are not documented in the Hebrew Bible.43 I 148F

149F

39 For another case of parallelism that consists of only four words, see 68:31: ‫ עדת אבירים‬and ‫בעגלי עמים‬. 40 For the construction ‫ אדני בם‬compare ‫( אך בך אל‬Isa 55:14) and ‫ה אין‬- ‫היהו‬ ‫( בציון‬Jer 8:19). 41 Tate 1990:166, cf. Exod 15:11; Ps 68:25; 77:14; 89:6–8. 42 As is well known, this phrase also appears in the Song of Deborah (Judg 5:5). The relation between Ps 68 and the Song of Deborah deserves a fuller discussion, which I intend to address elsewhere. 43 Other scholars have interpreted the phrase ‫ זה סיני‬as an editorial addition to connect the awe of nature before God with the event of the divine revelation at Sinai. See already Moore 1895:142, and more recently for instance Fishbane

PSALM 68: STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND GEOGRAPHY

431

think that the understanding that was gained above with regard to the meaning of the construct ‫אדני בם סיני בקדש‬, by interpreting the words ‫אדני‬ ‫ בם‬and ‫ סיני בקדש‬as parallel expressions referring to the deity, also makes it possible to interpret the expression ‫ זה סיני‬in a new light. We have seen that the parallelism shows that the writer of the psalm understood the word “Sinai,” like its parallel “Adonai,” as one of the names of God. In light of this, the words ‫ מפני אלהים זה סיני‬in v. 9 can be understood literally, in the sense that the writer of the psalm identifies “Elohim,” before whom the earth quakes and the heavens pour down rain, with “Sinai.” In this understanding, the verse should be rendered as follows: “The earth quaked, the heavens poured down rain, before Elohim—that is, Sinai.” The merit of this interpretation is that it is based on the usual meaning of the word ‫ זה‬in Biblical Hebrew, and does not depend on linguistic parallels with other Semitic languages.44 At the same time, this interpretation also raises a further question as to why the god of Israel is called “Sinai” here. One cannot maintain that this is because Mount Sinai is the place where that deity is revealed or where he dwells. As noted above, Ps 68:16–18 says nothing about the revelation of God on Mount Sinai or his presence on this mountain. On the contrary: according to the writer of this psalm, God dwells and is present on Mount Bashan. In my opinion, naming God as “Sinai” in this psalm is best explained as a way of connecting the god of Israel and the Mesopotamian moon god, “Sin,” or “Si-i-na.” 45 The god Sin was the chief god of the city of Haran, from where, 150F

15F

1985:54–55, 75. This understanding can explain the formulation of Judg 5:4–5, where the phrase ‫ זה סיני‬appears after the words ’‫הרים נזלו מפני ה‬. It is possible, in this sequence, to understand the phrase ‫ זה סיני‬as an editorial addition denoting the identity of the specific mountain to “melt down from before YHWH.” But the formulation of the reference to Sinai in Ps 68 is quite distinct, and the parallel with Judg 5 is not much help here. To be sure, assuming that Ps 68 is later than the Song of Deborah, one could argue the phrase ‫ זה סיני‬was mistakenly copied into the psalm. But this argument is not a likely one, as one would have to assume that the adapter omitted, for some reason, the significant words ’‫הרים נזלו מפני ה‬, even though he left the disconnected phrase ‫זה סיני‬. It is also difficult to accept Fishbane’s argument (ibid.:55) that the words ‫ זה סיני‬in Ps 68 were inserted by a later scribe in order to explain that the earthquake and downpour occurred at the time of the divine revelation at Sinai. If that were the reason for the addition, we would expect the phrase ‫( בסיני‬at Sinai), as opposed to ‫( זה סיני‬this is Sinai)! 44 For a similar usage of the word ‫זה‬, compare for instance Isa 23:13: ‫הן ארץ‬ ‫כשדים זה העם לא היה‬. 45 For the spelling “Si-i-na” see, e.g., Haas and Prechel 1993:361; the name is

432

ISRAEL KNOHL

according to the biblical tradition, the ancestors of the Israelite nation immigrated to Canaan. 46 It appears that the form of the Hebrew name “Sinai” was created after forms of the divine names ‫( אדני‬Adonai) and ‫( שדי‬Shaddai), which also figure in this psalm. 47 Divine names ending with a similar diphthong were current in Canaanite literature, 48 and it seems that Israelite divine names such as “Adonai,” “Shaddai” and “Sinai” were also formed in this way. In addition, the interpretation of Ps 68 offered here also suggests that the theological tendency reflected in this consists of taking divine names and attributes found in various cultural traditions and of merging them into a single divine entity whose name is “Elohim.” 49 Another example of this process can be found in the formulation of v. 5: ‫שירו לאלהים זמרו שמו סלו לרכב בערבות ביה שמו ועלזו לפניו‬ 153F

154F

15F

(“Sing to Elohim, sing praises to his name; lift up a song to him who rides upon the clouds—his name is Yah—be exultant before him.”) As noted above, many scholars consider that the Hebrew epithet ‫ רכב בערבות‬is based on the epithet of the Canaanite god Baal, ‫רכב ערפת‬, “he who rides on the clouds.” 50 But what is the meaning of the expression ‫ ביה שמו‬that comes after ‫ ?רכב בערבות‬Here, as it appears, 51 the author of the psalm is implying that this epithet, which was originally applied to the god Baal, has now been transferred to the god of Israel.52 Similarly, the same writer is stating that 156F

157F

158F

frequently spelt “Suen.” The possible connection between the name “Sinai” and the god “Sin” was already pointed out by some earlier scholars, see inter alia Lewy 1945–1946:441–445; Key 1965. 46 See Gen 12:4–5, 28:10. 47 See Ps 68:12, 15, 18, 20, 21, 23, 27, 33. On the possible connection between the names “Sinai” and “El Shaddai,” see Lewy ibid.:431 and note 138, as well as Key ibid.:24 and note 18. 48 See the discussion in Cross 1973:56. He links the form of the names “Artzai,” “Talai,” “Padrai,” and “Rahmai” to the name “Shaddai.” 49 For the meaning of “Elohim” as a name that contains the identity of many gods, and the Mesopotamian customs of identifying several divine names with one god, see Machinist 2011:230–232. 50 See above note 8. Even Day (2002) admits that the reference to God as rider in the sky in 68:34 implies a connection between Baal’s title and the reference to Israel’s deity in 68:5. 51 In the opinion of Arnold and Strawn (2003) the words ‫ ביה שמו‬are a gloss added by an editor. I believe that these words are a genuine part of the verse, expressing the poet’s theological purpose of identifying many divine entities as one. 52 According to Arnold and Strawn (ibid.: 431), the letter ‫ ב‬heading the word

PSALM 68: STRUCTURE, COMPOSITION AND GEOGRAPHY

433

“Sinai,” i.e. Sin, the Mesopotamian moon god, has now become one of the names of the god of Israel.53 Apparently, the exceptional meaning of “Sinai” as a divine name in Ps 68 was the earlier, original meaning. One can understand why later writers wanted to obscure the original meaning of “Sinai,” as well as the affinity between the god of Israel and the Mesopotamian god Sin. 54 The earliest effort in this direction was given, in my view, by the author of the Song of Deborah. As I plan to argue in detail elsewhere, the corresponding passage in Judg 5:4–5 represents an expanded and reworked version of Ps 68:8–9. The central aim of this reworked version was to shift the word “Sinai” from its original meaning as a divine name to the name of a mountain. It seems much more difficult to assume the opposite process. If the name Sinai originally referred to a geographical site, one can hardly understand why the author of Ps 68 would have changed it to a divine name.

2.4. “JERUSALEM” IN PSALM 68:30 The conception of Mount Bashan as the eternal residence of God stands in sharp contrast with the common ideology of the Hebrew Bible, which sees Jerusalem as God’s Eternal Mountain. This common observation is also reflected in verse 30 of our psalm: ‫יוֹבילוּ ְמ ָל ִכים ָשׁי‬ ִ �‫ְל‬ �‫רוּשׁ ָל‬ ָ ְ‫יכ ֶל� ַﬠל י‬ ָ ‫ֵמ ֵה‬ However, as was noted by several commentators, the syntax of the sentence is difficult; the tribute should be brought to God’s Temple, not “from Your Temple”—�‫יכ ֶל‬ ָ ‫מ ֵה‬. ֵ Because of this difficulty, some have suggested adding the problematic word �‫יכ ֶל‬ ָ ‫ ֵמ ֵה‬to the end of the previous verse, so that verses 29–30 read in the following way:55 16F

‫ ביה‬is used as an identifier. Goldingay (2007) claims that this letter is used for emphasis. 53 On the phenomenon of identifying and unifying divine entities in antiquity, see Smith 2010. 54 In principle, this is comparable to the Rabbinic neutralizing of the theological meaning of ‫עזזאל‬/‫ עזאזל‬by altering it to a geographical indicator of a severe and

harsh (‫עז‬, ‛az) place in the mountains (Babylonian Talmud, Sotah 67b). Possibly, the fact that the Elohistic and Deuteronomic sources of the Pentateuch do not use the name “Sinai,” but rather other geographical indicators (‫הר האלהים‬, ‫)חורב‬, indicates an attempt to further distance the connection with the god Sin. 55 See, e.g., Goldingay 2007:330; a similar assumption is made by various other scholars.

434

ISRAEL KNOHL �‫יכ ֶל‬ ָ ‫�הים זוּ ָפּ ַﬠ ְל ָתּ ָלּנוּ ֵמ ֵה‬ ִ ‫עוּזָּ ה ֱא‬

� ֶ‫�הי� ֻﬠזּ‬ ֶ ‫כט ִצוָּ ה ֱא‬

‫יוֹבילוּ ְמ ָל ִכים ָשׁי‬ ִ �‫ְל‬

�‫רוּשׁ ָל‬ ָ ְ‫ל ַﬠל י‬

The difficulty with this suggestion is that it does not explain what led to the separation of the word �‫יכ ֶל‬ ָ ‫ ֵמ ֵה‬from its original place in v. 29 and caused the current problematic syntax of v. 30. A more compelling solution, in my opinion, is to follow those scholars who have assumed that the syntax of v. 30 was indicative of the editorial reworking of this verse.56 I assume that the original reading of this verse contained a reference to the cultic center at Mount Bashan. A possible restoration should be: ‫מהיכל)ם אל הר בשן( לך יובילו מלכים שי‬ 162F

The editors wanted to adapt this psalm to the widespread belief about God’s residence in Jerusalem. It seems to me that these editors are the same editors who added the verses at the beginning and the end of the psalm in order to adapt it to the “Elohistic Psalter.” The “Elohistic” edition of the psalm probably took place during the Persian period, as is commonly accepted. At this time, the view of Jerusalem as the chosen place for God’s residence, as well as the only legitimate cultic place, was establishing itself in Yehud; accordingly, this led in turn to the emendation of references to other cultic settings.

2.5. THE GEOGRAPHY OF PSALM 68: CONCLUSIONS We may now summarize the results of the discussion of the geographical sections of this article. Contrary to the prevalent view, Ps 68 does not speak of the rivalry between mountains, and “Sinai” is not the name of a mountain in this psalm. The writer of Ps 68 perceived Mount Bashan as the eternal residence of YHWH. In addition to the religious significance of the Bashan, there is another dimension to this reference. The battle that is described in the heart of this psalm probably took place in the area between Mount Bashan-Hermon and Mount Zalmon, i.e., in the Golan Heights. The identification of this battle is connected with the broader question of the date of this psalm. I intend to explore this question elsewhere. REFERENCES

Ahituv, S. 1984. Canaanite Toponyms in Ancient Egyptian Documents. Jerusalem: Magnes. Compare, e.g., Mowinckel 1953:63; Gray 1977:5; Kraus 1993: 49–50, 55, and others. 56

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Albright, W. F. 1937. The Egyptian Correspondence of Abi Milki, Prince of Tyre. JEA 23:190–203. __. 1950–1951. A Catalogue of Early Hebrew Lyric Poems (Psalm LXVIII). HUCA 23:1–39. Arnold, B.T. and B.A. Strawn. 2003. A Hebrew Gloss to an Ugaritic Epithet? ZAW 115:428–432. Birkeland, H. 1948. Hebrew zae and Arabic du. Studia Theologica 2:201–202. Campbell, E. F. 1964. The Chronology of the Amarna Letters. Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press. Cassuto, M. D. 1973. Biblical and Oriental Studies. Vol. 1. Jerusalem: Magnes Press. Cross, F. M. 1973. Canaanite Myth and Hebrew Epic: Essays in the History of the Religion of Israel. Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press. Dahood, M. 1986. Psalms II, 51–100. New York, NY: Doubleday. Day, J. 1985. God’s Conflict with the Dragon and the Sea. Cambridge: University Press. __. 2002. Yahweh and the Gods and Goddesses of Canaan. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press. de Moor, J. C. 1995. Ugarit and Israelite Origins. Pp. 205–38 in Congress Volume Paris 1992, ed. Emerton. Leiden: Brill. Emerton, J. A. 1993. The ‘Mountain of God’ in Psalm 68:16. Pp. 24–37 in History and Traditions of Early Israel, eds. A. Lemaire & B. Otzen. Leiden: Brill. Fishbane, M. 1985. Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Fokkelman, J. P. 1990. The Structure of Psalm LXVIII. Pp. 72–83 in In Quest of the Past: Studies on Israelite Religion, Literature, and Prophetism: Papers Read at the Joint British-Dutch Old Testament Conference, Held at Elspeet, 1988, ed. van der Woude. Leiden: Brill. Goldingay, J. 2007. Psalms 42–89. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic. Grave, C. 1980. On the Use of an Egyptian Idiom in an Amarna Letter from Tyre and in Hymn to the Aten. OA 19:205–18. __. 1982. Northwest Semitic Sapanu in a Break-up of an Egyptian Stereotype Phrase in EA 147. Orientalia n.s. 51:161–82. Gray, J. 1977. A Cantata of the Autumn Festival. JSS 22:2–26. Haas, V. and D. Prechel. 1993. Mondgott. Pp. 360–371 in Reallexikon der Assyriologie. Vol. 8. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter. Hossfeld, F. L. and E. Zenger. 2003. The So-Called Elohistic Psalter. Pp. 35–51 in A God so Near, Old Testament Theology in Honor of Patrick D. Miller, eds. B. A. Strawn & N. R. Bowen. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns.

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__. 2005. Psalms, 2. Minneapolis: Augsburg-Fortress Press. Joffe, L. 2001. The Elohistic Psalter: What, How and Why? SJOT 15:142– 69. Key, A. F. 1965. Traces of the Worship of the Moon God Sîn among the Early Israelites. JBL 84:20–26. Knohl, I. 2012. Sacred Architecture: The Numerical Dimensions of Biblical Poems. VT 62:189–197. Kraus, H.-J. 1993. Psalms 60–150. Minneapolis: Fortress Press. Labuschagne, C. J. 2009. Significant Compositional Techniques in the Psalms: Evidence for the Use of Number as an Organizing Principle. VT 59:583–605. Lewy, J. 1945–1946. The Late Assyro-Babylonian Cult of the Moon. HUCA 19:405–489. Lipinski, E. 1971. El’s Abode. OLP 2:13–69. Machinist, P. 2011. How Gods Die, Biblically and Otherwise. A Problem of Cosmic Restructuring. Pp. 189–240 in Reconsidering the Concept of Revolutionary Monotheism, ed. Pongratz-Leisten. Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2011. Moore, G. F. 1895. Judges. Edinburgh: T.&T. Clark. Mowinckel, S. 1953. Der achtundsechzigste Psalm. Oslo: Jacob Bydwad. Müller, C. (ed.). 1883. CLAUDII PTOLEMAEI Geographia. Paris: FirminDidot. Smith, M. S. 2010. God in Translation: Deities in Cross-Cultural Discourse in the Biblical World. Grand Rapids, MI/Cambridge, UK: Eerdmans. Tate, M. E. 1990. Psalm 51–100. Dallas: Word Books. Wetzstein, J. G. 1884. Das batanaische Giebelgebirge. Leipzig: Drosling & Franke.

KEEPING THE FAITHFUL: PERSUASIVE STRATEGIES IN PSALMS 4 AND 62 DAVIDA CHARNEY

THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS AT AUSTIN Interest in viewing the psalms as arguments has been growing. In a 2008 volume devoted to the rhetoric of the psalms, Dale Patrick and Ken Diable argue that Israelites adopted a distinctive approach within the ancient Near East when attempting to persuade God to intervene in their personal troubles. 1 In his 2006 book, William S. Morrow describes a development from informal to formal argumentative prayers in pre-exilic Israel and their eventual eclipse by theological developments in the late Second Temple period. 2 My goal in this article is to introduce elements of contemporary rhetorical theory that can uncover sophisticated argumentative strategies in the psalms, providing additional evidence for addressing long-standing scholarly disputes over setting and interpretation. For this purpose, I will focus on two psalms, Ps 4 and Ps 62. The setting for Psalm 4 has generated some debate: Has the speaker come to the Temple seeking vindication against the false accusations of assembled opponents? Or is the speaker primarily a Temple functionary giving a wisdom-like speech against apostasy? The false accusation reading is the standard, adopted by Hans-Joachim Kraus and Richard Clifford, among others. 3 Anti-apostasy readings have been offered by Steven Croft, Craig D. Patrick and K. Diable, “Persuading the One and Only God to Intervene,” in R. Foster and D.M. Howard Jr. (eds.), My Words are Lovely. Studies in the Rhetoric of the Psalms (London/New York: T & T Clark, 2008), 19–32. 2 W.S. Morrow, Protest Against God. The Eclipse of a Biblical Tradition (Sheffield: Phoenix, 2006). 3 H.-J. Kraus, Psalms 1-59 (trans. H.C. Oswald; CC; Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1988). R. Clifford, Psalms 1-72 (AOTC; Nashville: Abdingdon, 2002), 52– 1

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Broyles, and John Goldingay. 4 In reviewing the debate, Rolf Jacobson shows that both readings plausibly account for some but not all the contentious points of translation and interpretation. 5 No one takes the two readings as mutually exclusive; as Jacobson argues, there is no “altar of certitude” on which to decide among historical, theological, and canonical readings. However, seeking evidence for competing interpretations often highlights important elements within and across psalms. In this case, the debate on Ps 4 has thus far overlooked its similarity to Psalm 62. The setting for Ps 62 has not seemed controversial; it is generally taken as a call from an individual for vindication or rescue. Kraus and Carleen Mandolfo see the speaker as an ordinary individual, one facing persecution and seeking judicial or divine protection at the sanctuary. 6 Croft and Dave Bland see the speaker as an embattled king seeking an oracle of safety when facing treachery or a military siege. 7 However, on closer examination, the case for seeing the speaker as a petitioner is actually quite weak. In only five psalms does a speaker directly address opponents at any length: Ps 52 and Ps 58, Ps 4 and Ps 62, and Ps 82. In Ps 52 and Ps 58, the direct address takes the form of “shock and awe”: The opponents are rebuked, reminded of God’s might, and threatened with complete destruction. However, Ps 4 and Ps 62 both move beyond rebuking opponents to offering advice for returning to faithful or moral practice. Psalm 82 is unique not only because the speaker is God addressing opposing deities, but also because God both offers advice and threatens destruction. By employing two pieces of contemporary rhetorical theory, I will argue for viewing both Ps 62 and Ps 4 as public efforts by a confident speaker to persuade skeptical or immoral hearers to return to faithfulness.

55.

4 S.J.L. Croft, The Identity of the Individual in the Psalms (JSOTSup, 44; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1987). C.C. Broyles, Psalms (Peabody: Hendrickson, 1999). J. Goldingay, “Psalm 4. Ambiguity and Resolution,” TynBul 57 (2006), 161–72. 5 R. Jacobson, “The Altar of Certitude,” in R. Foster and D. M. Howard, Jr. (eds.), My Words Are Lovely: Studies in the Rhetoric of the Psalms (New York: T&T. Clark, 2008), 3–18. 6 C. Mandolfo, God in the Dock: Dialogic Tension in the Psalms of Lament (JSOTSup, 357; London: Sheffield, 2002), 18. H.-J. Kraus, Psalms 60-150 (trans. H.C. Oswald; CC; Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1989). 7 Croft, The Identity of the Individual, 127. D. Bland, “Exegesis of Psalm 62,” ResQ 23 (1980), 82–95.

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TWO PIECES OF RHETORICAL THEORY: AMPLITUDE AND IDENTIFICATION In modern times, the scope of rhetorical theory has broadened beyond the classical venues of courts, legislatures, sanctuaries, and civic ceremonials to all situations and settings for public or professional discourse. In order for a situation to be a rhetorical situation, a speaker has to experience a sense of exigence or urgency that can be productively addressed with language.8 The speaker fashions language into a spoken or written text and delivers it in such a way as to influence a set of hearers/readers who have some ability to affect the situation and perhaps ameliorate the urgency. Much of rhetorical theory focuses on the challenges of addressing diverse audiences, a topic raised by two of the most important 20th century theorists, the Belgians Chaïm Perelman and Lucie Olbrechts-Tyteca and the American Kenneth Burke. 9 Both recognized that agreement is a volatile matter of degrees, not absolutes. In any public situation, the people in an assembly are likely to represent a wide spectrum of viewpoints. A few agree on most or all points with the speaker, some are opposed on one or two points, some are somewhat negatively disposed, and a few are outright hostile. In any given crowd, all types of hearers will be present in greater or lesser proportions, so speakers adjust their strategies accordingly. To move the preponderance of a crowd in his/her direction, a speaker may well focus on winning over a 8 For discussions of whether rhetorical situations simply arise or are constructed, see L. Bitzer, “The Rhetorical Situation,” Philosophy & Rhetoric 1 (1968), 1–14 and S. Consigny, “Rhetoric and Its Situations,” Philosophy & Rhetoric 7 (1974), 175–186. 9 Ch. Perelman and L. Olbrechts-Tyteca, The New Rhetoric: A Treatise on Argumentation (trans. J. Wilkinson & P. Weaver; Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1969). While Chaïm Perelman and Lucie Olbrechts-Tyteca were partners in researching and writing The New Rhetoric, for convenience, I will use Perelman’s name hereafter. K. Burke, A Rhetoric of Motives (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1969). For a discussion of how Burke and Perelman fit into the history of rhetorical theory from classical Athens to modern times, see S.M. Halloran, “Tradition and Theory in Rhetoric,” Quarterly Journal of Speech 62.3 (1976), 234–241. For a review of recent theory and research on audience—and Burke and Perelman’s centrality to these debates, see C. Miller and D. Charney, “Audience, Persuasion, and Argument,” in C. Bazerman (ed.), Handbook of Research on Writing: History, Society, School, Individual, Text (New York: Routledge, 2007), 583–598.

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swath of those opposed on a few points rather than trying to convert the small group of hostile listeners. By standing up to opponents in public, of course, the speaker also encourages those who already agree to remain steadfast. One useful strategy for diverse audiences is the allocation of material in a text, what Perelman calls “amplitude” and Burke calls “amplification.” 10 While warning against unnecessary repetition, Perelman notes that repeating a point and elaborating on it increases its presence or salience in the hearers’ minds. When addressing a mainly supportive crowd, a speaker’s main goal may be to strengthen the hearers’ adherence by vividly rehearsing points they all agree on and emphasizing their significance. But when the goal is to move hearers, to change their beliefs, attitudes, or behaviors, the speaker must also anticipate points of disagreement. Perelman suggests accumulating many different arguments that all lead to the same conclusion, because each hearer may be susceptible to different reasons and appeals. Most theorists have discussed amplitude in terms of the patterns with which a point can be developed and elaborated, overlooking its usefulness as an important clue for rhetorical analysis. In particular, as I have shown elsewhere, writers of public policy arguments regularly allocate the greatest proportion of total textual space to the most important and controversial points. In this article, I will show how identifying the points of greatest amplitude in each psalm helps to disambiguate the setting. A second important persuasive strategy is creating psychological connections between the speaker and the hearers, a strategy that Perelman calls “association” and that Burke (for whom this concept is far more central) calls “identification.” Identification can be positive or negative. In the positive form, the speaker heightens the interests that he/she holds in common with the hearers. In the negative form, a speaker works to turn hearers away from a rival’s arguments by emphasizing conflicts between the hearers’ and the rival’s interests. Burke calls this “identification by antithesis” which creates “union by some opposition shared in common.” 11 Apart from explicitly criticizing rivals, a speaker may also create dissociation by challenging the meaning of a concept, distinguishing some aspect of it as true or good and disparaging the other. In some cases, as M.A. van Rees

10 Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca, 474. Burke, 69. For a discussion and history of amplification, see J. Fahnestock, Rhetorical Style: The Uses of Language in Persuasion (New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 2011). 11 K. Burke, “The Rhetorical Situation,” in L. Thayer (ed.), Communication: Ethical and Moral Issues (New York: Routledge, 1973), 263–274.

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notes, the speaker puts two seemingly similar concepts side by side, assigning positive value to one and negative value to the other. 12 In the readings that follow, I will show the similar ways in which identification is deployed in Ps 4 and Ps 62. In both cases, the strategies aim to turn strayers back to faithful moral behavior.

PSALM 4 Ps 4 can be divided by addressee into three sections. The speaker addresses God in the frame (v. 2 and vv. 8–9) but addresses opponents in the central section, as sketched below. Clearly, the preponderance of space is devoted to the opponents. As I will show below, even the final two verses can be read as a rejoinder to opponents. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Allocation of Space in Psalm 4

Superscription Plea to God for attention Rebuke to opponents for apostasy/false accusation Advice to opponents Advice to opponents Advice to opponents Citation of opponents’ response/Expression of trust Rejoinder/Expression of trust Rejoinder/Expression of trust

The opening verse, v. 2, is a fairly standard invocation of God, establishing the speaker as a faithful Israelite who calls on God in times of trouble and expects to be answered. In contrast to the opening of most laments, the speaker makes no additional calls for God’s attention and gives no description of the current situation. So it is plausible that the verse is setting up a charge of false accusation, but it also sets up a dramatic reversal. The assembled hearers are led to expect a lament, but the speaker instead turns and rebukes them.

12 M. A. van Rees, “Indicators of Dissociation,” in F. H. van Eemeren and P. Houtlosser (eds.), Argumentation in Practice (Amsterdam: John Benjamins, 2005), 53–67. Paul Krugman created this kind of dissociation in a recent op-ed article, “Boring Cruel Romantics,” in the New York Times (20 Nov. 2011), A29. Krugman, who considers himself a “technocrat,” challenges the application of the term to new leaders in Europe who implement fiscal austerity. Krugman argues that these leaders “are not technocrats. They are, instead, deeply impractical romantics.”

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The rebuke that opens the lengthy central section (vv. 3–7) comes in the form of a rhetorical question: “how long will my glory be mocked?”13 A strict false accusation reading depends heavily on taking ‫“ כבודי‬my glory” as pertaining to the speaker’s own honor or reputation because nothing else in the psalm refers to attacks on the speaker. Such attacks are described quite explicitly in other psalms assigned to the false accusation category. 14 In contrast, the anti-apostasy reading may read ‫“ כבודי‬my glory” as referring to Israel’s glorious God. 15 The speaker follows the rebuke with an extended effort to persuade opponents to return to faithful observance and a specific process for doing so. The first step of this process, in v. 4, is reminiscent of contemporary self-help programs: asking hearers to admit that they have a problem in lacking God’s favor. The next steps are spelled out in vv. 5–6 with three pairs of imperative verbs that proceed in a logical progression: quake and refrain, speak and be still, offer and trust. The first verb in each pair is an action and the second inaction. The first pair, “tremble, sin no more,” refers to getting out of the habit of apostasy. The verb ‫“ רגזו‬quake” is found four other times in the psalms (Pss 18:9, 77:17; 19, 99:1), all of which describe the physical world exhibiting awe of God—the hills, the water, the earth. If awe of God can inspire nature to quake, then apostates can find it in their nature to do the same. Paired with quaking is the inaction of not sinning; that is, the apostate is urged to intentionally refrain from inappropriate action. The first pair, then, refers to externally manifested behavior. The next pair are psychological steps: speaking and being still in bed, where, as Michael Barré has noted, a person is most sincere. 16 The image of overcoming internal debate while in bed also occurs in Ps 16:7 in which the speaker is helped by God’s counsel after being lashed by his conscience (or 175F

176F

17F

178F

Unless otherwise indicated, translations are from JPS Hebrew-English Tanakh, (2nd ed. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1999). 13

14 For a close discussion of the criteria that should be applied to this category, see W.H. Bellinger, Jr., “Psalms of the Falsely Accused: A Reassessment,” SBLSP 25 (1986), 463–469. Bellinger distinguishes between false-accusation psalms where the context of a judicial proceeding seems justified (Pss 7, 17, and 27) from apparent cases where opponents seem merely to be engaging in malicious gossip (Pss 31, 64, and 28). Only the former include uses of legal language and forms: selfimprecation, appeals for acquittal, and oaths; references to a “just cause”; and verbs of testing and trying. 15 See references in fns. 4– 5 for a detailed review of these options. 16 M. Barré reviews Biblical images of conscience-stricken insomnia in “Hearts, Beds, and Repentance in Psalm 4, 5 and Hosea 7, 14,” Bib 76 (1995), 53–62.

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kidneys). The speaker in Ps 4:5 is instructed to engage in this internal struggle. Pairing this struggle with an effort to become still is far from contradictory. In fact, the sense of ‫“ דומם‬stilling” as a recovery from agitation is also posited in Ps 131:2 by P. J. Botha and H. Stephen Shoemaker. 17 Achieving stillness after struggling with temptation would be quite an accomplishment for apostates. The final pair of imperative verbs, in Ps 4:6, is “offer and trust.” After feeling awe, refraining from sin, struggling with temptation, and achieving stillness, the strayer is ready to make a positive action to serve God. The emphasis on making “righteous” sacrifices may be needed for people who are partially assimilated; apostates may well have been combining practices appropriate for YHWH with those distinctly associated with foreign gods. Only purely appropriate sacrifice can lead to a final state of trust in God. The ordering of sacrifice before trust implies that practice may precede belief, a positioning that echoes Exod 24:7, “we will do and we will hear.” Thus the greatest amplitude in Ps 4, the bulk of the space, is devoted to addressing opponents with a rebuke followed by a persuasive and poetic sequence of steps that strayers can follow to return to faithfulness. While it is still possible to view the speaker as a troubled petitioner, his attention is almost exclusively devoted to the future behavior of the opponents, rather than to securing rescue or vindication. Returning to faithfulness is also promoted through the strategy of identification. The speaker uses positive identification in the framing sections by modeling appropriate behavior and referring to first-hand experiences. While v. 2 is addressed to God, it also establishes the speaker as someone ‫“ בצר‬in dire straits,” who has suffered “distress” and who calls out to God. This is not someone whose life has gone altogether smoothly—a history that hearers of all degrees of faithfulness are likely to share. While the speaker may have been unusually successful when he has called to God (v. 2 and v. 4), being answered or relieved in times of trouble is a shared goal that they all aspire to. More shared goals are set out in vv. 8–9. The speaker is able to sleep soundly and quietly at night, in contrast to the quaking hearers in v. 5 and achieves joy in his relationship with God, a joy that may match or exceed “the good” that the hearers are seeking in v. 179F

17 P. J. Botha, “To Honour Yahweh in the Face of Adversity: A Socio-Critical Analysis of Psalm 131,” Skrif En Kerk 19 (1998), 525–33. H. S. Shoemaker, “Psalm 13,” Review & Expositor 85 (1988), 89–94. In contrast, Barré (“Hearts, Beds,” 5860) translates this pair of verbs as “quake” and “wail.” P. Raabe gives a helpful suggestion that the resonance of stilling and wailing enriches the effect in “Deliberate Ambiguity in the Psalter,” JBL 110 (1991), 213–227.

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7. These positive forms of identification set up the speaker as someone who is enough like the hearers that they may feel motivated to reconnect with God. Thus the frame of the psalm strengthens the force of the process for returning in the central verses. The most powerful strategy in Ps 4, however, is the use of disidentification in vv. 7–9 where the speaker pulls receptive opponents away from extremists who are characterized as greedy and irreverent. The dissociation is accomplished in part by a change in voice. Up until now, in vv. 4–6, the speaker has addressed the opponents directly using second person. He has accused all those assembled of seeking vain things and lies. But in v. 7, the voice shifts. In v. 7, the speaker figuratively points at ‫רבים‬ “the many” who are only interested in “the good(s).” The effect of the indefinite expression “many say” is like that of a school principal at an assembly announcing that many students have been sassing teachers or writing graffiti on the walls. The implication is that the culprits are present and well known to the crowd, as if the principal had said “all of you know very well who you/they are.” By referring to the worst culprits in third person, the speaker is inviting the lesser offenders to distance themselves from the habitual or extreme offenders. Then the speaker reports what the offenders are saying. The quote should be read as extending to the end of v. 7. The extremists are not seriously asking to be shown what’s good or for the favor of God’s face but are mockingly asserting that they do not need it; apparently, they are worshipping other gods because they have prospered materially by doing so. The indirect reference to the lifting of God’s face from the Priestly Blessing (Num 6:24–26) is then an especially cheeky bit of mockery. 18 The key to interpreting v. 7 is that it is the speaker who is reporting the putative words of the offenders. The bolder and more irreverent the quote, the better for the speaker’s goals. Hearers who have not strayed quite so far may be shocked by the mockery at the same moment as they are pushed by the pronouns to take sides, to identify with the “us” of the extremists or to see the extremists as “them” along with the upright speaker. In the concluding two verses, Ps 4:8–9, the speaker returns to addressing God, providing the usual closing expression of praise and trust. Goldingay sees this move as the speaker, having failed to reach people with 180F

18 In addition to reading this phrase as mockery, Goldingay also allows a translation of it as an assertion of estrangement: “the light of your face has fled from over us” (“Psalm 4,” 167). In this, he follows J. H. Eaton, “Psalm 4:7,” Theology 67 (1964), 355–357.

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a “bad attitude,” moving on to his or her own concerns, simply hoping “that God may change these people.” 19 But it is also possible to interpret vv. 8–9 as a rejoinder to the extremists’ view. The speaker concedes in v. 8 that the apostates have gained material rewards by referring to ‫“ דגנם ותירושם‬their grain and their drink.” But the speaker trumps these rewards with the greater joy he receives from communion with God. Goldingay sees the speaker’s joy occurring ‫ מעת‬at the same time that the opponents’ grain and wine become abundant, emphasizing that the speaker feels joy even when the others seem to be rewarded. Jacobson translates ‫ מעת‬not as “at the time of” but as a comparative “more than when,” implying that the speaker’s joy is greater than the joy coming from material rewards. Either way, the speaker is challenging the value of the apostates’ goods. The final verse, v. 9, with its reference to sleeping well and having peace, contrasts directly with the state prescribed for the strayers in v. 5. The reference to peace, Goldingay suggests, harkens back to the final part of the Priestly Blessing, which conveys a state of physical completeness or well-being. The speaker is not joyful in the face of deprivation, but in the expectation that God also provides sufficient material sustenance. In sum, the speaker’s persuasive power derives from the considerable space devoted to addressing and referring to the strayers, the choice and sequence of imperative verbs used to address them, as well as the use of both positive and negative strategies of identification to draw the strayers toward the speaker and away from more extreme rivals.

PSALM 62 The speaker of Psalm 62 is generally seen as an ordinary person or an embattled king, seeking protection in a religious or judicial setting. 20 In this view, it is the speaker who is the subject of the attacks of the crowd, who at times feels safe in God’s refuge and at times feels as weak as a tottering fence, who shifts between complaining and expressing trust. Having reached safety by the end, the speaker can indulge in a hortatory impulse to advise the opponents to give up their bad ways. But the case for seeing the speaker as a conflicted petitioner is weak. Unlike the usual lament, Ps 62 lacks any direct second-person plea to God for rescue. While the plot in vv. 4–5 is familiar from laments in which enemies try to trap or trip up the speaker (e.g., Pss 35, 64, 140), unlike these 182F

Goldingay, “Psalm 4,” 170. Mandolfo, God in the Dock, 18; Kraus, Psalms 60–150; Croft, Identity of the Individual, 127; Bland, “Exegesis of Psalm 62.” 19 20

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psalms, the threat in Ps 62 lacks any first person reference—the victim is described in third person as ‫“ אישׁ‬a man.” While ‫ אישׁ‬might refer to the speaker, the word is not used as a self-reference in any of the 35 other psalms where it occurs. Recognizing the victim as an unnamed third party allows an alternative view that Ps 62, like Ps 4, is a public effort to persuade hearers to return to faithful, moral behavior. Rather than oscillating between trust and doubt, the speaker is consistent in modeling a sense of security while trying to protect the weak-willed from the bad influence of the opponents. To support this reading, I will again examine both the amplitude of points and the use of identification. Space in Ps 62, as sketched below, is dominated by the speaker’s expressions of trust in God as a personal refuge and rescuer at the opening, center, and closing of the psalm. The phrasing in vv. 2–3 is reformulated in vv. 6–8 to create a memorable refrain. The closing in vv. 12–13 turns from personal trust to trust that God's actions towards all are fitting. Repetition is the classic form of amplitude; here it emphasizes and re-emphasizes the speaker’s security and contrasts it to the doubts and weaknesses of the others. Allocation of Space in Psalm 62 1 Superscription 2 ‫אך‬ God as refuge 3 ‫אך‬ God as refuge 4 ‫ עד אנה‬Direct rebuke 5 ‫אך‬ Indirect rebuke. Selah. 6 ‫אך‬ God as refuge 7 ‫אך‬ God as refuge 8 ‫על‬ God as refuge 9 ‫בטחו‬ Process: Trust and pour out. Selah. 10 ‫אך‬ Human strength/value as illusory 11 ‫אל‬ Process: Reject violence; reject robbery; reject ill-gotten gains. 12 ‫אחת‬ God’s might 13 ‫ולך‬ God’s faithfulness; God’s fairness. The seven verses that express security are balanced by five verses that address opponents, with direct and indirect rebukes in vv. 4–5 and a sequence of prescriptions in vv. 9–11. As in Ps 4, the rebuke in Ps 62:4–5 opens with questions addressed to all the hearers challenging their misdeeds. Rather than apostasy, however, the hearers seem to be attacking members of the community and leading them astray. The opponents are seeking to tempt the weak-minded into unfaithful or unlawful activity—in

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effect pulling them down like a wall that is already leaning or fence that is already tottering. As in Ps 4, the prescribed actions for recovery in vv. 9–11 follow a logical order. The first steps, in v. 9, are for the opponents to trust in God and pour out their hearts to God. The series of imperatives is interrupted in v. 10 with a reminder that humans lack strength, endurance, and value—the very qualities repeatedly attributed to God in the three-part frame. Gaining security from relying on God rather than humans enables the opponents to reorder their values. Accordingly, in v. 11, they are told to renounce violence, robbery, and ill-gotten gains. As in Ps 4, the underlying motive for straying turns out to be greed, an attraction to material reward. So the wisdom-like pronouncements in vv. 12–13 serve as a rebuttal. In the greater scheme of things, material gain is immaterial because God balances the accounts. A special form of amplitude in Ps 62 is the sound pattern of the verse-initial Hebrew words, a pattern that usually goes unrepresented in translation but must have been quite striking in oral performance. The initial words of all but one verse begin with a guttural (either ‫ א‬or ‫—ע‬the latter only twice) followed by a pataḥ, with �‫ ַא‬at the head of six verses.21 These verse-initial words are remarkable in several ways. First is their sound. A skillful speaker may draw out or cut short such sonorous openings in attention-getting ways, playing them out with drama or humor. Second the repetition sets up expectations that the speaker can and does break just at the most important moment. The string of gutturals+pataḥ breaks in v. 9 with the imperative ‫“ בטחו‬trust” that begins with a voiced stop or plosive consonant. The break occurs at the very point instructions for returning to faithfulness begin, where the speaker commands the hearers to follow his own example by trusting in God. Third is their sense. Norman Snaith argues that the exclamation ‫ אך‬always carries a restrictive or adversative meaning.22 He translates it as “yes but on the contrary” or “despite” or “whatever may be said to the contrary.” So while this speaker does not go as far as the speaker in Ps 4 in anticipating and responding to the opponents’ objections, the repetitions of ‫ אך‬suggest that he sees his claims as sufficient response to whatever they might say. 183F

184F

Bland, “Exegesis of Psalm 62” is one of the few commentators who note the alliteration of the vowel-initial words in the first half of the psalm as well as the adversative meaning of ‫אך‬. Jin H. Han in his recent talk “Lists with Wit in Proverbs” at the SBL meeting in Chicago (17 Nov 2012) noted similar aural uses of wit outside the psalms. 22 N. H. Snaith, “The Meaning of the Hebrew ʾk,” VT 14 (1964), 221–225. 21

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Identification also plays an important role in Ps 62. Viewing the psalm as a public argument against greed-induced bad behavior changes the speaker from an aggrieved victim into moral agent. The speaker also comes across as a skillful performer, by virtue of the careful balance of space, the refrains, and the sound pattern of the verses. These qualities set the speaker somewhat apart from the crowd, as someone to be admired. Yet the speaker makes many of the same gestures of positive identification as the speaker in Ps 4. The repeated declarations of security show the speaker to be successful in calling on God in times of trouble. In v. 2, the speaker alludes to previous struggles from which ‫ דומיה נפשי‬he has achieved stillness and been rescued. He even qualifies his stability in v. 3: ‫אמוט רבה‬ ‫“ לא‬I won’t be moved much.” The speaker remains approachable. The speaker’s attitude to the hearers, however, is more complex than in Ps 4. The initial rebuke for plotting against the victim is aimed at ‫כלכם‬ the entire crowd. The speaker does not single out the weak-willed victim for direct address in vv. 4–5; he is referred to only in third person. The victim may be a specific person, well-known to the crowd or a general type of person, some of whom may be present. But as in Ps 4, the speaker shifts to talking about the offenders in third person in Ps 62:5, again allowing for a dissociation of the worst offenders from the merely wavering. In this case, however, the most vivid and shocking charge is addressed to everyone, while the more common charges of evil intentions, lying, and hypocrisy are attributed to “them.” The dissociative effect remains the same: anyone guilty of minor charges feels singled out—but can still feel superior to others in the crowd who may be guilty of the worse offenses. The advice for recovering stability and moral values in vv. 9–11 is useful for everyone, waverers and offenders alike. Overall, taking the speaker of Ps 62 as a confident and secure individual aiming to persuade an unruly crowd produces a coherent reading that accounts for the careful balancing of space between expressing security and addressing opponents, the contrast between God’s power and the human instability and evanescence, and the carefully designed sound pattern that heightens attention to the command to “trust in God.” The psalm presents a unified and striking statement of communal values. As Jeffrey Walker notes in his analysis of oral poetic argument in archaic Greece, “the successful poem will offer its audience an elegant, memorable, aesthetically satisfying representation of situations and attitudes with which they more or less identify already: the audience sees itself, or its values, reflected strikingly.” 23 185F

J. S. Walker, Rhetoric and Poetics in Antiquity (New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 2000), 268. 23

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CONCLUSION In this paper, I have promoted anti-apostasy readings of Pss 4 and 62. In both cases, the speakers deploy an array of persuasive strategies to persuade strayers to return to faithful behavior, a mission that the speaker in Ps 51:15 also subscribes to: “I will teach transgressors your ways that sinners may return to you.” But if the strayers are the intended hearers and the targets of the speakers’ persuasive strategies, why do Pss 4 and 62 look so much like other individual psalms, whether psalms of lament, thanksgiving or trust, where both the underlying and ostensible addressee is God? Psalm 4 both opens and closes by calling on God’s protection, as in many laments. Psalm 62 opens by expressing trust in God and closes by declaring God’s power, as in many psalms of trust. If we assume that many first-person psalms were performed in public places by talented poets and musicians, then they may have attracted audiences of many stripes. It is possible that the speakers of these psalms used the usual setting as bait to attract crowds that included many strayers, but then switched tack to address the strayers directly. In supporting the anti-apostasy readings, I’m not intending to offer them up on the altar of certainty that Rolf Jacobson has rightly rejected. Every psalm can support a variety of readings, even those that seem mutually exclusive. My goal here rather has been to raise attention to the value of contemporary rhetorical theory for recognizing additional aspects of a psalm that should be considered when weighing the plausibility of alternative readings. My larger project is to show the relationship of many first-person psalms to deliberative arguments in which a speaker/author attempts to persuade others to take action concerning an urgent problem. I have identified a small number of recurring stances that speakers in the psalms take vis-à-vis God and the rest of the community. These stances include: maintaining the status quo, establishing an innocent’s right of redress, 24 denouncing others, appealing to God’s self-interest, acting as a model for others, and convincing one’s self. From a rhetorical perspective, it becomes clear that the speakers of the psalms experience a full range of emotions from satisfaction to smugness, from despair to vindictiveness. For these Israelites, the covenant is a two-way street; they are partners with God in an on-going relationship. In good times, they constantly remind themselves and God of the terms of this relationship. In times of trouble, they 24 See D. Charney, “Maintaining Innocence Before a Divine Hearer: Deliberative Rhetoric in Ps. 22, Ps. 17, and Ps. 7.” BibInt 21 (2013).

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passionately challenge God for tolerating injustice and allowing the innocent to suffer. Overall, the speakers portray themselves as actively and critically engaged in religious practice, rather than promoting blind obedience, quietism, or complacency.

STONES ON DISPLAY IN JOSHUA 6: THE LINGUISTIC TREE CONSTRUCTOR AS A “PLOT” 1 TOOL NICOLAI WINTHER-NIELSEN

FJELLHAUG INTERNATIONAL UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, DENMARK The analogy of masonry can illustrate how natural stones of different sizes and shapes are joined together so as to form a new surface and structure, much in the same way as an author constructs a text. Just like it is necessary to perceive the overall design in order to understand an architectural masterpiece, no interpreter can understand the structure of a text without explaining how units are joined into a holistic pattern, shaping the intent and impact of that text. To succeed in this task, however, the interpreter requires appropriate tools, and this is also the case for the texts of the Hebrew Bible. So, we may ask, what tools can (ad)dress these architectural formations that are biblical texts? This is the issue raised by a new dissertation from the Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam by Marieke den Braber, Built from Many Stones (2010). In her study, den Braber demonstrates how any selection of data for the analysis of biblical texts will necessarily influence the methods used as 1 The following list presents the main abbreviations used in this article: 3ET = Ezer Emdros-based Exercise Tool (http://ezer.dk/3et/index.php?lang=en [accessed 12/28/2012]), LTC = Linguistic Tree Constructor (http://sourceforge.net/projects/ltc/); PLOT = Persuasive Learning Objects and Technologies (cf. EuroPLOT: www.eplot.eu); RST = Rhetorical Structure Theory; WIVU = Werkgroep Informatica at Vrije Universiteit (https://easy.dans.knaw.nl/ui/datasets/id/easy-dataset:48490 is currently the best link to the database according to Dirk Roorda, personal communication). Excerpts from WIVU reproduced in this article, including excerpts from WIVU in the open-source LTC, are used with permission. See below note 5.

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well as the expected results. More specifically, den Braber uses the account of Jericho’s conquest in Joshua 5–6 for a methodological investigation of two neglected exegetical approaches to the book of Joshua. The first approach is that of Graeme Auld, who has crowned 25 years of research on Joshua with a commentary on the Greek Vaticanus edition of the book (Auld 2005). The second approach is from the dissertation written by the author of this article, A Functional Discourse Grammar of Joshua (Winther-Nielsen 1995). Both contributions are treated by den Braber as examples of scholarly approaches to the text of Joshua that go against the grain of mainstream diachronic scholarship (Braber 2010:3), but which might be helpful when taken into account by diachronically oriented scholars. In her dissertation, den Braber uses the complete text edition of the Book of Joshua in Winther-Nielsen and Talstra (1995), and she asks to what extent this sort of display of the text can guide the exegete through the individual stones of the final construct of the Hebrew text. In the end, she concludes that such displays are “too complicated for easy access to the results” (den Braber 2010:222). Due to their complexity, interpreters so far have not used the displays, maybe not so much because of a “certain amount of ‘academic laziness’” (159), as den Braber suggests, but more likely because the text was not always presented in the simplest instructive way, which could give the interpreter easy access to the complex linguistic data of the Hebrew Bible. However, the situation has significantly changed in the past years, not least because of the various possibilities now offered by the digitalization of biblical texts. Therefore, the recent dissertation by den Braber provides an excellent opportunity for me to suggest the ways in which new digital solutions may improve on the printed edition we published more than 15 years ago. My contribution will revisit this aspect of my former dissertation (Winther-Nielsen 1995), and trace the potential of new technologies for analyzing biblical texts, as well as for developing methods and models for learning Biblical Hebrew. More specifically, I will be using the database developed by Eep Talstra and fellow members of the Werkgroep Informatica at the Vrije Universiteit (WIVU) in Amsterdam. Accordingly, I will first introduce the database and the tree constructor tool that I am going to use, and I will explain my use of the term “PLOT” and the theoretical framework that it implies. I will then discuss the WIVU displays of the Book of Joshua, and offer a “relational” interpretation of Josh 6:5. After a discussion of the problems related to the Rhetorical Structure Theory (RST), I will introduce the Connectivity Model proposed by Renkema (2009), a new helpful discourse-based model of relations in texts, and I will exemplify its merits in

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an analysis of Josh 6:15–20. I will suggest that the constructor tool, as it stands, can be taken as a first step toward the direction that educational technology could take in order to develop new tools for the analysis of biblical texts. In this sense, this paper is the seminal presentation for a new online site at 3BMoodle presenting projects on the construction of interpretations for learning languages.

1. THE “PLOT”: PERSUASIVE TECHNOLOGY FOR EMDROS The first stones that we will select in order to lay a foundation for a new construct will be the raw data of the WIVU database. Once we understand the structure of the data, we will be in a better position to understand how the database can operate as a resource for new instructional technology. The PLOT, short for “Persuasive Learning Objects and Technologies,” is inspired by a new theory called “persuasive technology” (Fogg 2003), which seeks to take into account the ways in which the computer can act in the role of a human persuader. The aim of this new theory is to understand how technology changes what we think about computers and how we use computers in various contexts to motivate users and to simplify their tasks. This theory about Human-Computer Interaction explains how information and communication technology can serve in various roles as a tool, simulation, and social actor. The theory seeks to optimize “persuasive” elements that enhance behavior change and motivational influence. The first step to apply this theory to corpus-driven, technology-enhanced learning took place at a mini-conference at Aalborg University held on March 30, 2009.2 The initial idea of the PLOT was to explore to what extent we could use a database with tools that were developed by Sandborg-Petersen (2008). In his dissertation, he analyzed the structure of the WIVU database for the Hebrew Bible and developed the “Emdros” database management system for storing and retrieving annotated text. 3 Sandborg-Petersen has applied Emdros for the corpus of the writings of the Danish poet, playwright, and vicar Kaj Munk. For this project, he also created a database manager, a browser, a website for collaborative annotation, and an algorithm for automated detection of quotations from other sources. We started exploring the potential of Emdros to support new applications for learning and research based on text corpora. 2 Except for Tøndering (2009) and Wilson (2009), the other papers given at this conference have not been published. 3 The dissertation by Sandborg-Petersen (2008) is an in-depth description of this system. Information and download are available at http://emdros.org (accessed 12/28/2012).

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For the period between November 2010 and October 2013, we are benefitting from a grant from the Europe Union Lifelong Learning Programme in order to further develop persuasive technology in the EuroPLOT project (www.eplot.eu). In this project, a tool called “PLOTLearner” is now being tested, at the stage of prototype, as we develop the technology into a corpus-driven learner-controlled tool which simplifies and motivates the training of skills for Hebrew language learning in a self-tutoring system. 4 In this discussion, I will provide an interpretation of the Hebrew lexeme ‫ ַרק‬raq in Josh 6:18a as a case in point. To this end, I will introduce the layout of the Emdros data (below, Table 1). In the particular Emdros database that we use in our project, the WIVU database, the category called “object” has a unique number which is called a monad (368869–75 in the following Table). An Emdros object can be a word, a sequence of monads such as a phrase or a clause, as illustrated in Table 1, but it can also be an archive, a collection of texts, a book, a chapter, a segment, a quotation, or any other unit requiring annotation for a corpus. Each object can have any number of defining features: for instance, a word may have a feature called “surface” which differs from the feature called “lexeme.” Also, monads can combine to one object with a new function as in our case where the three monads min ha=ḥērem group together to form the prepositional phrase. There are no limits to the annotations that researchers can attach to the different hierarchical objects created for the database, which range from the smallest morpheme to the highest level of the corpus.

4 See the information on the PLOTLearner site http://eplot. 3bmoodle.dk/ (accessed 12/28/2012) as well as the special seminar on Hebrew language learning at SBL International in London, published at http://www.youtube.com/user/nicolaiwn (accessed 12/28/2012).

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Table 1. EMdF-Model of Josh 6:18a from the WIVU Database 5

“Word” objects Monad Surface Part of speech Lexeme Transliteration Gloss

368869 368870 368871 368872 368873 368874 368875 ְ‫ו‬ ‫ַרק־‬ ‫ַא ֶתּם‬ ‫ִשׁ ְמ ֣רוּ‬ ‫ִמן‬ ‫ַה‬ ‫ֵ֔ח ֶרם‬ Conjun PronPreposAdverb Verb Article Noun ction oun ition ְ‫ו‬ ‫ַרק‬ ‫ַא ֶתּם‬ ‫שׁמר‬ ‫ִמן‬ ‫ַה‬ ‫ֵח ֶרם‬ wə=

And

raq

only?

ʔattem šimr-û

You

guard

ha=

min from

the

ḥērem

ban

Phrase objects Monad 368869 368870 368871 368872 368873–75 Phrase type CP AdvP PPrP VP PP

Clause objects Monad 368869–75 Clause type Impv

Using the WIVU Emdros database, Winther-Nielsen (2008, 2009) and Wilson (2009) worked within Role and Reference Grammar, as formulated by Van Valin (2005), and applied this grammar to their Role-Lexical Module for parsing, lexicon building, and representation. 6 This project shows how we could exploit the database in a web application for displaying Hebrew in the linguistic format as illustrated in example (1) below. 7 Skovenborg (2011) 192F

193F

All excerpts from the WIVU database in this article are used with permission from Eep Talstra, Director of the Werkgroep Informatica, and the German Bible Society. This also applies to excerpts from WIVU used in the open-source LTC which are reproduced in this article. 6 I coordinated this project with Chris Wilson as designer and programmer between 2005 and 2009. The text of Genesis 1–3 is available for online inspection at http://lex.qwirx.com/lex/clause.jsp (accessed 12/28/2012). Den Braber (2010:13 n. 3) refers to this new work, but does not discuss it. 7 The standard conventions for grammatical terms in these glossing displays are CLM = clause linkage marker, ADV = adverb, PRON = Pronoun, IMP = Imperative, Qa = Qal, the most frequent Hebrew stem form, M = masculine, pl = plural, CLT = Clitic, P = Preposition, ART = definite article, u = unknown, sg = 5

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has recently proposed a new design for a learner-centered use of a curriculum with a top-down approach to the text which displays the Role and Reference Grammar and the text interpretation, but there is currently no funding for the implementation of this particular system. Meanwhile, and as a result of constructing the Role-Lexical Module, the database was used at the core of a self-tutoring technology called 3ET, short for the Ezer’s Emdros-based Exercise Tool (Tøndering 2009), following the proposal in Winther-Nielsen (2009:14, 49). This tool was developed in order to help learners improve their morphological skills of Biblical Hebrew by means of persuasive exercise technology (Winther-Nielsen 2011). It is this tool that we are now redesigning as the PLOTLearner tool, using the WIVU Emdros database for Biblical Hebrew language learning in the EuroPLOT EU project. (1)

Display of Josh 6:18 in the Role-Lexical Module

The basic linguistic data of the WIVU database was from 2003 and was marketed by the Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft in a commercial software product known as the Stuttgart Electronic Study Bible, or SESB singular, AB = Absolute, the final, unmodified form of the noun in Hebrew. In the Role-Lexical Module we used the King James translation, because it was one of the free digital versions without copyright (for details see Winther-Nielsen 2009:19).

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(Hardmeier, Talstra, and Salzmann 2009), but as of 2012 it is only available as a new software bundle for Logos 5.8 Because it is a Logos resource, it is integrated with thousands of high-quality digital resources for scholars and serious learners. From both personal experience and feedback from students, I can confirm that the former SESB 3.0 served as a very useful tool for teaching and learning. Students reacted well to the high academic standards of the information and to the user-friendly interface, but some complained about the high cost of the software when compared to other Logos resources. Fortunately, however, for schools in the Majority World there are multiple user-friendly solutions available for computer labs, and for countries with a low average gross domestic product (GDP) per capita, the German Bible Society is setting a commendable example by donating software. 9 Unfortunately, the Logos software architecture does not allow for the adaptation of data to new learning tasks in the program interface. Morphological tags and syntactic trees cannot be changed according to personal preferences. In this regard, Logos 5 is no different from other Bible software programs that are built on the concept of Just-press-thisbutton-and-get-THE-solution. However, we believe that adaptability could enhance constructive and interactive learning, and should be offered by learner-controlled software. This problem is pointed out in the conclusion of a major review of information systems for the Hebrew Bible: Systems that integrate the results of divergent computational linguistic projects in Biblical Hebrew could promote the use of electronic data and analyses, providing a solution for the under-utilization of existing tools. New developments that tend to make use of more flexible functionalities and user-friendly visualizations may facilitate the creation and use of advanced Biblical Hebrew information systems in the next decade (Kroeze, Matthee and Bothma forthcoming).

Therefore, developers and users of new tools need to address the objection of den Braber and others who suggest that the data should be displayed in a 8 See the German Bible Society Bundle (= http://www.logos. com/product/18617/german-bible-society-bundle [accessed 12/28/2012]) and Logos Bible Software (www.logos.com). 9 The funding would be arranged through the scholarly Editions Grant by contact to Ilona Raiser (so Markus Hartmann, private com-munication). For GDP, see also: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_countries_by_future_GDP_%28PPP%29_p er_capita_estimates.

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more useful fashion for biblical interpreters. Unfortunately, however, the development of digital resources for academic biblical studies is costly, and new technology can only be developed by individual researchers working without payment or by funded academic projects like the Werkgroep Informatica. Successful businesses like Logos Bible Software are an exception to the rule, but even they can rarely finance large-scale scientific research projects. With decreasing access to multi-million dollar funding, new technology can therefore often only be developed by dedicated, selfsupported developers who produce digital resources under an open source license. The PLOT therefore depends heavily on open source development. The WIVU database of Biblical Hebrew supports research cooperation for the creation of more effective theory, tools, and training. This database is already available commercially in Logos, and new digital applications could enhance the use of this database as support for learning and interpretation. The EuroPLOT project is designed to contribute to a wider usage of Emdros. On this foundation stone for theory and design of persuasive technology, I will now lay the next stone, which is the adaptation of a tool for text construction.

2. THE TOOL: THE LINGUISTIC TREE CONSTRUCTOR By using stone imagery in the previous section, I have already emphasized the multifaceted nature of text. The cornerstone of my argument rests on the fact that elements of texts can be compared with “stones” requiring new tools that can be manipulated through technology, replacing the static display of printed text, as targeted in the critique of den Braber. I am now going to introduce a new tool that will help the interpreter shape the structure of the stones of the Hebrew Bible and rearrange the surface structure.

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Fig. 1. Josh 6:18a displayed with WIVU tags in the LTC In order to make a quick start, I will use and adapt an existing program which I believe enhances learning from Logos with the WIVU database. The Linguistic Tree Constructor (LTC) commends itself for this purpose as a free, flexible, and functional tool to retrieve word, phrase, clause, and sentence from the WIVU database in the format illustrated in Figure 1.10 For our database example from Josh 6 in Table 1, the tool can display the linguistic data for the learner who can expand or collapse the nodes and inspect the text at the appropriate level of sentence, clause, phrase, or word. For the first Hebrew lexeme ‫ ו‬in this figure, the user of the LTC can see the Hebrew form in the first line and in the second line the Hebrew Bible reference “Joshua 6:18.” Below is a third line which specifies that the lexical category of the lexeme ‫ ו‬is “conjunction” and “CP” is used in the WIVU database as a label for a conjunctional phrase. The fourth line displays the form of the lemma, or dictionary word, which in this case is identical with the text form. At the bottom of the screen, the user can choose which of these lines he or she wants to display. Furthermore, the program has a feature called “Open horizontal tree,” which displays any node or sentence 196F

10 The Linguistic Tree Constructor (LTC) is an open source program which can be downloaded at www.ltc.sourceforge.net. The texts discussed and illustrated in the displays can be downloaded as data files from 3BMoodle (http://3bmoodle.dk/) on the language project platform Connectivity Model Resources - Guest Access (=http://3bmoodle.dk/course/view.php?id=9 [accessed 12/28/2012]).

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as a tree with constituent projection as illustrated in Figure 2. This kind of display is similar to a conventional linguistic tree drawing. The constructor program can also display complex sentences, and thus larger segments of texts. This supports the ability to engage with the text through the interactive interface, zooming in and out of the nodes (cf. Winther-Nielsen 2009:6–7).

Fig. 2. Josh 6:18a displayed as horizontal tree with WIVU tags in the LTC As already illustrated in Figure 1, the LTC program can show a sidebar for labeling texts with grammatical and rhetorical terms. A text can be analyzed with these labels, and the text can then be exported to other users of the LTC in order to allow the user to share his preferred interpretation with instructors or fellow learners. Furthermore, and crucial for the solution proposed here, the user can customize the labels in the sidebar and adapt them to his or her preferred model of interpretation, discourse analysis, or poetics. 11 Other interested users can download the customized interface, explore it, and improve the labels. In a learning process, the learner uses the tree construction program to import its linguistic information from the database, giving him or her access to the text in the same constituent projection as the one available as a Logos resource. Instructors or learners In 2010, Daniel Lundsgaard Skovenborg developed a forked version of the LTC displaying the relations suggested in this paper as tips. On November 1 2011, Ulrik Sandborg-Petersen released LTC 3.1.0 with this tool tips function and this author’s definition of relations in the Connectivity Model (cf. https://sourceforge.net/p/ltc/news/2011/10/linguistic-tree-constructor-310released [accessed 12/28/2012]). Also, this version included the interclausal node type “Relation” (“R”). 11

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can import a file with the text information from the WIVU database and then inspect existing interpretations, and subsequently edit them or create their own brand new interpretation. 12 Another option is to use a feature available in the Role-Lexical Module allowing one to export clauses with glossing and then use the Hebrew or glossed text for instructional purposes in the LTC (Winther-Nielsen 2009:39–41), or in the RRGBuilder (Skovenborg 2011). This flexible and creative interaction with the text is an example of the kind of tools that we had in mind when we proposed persuasive technology as PLOT exemplars for learning and teaching. Persuasive Technology was originally formulated as a broad framework to employ technology under the three functional aspects of tool, medium, and social actor (see Fogg 2003:32). The tree constructor is a tool to simplify the task of interpretation, but some features are similar to how a medium can simulate the cause-and-effect when the interpreter proposes a certain interpretation, helping him or her to visualize his or her understanding and improve his or her analytic skills. The LTC as a social actor also offers the possibility for peers, coaches, and fellow learners to exchange interpretations in an open learning environment, but this aspect of the tool is not prominent. Above all, it is a tool motivating the student to engage in deep learning by rearranging the “stones” to illustrate the construction of a new interpretation of the text. With this background, the LTC may help us experiment with the ways in which PLOT technology can enable and motivate textual analysis, interpretation, and sharing. Interpretation will be more effective with an interactive and adaptable tool like the LTC, because it can be customized to solve particular technological tasks that enhance the interpretive faculty of learners, while also supporting instructors. When the interpretative task is simplified, it enhances the motivational attitude of learners and removes the cumbersome cut-and-paste task of reproducing a text, hand-coding, and sharing it with teachers or fellow learners. The core idea of this proposal is that data that are commercially available for Logos can be reused and repurposed in an open educational resource tool for text analysis. To sum up, I have introduced this LTC tool to display the WIVU database and draw syntax trees. I have also argued that it is a simple exemplar of a tool with some PLOT qualities as well as limited simulation 12 The Bible software company 3BM (http://3bmoodle.dk/) funded Ulrik Sandborg-Petersen to develop an extraction program to export from the WIVU database to .ltxc-files which can be loaded into LTC. 3BM has permission from Eep Talstra and the German Bible Society to use the Amsterdam database for restricted text selections.

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features and support for interaction. LTC will enable a user to interact with the WIVU database, any other imported database, or data built from scratch, and it will encourage the learner to construe creative interpretations and simulate trial and error experimentation in text analysis.

3. THE RST: A CONSTRUCTOR OF RHETORICAL STRUCTURE ANALYSIS Having so far explained the structure of the WIVU database and the LTC in relation with persuasive technology, we can now apply it to the theory and practice of interpretation. In terms of our stone imagery, the main issue is how to decode the structure that was applied when the stones were laid, and how we can display them through educational technology. In other words, the issue is whether the new tools available to us can overcome the problems of a printed edition which, as pointed out by den Braber, “will not be frequently consulted by occasional readers of Joshua” (den Braber 2010:68). The case in point is the new condensed displays used for the Book of Joshua. My dissertation (Winther-Nielsen 1995) discussed the full text of Joshua 2 at length. For the rest of the Book of Joshua, the dissertation only quoted selected texts, but Winther-Nielsen and Talstra (1995) published the complete analysis in a companion volume. Each individual clause unit was associated with columns incorporating several levels of discourse-pragmatic analysis. One column presented the Amsterdam database codes for syntactic clause linkage, specifying the coreference between verbs and conjunctions in clauses which were related as pairs. An adjoining annotated column contained grammatical and interpretive labels.13 For this interpretive column, den Braber (2010) discusses the exegetical relevance of the Rhetorical Structure Theory (RST) which was proposed by prominent linguists in the latter part of the 1980s (Mann and Thompson 1987; Mann, Matthiessen and Thompson 1992). The RST theory is a pragmatic approach to discourse structure, offering a valuable and realistic explanation of how writers and readers construe texts to communicate (Winther-Nielsen 1995:20). Computer specialists also wanted to explore discourse connectivity in texts beyond morpho-syntactic and propositional semantic analysis (Winther-Nielsen 1995:31). Later versions 13 The column used Role and Reference Grammar (RRG) labels to interpret the syntactic linking, and Rhetorical Structure Analysis (RST) labels to explain interclausal relations beyond the level of grammatical linkage of clauses. Other labels covered discourse analysis, but labels for narrative analysis like setting, episode, and climax were not used.

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of the RST theory are discussed in Toboada and Mann (2006) and in the textbook of Taboada (2009). Recently, studies have focused on the role of implicit marking of coherence (Taboada 2004; 2009) and on formulating a new cognitive framework (Sanders and Spooren 2009). Originally, a number of 25 RST relations were applied in the complete analysis of the Book of Joshua in Winther-Nielsen and Talstra (1995). In later studies of rhetorical structure, the number of relations has ranged from only two to a total of some 400 relations (Renkema 2009:114). Mann and Taboada (2007) give online access to vast material on 187 relations. Only a few Hebrew Bible scholars have used the RST-theory since Winther-Nielsen (1995, 2005). However, an excellent recent study by Lyavdansky (2010) uses the RST framework to explain the difference between a temporal adverbial use and a “discursive” textual use of the ‫וְ ַﬠ ָ֗תּה‬ wᵊ=ʕattāʰ, “and now,” in Biblical Hebrew, Egyptian Aramaic and Old Babylonian. Lyavdansky takes the RST framework as point of departure for his discussion of comparative linguistic data. Den Braber (2010:63) questions whether displays with columns for RST interpretation as elaborate as those published by Winther-Nielsen and Talstra (1995) for Joshua are really necessary for the synchronic reading.14 Part of the problem is the complexity of the displays, since they combine and condense two kinds of approaches into one. In Winther-Nielsen and Talstra (1995:17–21), the phrase structure analysis practiced by Talstra and his team and encoded in the WIVU database was listed in one column, and an adjoining column listed the functional interpretation of relations by this author. Thus, it was possible to compare the structural description stored in the database with a reader-oriented interpretation which uses RST-relations in order to explain connections in the texts regardless of genre and scope. This approach made it possible to explore the structure and function of the text beyond the more syntactic focus of Talstra, as carefully explained in the preface to the text edition (Winther-Nielsen and Talstra 1995:vi). These displays therefore offered a consistently database-independent proposal next to, and com-plementary with, the computer-assisted description. As such, they provided a user-centered and independent interpretation of what this author believed the writer of Joshua intended to communicate to his readers in the text. 15 120F

120F

14 Due to the technical notations in the Amsterdam database, the display can be misunderstood, such as when den Braber (2010:177, 209) misinterpreted brackets used to mark appositional constituents as if this author used them for text-critical purposes. 15 This solution intended to “balance the inherently formal data obtained by computational procedures” (Winther-Nielsen 1995:26), and RST served as “an

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In passing, it should be noted that the main critique of den Braber is that these text displays leave out a text’s “diachronic progression” (68). However, to add both the full witness from the history of the textual transmission as well as all the emendations and interpretations of modern critical scholars would have made the displays even more complex and far beyond the task of displaying a simple reading of the extant text. This kind of historical-critical annotation would therefore present a challenge for textual display of still a different sort.

Fig. 3. The WIVU text of Josh 6:5 in the LTC, with RST relations and hierarchy Another problem raised by den Braber is how to convey a computerassisted interpretation of inter-clausal relations which can simultaneously display a representation of syntax, semantics, pragmatics, and discourse structure (Hardmeier 2003:15; Renkema 2009:87; Wardlaw 2010). It requires a strategy for analysis that, by definition, will not identify grammatical codes with rhetorical labels, but rather will keep the grammatical codes distinct from the RST and other functional labels, because this is the only way to avoid a simplified assumption of one-formto-one-function. 16 An additional issue is whether rhetorical relations really independent, user-oriented and descriptive basis for the analysis of clause combining and textual coherence” (88). 16 Contrast den Braber (2010:38), who objects to interpretations without grammatical marking (ibid.:173–4) and jumps from linguistics to rhetoric (ibid.:63), though she fortunately agrees that relations are helpful for synchronic labelling when they are assigned independently of syntax (ibid.:187).

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are “far more subjective than the analysis of the grammatical hierarchy and cannot be consistently deduced from the syntax,” as argued by den Braber (2010:186). In our approach, we will assume that the regularities of discourse-pragmatic features can be accounted for in part by the syntaxsemantics-pragmatics interface (Winther-Nielsen 1995: 101). We will furthermore introduce an alternative theory of relations in a given text that addresses the issue of the ambiguity in discourse, and seeks to offer an answer to this problem. However, as a first step toward a solution, we will explore how the interpreter can use the LTC to add RST labels for any structural unit in the text, including the levels beyond the sentence. In Figure 3 below, I will first illustrate how I reproduced the text-analysis of Josh 6:5 from WintherNielsen (1995:205) or Winther-Nielsen and Talstra (1995:38–9). 17 The point of providing this particular figure is not to argue in detail for the way the displays were set up in the dissertation, nor in any way to discuss how den Braber critically analyzes the displays produced for print in 1995. My goal is only to show to the users of the Joshua display that the displays could be reproduced for print with the use of the LTC. For this particular display, I removed all sentence nodes from the WIVU database, and then tagged all clauses with the labels suggested in 1995. I copied-and-pasted this analysis as a screen-shot into a word processing document, and then manually added a graphical representation. The most illustrative solution was to hand-code a connectivity graph similar to Renkema (2009:136–40), and to place this graphical representation of the text structure next to the labels of the text display at the left side. This experiment proved that a learner can load the WIVU text and tag it in LTC, and then manually indicate the relative scope and depth of the relations visually by arrows pointing to the clauses for which they serve as relations. An illustration of connections by arrows is arguably a graphically better visual solution than the computergenerated nodes used in the printed displays of the book of Joshua. Unfortunately, inserting arrows by hand-coding is only of limited interest, as long as we do not have a program which can insert them into displays of the text. The next step was to explore the full potential of the hierarchical labelling system of the tree constructor program. I used the customized labels to construe a complete rhetorical analysis for all relations above the syntactic level in Josh 6:5, as illustrated in Figure 4 below. In this analysis, I combined two adjacent clauses or segments by labelling the node as a 17 I have not used the RSTTool of Mick O’Donnell (http://www. wagsoft.com/RSTTool [accessed 12/28/2012]), because I wanted to explore the integration of the WIVU corpus with the LTC tool.

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relation with the label “R.” A relation consists in most cases of a main part and a modifying part, the nucleus and the satellite, and it is crucially the modifying member which determines the function of the relation (WintherNielsen 1995:88). I therefore opened this modifying node and inserted the RST relation name as a label on the satellite branch. In this way, I could indicate that any unlabeled “R” branch would be dominant in the structure of the text and modified by a rhetorical relation. Following the dissertation, the main text element in 6:2b–4 leads up to a Volitional Result relation (VRes) in 5a, describing how the Israelite groups are to circumvent the city in order to shout and ascend into it.

Fig. 4: RST analysis of Josh 6:5 in LTC The dissertation of den Braber (2010:177–8) discusses Josh 6:5 at some length. In her interpretation of rhetorical relations, she considers it problematic that the same form which is annotated as a WQtl form in the database has different relation labels in the two occurrences of 5d and 5e. However, this is really a point in favor of doing RST analysis, because relations help the learner to distinguish between multiple functions of a single grammatical form, as in this case when a WQtl form can have both a predictive and a hortatory function. Rhetorical analysis assists the interpreter in clarifying the conditions under which there are two different outcomes of the people’s shouting: the intended result of the collapse of the wall (5d) as against the intentional purpose for the people to act and ascend into the city (5e). As such, RST analysis helps the interpreter to label multifunctional grammatical items, and also to perceive similar cases elsewhere. This example has illustrated how a user of the LTC can have access to a morpho-syntactic display of phrase, clause, and sentence information. Moreover, it shows how the displays in Winther-Nielsen and Talstra (1995)

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can now be technologically implemented through an existing open source tool. The new solution automatically lists labels like WQtl (see v. 5a in Figure 4), which the user may know from his or her work with the WIVU database for the Logos Bible software. However, we have still not answered another objection of den Braber and others: Namely, why bother to display so much information in the first place? To what extent is it relevant for interpreting the text, and how useful can it be for researchers and learners? Addressing such issues will be the next stone to pick up along our path.

4. THE CONNECTIVITY MODEL: THE GRANULATION OF THE STONES To return to the stone imagery, we still need to look at how we can best use the tools for our work on the stones in order to optimize the display of surface structure. To this end, I am now going to explore the assumptions, layout, and practice in Renkema’s (2009) new “Connectivity Model,” as a potential contemporary framework to be implemented in the LTC. Renkema gives several good reasons why we need a newer and more adequate framework. For one, the old canonical version of RST defines all relations as interpersonal (Renkema 2009:95–6), and intention is specified in the definition of every relation (ibid.:106); however, such information is not always accessible or even relevant. Another more serious point is that the RST relations were cognitively defined, but “[t]he status of nucleus and satellite can better be accounted for by looking at the discourse context” (ibid.:110). Finally, RST does not handle the degree of relative importance of segments well because it does not take nested and parenthetical information into account (ibid.:132). To solve these problems, Renkema proposes a new model with a well-structured taxonomy, which he designates as “Connectivity Model” (ibid.:114). He brings new precision to the stone imagery by viewing discourse as masonry rather than uniform bricks (ibid.:34). Discourse is made up by building segments of different sizes which come in two varieties (ibid.:20): adjunctive relations are about how stones of different material are linked in the wall, while Interjunction is about how stones project to form an artistic composition of the wall. The first type is the informative linking which must always be present in a text, but some linkings also serve an additional in-formational role by means of their interactional qualities (ibid.:60). 18 Adjunction links text units (“stones”) of relative size and nature (Renkema 2009:51), in contrast to Interjunction which is “the images that are outlined on the 18

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Table 2: General Structure of the “Connectivity Model” (Based on Renkema 2009)19 ADJUNCTION Family Category: Type Sub type 1 Specification ELAB Elaboration: 1 Quality 1.1 Object-Attribute 1. ELAB 2 Quantity 2 Part-Whole 2.1 Set-Member 2.2 Process-Step EXT Sequence: 1 Time Sequence 1 Time 1.1 Narration 2. SEQU 2 Interactional Pair 1.2 Continuation 3 List 1.3 Reverted Sequence 3. CONT Contrast 4. DISJ Disjunction ENH Place: 5. PLAC 1 Spot 2 Distance 6. TIME Time: 1 Absolute 4.1 Terminus ad quem 2 Relative 4.2 Terminus post quem 3 Simultaneous 4 Duration 5 Frequency 7. MANN Manner: 1.1 Instead 1 Circumstance 2.1 Analogy wall by the composition of the stones, in order to express something which has a certain impression on the person who looks at the wall” (ibid.:60). 19 See the overview in Renkema (2009:65–6), which is also available for download at http://www.benjamins.com/jbp/series/Z/151/study-aid.pdf (accessed 12/28/2012). The abbreviations used in the table and in the text are ACCP = Acceptance; ACTN = Action; ATTN = Attention; CAUS = Cause; COMM = Commentary; CONT = Contrast; DISJ = Disjunction; ELAB = ELABORATION; ENH = ENHANCEMENT; EXPL = Explanation; EXPR = EXPRES-SING; EXT = EXTENSION; IMPR = IMPRESSING; MANN = Manner; META = Metatext; PRES = Presentational; PROC = PROCESSING; QUOT = Quote; SEQU = Sequence.

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8. CAUS

Causation: 1 Cause 2 Reason 3 Means 4 Condition 5 Concessive

INTERJUNCTION Family Category: Type EXPR Presentation: 9. PRES 1 Solutionhood [2 Instruction] 10. COMM Comment: 1 Interpretation 2 Evaluation 3 Conclusion PROC Explanation: 11. EXPL 1 Background 2 Clarification 12. META Metatext: 1 Restatement 2 Organizer

13. QUOT

3 Summary Quote (Attribute): 1 Source 2 Thought Incorporation

2.2 Proportion 2.3 Degree 2.31 Degree Indicating Cause 3.1 Exception

4.1 Negative Condition 4.1.1 Otherwise

Sub type

1.1 Generalization

2.1 Exemplification 2.2 Illustration 1.1 Correction 1.2 Definition 2.1 Advanced Organizer 2.2 Heading 2.3 Orientation 2.3 Digression Indicator

1.1 Indirect Citation 1.2 Anonymous 1.3 General Source

469

470 IMPR 14. ATTN 15. ACCP

16. ACTN

NICOLAI WINTHER-NIELSEN Attention 1 Climax 2 Antithesis Acceptance 1 Evidence 2 Justification Action 1 Enablement 2 Motivation

The general structure of the Connectivity Model is set out in Table 2. In this model, the two main levels of Adjunction and Interjunction are subdivided into increasingly finer granulated relations of six families, 16 main categories, and more specialized types and sub types. The families constitute three functions for each of the two levels and they are conceptually major distinctions within the informational segments or intentional interaction. The 16 categories, on the other hand, are the finergrained distinctions that the analyst will often need in order to label the text with a specific interpretation. In our implementation of the Connectivity Model, we propose to use four letter abbreviations in capital letters because of the difficulty involved in handling long names inserted as labels in the text display. Only the names for types and sub types are given in full because it will be difficult to remember a large number of abbreviations. The informational level of Adjunction has the ELABORATION family (ELAB) as a single broad group of functions within the general category of Elaboration (ELAB), linking a segment into a concept which is expressed in the preceding segment. The second family of EXTENSION (EXTN) is a link which adds a new event to the preceding segment and thus extends this segment with a new predication. It is divided into categories for (2) Sequence (SEQU), (3) Contrast (CONT) and (4) Disjunction (DISJ). The final adjunction family ENHANCEMENT (ENHN) has the four members of (5) Place (PLAC), (6) Time (TIME), (7) Manner (MANN), and (8) Cause (CAUS). Enhancements all frame an event structure with new setting information. The Interjunction level is often built from Adjunction categories, but their hallmark is that they serve an interactional function. The first family of EXPRESSING (EXPR) conveys the intention of the writer through the categories (9) Presentation (PRES) or (10) Comment (COMM). The second interactional family of PROCESSING (PROC) is meant to guide the reader or listener through the communication in the text which is processed in

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relation to the three categories of (11) Explanation (EXPL), (12) Metatext (META), and (13) Quotation (QUOT). The third and final family is EXPRESSING (EXPR), aiming specifically to influence the addressee through the three categories of either (14) Attention (ATTN), (15) Acceptance (ACCP) or (16) Action (ACTN). Renkema offers his taxonomy as a “starting point” to illustrate “the overwhelming variety of possibilities in discourse continuation” (2009:99), but the Connectivity model has the advantage of a clear architecture and straightforward criteria (comp. ibid.:117, 121). Renkema assumes that there will be ambiguity in texts, because “different categories and types can simultaneously play a role in interpreting a segment combination” (2009:78), but he proposes procedures for disambiguation of multiple interpretations (ibid.:150–62). The two relational levels of Adjunction and Interjunction are tied into a basic line of textual connectivity which is called the Conjunction level. Relations are formed by segments of different shapes and forms according to three different criteria. The first is about what stone is cemented to which one, and at which part; this corresponds to the “Location” of the relation. The second is the relative size and sequence of the stones, which is called the “Ordination.” The third is the different kinds of mortar, which is the “Combination.” An interesting feature of Renkema’s proposal is that he also uses the stone imagery to explain the textual features at this third level: referential cohesion is like pin-hole or screw connections, relational coherence like mortar, and an additional unmarked type is like stapling (2009:29). Even if relations are by nature formulated independently of any particular grammar, Renkema claims that “the Connectivity Model is the only model that is based so heavily on a broad range of grammatically and semantically based discourse phenomena” (93). In our view, it would not be difficult to tie the Role and Reference Grammar of Van Valin (2005) and Winther-Nielsen (2008; 2009) into the Conjunction level with its anchoring point, direction of flow and kind of linkage (Renkema 2009:24–34). The Connectivity Model includes Elaboration, Extension, and Enhancement in much the same way as Systemic Functional Grammar. For Biblical Hebrew, it would therefore be possible to compare this approach with Bandstra’s (2008:23–6) Systemic Functional Grammar analyses of Genesis 1–11. In addition, we expect that the Connectivity Model may help us in avoiding an artificial distinction between textual, experiential, and interpersonal levels (Renkema 2009:88). Finally, as a case for the use of the Linguistic Tree Constructor, Daniel Lundsgaard Skovenborg developed a function with tool tips, and this function has now been implemented by Ulrik Sandborg-Petersen in his

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release of LTC 3.1 (November 1, 2011). 20 The following is a list of the most general relations, as defined in the tool tips from the Connectivity Model: Table 3: The Six Families as Defined in Tool Tips. ELABORATION adds information for CONCEPT from encyclopaedic knowledge (constituent~ argument focus?) – First family of Adjunction EXTENSION supplements the information on EVENT (core level proposition~predicate focus) – Second family of Adjunction ENHANCEMENT expands the information in FRAME (periphery adjunct~sentence focus) – Third family of Adjunction (in ADJUNCTION) EXPRESSING of addresser influence: Speaker-originating personal communication of intention – First family of Interjunction PROCESSING in the structure of discourse: Texture-based structural packaging for cognitive processing – Second family of Interjunction IMPRESSING for the addressee persuasion: Hearer-targeted attempt to change attitude or action – Third family of Interjunction

I have slightly revised these definitions to tailor them to a theory of functional grammar, even though this is not the intention of Renkema. In this way, the taxonomy can form a bridge between annotations on the output of linguistic parsing and representation from a database and literary and philological interpretations. 21 The list also illustrates the granularity in the system. The interpreter can work on this general level when constructing his or her interpretation of the text, or s/he can choose the finer-grained relational distinctions which are more revealing, and they will

20 For more details on the history of the development of the LTC 3.1 with Renkema’s labels see http://3bmoodle.dk/mod/page/view.php?id=55 (login “som gæst”/as guest [accessed 12/28/2012]). 21 We offer this suggestion for the project “Data and Tradition. The Hebrew Bible as a linguistic corpus and as a literary composition” (http://www.poac.nl/projecten.nsf/pages/2300159387_Eng [accessed 12/28/2012]). The PLOT framework is relevant, as “the PC3 tries to put the bridge into use” and applies them “into systems of retrieval and presentation.”

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be illustrated in the following interpretation of Joshua 6:15–20 which exemplifies this approach. In conclusion, the Connectivity Model appears to be a viable contemporary framework for analysis of discourse relations. The model appears to be an improvement over the canonical RST model because it has a more satisfactory information architecture in its hierarchical theory of text, supporting granularity in the analysis of level, family, category, and type. Relations are defined in terms of concepts and events as well as in terms of interpersonal relationships.

5. JOSHUA 6:15–20: CONSTRUCTING DISCOURSE RELATIONS My final move in response to Built From Many Stones by den Braber

(2010) is to give an interpretation of Joshua 6:15a–20b in order to show how the LTC can use the Connectivity Model. In this analysis, I will not link relations at the clause level (Renkema 2009:8), nor will I link relations for every non-embedded clause (Winther-Nielsen 1995:62). Instead, I will display sentences as they are imported from the WIVU database, and evaluate in the course of this process the pros and cons of that database. In contrast to Renkema, I will consistently mark a relation on the dependent or the parallel modifying branch. The following list quotes the tool tips for the relations that will be discussed in the interpretation: Table 4: Sorted List of Tool Tips of Categories and Types Used in the Analysis. Absolute is a specific dating (type < category Time) Acceptance (ACCP) convinces the hearer by argument to increase belief (15th category < family IMPRESSING) Action (ACTN) motivates the hearer to do something despite the lack of ability or of specific trigger to perform action (16th category < family IMPRESSING) Advance Organizer: Heading is a preview of the content (subtype < type Organizer < category Metatext) Background improves understanding by known content (type < category Explanation) Causation (CAUS) is all subtypes of P implies Q (8th category < family ENHANCEMENT)

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NICOLAI WINTHER-NIELSEN Cause is force without will and cannot be prevented, it is the source of an effect (~why etc.) (type < category Causation) Circumstance covers all sorts of non-temporal, non-locational, and noncausational adverbial manners (type < category Manner) Citation is the source for reported dialogue or printed matter (type < category Quote) Clarification improves understanding by new content (type < category Explanation) Climax focuses on the last part in list (type < category Attention) Comment (COMM) expresses the speaker’s own thinking about a topic (10th category < family EXPRESSION) Conclusion is a final, closing subjective reasoning after a set of arguments or observations (type < category Comment) Elaboration (ELAB) expands quality or quantity of nominal constituent, e.g. aspects, details, features or properties (1st category < family ELABORATION) Evidence is objective support for a statement or to increase belief in a claim (type < category Acceptance) Exception is always a quantitative part-whole restriction between two states of affairs, not a contrast for concepts (subtype < type Restriction < category Manner) Explanation (EXPL) facilitates the content in order to improve understanding (11th category < family PRCOCESSING) Manner (MANN) is pace, speed, and similar adverbial mode that is not place, time, and cause (~how etc.) (7th category < family ENHANCEMENT) Metatext (META) guides how the wording of the message is understood (~how) (12th category < family PROCESSING)

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Motivation triggers the desire to perform an action (type < category Action) Narration is the time sequence in story or report (subtype < type Time Sequence < category Sequence) Process-Step, e.g. do – do x (subtype < subtype Part-Whole < category Elaboration) Quote (QUOT) is an attribution of the source of the message (~who) (13th category < family PROCESSING) Sequence (SEQU) adds a state of affair as new event (~and etc.) (2nd category < family EXTENSION) Simultaneous marks a second event occurring at the same time (type < category Time) Time (TIME) is a temporal adverbial expansion of a constituent (~when etc.) (6th category < family ENHANCEMENT)

The full interpretation of the text is displayed in Figures 5A and B. The Sequence (SEQU: v. 20a) after the Quote (QUOT: v. 16c) is the most important relation in the text, but there is another dominant Sequence relation (SEQU: v. 16b) within the first part of the narrative segment in 6:15a–16c. The reader can follow the most central sentence in the entire text through the nuclear R sentences which are not modifying branches, and thus trace the central element all the way down to the unmodified terminal branch (S: v. 15c). This sentence is the foundation stone of the text which narrates that the Israelites walked around the city seven times on the seventh day. The next most important corner stone in the structure of the text is the account of the trumpeting of the priests at the seventh round in the Sequence sentence (SEQU: v. 16b). Dramatically, two more corner stones are added to the structure. The first is the Quote with the Citation of Joshua’s order for the people to shout (S: v. 16d). Right away follows the immediate execution of this order in a Sequence (SEQU: v. 20a). For the sake of coherence, the writer has added a modifying Elaboration (ELAB: v. 20b). The elaborative nature of this sentence is marked by its repetition of the reference to the process of continued trumpeting and by a pronominal reference to the activated noun phrase, the priests (S: v. 16b). A new text segment will often open with temporal and other circumstantial information. In this narrative, the nuclear

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branch (S: v. 15c) is preceded by an Absolute dating in (Time: v. 15a) because we are approaching the climax of shouting followed by the miraculous collapse of the walls. Functional grammarians would probably analyze this “Sentence” differently, as a discourse marker wayəhî followed by a prepositional phrase, i.e., “and then, on the seventh day, they…” The following sentence is a description of the people getting up early in the morning, and therefore corresponds to a Circumstance which, in a preparatory Manner, explains what is occurring prior to the real action of walking around the city this day (MANN: v. 15a). Arising in the morning is temporal adverbial setting information. These relations are all informative Adjunctions.

Fig. 5A. Josh 6:15–16c.20a–b Narration, from the LTC

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Fig. 5B. Josh 6:16c–19 Quote, from the LTC

With this background, we can explain the embedded Citation (6:16–19). We will expect to find Interjunctions addressing both the listeners and the readers of the story. The central nuclear element is the command to shout (S: v. 16d). It is followed by a clause that could be interpreted as a Cause, but we suggest that the clause is intended to impress the listeners, forcing

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them to an Acceptance of the order (ACCP: v. 16e). If this pragmatic function is granted, the writer is promising the listeners future objective Evidence to assure them that they will conquer the city. The next sentence is even more difficult to interpret. The least controversial interpretation is perhaps that the process of communication is an Explanation for the listeners (EXPL: v. 17a). If so, this sentence is predictive information. However, if the sentence impresses a future action on the listeners, the clause would have a directive speech function and serve as a Motivation relation, despite the total absence of grammatical features for a second person address. It is now possible to investigate relations marked by the particle ‫ַרק‬ raq “only” in Josh 6:15–20. In Winther-Nielsen (1995:208), raq is interpreted as a focus-particle with the restrictive force only on this day (v. 15d). It then refers to seven rounds on the seventh day instead of once only on the previous days. The same force is claimed for raq in only Rahab (v. 17c), because the group of survivors are now restricted to Rahab and her family. Den Braber (2010:181) objects to the use of the RST relation name Concession in both cases. However, these labels can be defended by canonical RST definitions. Both clauses express an incompatibility about only going around the city once a day, and about killing everyone. If the reader accepts that there are restrictions for the seventh day and for the killing of Rahab and her family, both relations fulfill the intention of the writer to remove an incompatibility in the interpretation. The first case is straightforward within an analysis based on the Connectivity Model because a Manner Relation is added in order to explain the Exception for the seventh day (MANN: v. 15d). This could also be argued for the second instance, and Rahab is then mentioned with Restrictive Focus. However, because the text is now expressed as an Interjunction, it can be argued that Joshua in his interaction with the people is expressing an important Comment just as in his final Conclusion (COMM: v. 17b). This ambiguity in interpretation is resolved by the Connectivity Model by assuming that an interpersonal address always supersedes Adjunction. Accordingly, the function is to address the Israelites and make sure that they spare Rahab and her family. The third and final case of raq in (v. 18a), presented in Example 1 above, is much more difficult. The restrictive focus interpretation is in agreement with van der Merwe et al. (1999:314), who define the force of the particle as limiting something in relation to the preceding. They suggest a second function as a modal word referring to a speaker’s understanding of the utterance (ibid.:309), and in this case raq expresses “conviction as to the correctness of an observation” (ibid.:311). The display of the book of

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Joshua used the label Evaluation (Eval) for this occurrence, but how can this be argued? First we need to observe that this wə=raq in Example 1 is used in front of the second plural person pronoun ʔattem, fronted for focus. The imperative form of the verb šimr-û combined with the preposition min has the sense of “keep yourselves (away) from.” However, the connective wə=raq does not seem to be used in the same way as the preceding instances of raq without the Clause Linkage Marker wə=, because it shifts to a new address, and the restrictive force on ʔattem seems implausible in the discourse context. The story at this point is not at all about any kind of exception or restriction for an argument as in the preceding two cases of the focus particle, because now the point is that everyone in Israel, without restriction, must refrain from looting the ḥērem lest they receive death, and they all must dedicate spoils to the treasury at the shrine of Yahweh. Some translations apparently sense a special meaning for raq, as in the case of the rendering “As for you” offered by the New Revised Standard Version, which would mean that the fronting was used as a Left-Detached Position. It appears that raq sometimes introduces hortatory segments which focus on tasks to be performed first and foremost (e.g., Deut 4:9; Josh 1:7, 18, 13:6). 22 How often the 108 occurrences of raq have this non-restrictive discourse function is not my point, but rather that its precise interpretation arguably can only be decided on the basis of a careful investigation of discourse relations. In terms of the Connectivity Model, this interpretation would be labeled as a Motivation for Action (ACTN: v. 18a). Hence we can formulate as our working hypothesis that when the particle raq is used within a direct address, it may have the force of a Motivation and it can be classified as a discourse marker rather than a focus particle. To sum up, this case shows how the constructor tool is useful for a linguistic interpretation that takes discourse relations into account. A text Alexey Lyavdansky has very kindly pointed out to me (private communication) that “the clause after raq looks like an emphatic restatement of the previous order ‘the city shall be devoted.’ The example of Josh 1:7 supports it: Josh 1:6, ‘be strong and stand firm,’ in 1:7 there is an emphasized restatement of the same injunction.” The strength of the Connectivity Theory is that it can analyze this clause first within the three families of Adjunction, and more precisely the Elaboration category. But then, in addition to this, the theory offers one of the Interjunction family relations as an option, e.g., a Processing function to clarify the text for the addressee, or an Impressing function to motivate the addressee to engage in action. In the Connectivity Model it is even permissible to choose both interpretations, if the interpreter believes the data warrant this solution. The ability to incorporate several possible interpretations is an advantage of this theory over the old RST framework. 22

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imported from the WIVU database enables the interpreter to interact with the data, and to explain them in a more satisfactory way than when merely resorting to a syntactic concordance resource for Logos. The LTC simplifies the construction of interpretations by reducing some of the tedious work of manual handling and display of data for discourse analysis. In my view, a tool supporting these basic skills for analysis of discourse relations, or for other analytic frameworks, is important to use in order to cultivate interpretative skills among learners.

6. CONCLUSIONS The point of departure for this stony path leading into the construct of a text was den Braber’s (2010) new discussion of rhetorical relations. I recommended a new and updated way to use the Emdros database and the corpus of the Hebrew Bible built by the Werkgroep Informatica at the Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam. In response to den Braber’s call to improve the modes of display for Biblical exegesis, I offered the linguistic constructor tool LTC as a useful technology. I illustrated how a scholar can manually produce the RST analyses in Winther-Nielsen (1995), but then argued that the new Connectivity Model proposed by Renkema (2009) has a better display of information architecture, and improves the definitions of relations through granulation and context. This was demonstrated in analyses of Josh 6:5, 15–20. This discussion has illustrated how an existing open source tool like the Linguistic Tree Constructor can display relations in texts. The constructor tool can manipulate texts for interpretative purposes and it supports the ability to exchange displays between fellow readers. Using an adaptable tool will allow researchers, teachers, and learners to construct interpretations from texts. Learners and their instructors can use this tool to include interpretative tasks into educational frameworks and digital technology for display that will be very useful both for online courses and for collaboration in networks. This discussion is offered as the seminal launch paper for other projects at Connectivity Model Resources - Guest Access (= http://3bmoodle.dk/course/view.php?id=9 [accessed 12/28/ 2012]) which explore how this new theory of connectivity in text can be used for computational linguistics and applied linguistics focusing on language learning. With this background, I believe that experimentation with the LTC can tell us something about what next generation persuasive learning technology should look like. To be sure, I do not claim that this tagging of the text is user-friendly, but it is the best open source solution available at the moment. Nor do I claim that the Connectivity Model is the only

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solution, because there are many other ways to tag a text for interpretation, but I do contend that this model is a very helpful improvement over RST, and that it answers some of the recent critique raised by den Braber. We are currently exploring how this tool may help researchers to make further progress in computer-assisted text display and what the requirements are on the development of new technology. One of the goals of the new EuroPLOT project is to build better technology for learning and interpretation from texts, and the LTC is a first step to help us experiment with new learning environments and persuasive engagement in the text for deep learning, enabling and motivating learners and their instructors to explore interactive simulation and creative construction.

REFERENCES

Auld, A. G. 2005. Joshua: Jesus Son of Naue in Codex Vaticanus. Leiden: Brill. Bandstra, B. L. 2008. Genesis 1–11: A Handbook on the Hebrew Text. Waco Texas: Baylor Press. Braber, M. E. J. den. 2010. Built from Many Stones: An Analysis of N. Winther-Nielsen and A. G. Auld on Joshua with Focus on Joshua 5:1– 6:26. Amsterdam: 2VM. Fogg, B. J. 2003. Persuasive Technology. Using Computers to Change What We Think and Do. San Francisco: Morgan Kaufman. Hardmeier, C. 2003. Textwelten der Bibel entdecken: Grundlagen und Verfahren einer textpragmatischen Literaturwissenschaft der Bibel. Vol 1. Gütersloher: Gütersloher Verlagshaus. Hardmeier, C., E. Talstra and B. Salzman. 2009. SESB: Stuttgart Electronic Study Bible 3.0. Stuttgart/Haarlem: the German and Dutch Bible Societies. Kroeze, J. H., M. C. Matthee and T. J. D. Bothma. Forthcoming. Computational Information Systems (Biblical Hebrew). In Encyclopedia of Hebrew Language and Linguistics, ed. Khan. Leiden: Brill. Lyavdansky, A. 2010. Temporal Deictic Adverbs as Discourse Markers in Hebrew, Aramaic and Akkadian. Journal of Language Relationship 3:22–42. Mann, W. C. and M. Taboada. 2007. RST Website (2007). (htpp://sfu.ca/rst).

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Mann, W. C., and S. A. Thompson. 1987. Rhetorical Structure Theory: A Theory of Text Organization. Marina del Ray: Information Sciences Institute. Mann, W. C., C. M. I. M. Matthiessen and S. A. Thompson. 1992. Rhetorical Structure Theory and Text Analysis. Pp. 39–78 in Discourse Description: Diverse Linguistic Analyses of a Fund-Raising Text, eds. Mann and Thompson. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Marshall, G, and M. J. Cox. 2008. Research Methods: Their Design, Applicability and Reliability. Pp. 983–1002 in International Handbook of Information Technology in Primary and Secondary Education, eds. Voogt and Knezek. Berlin/Heidelberg/New York: Springer Science and Business Media LLC. Merwe, C. H. J. van der, J. A. Naudé and J. H. Kroeze. 1999. A Biblical Hebrew Reference Grammar. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press. Renkema, J. 2009. The Texture of Discourse. Towards an Outline of Connectivity Theory. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Sandborg-Petersen, U. 2008. Annotated Text Databases in the Context of the Kaj Munk Archive: One Database Model, One Query Language, and Several Applications. PhD diss., Aalborg University (available at http://www.hum.aau.dk/~ulrikp/ PhD/ [accessed 12/28/2012]). Sanders, T. and W. Spooren. 2009. The Cognition of Discourse Coherence. Pp. 197–212 in Discourse, of Course: An Overview of Research in Discourse Studies, ed. Renkema. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Skovenborg, D. L. 2011. A New PLOT for Biblical Hebrew Learning. MA Thesis Aalborg University (available at http://waldeinburg.dk/upload/Skovenborg%20-%20A% 20new%20PLOT%20for%20Biblical%20Hebrew%20learning.pdf [accessed 12/28/2012]). Taboada, M. 2004. Building Coherence and Cohesion: Task-oriented dialogue in English and Spanish. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. —. 2009. Implicit and Explicit Coherence Relations. Pp. 127–40 in Discourse, of Course: An Overview of Research in Discourse Studies, ed. Renkema. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Taboada, M. and W. C. Mann. 2006. Rhetorical Structure Theory: Looking Back and Moving Ahead. Discourse Studies 8:423–59. Tøndering, C. 2009. 3ET – An Automatic Tool for Grammar Training. Technical Reports Hiphil 6:1–19 (http://www.see-

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j.net/index.php/hiphil/article/view/61 [accessed 12/28/ 2012]). Van Valin, R. 2005. Exploring the Syntax-Semantics Interface. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Wardlaw, T. R. 2010. The Priority of Synchronic Text-analysis: Cognitive Text Comprehension and Interpreting Deuteronomy 4:1–40. Hiphil 7:1–42 (http://hiphil.org/ index.php/hiphil/article/view/41 [accessed 12/28/ 2012]). Wilson, C. 2009. Lex: a Software Project for Linguists. Technical Reports 6:1–33 (http://hiphil.org/index.php/ Hiphil hiphil/article/view/ [accessed 12/28/2012]). Winther-Nielsen, N. 1995. A Functional Discourse Grammar of Joshua: A Computer-assisted Rhetorical Structure Analysis. Uppsala: Almquist and Wiksell. —. 2005. Towards the Peak of Mount Sinai: A Discourse-Pragmatic SEE-J Hiphil 2:1–19 Analysis of Exodus 19. (http://hiphil.org/index.php/hiphil/article/view/18 [accessed 12/28/2012]). —. 2008. A Role-Lexical Module (RLM) for Biblical Hebrew: A mapping tool for RRG and WordNet. Pp. 455–78 in Investigations of the Syntax-Semantics-Pragmatics Interface, ed. Van Valin, Jr. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. —. 2009. Biblical Hebrew Parsing on Display: The Role-Lexical Module (RLM) as a Tool for Role and Reference Grammar. SEE-J Hiphil 6:1– 51 (http://hiphil.org/index.php/ hiphil/article/view/43 [accessed 12/28/2012]). —. 2011. Persuasive Hebrew Exercises: The Wit of Technology-Enhanced Language Learning. Pp. 277–98 in Tradition and Innovation in Biblical Interpretation. Studies Presented to Professor Eep Talstra on the Occasion of his Sixty-Fifth Birthday, eds. van Peursen and Dyk. Leiden: Brill. Winther-Nielsen, N., C. Tøndering and C. Wilson. 2009. Transliteration of Biblical Hebrew for the Role-Lexical Module. Technical Reports 6:1–17 (http://hiphil.org/ Hiphil index.php/hiphil/article/view/46 [accessed 12/28/2012]) Winther-Nielsen, N. and E. Talstra. 1995. A Computational Display of Joshua; A Computer-assisted Analysis and Textual Interpretation. Amsterdam: VU University Press.

GOD AND THE SEA IN JOB 38 COLLIN R. CORNELL PRINCETON, NJ

The book of Job is about God’s relation to suffering and chaos. In any reading, the divine speeches play a crucial role in posing this vis-à-vis. After the dialogues in which Job has pled repeatedly to God for an audience (13:15, 20, 22; 31:35–37), God finally responds, beginning in chapter 38. The poetic addresses that follow brim with pictures of God’s actions towards the primordial, weird, and wild components of the cosmos. Carol Newsom has written that “the key interpretive question for understanding the significance of the divine speeches has to do with the nature of the relationship established in these images between God and the symbols of the chaotic.” 1 Scholarly interpretations of the divine speeches envision two overall possibilities for this relationship: God opposes chaos and claims victory over it, or God identifies with chaos as its designer and advocate. 2 This article explores one poetic stanza within the first divine speech: Job 38:8–11.3 Verses 8–11 play off the common biblical and ancient Near 1 Carol Newsom, Book of Job: a Contest of Moral Imaginations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003), 243. 2 Tryggve Mettinger, “The God of Job: Avenger, Tyrant, or Victor?” in Leo G. Perdue and W. Clark Gilpin (eds.), The Voice from the Whirlwind (Nashville: Abingdon, 1992), 39. Mettinger formulates the difference as between monistic and dualistic readings, i.e., between a God who includes both good and evil and a God who hypostatizes only the one and opposes the other. 3 The use of the poetic term “stanza” is not justified by graphic demarcation in manuscripts of Job 38, either the Aleppo or Leningrad Codices. However, most scholars agree that smaller, subordinate units are discernible within the larger whole of biblical poems on the basis of key words, distinct openings and closings, and other formulae. Cf. Wilfred G. Wilson, Classical Hebrew Poetry: A Guide to its Techniques (London: T&T Clark International, 2005 [orig. JSOT Press, 1984]), 160–168.

485

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Eastern trope of God’s cosmogonic battle with the Sea. 4 Consequently, the stanza occupies an important place in the initial divine speech because it is the first to collocate God and a symbol of chaos. As with the speeches at large, scholarly opinion is divided over whether this stanza frames God as the controlling antagonist or caring proponent of the Sea. I will argue that, in continuity with the preceding stanza (vv 4–7) showcasing God’s singular power, Job 38:8–11 primarily emphasizes God’s control over the Sea. However, vv 8–11 also subtly destabilize this theme by evoking God’s care for the Sea. The stanza begins to unsteady and reimagine God’s conventional opposition to the forces of chaos, anticipating the content of the following stanzas and the second divine speech.

SHUTTING IN THE SEA (V 8) Verse 8a highlights God’s power over and opposition to the Sea. This thesis counts the following features in its favor: a verb of constraint heads the line, the line loops thematically and grammatically into the preceding stanza about God’s unique power, and the line reverses Job’s call for chaos in chapter 3. 5 The verb �‫ וַ יָּ ֶס‬of 8a fronts the theme of God’s containment of the Sea: most translations render this verb as “cover” or “shut up.” The verb may derive from either of two Hebrew roots, which both occur in forms identical to that of 8a elsewhere in the Bible. On the one hand, �‫וַ יָּ ֶס‬ could be the qal waw-consecutive6 of ‫סכך‬, “to cover” or “overshadow,” as 123F

124F

E.g., Babylonian Enuma Elish, Ugaritic Baal and Yām, Pss 74, 89. This article will consistently use the term “line” to refer to the smallest poetic units within the poem. The Leningrad Codex separates the stanza’s verses by making a gap in the middle of its column but it gives no graphic recognition to linedivisions, wrapping verses around columnar ends indiscriminately. However, excepting the last verse of the stanza that puts ûpō yišbōt (textual emendation, see p 14; MT ‫“ )וּפֹא־ יָ ִשׂית‬here shall be stopped,” 38:11b) together with �‫יָּמי‬ ֶ ‫“( ֲה ִמ‬from your days,” 38:12a) on the line succeeding from ‫“( וְ לֹא ת ִֹסיף‬and no further,” 38:11a), the Aleppo Codex lineates 38:8–11 as in BHS, dividing each half–verse with the columnar gap. This graphemic evidence coincides with the syntactic divisions of 38:8–11, as shown, for example, by the nearly-consistent use of ‫ ו‬at the start of each half-verse, thereby justifying my use of “line” for these sentential groupings. Cf. F.W. Dobbs-Allsopp, “‘Verse, Properly So Called’: The Line in Biblical Poetry” (in preparation). 6 Terminologically, “waw-consecutive” is not wholly satisfactory, since this form does not always follow another verb sequentially. Some have opted recently to call it simply the “wayyiqtol form” (Seow) or the “consecutive preterite” (Hackett) instead of the more traditional (and misleading) “converted imperfect.” It is now 4 5

GOD AND THE SEA IN JOB 38

487

at Exod 40:21 (or cf. imperfect at Ps 91:4). The root ‫ סכך‬is related to the substantive �‫מ ָס‬, ָ a word meaning “screen” and used in the Priestly materials for the curtains in the tabernacle (Exod 27, 35). This verb also occurs in hiphil participle form in Judges 3:24 as a euphemism used by the servants of Eglon king of Moab to describe his relieving himself (i.e., “covering his feet”). The combination of ‫ סכך‬with ‫ ב‬preposition is well attested, in which case the preposition modifies the object that does the covering (e.g., the cherubim’s wings in Exod 25:20, 37:9; anger in Lam 3:43; a cloud, Job 3:44). On the other hand, �‫ וַ יָּ ֶס‬could also be the hiphil waw-consecutive of ‫סוך‬ (also ‫“ )שׂוך‬to hedge about” or “close in,” as in Job 1:10 (‫ ֲה ֽל ֹא ַא ָתּה ַ ֣שׂ ְכ ָת‬, “have you not hedged him in,” i.e., protectively) and 3:23 (�‫וַ יָּ ֶס� ֱאל֣ ַוֹ‬, “God has hedged him in,” i.e., obstructively). This verb occurs also with the preposition ‫ ב‬in Hos 2:8 (‫ ִהנְ נִ י־ ָשׂ� ֶאת־ ַדּ ְר ֵכּ� ַבּ ִסּ ִירים‬, “I will hedge your way in with thorns”). The root is related to words meaning “hedge” (‫סוּכה‬ ָ ‫)מ‬ ְ and “branch” (�‫)שׂוֹ‬. The evidence of the versions is ambiguous, but perhaps favors the second option; only the rabbinic Targum offers a minority report (‫טלל‬, to “cover” or “shade”; cf. Gen 19:8; Exod 25:20; Num 10:34, etc.). 7 In either case, God’s control is the titular subject of the first line in the new stanza: God shuts in the Sea with doors. The thematic and grammatical continuity of 8a with the preceding stanza also emboldens the concept of God’s control over the Sea in this verse. Verses 4–7 directly before 8a address a train of questions to Job, in fulfilment of YHWH’s programmatic statement in 3b (�‫)וְ ֶא ְשׁ ָא ְל‬. The verbal actions of each clause follow one another sequentially in describing God’s primordial building of the world (‫ יסד‬in 4a, ‫ שׂים‬5a, ‫ נטה‬in 5b, ‫ ירה‬in 6b). The vocabulary used for these deeds occurs together elsewhere, notably in 125F

widely recognized that the form derives from a *yaqtul preterite (Anson Rainey, “The Ancient Hebrew Prefix Conjugation in the Light of Amarna Canaanite,” Hebrew Studies 27 [1986], 4–19). I have chosen “waw-consecutive” because of its wide currency. 7 Henceforward RtgJob, whose base text is MS Vatican, Biblioteca Apostolica Urbinas I= ‫( ט‬David M. Stec, The Text of the Targum of Job : An Introduction and Critical Editio [AGJU, Leiden/New York: E.J. Brill, 1994]). RtgJob also includes the verb ‫סגר‬, to shut, in the same line (‫)וסגר וטלל‬. OG features φράσσω, “to shut, close, stop,” which translates ‫ סוּך‬in Hos 2:8. Nonetheless, OG renders the identical form �‫ וַ יָּ ֶס‬in Job 3:23 by συγκλείω, to “shut or enclose,” which it also uses for Hebrew ‫ סגר‬in Job 3:10. OG’s translation of all the finite verbs in the stanza with 1cs represents a harmonization rather than a different Vorlage. 11Q10 uses the verb ‫סוג‬, “hold back,” in 2ms + interrogative ‫ה‬. Vulgate features conclusit, “he closed.”

488

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Second Isaiah, where it also celebrates YHWH’s unique power. 8 Here the rhetorical emphasis falls not only on YHWH’s singular power but also on Job’s absence from and incapacity for such acts. That vv 8–11 function as a unit distinct from vv 4–7 is shown by the introduction of a new word in 8a (‫יָם‬, Sea) which acts as object in all the following lines until 12a. The semantic range of the verbs shift from those of construction in vv 4–7 to restraint and birth in vv 8–11. Also, both lines of verse 11 feature actions of cessation (‫“ וְ לֹא ת ִֹסיף‬and no further”; ‫וּפֹא־‬ ‫“ יִ ְשׁבֹּת‬here shall stop”), a closural clue common in Job, e.g., 3:10, 5:16, 7:10, 39:4.9 Nonetheless, despite its separate integrity as a poetic unit, the verbal action of 8a continues the description from vv 4–7 of YHWH’s uniquely powerful deeds at the beginning of creation. The verbal ideas of each stanza differ: the movement of 4–7 is positive (building) and that of 8a, prohibitive (containment). Nonetheless, whereas subsequent stanzas in chapter 38 describe regular or gnomic aspects of the world (e.g., morning and dawn, death and the deep, weather and the constellations, etc.), the first two both attest unique, punctiliar actions at the world’s beginning. These two actions, of construction and constraint, are also often associated in the creation traditions of the Bible and the ancient Near East (cf. Prov 8:29 and Ps 104:9, where verbs for establishment and constraint occur within verses of each other; cf. also Enuma Elish). The thematic coincidence of creation and containment here in Job 38 as elsewhere strengthens the rhetorical continuity of 8a with the previous stanza: 8a, too, declaims God’s extreme and singular power, to which Job is wholly incommensurate. The grammar of 8a also links it with the preceding stanza, as a continuation of the question asked in 6b (‫) ִמי־יָ ָרה‬. In MT, the 3ms form of �‫ וַ יָּ ֶס‬has no clear grammatical antecedent; the previous verb in 7b is also in third person, but plural. Many commentators resolve this lack of a subject by emending MT towards the Vulgate’s interrogative, quis conclusit, “who closed,” correcting the Hebrew to �‫מי ָס‬, ִ “who shut.” 10 On this hypothesis, 127F

128F

8 Second Isaiah counts a total of four clustered words in common with Job 38: Isa 48:13, 51:13, 16 all have forms of the paired roots ‫ ;יסד־ארץ‬also note the occurrence of verb + noun phrases for stretching out or establishing “the heavens” (‫)שׁ ַמיִם‬ ָ in each of these verses (‫ טפח‬in Isa 48:13; ‫ נטה‬in 51:13; ‫ נטע‬in 51:16). The verb ‫נטה‬, “to stretch out,” in Job 38:5b also occurs in these places, Isa 44:24, 45:12, 51:13. Isa 44:13 features the conjunction of ‫ נטה‬with ‫קו‬,ַ “line,” as in Job 38:5b. Cf. also Prov 3:19 when YHWH in “wisdom” (‫ ָח ְכ ָמה‬, synonym of ‫ ִבינָ ה‬as in Job 38:4b) “established the earth” (‫יָ ַסד־ ָא ֶרץ‬, also in 38:4a). 9 C.L. Seow, “Poetic Closure in Job: the First Cycle,” JSOT 34 (2010), 433–446. 10 E.g., Edouard Dhorme, A Commentary on the Book of Job (trans. Harold Knight; Nashville: T. Nelson, 1984 [orig. Paris: V. Lecoffre, 1926]), 577.

GOD AND THE SEA IN JOB 38

489

the ‫ מ‬of the original ‫ ִמי‬at the head of 8a was omitted by haplography with the ‫ מ‬closing 7b (‫�הים‬ ִ ‫)א‬. ֱ The ‫ ו‬of MT �‫ וַ יָּ ֶס‬is then either a mistaken transcription of the ‫ י‬in ‫ ִמי‬or a compensatory addition made after the ‫מ‬ from the original ‫ ִמי‬had already dropped out. This text-critical reconstruction conforms 8a to the previous stanza’s pattern of interrogative + perfect verb + adverbial clause (vv 4a, 5a, 5b, 6a, 6b). Such grammatical echoing would reinforce the close connection of 8a with the preceding stanza. But the relation of 8a with vv 4–7 is even more direct than syntactic repetition: a better solution to the problem of the 3ms verb leaves MT unchanged, and understands �‫ וַ יָּ ֶס‬as referring back to the interrogative 3ms subject of 6b (‫) ִמי־יָ ָרה‬. This hypothesis explains the presence of the simple 3ms verbs in RtgJob, which are difficult to derive given an original ‫ ִמי‬in 8a. On this explanation, the Vulgate’s interrogative is a coordinating insertion rather than a sign of a different Vorlage. 11 Leaving MT intact avoids the convolution of supposing that the ‫ ו‬of MT is an addition or misreading. Moreover, the pattern of interrogative + perfect verb + adverbial clause is not even throughout the poem to this point (e.g., 7b, which is a waw-consecutive related to the preceding clause, but nonetheless finite, unlike the two infinitives of 8b and 9a below), giving space to this exception. Ehrlich and Dhorme suppose that the intervening lines of 7a and 7b prevent �‫ וַ יָּ ֶס‬from referring back to ‫ ִמי־יָ ָרה‬, 12 but some precedent exists for waw-consecutives referring back to ‫ ִמי‬as their subject after intervening material, e.g., Jer 23:8. Thematically and grammatically, then, 8a relates closely to the first stanza in the chapter, whose preeminent purpose is to show God’s unique power and Job’s incommensurability. Some scholars have proposed emendations to the MT of 8a that make the line describe only the Sea’s birth rather than God’s constraint of it. Literarily, such a text-critical reconstruction removes the theme of God’s antagonism towards the Sea from the stanza’s important opening line, 129F

120F

OG “I closed/fenced in” (ἔφραξα) does not represent a real variant, but a translator’s pass at a smoother reading: not only is OG periphrastic in this chapter at large (e.g., v 14), but there are other instances of changing the person from second or third to first (e.g., vv 12, 21). 8a is a case of assimilation to the series of first person verbs that closely follow (vv 9, 10, 11). Chrysostom (εφραξας) and 11Q10 (‫ )התסוג‬testify to a 2ms verb here in 8a; 11Q10 has an interrogative ‫ה‬ prefix, and Chrysostom should probably be understood as a question as well. These forms also represent editorial smoothing, a conformation to the second-person question pattern of earlier in the chapter. 12 Arnold Ehrlich, Randglossen zur Hebraï schen Bibel (Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs, 1908). Dhorme, A Commentary, 577. 11

490

COLLIN R. CORNELL

leaving this opposition only perhaps in the last two verses (10, 11). Because this text-critical move makes God’s caring and advocatory role lead the stanza, defending my thesis that vv 8–11 primarily emphasize God’s control over the Sea necessitates a detailed rebuttal. Amending 8a so that it depicts the Sea’s birth has the following attractions: making 8a about birthing rather than restraining the Sea creates parallelism between 8a and 8b, which relationship between lines has been consistent in the poem up to this point (and after it, e.g., the additive parallelism of vv 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 11). The proposed emendations keep the two themes of birth and control separate and sequential in the stanza rather than curiously intermingled as in MT. These proposals have the additional virtue of giving the verb of 8a a proximate third person subject, namely, the Sea. Specifically, Driver suggests a corruption of the first word (�‫)וַ יָּ ֶס‬, and reads the rest of the line as ‫ ְבּ ֻה ֶלּ ֶדת‬or ‫בּלֶּ ֶדת‬, ֻ hophal infinitive construct from ‫ילד‬, “when the sea was born.” 13 In favor of this reading, he posits the awkwardness of making “doors” the complement of the verb ‫סוך‬, “hedge about,” as well as the stylistic offensiveness of repeating ‫ ְד ָל ָתיִם‬again in 10b. Blommerde leaves the consonantal text intact, but reads the finite verb as ‫וַ יֻּ ַסּך‬, hophal or passive qal from ‫נסך‬, to “pour out,” and the preposition ‫ ב‬on ‫ ִבּ ְד ָל ַתיִם‬as “ablatival”: “when the sea poured out of the two doors,” 14 i.e., from the vulva.15 But the above proposals suffer from two major faults: the evidence of the ancient versions and the principle of lectio difficilior. The ancient translations all appear to read either Hebrew ‫ סוך‬or ‫( סכך‬see above). Driver and Blommerde thus require that the corruption in the text have occurred not only before the consolidation of MT but before the development of the Hebrew textual traditions underlying the versions. This claims too much on the basis of only stylistic evidences. Secondly, the juxtaposition of the Sea’s containment (8a) with its exit (8b) in the same verse is a more complex reading than a verse whose two halves describe the same event of the Sea’s proruption, especially given the poem’s precedent of additive parallelism. 12F

12F

123F

13 G. Driver, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Job (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1921), 299. Cf. also H. Bauer and P. Leander, Historische Grammatik der Hebräischen Sprache des Alten Testaments (Halle an der Saale: Niemeyer, 1922), 379. 14 A. Blommerde, Northwest Semitic Grammar and Job (Rome: Pontifical Bible Institute, 1969), 133. 15 As in Fuchs’ translation, “aus den Toren (des Mutterleibes).” Gisela Fuchs,

Mythos und Hiobdichtung: Aufnahme und Umdeutung Altorientalischer Vorstellungen (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1993), 194.

GOD AND THE SEA IN JOB 38

491

Other more specific problems discredit these emendations: Driver leaves the corruption of �‫ וַ יָּ ֶס‬at the head of the clause unexplained. His substitution of ‫ ְבּ ֻה ֶלּ ֶדת‬or ‫ ֻבּ ֶלּ ֶדת‬for ‫ ִבּ ְדלָ ַתיִם‬requires metathesis as well as an implausible scribal deletion of ‫ ה‬or an unattested collapse of the causative ‫ה‬ into the ‫ ב‬preposition. 16 He alleges that repetition such as that of ‫ְד ָל ָתיִם‬ both in 8a and in 10b is stylistically offensive, but this is untrue of Job and this chapter (cf. repetition of ‫ ְר ָשׁ ִﬠים‬in 13b and 15; of ‫ ַשׁ ֲﬠ ֵרי‬in 17; �‫ ֶד ֶר‬in 24, 25). As for Blommerde’s case, the verb ‫ נסך‬that Blommerde reads for �‫וַ יָּ ֶס‬ typically describes sacrificial offerings, libations, or metallic artwork and never birth as here. 17 Furthermore, Blommerde’s reading requires “ablatival” ‫“( ב‬from the double doors”). Ugaritic literature helped scholars to see the presence of this usage in biblical Hebrew, 18 and it is possibly attested, if rarely, in Job. 19 Nonetheless, “ablatival” ‫ ב‬is never used with ‫ד ֶלת‬,ֶ but, in all other biblical cases, the meaning of this preposition with this noun is instrumental or locative (e.g., Deut 15:17; Judg 16:3; 2 Kgs 6:32, 12:9). On the other hand, the two verses in which ‫ ִמן‬occurs before the dual of doors (‫ ַ)דּ ְל ֵתי‬and in concert with the verb ‫( יצא‬Josh 2:19; Judg 11:31) show that the sense Blommerde proposes for v. 8a (“went out from the doors”) was grammatically available to the Joban poet in more conventional Hebrew. In the end, the most plausible reading of 8a shows God shutting in the Sea and not the Sea’s birth. 8a highlights God’s power over and opposition to the Sea by fronting a verb of containment, by linking thematically and grammatically into the preceding stanza about God’s primordial strength, and, lastly, by countering Job’s curse in chapter 3. A web of lexemes holds Job 3 and 38 together, indicating that the first divine speech should be read intentionally against the first unit of the dialogues. Where Job calls for darkness (forms of ‫חשׁך‬ in 3:4, 5, 9) to seize the day of his birth, God accuses Job of causing darkness himself (‫ חשׁך‬in 38:2). Where Job wishes that the “stars of its morning” (‫כּוֹכ ֵבי נִ ְשׁפּוֹ‬, ְ 3:9) would blacken out, God points to their celebration over God’s work of establishing the cosmos (‫כּוֹכ ֵבי ב ֶֹקר‬, ְ 38:7). Where Job curses the night of his conception for not shutting the doors of his womb (‫ ַ)דּ ְל ֵתי ִב ְטנִי‬but releasing him to trouble, 124F

125F

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Hebrew verbs whose infinitive construct forms begin with ‫( ה‬niphal, hiphil, hophal, and hithpael) do not syncopate after the ‫ ב‬preposition. Cf. Lev 26:43 for the only (other) example in the Hebrew Bible of a hophal infinitive construct with the ‫ב‬ preposition—where the ‫ ה‬does not drop out. 17 G. Fuchs, Mythos, 195. 18 Dennis Pardee, “The Preposition in Ugaritic,” UF 8 (1976), 215–322. 19 Nahum Sarna proposes 4:21, 7:14, 20:20. “Interchange of Prepositions Beth and Min,” JBL 78 (1959), 315. 16

492

COLLIN R. CORNELL

God claims to have shut in the Sea with doors (‫בּ ְד ָל ַתיִם‬,ִ 38:8a). Job in ch 3 assumes the Sea as God’s foe: he calls for those who curse the Sea to curse also this night (3:8a). 20 The Sea is, by default, a monstrous chaos-being, and Job directs some of the opposition and horror due it towards the night of his birth. In 7:12 he also presumes the Sea as the object of God’s opposition. 21 While different verbs describe the night “shutting” (‫ )סגר‬the doors of the womb in 3:10a and God “shutting in” (‫ סכך‬or ‫ )סוך‬the Sea with doors in 38:8a, their range of meaning is so similar that OG translates with the same verb (συγκλείω) both in 3:10 and also in 3:23, which latter verse features the exact same Hebrew verb form as in 38:8a (�‫)וַ יָּ ֶס‬. God in 38:8a thus rebuts Job by showing God’s decisive power over the uncontrolled forces of chaos and death. Though the stanza as a whole (and even the following line) will subtly reframe God’s relation to chaos, at least for this first line the poem upholds the conventional antagonism of God and Sea. Verse 8b describes the Sea’s gushing forth from the womb. This line is important for this article’s thesis about God’s control (and care for) the Sea because it introduces the Sea’s birth: God’s shutting in the Sea with doors (8a) occurs not in its adulthood but at the time of its emergence from the womb (8b). This line constitutes the beginning of the poem’s reimagination of God’s relation to chaos and a radical reformulation of the Chaoskampf tradition: the Sea is no powerful opponent and rival, but a newborn infant, a quintessentially dependent and helpless being. By introducing the Sea’s birth, 8b sets up for the next and even more subversive event of verse 9 (God’s swaddling). However, casting the Sea as an infant does not straightforwardly empty the Sea of its usual dramatic or threatening ambience, because the Sea “gushes forth” (‫)גיח‬, a verb implying 128F

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20 C.L. Seow, “Orthography, Textual Criticism, and the Poetry of Job,” JBL 130 (2011), 74. 21 On Blommerde’s hypothesis, explained above, the double doors in 38:8a, as in 3:10a, refer to the vulva from which the Sea emerged. Blommerde then imagines that God responds to Job by saying, in effect, “not only did I not shut the doors of your womb, but when my chaos-opponent the Sea emerged from the doors of its womb, I was present to care for it (v 9).” God does not reverse Job’s curse, but strangely confirms Job’s request for the ascendancy of chaos by disclosing God’s collusion with the wild, unholy powers that Job invokes. However, literary considerations tell against this reading: introducing God’s solidarity with the Sea so soon after God’s confrontative first address (38:2, 3) and speech about establishing the ordered world (vv 4–7) would be both sudden and radical. This article proposes a more graded and subtle movement away from the conventional opposition of God and chaos.

GOD AND THE SEA IN JOB 38

493

sudden and aggressive expulsion, and for which both natal and mythical parallels exist.22 Besides recasting the Sea as an infant, 8b also subtly undercuts the dynamic of God’s antagonistic control over the Sea in 8a by juxtaposing it against one of breaching (8b). The verse stages one action and then subtly defuses it by describing its contrary: God fences in the Sea – when it gushes out! The contrast in vowel quality (at least in the MT’s Tiberian Hebrew) of the stressed syllables reinforces the semantic transition between the lines: open vowels punctuate God’s shutting in the Sea in 8a and i/e sounds the Sea’s rushing forth from the womb in 8b. 23 However, the contrast between the two lines is only on the thematic level: neither envisioning the Sea as a newborn nor describing its breaching alongside its containment overtly correct the first, fronted motif of God’s powerful control over chaos. Confinement and breaching in 8b do not grammatically contrast with one another: rather, the syntax of 8b indicates concomitance, and the juxtaposition between lines is only conceptual. A few Greek versions read infinitive ‫ ְבּגִ יחוֹ‬and ‫ יֵ ֵצא‬sequentially. OG translates ‫ ְבּגִ יחוֹ‬with ἐμαιμασσεν, a verb which could describe the actual bursting forth (as in Hebrew) as well as the “quivering with eagerness” before birth (which ‫ יֵ ֵצא‬at the end of the line then describes). Aquila renders ‫ ְבּגִ יחוֹ‬with ἐν τᾠ παλαίειν, “wrestling,” perhaps referring to prenatal sloshing around (cf. Mic 4:10). However, it is more likely that, as in verse 7a, the infinitive frames the time of the clause before it: “he shut in the Sea with doors, when it gushed out.” As in 7b, the subsequent finite verb ‫ יֵ ֵצא‬describes the same action as the preceding infinitive (cf. Job 6:17 for a similar construction). 24 In sum, 8b contrasts against God’s powerful control over the Sea in 8a by casting the Sea as a newborn infant and by showing the Sea rushing out. Nonetheless, the Sea does not wholly lose its threatening aspect, as the verb for its expulsion marks. Finally, the undetermined nature of the womb from which the Sea came adds an enigmatic or ominous dimension to the 123 F

Although Masora parva marks ‫ ְבּגִ יחוֹ‬as a hapax legomenon, its meaning as a qal infinitive construct + 3ms (subject) suffix from the verb ‫גיח‬, to “burst forth,” is clear (cf. hiphil in Judg 20:33 to describe ambush). The same verb occurs in qal in Ezek 32:2, where its subject is compared with ‫ ַתּנִּ ים‬, “dragons,” which burst forth �‫רוֹתי‬ ֶ ‫בּנַ ֲה‬, ְ “in your rivers.” Dan 7:2 also associate this verb with waters, and Ps 22:10 links it with birth: ‫מ ָבּ ֶטן‬, ִ “from the womb,” occurs directly after the verb. 23 As such, the line also echoes the contrasting but paired movements of Job 1:10, where the satan observes how God has Job “fenced in” (‫שׂ ְכ ָתּ‬, ַ same verb as in 8a) but his wealth (‫)מ ְק ֵנ֖הוּ‬ ִ overflows (‫)פּ ַרץ‬. ָ 24 Ernst Jenni, Die Hebraï schen Prap ̈ ositionen, Bd 1 (Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1992), 316–327. 22

494

COLLIN R. CORNELL

spare scene the line renders of its birth. The versions expand Hebrew ‫מ ֶר ֶחם‬, ֵ “from the womb,” seeking to give it some bearings: OG κοιλίας μητρός, “from the mother’s womb,” RtgJob ‫מן תהומא ממן רחמא‬, “from the deep, from the the womb,” 11Q10 ‫מן רחם תהומא‬, “from the womb of the deep.” 25 However, the MT’s lack of specificity regarding from whose womb the Sea emerges echoes the indeterminacy of Job’s own in 3:10 (“my womb”). The omission of “mother” in both passages connects them, and perhaps serves to point up the conflict at the book’s center over who is responsible for the world’s moral morass. Who (metaphorically) “gives birth” to the sufferer and to chaos?26 123F

1234F

SWADDLING THE SEA (V 9) Verse 9 is pivotal in the first divine speech. Describing the Sea as a newborn and thematically contrasting confinement with breaching in verse 8 subtly reconstitute the relation between God and the Sea. The imagery of verse 9 sharpens and heightens this reframing, posing God not as an opponent of the Sea but as caretaker to its newborn infancy. If God’s relation to the baby Sea still remained ambiguous in v 8, v 9 depicts God exercising an unmistakably maternal role towards the Sea by giving it clothing. Although ‫ ִשׂים‬and ‫ ְלבוֹשׁ‬do not occur together elsewhere in the Bible, their meaning here is clear and the versions translate the first line consistently. 27 Similarly, ‫ ֲח ֻת ָלּה‬in 9b is a hapax legomenon, but its meaning here (“swaddling band”) is transparent because the same verbal root occurs in a similar context in Ezekiel28 and a similar register obtains in postbiblical Hebrew. 29 1235F

1236F

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25 Joseph Ziegler, Job, Septuaginta (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1982). David Shepherd, Targum and Translation: A Reconsideration of the Qumran Aramaic Version of Job, Studia Semitica Neerlandica, (Assen: Royal Van Gorcum, 2004). Michael Sokoloff, The Targum to Job from Qumran Cave XI (Jerusalem: Bar-Ilan Univ., 1974). 26 Incidentally, the word “mother” occurs infrequently in Job, and its connotation is ambiguous; it is associated with death (1:21, 17:14) or punishment (24:20). 27 11Q10 has ‫בשות עננין לבושׁ‬, “when [I] set clouds for its clothing.” OG ἐθέμην, “I place/put,” and ἀμφίασιν, “garments”; RtgJob ‫בשוואותי עננין כסותיה‬, “when I appointed clouds its covering”; Vulgate ponerem nubem vestimentum, “I made a cloud the garment.” 28 Ezekiel uses the same root in pual and hophal in 16:4 to describe the scene of an infant’s care; in 30:21 he uses the root substantively to describe a bandage applied to a wound of war. 29 G. Fuchs, Mythos, 194. But cf. Aquila and Theodotion who translate by

GOD AND THE SEA IN JOB 38

495

Some scholars have used comparative evidence to interpret v 9 as a restatement of God’s restraint of the Sea in 8a by a different trope. Swaddling, they argue, is in v 9 an act of control over a violent, monstrous infant, as in KTU 1.1230 and in Mandaean Right Ginza. 31 However, the Ugaritic text is far too fragmentary to cite as good evidence for this case. 32 Besides the late date of the Ginza that makes comparison against Job tenuous, 33 this interpretation of the swaddling, repeated since Gunkel, has misconstrued the Mandaean text. 34 The wrapping of the monstrous infant Ur-Ziwa by his mother Ruha is not antagonistic. Ruha is also a kind of

Greek πλάνησιν, “wanderer,” apparently misreading for Hebrew ‫מ ֲה ַתלּוֹת‬, ַ which OG translates by the same Greek word πλάνησιν in Isa 30:10. 30 Found in 1930, beige terre. Andree Herdner, Corpus des Tablettes en Cuneí formes Alphabet́ iques Deć ouvertes à Ras Shamra-Ugarit de 1929 à 1939 (Paris Imprimerie Nationale, 1963). In this Ugaritic fragment, El invents a plan to defeat his enemy Baal: he sends two divine handmaidens out into the wilderness to give birth to creatures called Eaters (aklm) and Devourers (‘qmm) which have humps like buffalo and horns like bulls. El instructs these maidens to take ḥtlk, “your swaddling” (cognate root with Job 38:9). 31 In this esoteric text, the first person speaker is a god of light, Hibil-Ziwa, who describes the birth of Ur, a Lord of Darkness, to his mother Ruha. After Ur’s birth, Ruha swaddles Ur for three hundred and sixty thousand years; afterwards, Ur falls into the (cosmic) dark waters. Hibil-Ziwa sees that Ur will grow into a giant “more than the greatest of giants,” and so contains him inside of seven golden walls. W. Brandt (ed.) Ginzā, Mandaï sche Schriften (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1893). 32 Both Pope and Fuchs draw on this text while discussing the motif of restraining a violent infant, but hesitate to invoke it directly to support their reading of swaddling as restraint in v 9 because of its fragmentary character. Marvin H. Pope, Job, 3d ed. (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1965), 293; G. Fuchs, Mythos, 198; Dirk Kinet, Ugarit, Geschichte und Kultur Einer Stadt in der Umwelt Des Alten Testamentes, Stuttgarter Bibelstudien (Stuttgart: Verlag Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1981), 84. 33 Fuchs herself admits the chronological problems with using the Mandaean scriptures for reading Job (Mythos, 49). The Right Ginza was collected in the second half of the 7th c. BCE, though its traditions may date from much longer before its literary codification. Sinasi Gunduz, The Knowledge of Life: the Origins and Early History of the Mandaeans and their Relation to the Sabians of the Qur’ān and to the Harranians (Oxford: Oxford, 1994), 55. 34 H. Gunkel, Schöpfung und Chaos: Eine Religionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung über Gen 1 und Ap Joh 12 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1895), 92.

496

COLLIN R. CORNELL

monster, and she has eagerly anticipated the birth of her son. 35 Ur-Ziwa’s restraint is effected later by another party, namely, the Ginza’s narrator. God’s act of swaddling the Sea in v 9 retains its caring, maternal aspect and its contrast against God’s powerful control in v 8. Some scholars have used comparative evidence to interpret v 9 as a restatement of God’s restraint of the Sea in 8a by a different trope. Swaddling, they argue, is in v 9 an act of control over a violent, monstrous infant, as in KTU 1.12 36 and in Mandaean Right Ginza. 37 However, the Ugaritic text is far too fragmentary to cite as good evidence for this case. 38 Besides the late date of the Ginza that makes comparison against Job tenuous, 39 this interpretation of the swaddling, repeated since Gunkel, has misconstrued the Mandaean text. 40 The wrapping of the monstrous infant W. Brandt, Ginzā, 168. Found in 1930, beige terre. Andree Herdner, Corpus des Tablettes en Cunéiformes Alphabet́ iques Découvertes à Ras Shamra-Ugarit de 1929 à 1939 (Paris Imprimerie Nationale, 1963). In this Ugaritic fragment, El invents a plan to defeat his enemy Baal: he sends two divine handmaidens out into the wilderness to give birth to creatures called Eaters (aklm) and Devourers (‘qmm) which have humps like buffalo and horns like bulls. El instructs these maidens to take ḥtlk, “your swaddling” (cognate root with Job 38:9). 37 In this esoteric text, the first person speaker is a god of light, Hibil-Ziwa, who describes the birth of Ur, a Lord of Darkness, to his mother Ruha. After Ur’s birth, Ruha swaddles Ur for three hundred and sixty thousand years; afterwards, Ur falls into the (cosmic) dark waters. Hibil-Ziwa sees that Ur will grow into a giant “more than the greatest of giants,” and so contains him inside of seven golden walls. W. Brandt (ed.) Ginzā, Mandaï sche Schriften (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1893). 38 Both Pope and Fuchs draw on this text while discussing the motif of restraining a violent infant, but hesitate to invoke it directly to support their reading of swaddling as restraint in v 9 because of its fragmentary character. Marvin H. Pope, Job, 3d ed. (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1965), 293; G. Fuchs, Mythos, 198; Dirk Kinet, Ugarit, Geschichte und Kultur Einer Stadt in der Umwelt Des Alten Testamentes, Stuttgarter Bibelstudien (Stuttgart: Verlag Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1981), 84. 39 Fuchs herself admits the chronological problems with using the Mandaean scriptures for reading Job (Mythos, 49). The Right Ginza was collected in the second half of the 7th c. BCE, though its traditions may date from much longer before its literary codification. Sinasi Gunduz, The Knowledge of Life: the Origins and Early History of the Mandaeans and their Relation to the Sabians of the Qur’ān and to the Harranians (Oxford: Oxford, 1994), 55. 40 H. Gunkel, Schöpfung und Chaos: Eine Religionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung über Gen 1 und Ap Joh 12 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 35 36

GOD AND THE SEA IN JOB 38

497

Ur-Ziwa by his mother Ruha is not antagonistic. Ruha is also a kind of monster, and she has eagerly anticipated the birth of her son. 41 Ur-Ziwa’s restraint is effected later by another party, namely, the Ginza’s narrator. God’s act of swaddling the Sea in v 9 retains its caring, maternal aspect and its contrast against God’s powerful control in v 8. Other scholars have argued that v 9 represents an ironic radicalization and not a subversion of the traditional Chaoskampf motif. The point of the swaddling imagery is not to communicate God’s advocacy for the Sea, God’s traditional opponent, but to abase and diminish the Sea in comparison with God’s superabundant power. 42 Not only is the Sea unequal to God in martial combat; to God it is only a helpless baby! 43 However, this interpretation overlooks the important datum of the material constituting the swaddling clothes. The scene is not one of straightforward maternal care with the swaddling as a neutral set piece. Rather, the clothing given to the infant Sea is of a numinous nature: “cloud” (‫)ﬠנָ ן‬ ָ and “thick darkness” (‫)ﬠ ָר ֶפל‬. ֲ These words (‫ ָﬠנָ ן‬and ‫)ﬠ ָר ֶפל‬ ֲ occur elsewhere in Job: in 26:8, Job appeals to the way God binds up water inside the clouds (‫)ﬠנָ ן‬ ָ as one in a litany of terrifying mysteries characteristic of God, Job’s overweening adversary (cf. similarly in 37:11, 15). ‫ ֲﬠ ָר ֶפל‬occurs in 22:13, when Eliphaz describes the deep darkness and thick cloud surrounding God in God’s transcendence. Elsewhere in the Bible, these two words occur directly together, theophanically in Deuteronomy (4:11, 5:22; cf. also Ps 97:2) or in reference to a day of judgment in some prophets (Ezek 34:12; Joel 2:2; Zeph 1:15). Another word for cloud, ‫ﬠב‬, ָ features in different ways throughout Job to evoke God’s might and mystery (20:6, 22:14, 36:29, 37:16). Verse 9 thus not only stages God as the Sea’s caretaker rather than its jailer – but the clothing within which God wraps the Sea adds a further subversive dimension to the scene. God shrouds the Sea in numinous cloud, which elsewhere accompanies God’s own presence and arrival. In this way, v 9 anticipates the odd communicatio idiomatum that characterizes the great creatures of the second divine speech, e.g., God’s exultation over their power and greatness which otherwise only God possesses (40:16, 41:7a, 34). 44 Verse 9 gives a charged and ambivalent scene: God caring for the newborn Sea by clothing it in numinous cloud. 1250F

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1895), 92. 41 W. Brandt, Ginzā, 168. 42 T. Mettinger, “God,” 41. 43 Cf. Ps 104:26 where Leviathan is portrayed as God’s plaything. 44 C. Newsom, Book of Job, 248.

498

COLLIN R. CORNELL

SETTING LIMITS (VV 10 AND 11) The last two verses of the stanza belong together: by different ways they both enunciate the same theme, namely, God’s containment of the Sea. In the first line, God, now speaking in first person, 45 claims, “I have set my boundary 46 on it (the Sea) / and I have placed a bar and doors (on it).” The meaning of the second line also clearly comprises God’s direct address of the Sea to command its limitation. The MT verb ‫ וָ ֶא ְשׁבֹּר‬at the head of v 10 has been variously emended, because the usual denotation of ‫שׁבר‬, “to break,” does not make sense here. 47 Over against such text-critical alternatives, the versions understood the line in roughly similar ways, all pertaining to God’s constraint of the Sea: OG ἐθέμην, “I placed bounds for it,” Vulgate circumdedi “I set my bounds,” RtgJob ‫פשקת‬, “I placed bounds upon it.” Notably, the Arabic cognate tabara, “to destroy, ruin,” is also used in the sense of “to limit, confine.” 48 Apparently then ‫ שׁבר חק‬is an idiom for setting a boundary, parallel to the expression in Prov 8:29, also applied to the Sea (‫) ִשׂים חֹק‬. 49 Verse 10b also and more concretely bespeaks God’s restraint of the Sea, repeating the double doors from 8a. Scholars often compare the bar and door of Job 38:10b with a passage from the Babylonian creation epic, Enuma Elish, in which Marduk sets a bar and guard over the cloven body of Tiamat, the primordial monster goddess of the ocean, lest “her waters 1253F

1254F

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1256F

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11Q10 has ‫“ ותשׁוה‬and do you (2ms) place boundaries on it.” However, this is explicable in terms of its general conformation of all the lines in the stanza to the 2ms interrogative form (“will you hold back the Sea,” v. 8; “do you place boundaries,” v. 10, “did you say,” v. 11). 46 The versions go slightly different directions regarding the number and pronominal possessive of ‫חֹק‬, “boundary,” which elsewhere in Job means “decree” (23:4) or “limit” (14:5, 13; 28:26). OG has ὅρια, boundaries; Vulgate terminis meis, “my boundaries”; RtgJob ‫גזירתי‬, “my decree(s),” and 11Q10 ‫תחומין‬, “boundaries.” The mixed evidence for plural or singular is explicable in terms of an unpointed Vorlage. I understand the MT’s suffix here as 1cs subjective, rather than a 3ms as Blommerde, Fohrer, et al. 47 Instead of MT ‫שׁבֹּר‬ ְ ‫וָ ֶא‬, critics posit ‫“ ֶא ִשׂית‬I placed” (Merx, Wright), ‫ֶא ְס ָכר‬ “I closed” (Hoffman), ‫“ ֶא ְסגֹר‬I closed” (Fohrer), ‫“ ֶא ְס ָטר‬I inscribed” (Beer), and ‫“ ֶא ְשׁ ָמר‬I kept” (Ehrlich), among others. 48 Edward Lane, An Arabic-English Lexicon (London Edinburgh, Williams and Norgate, 1863–93), 330. 49 Gerhard Liedke, Gestalt und Bezeichnung Alttestamentlicher Rechtssätze: Eine Formsgeschichtlich-terminologische Studien (WMANT 39 Neukirnen–Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1971), 163. 45

GOD AND THE SEA IN JOB 38

499

escape.” 50 These verses also represent a different form of a motif present elsewhere in the Bible, namely, that of God’s powerful circumscription of the waters at creation (Jer 5:22; Prov 8:29; Ps 104:9; even Gen 1). Verse 11 changes to direct speech, addressed to the Sea. This rhetorical move anticipates the (presumably verbal) “command” of the following verse (12a) and also echoes traditions of God’s powerful voice found elsewhere in the Bible (cf. Gen 1; also Ps 24, 46:6). Ending the stanza with direct speech points up God’s power: over against the Chaoskampf tradition, God’s words suffice where other gods toil. The two lines of the verse feature significant symmetry, both cascading from the prominently fronted ‫פֹּה‬, “here,” at the start of each clause. At least in the Tiberian Hebrew of the MT, a strong assonance characterizes the whole verse. The repeated ō/ô lends the verse a driving forward movement, and perhaps also onomatopoeically evokes the sound of the Sea’s own waves (�‫)גַּ ֶלּי‬, whose reach God here determines. Verse 11 thus ends the stanza by demonstrating God’s power over the Sea, but the tone of the line is not monochromatic. Its direct speech and its use of “pride”-language subtly continue the reframing of the relationship between God and Sea that verse 9 more vividly effected. The direct speech of v 11 is unique within the divine speeches. The divine speeches themselves in 38–41 constitute protracted direct speeches to Job, but they do not elsewhere feature a smaller, embedded address as here. Excepting the prose prologue in which YHWH speaks with the satan (1:7, 8, 12, 2:2, 3, 6) and 11:5 where Job wishes that God would speak, the book of Job is otherwise conspicuously empty of divine speech. Notably, then, God’s few speeches in Job are directed towards personal beings: the satan and Job. Over against the stanza’s other lines in which the Sea is an object of God’s constraint, the direct speech in v 11 perpetuates the Sea’s personal aspect, which v 8b began with the idea of birth and v 9 emphasized by the action of swaddling. This personal note complicates and softens the dynamic of God’s containment. Some scholars cite the personal color of the direct speech as a warrant for construing the last two verses of the stanza as an extension of the parental tropes begun in 8b and continued in v 9. This interpretation also adduces the temporal linearity of the poem: just as the first stanza follows a sequence, so also in vv 8–11, birth (v 8b) precedes swaddling (v 9). The next life-stage event in the growth of the Sea would be toddlerhood or perhaps young adulthood, described in vv 10 and 11. So Dhorme: “the sea has been depicted as a new-borne babe issuing from the maternal womb and covered with swaddling bands. It is going to become an adult capable 50

ANET, 67, line 140.

500

COLLIN R. CORNELL

of receiving commands and of becoming subject to a law.”51 Habel follows a similar tack: “this violent chaos monster is but an infant…wrapped in baby clothes, placed in a playpen [sic], and told to stay in its place.”52 However, these interpretations overstate the effect of the line’s personal tonality and defy the syntax of the stanza, which is not sequential: rather, after the subordinate interlude of vv 8b–9 describing the time of the action in 8a, vv 10, 11 by their finite verbs resume the main action of the Sea’s restraint. The second line (11b) of the stanza’s last verse commands the Sea’s “proud waves” to stop. This “pride” language, as will be seen, destabilizes the emphasis on God’s opposition to the Sea. This line as it stands in MT is hardly coherent, though two versions support the verb ‫שׁית‬, ִ to place. One manuscript [‫ ]ב‬of RtgJob translates ‫תשוי‬, “you will place,” 53 and Symmachus with τετάχθω τό ἔπαρμα “the height (of your waves) will be set” (cf. Symmachus Job 24:25 and 37:15, translating the semantically similar ‫)שׂים‬. ִ Other versions indicate a different Vorlage: OG reads συντριβήσεται “it will be broken,” and Vulgate confringes, “you will break.” Some commentators propose prefixed or infixed forms of ‫שׁבר‬, “to break,” to accommodate the latter data, and then must assert that the final ‫ר‬ dropped out, perhaps because of its visual similarity to the following ‫ ב‬in Paleo-Hebrew script. But a simpler hypothesis posits the qal or niphal of ‫שׁבת‬, “to stop,” which OG also renders with συντρίβω (Ezek 6:6). ‫גָּ אוֹן‬, “pride,” is the subject of niphal ‫ שׁבת‬in Ezek 30:18 (cf. also Ezek 7:24 and Isa 11:13). This emendation assumes only a metathesis of final ‫ ת‬and the initial ‫ ב‬on ‫גָּ אוֹן‬. 54 The word ‫ גָּ אוֹן‬literally pertains to height, and some commentators take it in this straightforward sense: God commands the restraint of the Sea’s physically towering, threatening surf.55 Others understand the noun in its common metaphorical meaning of exaltation, majesty. When the word is attributed to God in the Bible, its connotation is positive (cf. Exod 15:7; Isa 24:14; Mic 5:4). But as used with humans, peoples, cities, ‫ גָּ אוֹן‬often refers to 126F

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E. Dhorme, Commentary, 578. Norman C. Habel, The Book of Job: A Commentary (Philadelphia : Westminster Press, 1985), 538. 53 Sally L. Gold, “Understanding the Book of Job: 11Q10, the Peshitta and the Rabbinic Targum: Illustrations From a Synoptic Analysis of Job 37-39.” (DPhil. diss., University of Oxford 2007), 151. 54 RtgJob ‫יתייבשׁ‬, “will dry up,” misreads for some form of Hebrew ‫יבשׁ‬, “to dry up.” 55 E.g., G. Fuchs, Mythos, 200; G. Fohrer, Das Buch Hiob (Güttersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus G. Mohn, 1963), 487. 51 52

GOD AND THE SEA IN JOB 38

501

inordinate glory, unlawful power, and arrogance (cf. Lev 26:19; Jer 13:9; Ezek 16:56; Zech 9:6, etc.). Interpreters usually understand the “pride” of the Sea’s waves in 11b in this second way: in keeping with the Chaoskampf tradition, God checks and names the illegitimate and rival strength of the Sea. However, the weight of ‫ גָּ אוֹן‬in 11b is far more ambiguous, anticipating the ambiguity of God’s attitude towards the two great creatures of the second divine speech. Assuming that ‫ גָּ אוֹן‬bears a penumbra of haughtiness would make it unique in the stanza. Although I have argued that the stanza primarily describes God’s containment of the Sea, nowhere else in vv 8–11 does the poem attribute any moral shortcomings to the Sea – or to any other creatures in the first divine speech. In fact, over against the usual Chaoskampf motif of the Sea as a villainous power, this stanza has pictured it as a newborn infant, effectively neutralizing its moral status. Moreover, the bearing of “pride/height” vocabulary is far from obvious in the divine speeches at large: God does not necessarily condemn the grandness of other beings. 56 The first stanza after the introductory formula in the second divine speech shows God customarily assuming majesty (‫)גָּ אוֹן‬ but abasing the “proud” amongst humankind (‫גֵּ ֶאה‬, 40:11b, 12a). But then the remainder of the second divine speech defies this basic dynamic of God’s opposition to the strength and excellence of possible challengers: the rest of the poem does not portray God humiliating competitors, but celebrating the vast power (even perhaps “pride,” ‫גַּ ֲאוָ ה‬, in 41:7a) of two mythical creatures. In view of this, God’s use of ‫ גָּ אוֹן‬to describe the Sea’s waves probably encompasses their physical greatness – but without a clearly condemnatory tone. In sum, I have argued that the stanza of Job 38:8–11 primarily emphasizes God’s powerful control over the Sea, in continuity with the preceding poetic unit whose theme is God’s singular power and Job’s incommensurability. However, vv 8–11 also begin subtly reframing God’s conventional antagonism towards the Sea, preliminary to the following stanzas and the second divine speech that realize this reimagination more vividly. The stanza affirms God’s antagonistic power over the Sea by fronting a verb of constraint in its first line, looping thematically and grammatically into the previous stanza, and ending with God physically establishing and verbally commanding the Sea’s limitation. The stanza reframes God’s relation to the Sea by recasting the Sea as a helpless newborn, contrasting its rushing out with its containment, depicting God swaddling it, addressing it personally, and anticipating the ambiguous “pride”-language of the second divine speech. 1264F

56 C.

Newsom, Book of Job, 248.

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Jacob Rüdiger Schmitt, DER “HEILIGE KRIEG” IM PENTATEUCH UND IM DEUTERONOMISTISCHEN GESCHICHTSWERK: STUDIEN ZUR FORSCHUNGS-, REZEPTIONS- UND RELIGIONSGESCHICHTE VON KRIEG UND BANN IM ALTEN TESTAMENT (AOAT, 381; Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2011). Pp. xii + 248. Hardback. €65.00. ISBN 978-3-86835-048-7.

Reviewed by Jacob L. Wright Emory University An established tradition of scholarship, bolstered by an influential study of Gerhard von Rad, assumes “holy war” to be a real institution that was firmly anchored in Israel's earliest history. Although most scholars today would reject this assumption, along with the conservative view of Israel’s history upon which it rests, the field has lacked a comprehensive study of the texts that are usually cited in its favor. This is now no longer the case. Rüdiger Schmitt’s monograph examines each of these texts and argues that they owe their commonalities to late redactional activities (Deuteronomistic or post-Deuteronomistic). With M. Weippert, he discards the language of “holy war,” opting to speak instead of the “sacralization of war” in various kinds of texts. The relatively concise study consists of 50 pages of research history and 120 pages treating the war texts from the Enneateuch, followed by 40 pages of reception history and a 10-page conclusion (see the simplified 503

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PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES

version of the Table of Contents reproduced below). That the book favors questions of a theological and ethical nature is undoubtedly related to its origins in a collaborative research project in the theological faculties at Munster, Germany (The research project bore the title “Divine Violence: Analyses of the Images of God in the Hebrew Bible from the Perspective of the History of Religions and Reception History”). In his lengthy research history from the period before WWI to post9/11, Schmitt provides a comprehensive, if also necessarily compendious, overview of studies that either treat “holy war” in the Hebrew Bible or develop alternatives to it. For the period prior to WWI, Schmitt treats the work of Wellhausen, W. R. Smith, Schwally, and Caspari, while for the period between the wars, he discusses the work of Bertholet, Fredriksson, Pedersen, and Weber. This period of scholarship is characterized, according to Schmitt, by a focus on pre-state Israel and views Yhwh as a war-god. In keeping with a predilection for evolutionary constructions, scholarship up to WWII tended to view “holy war” as an archaic mysterious conception that was transcended by the moral universalism of the prophets before it became ossified in Jewish legalism and finally surmounted by the teaching of Jesus. That writings on “holy war” multiplied after WWII is due to the influential work of von Rad. In Der heiliger Krieg im alten Israel,1 one of the most popular books of the early post-war period (it continues to be published today), von Rad transformed the conception of “holy war,” making it compatible with conservative theological developments (Barth and “Neo-orthodoxy”) that emphasized divine revelation and the “word of God.” Schmitt reviews the studies of de Vaux, Smend, Kang, Craigie, Lind, Fohrer, Stolz, Weippert, Jones, and Donner, each of which problematize von Rad’s thesis in different ways and to varying degrees. More recent research has taken various directions. Under the rubric of “sociological models,” Schmitt treats Mendenhall, Gottwald, and Albertz. “Comparative studies” include P. Miller, Weinfeld, Otto, Chapman, Crouch, Baudler, and Flaig. Among the “exegetical and historyof-religions approaches,” Schmitt considers Weimar, Lohfink, Niditch, Lang, and Scherer. With respect to numerous other war studies, Schmitt separates them into biblical-theology oriented works, hermeneutical approaches, studies of religion and violence, and treatments of “holy war” in the ancient Near East and Egypt. The research review is, however, by no means exhaustive, omitting several important studies in French, Hebrew, and English. The heart of the study treats the major war texts of the Enneateuch. Schmitt examines these texts under three general rubrics: Deuteronomistic, Priestly, and others (Gen 14, Exod 15, Num 21:21–32, and 2 Chr 20).

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Because it covers the entire Enneateuch, the treatment of each war text is on average no more than a page in length. Schmitt begins his discussion with the war laws of Deuteronomy. He denies that they are rooted in actual practice and claims that they function to demonstrate the principle of obedience. They should also be appreciated as “counterfactual” or “contra-presentic,” as they offer a hopeful perspective for those in exile. (The term “contra-presentic” is borrowed from Gerd Theissen and Jan Assmann to describe a type of utopian memory as a reaction to the present.) One can debate the merits of this approach, but Schmitt inexplicably does not tell us why the biblical authors developed these particular kinds of counterfactual laws. How do, e.g., laws related to the mustering of a militia (Deut 20:5–8) give hope to the postexilic community? Admittedly, such laws cannot be applied when Israel no longer had the possibility of engaging in its own wars, but what is the distinct intent of the counterfactual character of Deuteronomy’s laws of war in comparison to its other “utopian” laws? Schmitt tends to argue for an exilic or postexilic dating of texts, while also taking issue with those who see any humanizing intentions behind the laws. For example, he views the law of the female captive (Deut 21:10–14) as a supplement to the laws in chap. 20 and dates it to the postexilic period. The law lacks any humanism, as it does not forbid sexual exploitation or enslavement of the captive (One would like to know how Schmitt interprets 20:14!). Finally, because it was not possible in the postexilic period to go to war and take captives, the law is said to be about the integration of female slaves. Schmitt leaves unanswered the question as to why the biblical authors needed to disguise their instructions under a war law. With respect to Deut 1–3, Schmitt describes this text as a counterfactual fiction that emerged in the postexilic period. Its demand for the creation of a tabula rasa has nothing to do with Josianic politics; instead, it reflects postexilic conflicts with Arab (!) neighbors. The contra-presentic construction of military conquest is an expression of hope for the end of the exile and compensation for powerlessness. The Deuteronomistic war speeches (7:1–26; 9:1–8, 22–24; 11:22–25; 20:2–4; 31:1–8; Josh 1:1–9) articulate the importance of strict Law observance as the basis for possession of the land. The waging of war and the execution of the ḥērem is thereby “merely a metaphor” for obedience to the Law. Turning to the Deuteronomistic texts elsewhere in the Pentateuch, Schmitt discusses the non-Priestly layer of Exod 14 as well as Exod 17:8– 16, 23:20–33; Num 13–14, 21:1–3, 33–35, most of which he dates to the exilic or postexilic period. While each of these texts has its individual accent, they all have a common character: they are primarily

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PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES

Gesetzestheologie (theology of the Law) and not Kriegstheologie (war theology). Observance of the Law is the precondition for possession of the land, and execution of the ḥērem is the decisive criterion. The same applies for the war texts in Josh 6–12. They are all essentially about obedience to the Law. War serves primarily as a way of conceptualizing the principle of absolute fidelity to the Law, with the situations in which ḥērem must be executed as a status confessionis. If war is incidental, serving as background or a stage for the main actors, it follows that Yhwh could give Israel its land without any human involvement. Not surprisingly, Schmitt addresses this issue at many points in his discussion. Joshua 6–12, like many other Deuteronomistic battle accounts, sets forth a synergistic theology by depicting Israel fighting with Yhwh. In contrast, the episode with the “captain of Yhwh’s host” in 5:13–15 (see also his discussion of 2 Chr 20) relativizes this synergism, attributing the victories depicted in the following narratives not to Joshua’s military prowess but rather to the power of the heavenly hosts (as R. Nelson argues2). This claim is however difficult to accept since Joshua still does the fighting in the narrative; a more tenable conclusion is that the supplement affirms the participation of the divine host. With respect to Judges, Samuel, and Kings, Schmitt argues that these books comprise with Joshua pieces of the Deuteronomistic History. However, their authors could no longer use ḥērem as the “measuring rod” because it was confined to the period of the conquest under the leadership of Joshua. Hence, they replaced it with other criteria. Yet one of the biggest problems for the Deuteronomistic History thesis is not the relationship of Judges to Joshua but rather Judges to Samuel–Kings: As I have argued elsewhere, war in Judges occurs as punishment for the people’s sin, while the narratives of Samuel portray war erupting naturally until the Saul and David bring peace.[3] Accordingly, Judges stands in sharp contrast to Samuel–Kings. Schmitt discusses my study that formulates this argument but does not offer a response to its central argument. Nevertheless, he does seem to allow for the possibility of “a small Deuteronomistic History” in Samuel–Kings (see the section title on p. 146). Turning to the Priestly texts, Schmitt discusses Exod 14, Num 31 (at length), and some texts in Joshua. What these texts have in common is a “hierarchical conceptualization of war with special emphasis on the role of priests” as well as a concern with matters of ritual purity. The paucity of Priestly war texts is due not to the putative pacifism of the Priestly circles (as Lohfink and others have argued with respect to the emphasis on the P miracle in Ex 14) but rather to their interest in questions of cult and ritual authority.

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By claiming that the primary purpose of the Bible’s war texts is to articulate theological principles, Schmitt stands in direct continuity with early Christian writings (see e.g. Jas 2:25). This approach may serve the needs of some theological constructions, but in my view it fails to account fully for the centrality of war in these biblical texts. Political communities tend to negotiate belonging vis-à-vis war memories. The fact that war figures prominently in the Hebrew Bible while appearing only on the periphery of the New Testament must be related to the very different collective identities these literatures seek to construct: in the former, a territorially oriented people, and in the latter, a transnational deterritorialized religious community. In many cases, one has the impression that Schmitt’s focus on the “sacral” aspects of war in the texts he studies may have caused him to miss more basic meanings. Thus, Abraham’s victory in Gen 14 is said to be the confirmation of the divine approbation in Gen 13 that then culminates in the reward of the covenant in Gen 15. By focusing on the “indirect sacralization of war” in this text, he overlooks the primary theme of Abraham’s solidarity with the inhabitants of the land—a primary theme of Genesis that distinguishes it from Exodus–Kings. Just as Abraham allows Lot to choose the best land and argues with the deity over the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah, he goes to war for these neighbors and later waives his right to the war spoils. In return for his goodness, Yhwh promises to be his great reward (Gen 15:1). In the rest of the book, Schmitt treats various witnesses to the reception history of the biblical war traditions. For the period of the Crusades, he examines the writings of Bernhard of Clairvaux and William of Tyre as well as works of Middle Latin poetry. For the Reformation and Peasants’ War, he treats the polemic works of Martin Luther, Ulrich Zwingli, Jean Calvin, and Thomas Müntzer. For the post-Reformation period, he focuses on Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, who led his nation to supremacy during the Thirty Years War and presented himself as Gideon reincarnate. From here Schmitt moves to the WWI and the works of Gunkel, Eißfeldt, and Bertholet, before finally treating the case of Johannes Hempel from the Third Reich. He helpfully identifies seven ways in which the biblical texts were interpreted in these writings: 1) prefiguration; 2) allegory of spiritual warfare; 3) literal instructions for warfare; 4) identification with biblical figures; 5) identification with biblical Israel; 6) identification with historical Israel; and 7) emphasis of differences to Israel. An overview of “holy war” in European history would have been valuable for readers of Schmitt’s study. In Greece a number of “holy wars” were fought by amphictyonies in defense of Delphi (600–590, 448, 355– 346, 339–338 BCE). While the Roman Empire conducted their wars with

508

PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES

many religious rituals and cultic aspects, most scholars would not apply the term “holy war” to them. This changed with Constantine the Great, as war became a means to spread Christianity. Drawing on Christian writings from the time of Constantine, theologies of “holy war” continued into Late Antiquity and the early Middle Ages. Their authors paved the way theologically for the Crusades and the wars of religion in the Early Modern period. The ideology and rhetoric of “holy war” subsided considerably after the Peace of Westphalia and through the humanistic influence of writers like Hugo Grotius. War became now a controlled and rational game. This period ended abruptly in the Romantic period—specifically, in reaction to Napoleon’s conquests. In Russia among representatives of the Orthodox Church and especially in Germany among nationalistic thinkers such Jahn and Arndt, the wars of liberation were identified explicitly as “holy wars.” During WWI, “holy war” assumed even greater significance. Ideologies expressed in the popular genre of war-sermons identified everything as “holy”—blood, time, earth, nation, weapons, and war. This rhetoric shifted in many ways after WWI, but it remained a constant in religious circles of the Third Reich. Even though the history that I have presented here may need revision on certain points, it reveals how the rhetoric and ideology of “holy war” re-emerged in 19th and early 20th century Germany, precisely at the time the leading German scholars of Old Testament were writing their most influential works. In selecting cases to study in his reception history, Schmitt appears to have looked for European rulers and thinkers who used the biblical texts to sanction excessive violence. While this aspect undoubtedly deserves attention, one should not forget that the biblical war texts were often used for more salutary purposes, namely as the basis for reflection on political organization and monarchic authority. Indeed, Hobbes, Rousseau, and many other great European thinkers produced their most influential works by deeply engaging key war texts from the Bible. Their findings beckon to be studied not only by political theorists but also by biblical scholars, especially as they have shaped the intellectual contexts in which critical biblical scholarship emerged. That such has yet happen to any appreciable extent is understandable, given that much of Old Testament research has been and continues to be conducted in schools of theology and departments of religion, where matters of violence and ethics receive much more attention than questions of political organization. But even within these institutional contexts, biblical scholars can profitably contribute to and benefit from more engagement with political theory. Schmitt’s study does the field a great service by bringing together a range of interesting material on a tradition that has endured for more than three millennia. While I often found myself disagreeing with his

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interpretations, I—and many others who work on war in ancient Israel— will want to keep this book nearby for frequent consultation.

APPENDIX: TABLE OF CONTENTS - CHAPTERS AND SECTIONS Kapitel 1—Forschungsgeschichte: Die Konzeptionen von “Heiligem Krieg” und “Jahwe-Krieg” in der alttestamentlichen Forschung • Die Theoriebildung bis zum Ersten Weltkrieg • Der Gang der Diskussion bis zum Ende des Zweiten Weltkriegs • Die Theoriebildung in der Zeit nach dem Zweiten Weltkrieg • Neuere Theoriebildungen zum Heiligen Krieg • Der “heilige” bzw. sakrale Krieg in der Altorientalistik • Der “heilige” bzw. sakrale Krieg in der Ägyptologie • Zum Ansatz der vorliegenden Arbeit Kapitel 2—Sakralisierung des Krieges in der deuteronomistischen Traditionsbildung • Sakralisierung des Krieges im Buch Deuteronomium • Sakralisierung des Krieges in der deuteronomistischen Traditionsbildung in den Büchern Exodus und Numeri • Sakralisierung des Krieges in den Landnahmeerzählungen des Buches Josua (Jos 1–12) • Sakralisierung des Krieges im Buch der Richter • Sakralisierung des Krieges in Büchern Samuelis und der Könige • Zusammenfassend zur sakralisierung des Krieges im “kleinen” Deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerk (1 Sam–2 Kön) Kapitel 3—Sakralisierung des Krieges in der priesterschriftlichen Traditionsbildung • Ex 14: Die priesterschriftliche Meerwundererzählung • Num 31: Der Midianiterkrieg

510

PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES • •

Das priesterliche Material im Josuabuch Zusammenfassend zu den priesterschriftlichen Kriegstexten Kapitel 4—Sakralisierung des Krieges außerhalb der deuteronomischdeuteronomistischen und priesterlichen Traditionsbildung • Gen 14: Abrahams Sieg über Kedor-Leomer • Ex 15,1–21: Das Schilfmeerlied • Num 21,21–31: Sieg über Sihon von Heschbon und über Jahas Num 21,32 • Ausblick: Sakralisierung des Krieges im Buch der Chronik anhand von 2 Chr 20 Kapitel 5—Die Rezeption der biblischen Exodus- und Landnahmetraditionen in kriegerischen Auseinandersetzungen vom Mittelalter bis zur Neuzeit • Die Zeit der Kreuzzüge • Reformation und Bauernkriege • “Verzage nicht, du Häuflein klein!”—Gustav II. Adolf als neuer Gideon • Der Erste Weltkrieg: Der “Heilige Krieg” in Arbeiten deutscher Alttestamentler im Ersten Weltkrieg-Hermann Gunkel, Otto Eißfeldt und Alfred Bertholet • Umkehrung der Vorzeichen: Johannes Hempel und das Alte Testament • Zusammenfassung: Rezeptionsmuster des “Heiligen Krieges” vom Mittelalter bis zum Dritten Reich Kapitel 6—Zusammenfassung und abschließende Überlegungen • Die biblischen Kriegstexte, ihre religionsgeschichtliche Einordnung und ihre Rezeption • Zur Terminologie: Jahwe-Krieg, Heiliger Krieg, Sakralisierung des Krieges • Zum Gewaltpotential des Monotheismus ATANT, 20; Zurich: Zwingli-Verlag, 1951. R.D. Nelson, Joshua: A Commentary (OTL; Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1997), 83. 3 “Military Valor and Kingship: A Book-Oriented Approach to the Study of a 1 2

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Major War Theme,” in Writing and Reading War: Rhetoric, Gender, and Ethics in Biblical and Modern Contexts (ed. B.E. Kelle and F.R. Ames; SBLSymS, 42; Atlanta: SBL, 2008), 33–56.

Anne Moore, MOVING BEYOND SYMBOL AND MYTH: UNDERSTANDING THE KINGSHIP OF GOD OF THE HEBREW BIBLE THROUGH METAPHOR (Studies in Biblical Literature, 99; New York: Peter Lang, 2009). Pp. xiv + 332. Hardcover. €54.10. US$83.95. ISBN 978-0-8204-8661-1.

Reviewed by Beth M. Stovell St. Thomas University, Miami Gardens FL Moving Beyond Symbol and Myth: Understanding the Kingship of God of the Hebrew Bible through Metaphor is a revision of Moore’s dissertation at

the Claremont Graduate University School of Religion, originally written in 2004. As Moore’s title suggests, the goal of this work is to rethink the conceptualization of the metaphor of the kingship of God as depicted in the Hebrew Bible. While Moore primarily examines the Hebrew Bible and its interpretations in the Second Temple period, the goals for her study are more centred on the discovery of Christian origins, specifically unearthing the foundations for the depiction of the kingdom of God in Jesus’ teaching. Moore’s work challenges prior classifications and explanations of the kingdom of God in New Testament scholarship by scholars such as Johannes Weiss, C. H. Dodd, Gustaf Dalman, and Norman Perrin among others.1 She chiefly deconstructs the work of Perrin, critiquing specifically Perrin’s misuse of scholarship concerning the metaphor of “God is king” in the Hebrew Bible in terms of his methodology, his use of sources, and his understanding of metaphor. Using a cognitive theory of metaphor developed along the lines of George Lakoff and Mark Johnson,2 Moore asserts that “the ‘God is King’ metaphor is a relational metaphor within the Hebrew Bible” that is “produced by the different interactions of the semantic fields of God and kingship” (p. 4). She sees this Divine kingship metaphor as having “three relational spheres: God as covenantal sovereign of Israel, God as universal suzerain over the world, and God as monarch of the disadvantaged” (p. 4). She then traces these three metaphorical

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Major War Theme,” in Writing and Reading War: Rhetoric, Gender, and Ethics in Biblical and Modern Contexts (ed. B.E. Kelle and F.R. Ames; SBLSymS, 42; Atlanta: SBL, 2008), 33–56.

Anne Moore, MOVING BEYOND SYMBOL AND MYTH: UNDERSTANDING THE KINGSHIP OF GOD OF THE HEBREW BIBLE THROUGH METAPHOR (Studies in Biblical Literature, 99; New York: Peter Lang, 2009). Pp. xiv + 332. Hardcover. €54.10. US$83.95. ISBN 978-0-8204-8661-1.

Reviewed by Beth M. Stovell St. Thomas University, Miami Gardens FL Moving Beyond Symbol and Myth: Understanding the Kingship of God of the Hebrew Bible through Metaphor is a revision of Moore’s dissertation at

the Claremont Graduate University School of Religion, originally written in 2004. As Moore’s title suggests, the goal of this work is to rethink the conceptualization of the metaphor of the kingship of God as depicted in the Hebrew Bible. While Moore primarily examines the Hebrew Bible and its interpretations in the Second Temple period, the goals for her study are more centred on the discovery of Christian origins, specifically unearthing the foundations for the depiction of the kingdom of God in Jesus’ teaching. Moore’s work challenges prior classifications and explanations of the kingdom of God in New Testament scholarship by scholars such as Johannes Weiss, C. H. Dodd, Gustaf Dalman, and Norman Perrin among others.1 She chiefly deconstructs the work of Perrin, critiquing specifically Perrin’s misuse of scholarship concerning the metaphor of “God is king” in the Hebrew Bible in terms of his methodology, his use of sources, and his understanding of metaphor. Using a cognitive theory of metaphor developed along the lines of George Lakoff and Mark Johnson,2 Moore asserts that “the ‘God is King’ metaphor is a relational metaphor within the Hebrew Bible” that is “produced by the different interactions of the semantic fields of God and kingship” (p. 4). She sees this Divine kingship metaphor as having “three relational spheres: God as covenantal sovereign of Israel, God as universal suzerain over the world, and God as monarch of the disadvantaged” (p. 4). She then traces these three metaphorical

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PERSPECTIVES ON HEBREW SCRIPTURES

relational spheres as they are re-interpreted in the literature of the Second Temple period and, then, specifically in “the sayings of the historical Jesus” (p. 5). In the first chapter Moore begins her book in the typical fashion of a dissertation thesis by examining the past research in the field. After discussing the currents of scholarship regarding the kingdom of God, Moore points to the continuing legacy of Perrin, identifies five problems associated with Perrin's classification of the kingdom of God as a symbol and suggests possible solutions.3 First, Perrin’s argument that the kingdom of God underwent a shift from a myth-evoking symbol prior to the Second Temple period to a static symbol referencing a final eschatological event is countered by Moore through an identification of the diversity of descriptions of the kingdom of God in the literature of the Second Temple period. Second, Perrin’s inadequate methodology based on Wheelright and Ricoeur causes Perrin to misunderstand how the metaphor of God’s kingship works in a wide diversity of texts, which Moore counters with her use of conceptual metaphor theory in the tradition of Lakoff and Johnson to provide greater methodological clarity.4 Third, Moore critiques Perrin’s collapse of all of God’s activity under the symbol of God’s kingship as “obscur[ing] the diversity of expression within Judaism” (p. 3). Instead Moore provides a careful examination of the metaphor of “God is king” that moves diachronically from pre-exilic to post-exilic texts, identifying both the commonality of these depictions and their distinctions. Fourth, Perrin’s use of “literary-critical” analysis follows a history of religion school’s theory about the evolution of Judaism rather than a diachronic analysis of the history of the texts that considers literary elements such as “genre, form, and technique” (p. 3). Moore’s approach aims to correct this through a more-careful literary analysis of the individual texts with a diachronic awareness. Fifth, Moore traces the recent developments of cognitive theory since Perrin’s work. This discussion leads to Moore’s second chapter. Chapter two of Moore’s work provides both a brief history of metaphor theory and establishes her methodology for the remainder of her book. Moore uses the conceptual metaphor theory of Lakoff and Johnson as a means of providing greater methodological clarity to the metaphor of “God is king.” Moore’s work builds on the work of Marc Zvi Brettler on the kingship of God,5 which creates “an initial database for consideration” for Moore’s work (p. 64). However, following Gary V. Smith, Moore criticises the lack of clarity and helpfulness of Brettler’s section on “The King and Domestic Affairs,” and the lack of thorough analysis of particular texts (pp. 63–64).6 Moore corrects this problem through her own textual analysis of individual texts throughout her study. Chapters 3–6 follow the

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development of the metaphor diachronically from the pre-exilic text of Isaiah 6 in chapter three to the exilic texts (Exodus 15, 19, Numbers 23, and 1 Samuel 8, 12) in chapter four, to exilic and post-exilic prophetic texts in chapters five and six. Due to the complicated issues of dating the psalms, in chapter seven Moore studies the “latest redacted layer of the texts,” dating most of the psalms to exilic and post-exilic stages but reading the psalms in relation to one another throughout the chapter and focusing on literary genre as the means of reading the psalms alongside one another. Chapter eight functions as a conclusion, demonstrating Moore’s overarching argument and suggesting what her argument means for the study of Christian Origins. Moore’s work reflects one of the recent trends in biblical studies, namely the rising interest and use of metaphor theories from the field of cognitive linguistics. Those using such cognitive metaphor theories within the studies of the Hebrew Bible include Claudia Bergmann, Sarah Dille, Marc Zvi Brettler, Pierre van Hecke, Elizabeth R. Hayes, William P. Brown, Ellen Van Wolde, Zacharias Kotzé, and Christo van der Merwe,7 and within studies of the New Testament include Nijay K. Gupta, Martin Ramey, Erik Konsmo, Reidar Aasgaard, Jacobus Liebenberg, Bonnie Howe, Jesper Tang Nielsen, and Ruben Zimmermann.8 Moore’s use of conceptual metaphor theory in her work allows for methodological clarity and precision in determining the extent and diversity of the metaphor of God’s kingship in the Hebrew Bible. This analysis also leads to new insight, including the awareness of the relational quality of God’s kingship as it is depicted in the Hebrew Bible. Another example of insight is Moore’s awareness of the often-overlooked depiction of God’s role as king of the disadvantaged. As Moore explains, “Yahweh [is] the compassionate and just monarch upon whom the disadvantaged and the oppressed may depend for their needs and for the resolution of their situation” (p. 270). Moore suggests that Psalm 146 “acts almost as a summary for the various understandings of the “God is king” metaphor” and provides Psalms 5, 22, 68, 102, 103, 145, and 146 as examples of the image of Yahweh as “compassionate monarch of the disadvantaged” (pp. 268–70). However, while Moore’s work follows this growing trend through her use of the conceptual metaphor theory of Lakoff and Johnson, she does not appear to be aware herself of the advances upon this model since the original publication of Lakoff and Johnson’s Metaphors We Live By in 1980 or of the recent developments of cognitive blending theories of metaphor developed by scholars like Mark Turner and Gilles Fauconnier that build on Lakoff and Johnson’s theories.9 Nor does Moore appear to be aware of Lakoff’s continuing use of his metaphorical theory in the political

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realm.10 Examination and use of all three of these developments might prove helpful for clarifying and extending Moore’s own examination and for future examinations of the metaphor of God’s kingship by other scholars building on Moore’s analysis. Because Moore’s work does not reflect the advancements of conceptual blending theories of metaphor, her work often lacks an evaluation of the blending of the metaphorical entailments of kingship. While in comparison to Brettler’s individualisation of each entailment of kingship, Moore’s work examines how these metaphors work in whole passages (pp. 61–64). Yet Moore’s work at times also struggles with the interplay of metaphors, assuming for example, that one metaphor must supersede another or that the kingship metaphor must be non-existent because another potentially competing metaphor exists. For example, Moore sees the Divine Shepherd metaphor when used with the Divine King to be at odds with Divine Warrior metaphor, yet this overlooks the power of conceptual blending through the use of “mixed” metaphors (pp. 122–123).11 These weaknesses aside, Moore’s work provides a helpful introduction to the metaphor of God’s kingship in the Hebrew Bible and suggests an important and potentially revolutionary change to the way the kingdom of God is understood within New Testament studies. While Moore’s work could be more encompassing in its awareness of the interweaving of metaphors, her analysis of the metaphor of God as king is both thorough and helpful to the novice and scholar alike. While Moore’s metaphorical theory could provide an initial reworking of many scholars’ understandings of how metaphor functions, Moore’s clear and precise writing style does not make her approach overly taxing to read, but rather often enjoyable and even moving at times. While the cost of this volume may make it difficult for many to include on their shelves, this book is recommended for those who have a scholarly interest in the workings of metaphor in the Hebrew Bible or who have an interest in the metaphor of the kingdom of God in the New Testament. It also marks a necessary advancement upon previous studies in the kingdom of God and its impact on Christian Origins. 1 J. Weiss, Jesus’ Proclamation of the Kingdom of God (trans. R. H. Hiers and D. L. Holland; orig. Die Predigt Jesu vom Reiches Gottes, 1892; repr., Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1971); C. H. Dodd, Parables of the Kingdom (Digswell Place: Nisbet., 1935, repr. 1961); G. Dalman, The Words of Jesus: Considered in Light of Post-Biblical Jewish Writings and Aramaic Language (trans D. M. Kay; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1902); N. Perrin, The Kingdom of God in the Teaching of Jesus (NTL; Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1963).

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2 G. Lakoff and M. Johnson, Metaphors We Live By (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980). 3 Perrin, The Kingdom of God. 4 P. Wheelwright, Metaphor and Reality (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1962); P. Ricoeur, The Symbolism of Evil (trans. E. Buchanan; New York: Harper and Row, 1967); Lakoff and Johnson, Metaphors We Live By. 5 M. Z. Brettler, God Is King: Understanding an Israelite Metaphor (JSOTSup, 76; Sheffield, England: JSOT Press, 1989). 6 For Smith’s critique, see G. V. Smith, “God Is King: Understanding an Israelite Metaphor,” HS 32 (1991), 81. 7 C. D. Bergmann, Childbirth as a Metaphor for Crisis: Evidence from the Ancient Near East, the Hebrew Bible, and 1QH XI 1–18 (BZAW, 382; Berlin/New York: de Gruyter, 2008); S. Dille, Mixing Metaphors: God as Mother and Father in Deutero-Isaiah (London: T & T Clark, 2004); Brettler, God Is King; P. van Hecke, Metaphor in the Hebrew Bible (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2005); E. R. Hayes, The Pragmatics of Perception and Cognition in MT Jeremiah 1:1–6:30: A Cognitive Linguistics Approach (BZAW, 380; Berlin/New York: de Gruyter, 2008); W. P. Brown, Seeing the Psalms: A Theology of Metaphor (Louisville, Ky.: Westminster John Knox Press, 2002); E. J. van Wolde, Job 28: Cognition in Context (Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2003); E. J. van Wolde, Reframing Biblical Studies: When Language and Text Meet Culture, Cognition, and Context (Winona Lake, Ill.: Eisenbrauns, 2009); Z. Kotzé, “A Cognitive Linguistic Approach to the Emotion of Anger in the Old Testament,” HvTSt 60 (2004), 843863; Z. Kotzé, “Metaphors and Metonymies for Anger in the Old Testament: A Cognitive Linguistic Approach,” Scriptura 88 (2005), 18-25; C. H. J. van der Merwe, “A Cognitive Linguistic Perspective on Hinneh in the Pentateuch, Joshua, Judges, and Ruth,” HS 48 (2007), 101-140; C. H. J. van der Merwe, “Biblical Exegesis, Cognitive Linguistics and Hypertext,” A. Lemaire (ed.), Congress Volume Leiden 2004 (VTSup, 109; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2006), 255–280. 8 N. K. Gupta, Worship That Makes Sense to Paul: A New Approach to the Theology and Ethics of Paul's Cultic Metaphors (BZNW, 175; Berlin/New York: de Gruyter, 2010); J. Liebenberg, The Language of the Kingdom and Jesus: Parable, Aphorism, and Metaphor in the Sayings Material Common to the Synoptic Tradition and the Gospel of Thomas (BZNW, 102; Berlin/New York: de Gruyter, 2001); B. Howe, Because You Bear This Name: Conceptual Metaphor and the Moral Meaning of 1 Peter (Biblical Interpretation Studies, 81; Leiden: Brill, 2006); J. T. Nielsen, “The Lamb of God: The Cognitive Structure of Johannine Metaphor,” J. Frey, J. G. Van der Watt, G. Kern, and R. Zimmerman (eds.), Imagery in the Gospel of John: Terms, Forms, Themes, and Theology of Johannine Figurative Language (WUNT, 200; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006); R. Zimmermann, “‘Du Wirst noch Größeres Sehen…’ (Joh 1,50). Zur Ästhetik und Hermeneutik der Christusbilder im Johannesevangelium—Eine Skizze,” Metaphorik und Christologie (Theologische Bibliothek Töpelmann, 120; Berlin/New York: de Gruyter, 2003); R. Zimmermann, “Paradigmen Einer Metaphorischen Christologie.

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Eine Leseanleitung,” J. Frey, J. Rohls, and R. Zimmerman (eds.), Metaphorik und Christologie (Theologische Bibliothek Töpelmann, 120; Berlin/New York: de Gruyter, 2003); R. Zimmermann, Christologie der Bilder im Johannesevangelium: Die Christopoetik des Vierten Evangeliums unter Besonderer Berücksichtigung von Joh 10 (WUNT, 171; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004). 9 For example, G. Fauconnier and M. Turner, The Way We Think (New York: Basic Books, 2002). 10 Lakoff's political works include G. Lakoff, Moral Politics: How Liberals and Conservatives Think (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2002); G. Lakoff, Don’t Think of an Elephant!: Know Your Values and Frame the Debate: The Essential Guide for Progressives (White River Junction, Vt.: Chelsea Green, 2004); G. Lakoff, Whose Freedom?: The Battle over America’s Most Important Idea (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2006); G. Lakoff, The Political Mind: Why You Can't Understand 21st-Century Politics with an 18th-Century Brain (New York: Viking, 2008). 11 The lack of integration and explanation of the Divine Warrior in relationship to the Divine King is a critique that P. Miller also levels against Brettler. See P. D. Miller, “God Is King: Understanding an Israelite Metaphor,” JBL 111 (1992), 120122 (122).

Adolfo D. Roitman, BIBLIA, EXÉGESIS Y RELIGIÓN: UNA LECTURA CRÍTICO-HISTÓRICA DEL JUDAÍSMO (Estella, Navarra: Editorial Verbo Divino, 2010). Pp. 308. Hardback. ISBN 978-84-9945-100-8. € 24.50. 1.

Reviewed by Natalio Fernández Marcos Centro de Ciencias Humanas y Sociales. CSIC, Madrid Adolfo Roitman is a well-known biblical scholar born in Buenos Aires who earned a doctorate in ancient Jewish Literature and Thought by the Hebrew University; since 1994 he has been Curator and Director of the Shrine of the Book at the Israel Museum of Jerusalem. This book collects a series of revised articles published in the Israeli weekly magazine Aurora between 2007 and 2009 that serves as a kind of commentary to the sections of the Torah read weekly in the synagogue. Roitman’s aim in this book is to introduce the readers to the complex world of the Hebrew Bible by means of a thorough analysis of the social,

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Eine Leseanleitung,” J. Frey, J. Rohls, and R. Zimmerman (eds.), Metaphorik und Christologie (Theologische Bibliothek Töpelmann, 120; Berlin/New York: de Gruyter, 2003); R. Zimmermann, Christologie der Bilder im Johannesevangelium: Die Christopoetik des Vierten Evangeliums unter Besonderer Berücksichtigung von Joh 10 (WUNT, 171; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004). 9 For example, G. Fauconnier and M. Turner, The Way We Think (New York: Basic Books, 2002). 10 Lakoff's political works include G. Lakoff, Moral Politics: How Liberals and Conservatives Think (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2002); G. Lakoff, Don’t Think of an Elephant!: Know Your Values and Frame the Debate: The Essential Guide for Progressives (White River Junction, Vt.: Chelsea Green, 2004); G. Lakoff, Whose Freedom?: The Battle over America’s Most Important Idea (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2006); G. Lakoff, The Political Mind: Why You Can't Understand 21st-Century Politics with an 18th-Century Brain (New York: Viking, 2008). 11 The lack of integration and explanation of the Divine Warrior in relationship to the Divine King is a critique that P. Miller also levels against Brettler. See P. D. Miller, “God Is King: Understanding an Israelite Metaphor,” JBL 111 (1992), 120122 (122).

Adolfo D. Roitman, BIBLIA, EXÉGESIS Y RELIGIÓN: UNA LECTURA CRÍTICO-HISTÓRICA DEL JUDAÍSMO (Estella, Navarra: Editorial Verbo Divino, 2010). Pp. 308. Hardback. ISBN 978-84-9945-100-8. € 24.50. 1.

Reviewed by Natalio Fernández Marcos Centro de Ciencias Humanas y Sociales. CSIC, Madrid Adolfo Roitman is a well-known biblical scholar born in Buenos Aires who earned a doctorate in ancient Jewish Literature and Thought by the Hebrew University; since 1994 he has been Curator and Director of the Shrine of the Book at the Israel Museum of Jerusalem. This book collects a series of revised articles published in the Israeli weekly magazine Aurora between 2007 and 2009 that serves as a kind of commentary to the sections of the Torah read weekly in the synagogue. Roitman’s aim in this book is to introduce the readers to the complex world of the Hebrew Bible by means of a thorough analysis of the social,

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politic, and religious reality of Israel in antiquity and to do so in a colloquial and current Spanish. The book is addressed to both Jews and Christians who are not experts in biblical studies, and it furthers free thinking among the readers, discovery and tolerance of the “Other,” and interreligious dialogue. The volume is divided into three sections. The first is devoted to prominent biblical figures or personalities emphasizing the reception of such figures in the Judaeo-Christian tradition. This part reminds me of the reflections on Adam, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, or Job in Elie Wiesel’s Messengers of God 1. The second section is devoted to various questions concerning the Pentateuch. It takes into account historical-critical methods and explores the diffuse boundaries between history and myth. The third section is devoted to the religious revolution of Deuteronomy. Roitman’s main text is accompanied by some footnotes that clarify and support his statements, seven illustrations, a brief epilogue, a glossary of concepts and technical terms, and a full bibliography. The book is written in fluent Spanish and offers a pleasant reading. The book has been carefully prepared and I have found no egregious errors or printer’s mistakes. I heartily congratulate both the author and Verbo Divino press. Roitman is highly attuned to both the texts of the Hebrew Bible and the last discoveries of the Judaean Desert. His critical approach prevents fundamentalist and anachronistic readings of the Bible. The historical dimension of his study helps the reader discover the ability of biblical figures to be transformed in new contexts. Jews and Christians for centuries have not only tried to solve textual and interpretative problems, but they also engaged in their exegesis to construct their own religious identities. In many cases Jewish and Christian traditions intertwined and illuminated each other, as they shared a common origin. The publication of this book by a Jewish author by a Catholic publishing house is the best witness that the “brothers” can attain many common goals through their different identities and traditions. However, in this conversation, I miss the Septuagint, which might function as a further link to build a bridge between the traditions. Taking the figure of Abraham as an example, Roitman describes the features of his personality as presented in Genesis; he then traces the improvement and idealization of his figure in Genesis Apocryphon and Jubilees. He notes how Abraham was transformed by Hellenistic writers from a biblical patriarch and pious man of faith into a Greek philosopher. I miss here references to Jewish-Hellenistic writers other than Josephus (Jewish Antiquities), such as Demetrius, Eupolemus, and Artapanus.2 In spite of being preserved only in fragments, the latter attest to a new rewriting of the history of Israel in the Hellenistic period. Several recent

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studies have been published on Moses, Joseph, and the patriarchs in this period as well. I agree with Roitman that, in contrast with the heroes of other ancient literatures, the nobility of biblical figures consists in their being normal persons who struggle to overcome their own weaknesses and limitations. The human side of these figures was a constant source of inspiration for future generations who reread these ancestral texts. Only two women are included in the list of biblical figures studied by Roitman: Rachel the matriarch and Jacob’s daughter Dinah. The various chapters constitute a kind of critical sacred history followed by its survival in Judaism. They attest to the dynamism and richness of the Bible not only in its text but also in its characters, archetypes, and narratives, which were constantly rewritten and reinterpreted as prototypes for the successive generations. Roitman presents the biblical paradoxes or the most embarrassing scenes of violence and cruelty, and examines afterwards how these passages have been received and interpreted in the Jewish postbiblical tradition, occasionally until the present time. The second section of the volume deals with matters such as the Flood, Isaac’s sacrifice, the Exodus and its wonders, the giants, and sacred war. Roitman reviews the different scholarly positions ranging from minimalists to maximalists and pronounces a balanced judgement on the different hypotheses. He emphasizes that already in antiquity there were multiple positions and differences between the literal interpretation of the pious men (midrash) and the rationalistic explanation of Flavius Josephus (p.143). The third section addresses the spiritual revolution of Deuteronomy. Roitman deals with some controversial themes such as Israel’s monotheism or monolatry, Jewish aniconism, the goddess Asherah as possible consort of Yahweh, the centralization of the cult, the institution of the book in Israel, and the problem of the ethnocentric ideology in Deuteronomy. However, the final commentary (p. 265) does not clarify the dangers associated with considering oneself the elected people among the other nations. In brief it is a serious and readable book, written for a wide range of educated readers who desire a better understanding of the roots common both to Jews and Christians that are among the roots of Western civilization. New York: Random House, 1976. Cf. N. Fernández Marcos, “Interpretaciones helenísticas del pasado de Israel,” Cuadernos de Filología Clásica 8 (1975), 157–86. 1 2

Rachelle Gilmour, REPRESENTING THE PAST: A LITERARY ANALYSIS OF NARRATIVE HISTORIOGRAPHY IN THE BOOK OF SAMUEL (VTSup, 143; Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2011). Pp. xii + 333. Hardback. €121.00. $166.00. ISBN 978-90-04-20340-2.

Reviewed by Dan Pioske Princeton Theological Seminary Representing the Past comprises a revision of Rachelle Gilmour’s dissertation presented to the University of Sydney in 2010. Written under the supervision of Ian Young and Noel Weeks, the express intent of the work is to investigate “how to read the text of Samuel as ancient historiography” (p. 4) through an approach that is attentive to “literary devices that convey the characteristics of history writing” (p. 3) within the Masoretic Text of the ancient book. Accordingly, the aim of Gilmour’s study is not to enter into debates surrounding the historicity of those events recorded in Samuel, but rather to provide a literary analysis of the work that is sensitive to its techniques for depicting the past and communicating its significance. Gilmour’s investigation runs six chapters, with an introduction, conclusion, and four chapters devoted to certain aspects of Samue’'s narrative that, Gilmour contends, parallel important features of modern history writing: the attribution of causation in history, discussion of the past’s meaning and significance, the ideological evaluation of events by the storyteller, and the coherence of a work. Along with a bibliography, Gilmour’s study is concluded by helpful author, scripture, and subject indices. The introductory chapter to Gilmour’s investigation provides the theoretical foundation for her subsequent literary analysis. Announcing a prominent theme that will run throughout her investigation, Gilmour argues that the book of Samuel provides a form of narrative historiography that is both similar and dissimilar to “modern” efforts at history writing. Though Samuel’s historiography contains “literary devices and embellishments unimaginable in a modern work” (p. 1), Samuel’s utilization of narrative to portray, analyze, and explain a past finds accord, Gilmour 519

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notes, with the turn among historical theorists in the last decades of the twentieth century toward the significance of narrative for historical analysis. This emphasis on narrative storytelling among contemporary historians compels Gilmour to offer her own “poetics of narrative” in Samuel that builds on the work of Robert Alter, Meir Sternberg, and Adele Berlin— among many other more recent contributions—in order to understand better the sophisticated narrative devices exploited by the author(s) of Samuel for their portrayal of Israel and Judah’s past. The payoff for this manner of literary analysis, Gilmour contends, is a more nuanced appreciation of the “‘rules’ of representing and interpreting the past” at work in Samuel that are closely wed to its “conception of the characteristics of history and its use of literary devices” (p. 7). A key question at the outset of Gilmour’s analysis is her understanding of what constitutes historiography and how the book of Samuel relates to it.1 For the author, historiography is any written “representation of the past” (p. 9, italics original), a definition that Gilmour places in contrast to “the common idea that historiography must be an objective account of what happened and the criticism that texts with overt ideological intentions do not fit this category” (p. 9). Citing “postmodern” theorists at odds with a positivistic, scientific understanding of history,2 Gilmour asserts that a broader understanding of historiography as a “representation of the past” embraces the ideological and subjective character of all history writing, ancient and modern. As such, this definition “points to the fundamental similarity between texts from both modern and ancient cultures: these texts represent an interpretation of people, places and events in the past” (p. 24). A genre of historiography, Gilmour further argues, should thus be defined by its “function” rather than by its “form” so as to avoid excluding “all pre-enlightenment cultures from engaging in fully-fledged historiography” (p. 21). Since a definition of historiography dependent on formal characteristics “gives priority” to Western, contemporary methods of historiography that “may soon become outdated,” the reader is cautioned to resist any “definitively correct set of conventions” (p. 21) for an understanding of what may or may not be history writing. The function of historiography is simply to represent the past; a formal distinction between “historical fiction and historiography is not necessary” (p. 24) for distinguishing the historiographical enterprise. Neither is the historian’s quest for accuracy regarding what once occurred, as the very notion of accuracy implies “impossible and subjective ideals” dependent on “arbitrary and changing cultural conventions” (p. 24). Historiography is, in the end, a “subjective discipline in which different people will value different methods of interpretation based on their ideology” (p. 21).

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Chapter two of Gilmour’s study takes up the manner in which historical causation is portrayed within the narrative of Samuel. Though Samuel “is often thought to contain very limited variation in causation” (p. 41), Gilmour proposes that the ancient authors behind the work explored multiple types of causation linked not only to the workings of the divine, but also to the spheres of the social and the political. Whether in the story of Samuel’s birth (1 Sam 1), Saul’s rise to kingship (1 Sam 9–11), or the absence of temple-building during David’s reign (2 Sam 7), the book of Samuel “contains a complex web of causation” surrounding these events that “encourages the reader to draw his/her own connections based on the evidence presented” (p. 47). Though YHWH may be the primum movens behind the events of history, the book of Samuel weaves personal and public motivations behind these events as well. The result is a narrative that “exploits discontinuity” between possible historical agents in order to “create complexity in the situations” portrayed (p. 89). Eschewing explicit causal explanations common to modern historiography, the narrative historiography of Samuel invites its audience to make these causal connections themselves. Since the works of Herodotus and Thucydides an important facet of composing narratives about the past has been an author’s assessment of this past’s meaning and significance.3 Yet with the anonymity of the biblical scribes who composed Samuel and their reticence to expound explicitly on the meaning of a story told,4 frank statements guiding the audience’s understanding of the significance of certain events are, Gilmour maintains, muted and mostly absent from Samuel’s narrative. The focus of Gilmour’s third chapter is therefore to explore Samuel’s “greater reliance on narrative techniques than on explicit statements for conveying meaning and significance” (p. 92). Gilmour traces two primary literary devices used for this purpose: the repetition of prominent themes (e.g. the anointing of a leader by YHWH) and the creation of “structures of meaning” (p. 98). The latter technique is the focus of the great majority of the chapter, with these structures of meaning appearing in the connections Gilmour highlights between the beginning and end of the book of Samuel (pp. 99–116), the similar patterns present within stories depicting the rise and fall of various leaders (pp. 116–30), and comparative analogies between the character of particular individuals (pp. 130–50). Gilmour’s fourth and fifth chapters are devoted to the book of Samuel’s techniques of evaluating the past and the coherence of that past represented within the work. Regarding the former, Gilmour adapts fifteen different methods of evaluation developed by M. Sternberg5 and applies these evaluative modes to the narratives of 1 Sam 8–12 (pp. 168–98) and 2 Sam 13–19 (pp. 198–221). The result of Samuel’s various means of

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evaluation, Gilmour concludes, is a complex narrative perspective that is able to voice moral, theological, and political viewpoints that, because of the tension and contradictions between them, “achieves complexity and sophistication” (p. 222) regarding the book’s appraisal of the past. Despite the plurality of voices present in the narrative, Gilmour observes that “only the viewpoint of the narrator, and not of the characters, has authority.” Consequently, the task of the reader is to be “sensitive to the narrator’s explicit and implicit promptings” regarding the value of each viewpoint (p. 222). The question of coherence, or rather “the conventions of accuracy, coherence and contradiction in the historiography of Samuel” (p. 227), poses the greatest sense of disjunction, according to Gilmour, between the narrative historiography of Samuel and that of modern works of history. In order to assess the potential inconsistencies and contradictions within the historiography of Samuel, Gilmour explores the MT and LXX versions of 1 Sam 17. The conclusions reached from this analysis touch on a number of important points. First, descriptive details in these versions of the DavidGoliath story—such as time designations or the location of events— contain “a high level of fluidity” in comparison to modern works of historiography and were “unlikely to have been considered important for their own sake; rather they are significant for the effect they produce” (p. 288). Second, a consistent chronology of events is absent from both versions of the tale. The authors of the MT and LXX were thus “indifferent to, and possibly even free to invent the chronology of events” (p. 293). Such observations suggest to Gilmour that among these ancient narratives there was a “very different attitude from modern historiography towards ‘facts.’” Whereas modern historians employ facts “to prove a particular interpretation, in the historiography of Samuel they are used to express the interpretation” (p. 299, italics original). In consideration of what Gilmour deems a significant divide between the authors of Samuel (both MT and LXX) and modern historians, she concludes that the ancient writers at the center of her study “were free to use literary techniques that invented or altered facts provided they conveyed coherent causation, critical evaluation and meaning.” The reason for this was straightforward: these ancient authors “were aware of the complexity of the past and understood that contradictions could arise where sufficient context was either not known or otherwise irrelevant” (p. 299). In concluding her study, Gilmour reviews the similarities and differences she has highlighted between the narrative historiography of Samuel and that of modern historical works. The implications of this research, Gilmour claims, bear directly on the use of Samuel as a source for writing the history of Israel (p. 304). On the one hand, “the nature of its

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[Samuel’s] historiography dictates that use of this text alone will be insufficient for a satisfactory modern historiography” (p. 304). At the same time, however, the “significant overlap and other similarities … point to the indispensability of the book of Samuel as a source” (pp. 304-5). Lastly, the value of Samuel's historiography is that it can “persuade us to broaden our own conception of history in the modern day" by challenging "modern conventions for straightforward explanation” (p. 307). A strength of Gilmour’s study is her close readings of a number of important stories within Samuel that are particularly attuned to sophisticated features of narrative storytelling within the ancient work. Perceptive observations pertaining to the multiple narrative perspectives of the rise of Saul (pp. 63–73) or disparate evaluations of David’s character during his reign in Jerusalem (pp. 198–221) provide nuanced, subtle commentary on Samuel indebted to the rise of literary approaches in biblical studies that began to flourish in the last decades of the twentieth century. Indeed, Gilmour’s most important conversation partners throughout her analysis of Samuel are R. Alter, S. Bar-Efrat, J.P. Fokkelman, and R. Polzin. Also noteworthy about Gilmour’s study is her endeavor to bring literary approaches to bear on questions all too often restricted to the domain of historians. The very attempt to place literary methods of biblical interpretation in service to larger historical questions is one of the most significant contributions of Gilmour's work.6 While Gilmour’s commitment to engage both literary and historical questions is most welcome, some difficulties emerge in the precision of her analysis and the depth of her conclusions. My misgivings stem in part from an absence of rigorous engagement with key terms and topics in her discussion. Asserting that—to cite a few examples—there is a “perceived conflict between the use of narrative in historiography and the goal of ‘what actually happened’” (p. 16), that “‘[s]cientific history’ is valued by our modern Western society …” (p. 26), or that recent efforts at writing history have benefited from “feminist historiographies” (p. 12) without any citations of the vast historical scholarship or contemporary discussions surrounding these critical issues leave such observations underdeveloped. The persistent reference in Gilmour’s work to “modern historiography” without discussion of the manifold differences in epistemology and methodology undergirding very different approaches toward historiography among contemporary historians further exacerbated a tendency toward simplistic reduction of important theoretical debates. And, while a handful of historical theorists are cited in Gilmour’s analysis, engagement with a number of literary theorists outside the domain of biblical studies might have strengthened her investigation further, particularly given its explicit commitment to a literary analysis of Samuel. The importance of Alter,

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Berlin, or Sternberg for an understanding of the poetics of biblical narrative could have been enhanced, for example, by turning to the works Mieke Bal, Gérard Gennette, Roland Barthes, or Northrop Frye on narrative theory more broadly. Paul Ricoeur’s substantial publications devoted precisely to the relationship between the poetics of narrative and the writing of history—including his magisterial three volume Time and Narrative7—does not receive a single citation in Gilmour’s investigation. A lack of precision also surrounds Gilmour’s understanding of historiography. Defining historiography as a “representation of the past” is not necessarily problematic, but such a broad understanding of the term— as Gilmour herself notes (p. 22, 25)—is problematized by the awareness “that any text that has even the slightest connection to the past can be considered historiography” (p. 22). While Gilmour cites postmodern influences for her refusal to provide a more meticulous understanding of historiography beyond her definition above, the dilemma opened up through Gilmour’s definition is that the very different literature of “modern historiography, many modern works of historical fiction, ancient propaganda, and ancient Greek historiography” (p. 27) are collapsed beneath this single definition of “historiography.” The difficulty with this interpretive approach, in part, is that it struggles to register the very different obligations of the historian and the novelist8 and the very different relationship toward the past that separates modernity from the historical works of antiquity.9 On Gilmour’s definition of historiography, there would reside no formal distinctions between the work of a Theodor Mommsen and Berossus, or a Fernand Braudel and Xenophon, making the significant developments toward writing about the past in modernity—both epistemologically and methodologically—mostly inconsequential. D. Edelman’s attempt, in contrast, to maintain a division between “ancient” and “modern” historiography is, in this sense, crucial.[10] The question that remains open, and one that must be pursued, is if the narrative of Samuel should be grouped with the “ancient historiography” of Herodotus, Thucydides, and Arrian. That Gilmour does not provide a comparative discussion of the poetics of Samuel with any other ancient work of literature leaves this question unaddressed. Gilmour’s study remains focused on a synchronic literary analysis of the poetics of Samuel’s narrative, and this is where its contribution can be found. This focus is unfortunately more limited than the stated purpose of “how to read the text of Samuel as ancient historiography,” an aim that necessarily includes the requirement of a thoughtful and careful reflection on what, in the end, constitutes historiography—whether ancient or modern. To suggest that it is “problematic to include … a modern idea of ‘historical accuracy’” (p. 13) within a definition of historiography because it

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is “ideological” and shortly thereafter to propose that “there are still texts that represent the past with greater or lesser accuracy” and that the former need to be “identified” (p. 25) for the historian’s purposes creates more confusion than it dispels. Similarly, stating that modern historians are guided by the impulse to prove a particular interpretation through facts while the authors of Samuel used facts to express their ideas (p. 299) only raises the question as to what constitutes historical “facts” for Gilmour and what distinction resides between proving a point and expressing it. Troubling about these observations are not necessarily their imprecision, but rather the lack of attentiveness toward the motivations present in the historian’s quest for representing the past authentically in spite of the profound epistemological problems that work against such efforts. Perhaps the desire for accuracy and rigorous attention to evidence in historical research is a modern, Western convention. Yet a few moments turning through the works of Holocaust historiography and the arguments surrounding the Historikerstreit in late 1980s Germany illustrates that the quest for accuracy, authenticity, and judiciousness toward what once was cannot be dismissed as easily as Gilmour proposes for a contemporary understanding of what is and what is not historiography. In the end, Gilmour’s reflection on these points appear to be connected to her manifest desire to emphasize the similarities between the narrative of Samuel and modern works of history in order to preserve an understanding of Samuel's narrative as “ancient historiography.” The return to the value of narrative within contemporary historical theory, of the recognition of the importance of shedding light on the past by reciting a story about it, prevents the narrative of Samuel and historiography from ever being fully uncoupled. That ideological influences, fictional discourse, and the utilization of literary tropes contribute toward both the composition of biblical narrative and the richest works of historiography only further buttresses Gilmour’s connection between the two. Yet important differences remain between the historiography of modernity and antiquity, particularly regarding access to and knowledge of the past. Gilmour’s analysis would benefit by addressing these differences more thoroughly. The question that remains unaddressed in the absence of such a discussion is precisely the relationship between the narrative of Samuel and the efforts of modern critical historiography. Citing similarities between the two along the lines of a poetics of narrative only illustrates that both Samuel’s narratives about the past and contemporary historiography remain dependent on the formal strictures of narrative storytelling; it does not confirm that Samuel has any concern with what we today understand as history.

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Thus, with no analysis of the relationship between Samuel’s narrative and actual historical evidence it is difficult for this reviewer to perceive on what grounds Gilmour can make the claim for Samuel to be “indispensable” as a source for Israel’s history (p. 305). Though I do find Samuel to be an important, but difficult, historical source, this assessment can only be made, I would contend, through a comparison of Samuel’s narrative with features of an Iron Age past known through other evidence