Social Groups Behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period 9783161618871, 9783161623516, 3161618874

Table of contents :
Cover
Title
Preface
Table of Contents
Benedikt Hensel — Introduction
Part I: Emerging Judaism, Yahwistic Plurality, and the Making of the Hebrew Bible: A Classification of the Phenomena in the Overall Context of Hebrew Bible Studies
Benedikt Hensel — Who Wrote the Bible? Understanding Redactors and Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions in the Context of Plurality within Emerging Judaism
Part II: “Inside the Land of Israel”: Different Perspectives in Handling Diversity Inside Judah and Samaria
Yigal Levin — What Did Ezra and Nehemiah Have against Mixed Marriages?
Charlotte Hempel — Yahwistic Diversity in the Land of Israel: The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls
Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld — The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim (2019–2021): Preliminary Findings
Dany Nocquet — 1 Kgs 20 and 22, a Writing by a Prophetic Narrator? A Reconsideration
Magnar Kartveit — The Attitude towards the Northerners in the Book of Chronicles
Bartosz Adamczewski — Othniel and the Unfaithful Concubine: Two Images of the Judean Yahwism from a Northern Perspective
Wolfgang Schütte — The “Scroll of David” – a Samaritan Name of the Book of Samuel? 2 Sam 24 and the Text History of the Jewish Books of Samuel and Kings
Part III: “Diaspora Perspectives”: Biblical Reflections on Historical Realities in Egypt, Transjordan, Babylon, and Persia
Ann-Kristin Wigand — The Judean Group of Elephantine: Reading Aramaic Literature in the Service of Achaemenid Rule
Stephen Germany — Gilead in 2 Samuel and the Discourse on Diaspora during the Persian Period
C. L. Crouch — Involuntary Migration, Strategies of Identity Construction, and Religious Diversity after 586 BCE
Kishiya Hidaka — Leviticus 26 and the Pro-Babylonian-Golah and Pro-Diaspora Redactions in the Context of Identity Formation and Conflict of Yahwistic Groups in the Persian Period
Vjatscheslav Dreier — The Theological Profile of the Masoretic Book of Esther in the Context of Diverse Yhwh Communities
List of Contributors
Index of Sources
Index of Subjects

Citation preview

Forschungen zum Alten Testament Edited by

Corinna Körting (Hamburg) ∙ Konrad Schmid (Zürich) Mark S. Smith (Princeton) ∙ Andrew Teeter (Harvard)

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Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period Edited by

Benedikt Hensel, Bartosz Adamczewski, and Dany Nocquet

Mohr Siebeck

Benedikt Hensel is Full-Professor of Hebrew Bible at the Carl von Ossietzky Universität Oldenburg (Germany). orcid.org/0000-0001-6608-2676 Bartosz Adamczewski is Associate Professor at Cardinal Stefan Wyszyński University in Warsaw (Poland). orcid.org/0000-0001-7847-0203 Dany Nocquet is Professor of Old Testament and Hebrew in the Institut Protestant de Théologie – Faculté de Montpellier.

ISBN 978-3-16-161887-1/ eISBN 978-3-16-162351-6 DOI 10.1628/978-3-16-162351-6 ISSN 0940-4155 / eISSN 2568-8359 (Forschungen zum Alten Testament) The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliographie; detailed bibliographic data are available at http://dnb.dnb.de. © 2023 Mohr Siebeck Tübingen, Germany. www.mohrsiebeck.com This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, in any form (beyond that permitted by copyright law) without the publisher’s written permission. This applies particularly to reproductions, translations and storage and processing in electronic systems. The book was typeset by epline in Bodelshausen using Minion typeface, printed on non-aging paper by Gulde Druck in Tübingen, and bound by Buchbinderei Spinner in Ottersweier. Printed in Germany.

Preface Is the Hebrew Bible purely a product of Jerusalem or were there various social groups who each played a role in its development during the Second Temple period? This is the guiding question of the present volume, which fills a crucial gap in recent research by combining current literary-historical, redactional and text-historical analysis of the Hebrew Bible with the latest results pertaining to the pluriform social and religious shape of early Judaism. This volume’s journey to publication began in the year 2017 with the joint meeting of EABS and ISBL in Berlin, during which the three editors of the present volume independently presented their findings on the Samaritans and their influence on the Hebrew Bible. This was followed in 2018 by a jointly organized conference in Montpellier, France on “Samaria and Diaspora in the Persian and Hellenistic Period: Influence, Significance and Contributions to the Pentateuch and the Prophets.” There, the focus was deliberately limited to the possible influences by Samarian groups on the biblical texts, since they were the most historically accessible at the time. The volume Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: Tracing Perspectives of Group Identity from Judah, Samaria, and the Diaspora in Biblical Traditions (Mohr Siebeck, FAT II) published in 2020, presents the individual contributions from this conference while also already widening the perspective for subsequent publications that look not only at Samaria itself but to a broader perspective on the phenomenon of Yahwistic diversity. The present volume can thus be understood as a sequel to the aforementioned broadened view on Yahwistic diversity as a phenomenon. It takes into consideration perspectives not only of the Judeans and Samarians but also the groups from Egypt, Transjordan, Babylonia and Persia, as well as “the Diaspora” in general. More specifically, the volume is a result of a three-years research unit initiated and conducted by the three editors at the EABS conferences from 2019 through 2022. The volume is a collection of select contributions from the various research unit sessions, supplemented by some solicited contributions in order to cover the full panorama of currently known social groups of Yahwistic character and the impact of this phenomenon on the making of the Hebrew Bible – from the Persian period down to the time of Qumran. As a result, this volume – for the first time in recent research history – addresses the phenomenon of religious plurality by bringing together archaeological, (religious-)historical, and literary-critical approaches. It goes without saying that this volume is not intended to be an exhaustive repository of all known

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groups and their corresponding representations in the biblical texts. Rather, this volume seeks to enable a panoramic view on the (possible) influences by various social groups from various Yahwistic contexts on the genesis of the biblical texts and their theological and ideological profiles. We would like to offer our thanks to all contributors to the volume for their excellent essays and further stimulating the conversation – be it during the sessions of the Research Unit or in discussion with the editors and contributors while writing and finalizing their papers. We also hope that this volume will encourage (the much needed) further discussion. We wish to extend our gratitude towards the editors of this series, Corinna Körting, Konrad Schmid, Mark S. Smith und Andrew Teeter, for accepting the volume for publication. We want to express our sincere appreciation for the editorial staff at Mohr Siebeck for their help in preparing this volume, for their professionalism and for the support they have provided us. Finally, we want to thank my assistant to the chair of Hebrew Bible, in Oldenburg Dr. Jordan Davis, as well as my student assistants Maite Benn, Sophie Dierks, Julia Klose, and Miriam ­Ostermann for helping editing the volume. Oldenburg, March 2023 Benedikt Hensel, on behalf of the co-editors Bartosz Adamczewski and Dany Nocquet

Table of Contents Preface  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . V Benedikt Hensel Introduction  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

Part I: Emerging Judaism, Yahwistic Plurality, and the Making of the Hebrew Bible: A Classification of the Phenomena in the Overall Context of Hebrew Bible Studies Benedikt Hensel Who Wrote the Bible? Understanding Redactors and Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions in the Context of Plurality within Emerging Judaism  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11

Part II: “Inside the Land of Israel”: Different Perspectives in Handling Diversity Inside Judah and Samaria Yigal Levin What Did Ezra and Nehemiah Have against Mixed Marriages?  . . . . . . . . . . . 27 Charlotte Hempel Yahwistic Diversity in the Land of Israel: The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim (2019–2021): Preliminary Findings  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65 Dany Nocquet 1 Kgs 20 and 22, a Writing by a Prophetic Narrator? A Reconsideration  . . . 89 Magnar Kartveit The Attitude towards the Northerners in the Book of Chronicles  . . . . . . . . . 105

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Bartosz Adamczewski Othniel and the Unfaithful Concubine: Two Images of the Judean Yahwism from a Northern Perspective  . . . . . . . . . 117 Wolfgang Schütte The “Scroll of David” – a Samaritan Name of the Book of Samuel? 2 Sam 24 and the Text History of the Jewish Books of Samuel and Kings  . . 131

Part III: “Diaspora Perspectives”: Biblical Reflections on Historical Realities in Egypt, Transjordan, Babylon, and Persia Ann-Kristin Wigand The Judean Group of Elephantine: Reading Aramaic Literature in the Service of Achaemenid Rule  . . . . . . . . . . 155 Stephen Germany Gilead in 2 Samuel and the Discourse on Diaspora during the Persian Period  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175 C. L. Crouch Involuntary Migration, Strategies of Identity Construction, and Religious Diversity after 586 BCE  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191 Kishiya Hidaka Leviticus 26 and the Pro-Babylonian-Golah and Pro-Diaspora Redactions in the Context of Identity Formation and Conflict of Yahwistic Groups in the Persian Period  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205 Vjatscheslav Dreier The Theological Profile of the Masoretic Book of Esther in the Context of Diverse Yhwh Communities  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 225 List of Contributors  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 251 Index of Sources  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 253 Index of Subjects  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 267

Introduction Benedikt Hensel The Persian and early Hellenistic periods are widely recognized as the socalled formative period for the Hebrew scriptures and emerging Judaism. This realization goes hand in hand with the latest research, which in its historical description of the periods in question highlights the religious diversity of this “early Judaism.”1 Against this background, the question of which groups were responsible for bearing the different biblical traditions during this very period needs to be asked anew. There has been a long tradition in research of identifying biblical redactors and redactor groups as well as the groups of biblical tradents of this period with the social groups of Judea (and especially those of Jerusalem). This is also still the case for the majority of the biblical texts: the Hebrew Bible seems to be, in the end, clearly a Judean-dominated tradition. The historical aspect of the “Yahwistic diversity” is mostly ignored. The present volume closes this research gap. The guiding question of this volume is: to what extent did the Yahwistic diversity of this period make its way into the formational processes of the Hebrew Bible? It seems clear that, even if most of the traditions at the surface of the text were shaped from a Judean perspective, this diversity is still reflected in certain biblical traditions or redactional material. In this regard, another question arises: which social groups or redactor groups (Judean as well as “non-Judean”) stand behind the processes that produced the Hebrew Bible? Are the various groups from not only Yehud and Samaria but also from Babylonia, Persia, Egypt, Idumea and Transjordan, all of which have up to now been well-known and well-documented, reflected within in the latest biblical traditions, and if so, how are these groups represented in the biblical texts?2 For the first time, the present volume will address these and related questions by bringing together different disciplines, thereby combining archaeological, (religious-)historical, literary-critical, redaction-historical and textual-historical approaches. This has resulted in a volume that aims at complete coverage of the phenomenon of Yahwistic diversity as it is known to us up to the present. It 1 

On this matter, see the research overview in this volume: Hensel, “Who Wrote the Bible?” On the different concepts and forms of representation of the various Yahwistic groups, see Hensel, “Who Wrote the Bible?” (in this volume). 2 

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is designed in such a way that the individual articles represent a panorama of the currently known social groups of Yahwistic character – from within “Israel” (i. e., Judah/Yehud and Samaria) as well as outside it (Egypt, Mesopotamia, and Transjordan). In terms of its temporal range, the phenomenon of Yahwistic diversity will be traced from the Persian period to the time of Qumran. It goes without saying that this volume is not intended to be an all-encompassing description of all known groups and their possible representations in the biblical texts (this would call for a monograph; I am currently working on this and hope to be able to finish it in the relatively near future). Instead, this volume should enable a panoramic view on the (possible) influences by various social groups from various Yahwistic contexts on the genesis of the biblical texts and their theological and ideological profiles. Yahwistic Diversity of the Hebrew Bible: The “History” of the Present Volume within the Research Discussion For the sake of better contextualization within the history of research, it may be best to mention here the extensive process of how this volume came to be. Its beginnings are in the 2017 Joint Meeting of EABS and ISBL in Berlin, during which the three editors of the present volume independently presented their findings on the Samaritans and their influence on the Hebrew Bible. This was followed in 2018 by a jointly organized conference in Montpellier, France on “Samaria and Diaspora in the Persian and Hellenistic Period: Influence, Significance and Contributions to the Pentateuch and the Prophets.” There, the focus was deliberately limited to the possible influences by Samarian groups on the biblical texts, since they were the most historically accessible at the time. The volume Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: Tracing Perspectives of Group Identity from Judah, Samaria, and the Diaspora in Biblical Traditions, published in 2020, presents the individual contributions from this conference while also already widening the perspective for subsequent publications that look not only at Samaria itself but to a broader perspective on the phenomenon of Yahwistic diversity. The present volume can thus be understood as a sequel to the aforementioned broadened view on Yahwistic diversity as a phenomenon. It takes into consideration perspectives of not only the Judeans and Samarians but also the groups from Egypt, Transjordan, Babylonia and Persia, as well as “the Diaspora” in general. In terms of its temporal range, Charlotte Hempel’s contribution now also traces the phenomenon to Qumran, filling a crucial gap in previous research. The volume is also a result of a multiyear research unit initiated and conducted by the three editors at the EABS conferences through 2022. The volume is a collection of select contributions from the various research unit sessions and



Introduction

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is supplemented by solicited contributions from C. L. Crouch (Radboud University/University of Pretoria), Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld (both affiliated with the Israel Antiquities Authority), Ann-Kristin Wigand (Humboldt University of Berlin) and Vjatscheslav Dreier (University of Heidelberg). Structure of the Present Volume The volume contains thirteen essays divided in three sections. The opening essay, “Who Wrote the Bible? Understanding Redactors and Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions in the Context of Plurality within Emerging Judaism,” is my own contribution, which is part of the first section entitled Emerging Judaism, Yahwistic Plurality, and the Making of the Hebrew Bible: A Classification of the Phenomena in the Overall Context of Hebrew Bible Studies. My essay discusses the different questions about the identification of redactor groups and social groups behind the biblical traditions in the so-called formative phase of Judaism. Here, I identify and detail two modes of representation of the different Yahwistic and especially Diaspora groups. This results in the observation that the different traditions and social groups behind the biblical texts establish differing concepts of a “biblical Israel” under the question of who does and who does not (anymore) belong. The formation of the biblical traditions thus comprises the counterpart to the historical processes of the formation of Judaism within the “canon” of the various Yahwistic groups. Part II of the volume includes essays which explore social groups and perspectives of Yahwistic diversity from “inside the Land of Israel,” which broadly references the various Judean and Samarian perspectives and voices represented in certain textual strata. The opening article of this section is authored by Yigal Levin: One of the central issues in the book of Ezra-Nehemiah is that of the “intermarriage” of Judean men to “foreign” women. To the author of Ezra-Nehemiah, and presumably to the historical characters of Ezra the Scribe and of Nehemiah the Governor, such marriages were a grave sin against God, and in both stories, the main character brings about the “removal” of these women. Within modern scholarship, however, there is no consensus as to the specific nature of this grave sin, nor of the motivation of Ezra, Nehemiah or the author of the book in opposing such marriages. Levin’s essay first surveys the various proposals and then analyses the issue against the background of the information we have about the low level of the Judeans’ maintenance of “identity boundaries” in Babylonia, Elephantine, Idumea and other areas, proposing that Ezra-Nehemiah considered such boundaries to be crucial in the constitution and preservation of the identity of the Jews, as a minority group, in the early Second Temple Period.

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Charlotte Hempel contributed the next essay, entitled “Yahwistic Diversity in the Land of Israel: The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Her contribution argues that the evidence of the Dead Sea Scrolls offers important contributions to the scholarly debate on the question of Yahwistic diversity and group identity from Judah and Israel addressed in this volume. In particular, Hempel highlights the sizeable contribution of current research on the Dead Sea Scrolls from Qumran to our understanding and recovery of social and Yahwistic diversity in the land of Israel. The article “The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim (2019–2021): Preliminary Findings,” authored by Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld, presents preliminary results from the first three seasons of the renewed excavations on Mt. Gerizim. As indicated by the finds of the excavation, the town atop Mt. Gerizim, or at least the neighborhood of the town recently excavated on the northern slope, was quite humble in economic status. This may have been due to external circumstances and the economic difficulties caused by many years of war between the Ptolemaic and Seleucid Empires or may have been due to the religious adherence of the local population, who avoided imported vessels. In his contribution “1 Kgs 20 and 22, a Writing by a Prophetic Narrator? A Reconsideration,” Dany Nocquet deals with the intriguing question of a (possible) Samarian redactional layer within the Book of Kings, thereby focusing on the war accounts of 1 Kgs 20 and 22. These war accounts tell about the violent death of King Ahab and are often interpreted as post-Deuteronomistic developments or as a late writing coming from a “prophetic narrator.” In continuity with this, the article points out the fact that the main goal of these stories focuses not on the punishment of the king but on the presence of a true prophet comparable to Jeremiah and living in Samaria. Enhancing the greatness and efficiency of the prophecy of Samaria already during the time of King Ahab, these texts could be understood as a contribution of the Samarian community nuancing the Deuteronomistic History in the Persian period. Magnar Kartveit’s study, entitled “The Attitude towards the Northerners in the Book of Chronicles,” brings into discussion a long-standing open question in traditional and modern scholarship. The attitude towards the Northerners in the book of Chronicles has been described by scholars in various ways. After Martin Noth’s influential 1943 theory of an anti-Samaritan polemic, scholars have reassessed the texts and found an inclusive or welcoming stance towards the North. In recent years, however, new material has emerged, which makes it necessary to take a fresh look at this question. The most important material is constituted by the results from the excavations on the summit of Mt. Gerizim and inscriptions found there. Kartveit’s article suggests that the idea of a purified land is central to Chronicles’ attitude to the North, and the kings Hezekiah and Josiah provide examples of how this status of the people and the land is obtained.



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Bartosz Adamczewski’s essay, “Othniel and the Unfaithful Concubine: Two Images of the Judean Yahwism from a Northern Perspective,” explores possible Samarian perspectives within the Book of Judges. The images of Judea and the Judean Yahwism in the Israelite book of Judges are highly variegated. In the stories of Othniel (Judg 3:8–11) and the unfaithful concubine (Judg 19:1–20:13c), the image of Judahite civil leadership, inasmuch as it is theocratic and oriented positively towards Ephraim, is positive (Judg 3:8–11; 19:3–9). On the other hand, the image of the rival, separatist sanctuary of Yahweh in Jerusalem is very negative (Judg 19:10–12). In order to analyze the variegated rhetorical impact of both stories, which in two different ways illustrate the same Deuteronomic blessing for Judah (Deut 33:7), this essay firstly explores their allusive features. Subsequently, it then analyzes the different functions of both accounts in the hypertextual rhetoric of the book of Judges. Finally, it investigates the extent to which Yahwistic diversity in the Hebrew Bible can be regarded as an intentionally shaped rhetorical phenomenon. The final essay in the second section is authored by Wolfgang Schütte: “The ‘Scroll of David’ – a Samaritan Name of the Book of Samuel? 2 Sam 24 and the Text History of the Jewish Books of Samuel and Kings.” The Kitāb at-Tārīḫ of Abū l-Fatḥ embeds 2 Sam 24 within a Persian-era narrative, a setting comparable to Jewish narratives from the Hasmonean period. Because of Abū l-Fatḥ’s unusual reception of 2 Sam 24, this contribution traces the history of Samuel-Kings as books and the textual history of the biblical narrative. Behind the concern of the kaige recension, Schütte identifies a Torah-centric theological treatment, which he holds responsible for connecting the books of Samuel and Kings and the positioning of 2 Sam 24. Part III of the volume is dedicated to a wide view of “diaspora perspectives,” which includes social groups from Egypt, Babylonia, Persia and Transjordan. This section opens with the article entitled “The Judean Group of Elephantine: Reading Aramaic Literature in the Service of Achaemenid Rule,” authored by Ann-Kristin Wigand: In Elephantine, various ethnic groups lived and worked together in a very confined space during the Persian period. One of these groups called themselves “Judean” and venerated the God Yaho in a proper temple. For a long time, the Judeans of Elephantine were interpreted in view of the biblical image of Yahwism in time of Ezra-Nehemiah and thus served as an assumed representation of preexilic Yahwism. In her article, Wigand argues that this group is better understood within the close context of the multiethnic cohabitation in Egypt under Achaemenid rule. A closer look at the (Aramaic) literature available at Elephantine, especially the Aramaic Ahiqar composition, and its function in the Egyptian context elucidates this point. “Gilead in 2 Samuel and the Discourse on Diaspora during the Persian Period” by Stephen Germany addresses the question of Transjordanian realities behind certain texts within the Book of Samuel. Although references to the

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Transjordanian region of Gilead occur most frequently in biblical narratives set prior to the end of the northern kingdom of Israel in 722 BCE, there is good reason to conclude that many of the biblical texts relating to Gilead were written by Judean scribes long after the periods that they portray. This essay thus considers what could have motivated later Judean authors to write about a region that possibly had little historical connections to Judah at the time when many of the texts in question were composed. Through its analysis of two case studies from 2 Samuel (the site of Mahanaim and the figure of Barzillai the Gileadite), the study concludes that certain references to Gilead in 2 Samuel serve a symbolic function as part of a discourse on exile and life in the diaspora following the end of the kingdom of Judah in 586 BCE. C. L. Crouch authored the following article, entitled “Involuntary Migration, Strategies of Identity Construction, and Religious Diversity after 586 BCE.” Here, Crouch discusses the consequences of Jerusalem’s destruction for the identity concerns of those who once lived there. The fall of the city to the Babylonians – not once, but twice  – together with associated events left an indelible mark on Israelite and Judahite identity. Her article examines the construction of Israelite and Judahite identities in the wake of Judah’s downfall through the lens of involuntary migration, paying particular attention to the way that the reasons for this catastrophe were differently narrated by different involuntary migrant communities. Crouch investigates the refugee communities in both Egypt and Babylonia, from the perspective of the prophetic books of Ezekiel and Jeremiah. She concludes that both of these migrant communities identify the cause of their displacement as a matter of cultural practice, arguing that the disasters they have experienced occurred because a defining practice of the group was abandoned. The practices they identify as essential, however, are diametrically opposed: whereas Ezekiel identifies exclusive Yahwism as the core of Israelite cultural identity, the community in Egypt views it as an aberrant deviation from Judah’s older cultural traditions. In his essay “Leviticus 26 and the Pro-Babylonian-Golah and Pro-Diaspora Redactions in the Context of Identity Formation and Conflict of Yahwistic Groups in the Persian Period,” Kishiya Hidaka demonstrates that one of the main stimuli for the literary developments in Lev 26* and Ezek 37*; 34* can be seen in the concerns for the identity and theological pre-eminence between the groups of the Babylonian Golah and the Diaspora. Close analysis of Lev 26* reveals the existence of two different conceptions toward the Babylonian Golah. Hidaka shows that the pro-Diaspora redaction in Ezek 34* receives several influences from Lev 26* and the pro-Babylonian Golah redaction in Ezek 37*. This approach can cast further light on the link between the formation of the Pentateuch and the developments of the group identities in the Persian period. In Vjatscheslav Dreier’s contribution, “The Theological Profile of the Masoretic Book of Esther in the Context of Diverse Yhwh Communities,” Dreier



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presents certain aspects of his PhD thesis tracing the theological profile of the Masoretic version of the book of Esther in terms of the historical context in which it originated. An initial task, therefore, is to provide such an historical reconstruction. Dreier shows that Esther should be understood as a narrative composed in dialogue with alternative visions advocated by differing groups of the time, each of which produced their own literature. This interpretation provides the best model for situating the book of Esther within the complex context of the diverse (Diaspora) Yhwh communities of the period.

Part I

Emerging Judaism, Yahwistic Plurality, and the Making of the Hebrew Bible: A Classification of the Phenomena in the Overall Context of Hebrew Bible Studies

Who Wrote the Bible? Understanding Redactors and Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions in the Context of Plurality within Emerging Judaism Benedikt Hensel 1.  A Formative Period The Persian period (6th–4th centuries BCE) is now generally considered, and rightly so, to be the formative phase of Judaism. This concerns not only early Judaism as a religio-social entity but also the writings that shaped its identity, specifically the Hebrew Bible.1 Only in the last few years has this come to be taken firmly as the default view,2 not least also because the advancements in the subdisciplines of literary history (especially concerning redaction history), religious and social history, and archaeology of Israel – each through their own respective methodologies – reached comparable conclusions and were equally able to substantiate the Persian period as the cornerstone of Judaism – an era that (and this is worth emphasizing) the field, up until a good two decades ago, still widely considered to be a “dark age.”3 However, although the presentation thus far has depicted a broad consensus on the matter, it must also be interjected that there is presently an increase of voices (mine included) arguing that this formative phase should not be limited to the Persian period but should rather be extended well into the Hellenistic period. Particularly in the most recent research there are three advancements that support this: (1)  In recent years, it has repeatedly been shown that the group-specific, identity-forming processes that led to the formation of Judaism in antiquity, including its specific identity markers (especially the practice and understanding 1  See, among many others, the current and comprehensive overview on the matter by Schmid/Schröter, The Making of the Bible, 105–139 (the chapter “Emerging Judaism”). 2 See Schmid, “Textual, Historical, Sociological, and Ideological Cornerstones of the Formation of the Pentateuch,” 29–51; Römer, “Zwischen Urkunden, Fragmenten und Ergänzungen,” 2–24; Kratz, “The Analysis of the Pentateuch: An Attempt to Overcome Barriers of Thinking,” 529–561; Gertz et al. (ed.), The Formation of the Pentateuch. 3  See the exemplary assessment by Uehlinger from 1999: “The Persian period is still a very poor parent in the archaeology of Palestine” (Uehlinger, “‘Powerful Persianisms,’” 136).

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of the Torah, circumcision, food and purity laws,4 and monotheism), basically only appear beginning in the Hasmonean/Maccabean period.5 In addition the Samarians and the Judeans only experienced a “parting of the ways” as religious groups in the late 2nd century BCE and only thereafter began to form their own specific identity markers.6 Therefore, the anchoring of “early Judaism” should be extended several centuries prior to this event: it is only from this point onwards that we can speak of “Jews” and “Samaritans” in a proper sense, since Judaism and Samaritanism each construct their own identities in relation to the other, so to speak. Examples of the results of this process of group profile construction include the specific letter type of the Samarian script and the formation of groupspecific text forms of the Bible that later became the Samaritan and Masoretic texts. In any case, before this formation of Judaism, there was still much that was “in flux”: the formational processes of early Judaism thus extend over the entire so-called “Second Temple period” (or at least through the Persian period and into the Hellenistic period).7 (2)  Secondly, the importance of the Hellenistic period for the formation of scripture has also gradually been cited more and more clearly concerning literary history. In the recently published volume Times of Transition: Judea in the Early Hellenistic Period, edited by Sylvie Honigman, Christophe Nihan, and Oded Lipschits, the individual exegetical contributions – and especially that by Konrad Schmid – have succeeded in elaborating the fundamental importance of the Ptolemaic period for essential strands of traditions and theological possibilities within the Hebrew Bible.8 To echo Schmid’s words, “this does not make the Hebrew Bible a Hellenistic book, but it shows that its literary growth at least extended into the Ptolemaic period.”9 It can also be added regarding the thematic focus of the present volume that especially the perspective of and about the “Yahwistic Diaspora” experienced both a specific shaping and, at the same time, a diversification during the Hellenistic period (see below, § 3). (3) Thirdly, the current methodological developments within literary criticism and textual history also show that the production, reproduction, and passing down of writings are not processes that can be strictly separated from each other and that they instead go hand-in-hand. Accordingly, the formational 4 

Especially for this aspect of the Diaspora, see Schöpf, Purity without Borders? Purity Concerns in the Early Jewish Diaspora during the Second Temple Period Regarding the Case of Tall Ziraʾa, Northern Jordan. 5 Cohen, The Beginning of Jewishness. 6  Schorch, “The Construction of Samari(t)an Identity from the Inside and from the Outside,” 135–149. 7  Hensel, “Yahwistic Diversity,” 16–21; see also, with different argumentation but comparable results, Frevel, Geschichte Israels, 323–326. 8  Schmid, “How to Identify a Ptolemaic Period Text in the Hebrew Bible,” 281–292. 9  Schmid, “How to Identify a Ptolemaic Period Text in the Hebrew Bible,” 289.



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processes of the Hebrew Bible are thus to be extended well throughout the Second Temple period (see especially the excellent methodological groundwork by Reinhard Müller and Juha Pakkala titled Editorial Techniques in the Hebrew Bible: Toward a Refined Literary Criticism [2022]).10

2.  Emerging Judaism(s) and Yahwistic Diversity in the Second Temple Period A significant aspect of this formative period that has thus far been regularly neglected is the following: the emerging Judaism of the Persian and early Hellenistic periods was – unlike stated in earlier treatments of these periods – not a quasi-”orthodox” monolith oriented towards Jerusalem but – quite to the contrary  – shaped by many different, regionally diverse “Judaisms.” The best known and researched of these are, of course, the groups in Babylon (significant here: āl-Yahudu11), on the island of Elephantine on the Nile,12 in Judea, and in Samaria.13 For this volume, I  am thankful that we have been given exclusive insight into the new excavations on Mt. Gerizim (from the 2019–2021 seasons) with the contribution by Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld, confirming many previous results but also providing corrections in details.14 Most importantly, the authors finally present detailed studies of the pottery finds that have been missing until now. However, there is also evidence of Yahwistic groups in the multiethnic contexts of Idumea15 and in the regions of Transjordan.16 Fundamental methodological research in this area is connected above all with the detailed historical studies of Christian Frevel,17 as well as with my own 10 Müller/Pakkala, Editorial Techniques in the Hebrew Bible. See also in the present volume W. Schütte with a test case on this matter: Schütte, “The ‘Scroll of David’ – a Samaritan Name of the Book of Samuel?” 11  See Alstola, Judeans in Babylonia: A Study of Deportees in the Sixth and Fifth Centuries BCE; Berlejung, “A Sketch of the Life of the Golah in the Countryside of Babylonia,” 148–188, and Wunsch/Pearce, Judeans by the Waters of Babylon: New Historical Evidence in Cuneiform Sources from Rural Babylonia. 12  See (alongside the contribution in this volume by Wigand) Kratz/Schipper (ed.), Elephantine in Context; Granerød, Dimensions of Yahwism; Rohrmoser, Götter, Tempel und Kult der Judäo-Aramäer von Elephantine. 13 Kartveit, The Origin of the Samaritans; Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans; Pummer, The Samaritans. A Profile; Hensel, Juda und Samaria. 14 Regev/Greenfeld, “The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim (2019–2021): Preliminary Findings.” 15  See Levin, “The Formation of Idumean Identity,” 192–194, 196–198; Hensel, “Think Positive!,” 348–355; and idem, “Was there an ‘Idumean Yahwism’? Material and Biblical Evidence on Religion and Yahweh-Worship in Idumea.” 16  See Hensel, “Transjordan and Judah from the Babylonian to Hellenistic Periods.” 17  See Frevel, “Der Eine oder die Vielen?,” 238–265; idem, Geschichte Israels, 323–326;

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studies on the history of religion that relate here to the intersection of history and biblical reflections of exactly this diversity.18 Cynthia Edenburg has recently published an article that likewise lays a methodological foundation for addressing representations of the “Diaspora” in late biblical texts.19 Her study is noteworthy primarily because it asks about how the scribes of various Judean, Samarian, and Diasporic groups would have been in contact with each other and how they would have exchanged traditions.20 This concretizing of the practice of the oftcited (also on my part) exchange between the scribal groups provides a very helpful point of departure for further refinement of both the thesis of a “Yahwistic diversity” that can actually also be found reflected in certain biblical texts (on such reflections, see § 3 below, as well as my theory of early Judaism developing only over the course of the Second Temple period through both convergence with and differentiation from the other religious groups of Yahwistic provenance (as different as the specific religious formations of each respective “Yahwism” may have been).21 Of course, this process of identity formation clearly presupposes that the groups were in contact with each other. This is – when looking at the biblical evidence (§ 3) – probable, in any case. Historically, these contacts are immediately tangible at least in the correspondences of the Judeo-Arameans with governors of Judah and Samaria (TAD A4.7–10). However, there is still only little that can be deduced about the concrete “hows” of this contact between social groups or specific scribes. There has been an excellent debate over the naming of this phenomenon. Christian Frevel has, with good argument, supported the designation “Judaism” (in current publications) as a larger entity or (in earlier publications22) “Judaisms.” In my opinion, the phenomenon should, from the approach of religious studies, be viewed as neutrally as possible: the different groupings exist alongside each other in these periods, even if they display differences in detail regarding religious practice and the sociology of religion. So, for example, monotheism is a possible option during the Persian period (Judah and Samaria) but not an exclusive option for faith in the God of Israel (so, e. g., Elephantine and Idumea). Moreover, “Judaism” is only one single development within a wider entity. The “Samaritans,” for example, would never call themselves (nor would they have in idem/Pyschny, “A ‘Religious Revolution’ in Yehûd?,” 1–22; idem/Pyschny (ed.), A  “Religious Revolution” in Yehûd? The Material Culture of the Persian Period as a Test Case. 18  See esp. Hensel, “Yahwistic Diversity,” 1–44. 19  Edenburg, “Messaging Brothers in Distant Lands,” 204–223. 20  Edenburg, “Messaging Brothers in Distant Lands,” 222–223. 21  See also Beyerle, “Intolerance in Early Judaism: Emic and Etic Descriptions of Jewish Religions in the Second Temple Period,” 115–156. 22  Alongside the aforementioned texts from Frevel, see also idem, “Alte Stücke  – Späte Brücke?,” 270 (“Formationsprozesse der ‘Judentümer’”); Edelman has also used the term “Judaisms” in a recent publication: Edelman, “Introduction,” 1–5 (in her volume Religion in the Achaemenid Persian Empire).



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antiquity) “Jews.” I have thus suggested the neologism “Yahwisms” (not without predecessors in the field23) or “Yahwistic diversity” for describing this phenomenon.24 The “faith in Yhwh” therefore forms a religious constant common to all of the groups under consideration here. Thus, it is possible to describe this phenomenon without assigning it to one of the (assumed) main currents (like “the Judaism,” so to speak). The term proves moreover to be connectable to the term “Judaisms,” first introduced in 1987 by Neusner, Green and Frerichs and used as a qualification of Rabbinic Judaism.25 In my opinion, early Judaism in its Jerusalem instantiation is only one “branch” of a complex nexus of religious options that can be related in this time period to the phenomenon of the God of Israel, Yhwh. In any case, and this terminological debate notwithstanding, the decisive insight into this phenomenon lies in the fact that, in the approach of religious studies, the “panorama” of all these regionally diversified groups must first be observed and described in order to accurately capture the emergence of early Judaism from this diversity of religious options and religiosociologial substantiations of faith in Yhwh.

3.  A Research Desideratum: A Broader Perspective on Yahwistic Diversity of Social Groups and Redactions behind Biblical Traditions There is very much still a decisive desideratum in research, namely the one to which this volume is dedicated: although the field now recognizes the formative character of the Persian and early Hellenistic periods for the Hebrew scriptures, and although the religious diversity of “early Judaism” is a well-established and solidly founded research position, there is still a lack of detailed studies that “bridge the gap,” so to speak, between redaction history and the historically tangible groupings. There has been a long tradition in research of identifying biblical redactors and redactor groups as well as the groups of biblical tradents of this period with the social groups of Judea (and especially those of Jerusalem). This is also still the case for the majority of the biblical texts: the Hebrew Bible seems to be, in the end, clearly a Judean-dominated tradition. However, this is not true for all texts. It seems clear that, even if most of the traditions at the surface of the text were shaped from a Judean perspective, this diversity is still reflected in certain biblical traditions or redactional material. In this regard, another question arises: which social groups or redactor groups 23  See Edelman’s terminology from 1995: “Yahwisms”: Edelman, Triumph. In later publications, she speaks of “Judaisms” (cf. Edelman, “Introduction,” 1–5). 24 Hensel, Juda und Samaria, 152–162; idem, “Yahwistic Diversity,” 20–21. 25  See Neusner/Green/Frerichs, Judaisms.

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(Judean as well as “non-Judean”) stand behind the Hebrew Bible’s productional processes? Most fundamentally, the representations of the diverse social groups within the biblical texts can be categorized into two groups which will be discussed in more detail in the following. It should be noted here that this research question is complicated by the fact, that a widespread feature of biblical authorship was anonymity.26 The term “representation” here is chosen to give credit to this feature; it bears in mind that we are not able in every case to exactly identify the redactors, authors, or social groups behind the various biblical traditions. (1)  The first option involves active participation in shaping biblical traditions. In addition to the diverse traditions of Judean scribal groups, the Samarians have been identified and discussed as an influential group who helped shape (at least parts of ) the Pentateuch. Here, this involves above all the thesis, oft-discussed in recent years, of a “Samarian-Judean Pentateuch” (Bernd J. Diebner,27 Gary Knoppers,28 Christophe Nihan,29 Benedikt Hensel30). Diebner can here be regarded as the forefather of considerations of this “Common Pentateuch,” which he – building upon on preliminary work – developed already in the 1980s. Problematic from today’s point of view is how he dated the Torah very late (Hasmonean!), which is no longer tenable. On the positive side, however, Diebner does need to be credited with having recognized and described early the fundamental hermeneutic that sees the Common Torah as a compromise document. Regarding the Samarian participation in the Torah, it should be further emphasized that also – and especially – the Priestly Writing, which comes from the Persian period, is not necessarily an exclusively Judean tradition but also represents Samarian interests, which has since been sufficiently proven;31 this may also be applied, even if to be taken with a grain of salt, to the later redactional additions to Deuteronomy (e. g., Deut 11:29–30 and Deut 27*; possibly already for Deut 12:13–14 – the “unnamed maqom”32). The recent volume by Jaeyoung Jeon, The Social Groups behind the Pentateuch, which documents the results of a 2016 conference on the topic, opens up further perspectives on this phenomenon. Additionally, the volume Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible (published in 2021 by Benedikt Hensel, Dany Nocquet, and Bartosz Adamczewski) shows via diverse detailed studies how important the historical recognition of 26 See

most recently on this Ben Zvi, “Matters of Authorship, Authority, and Power,” 93–113, esp. 102–105. 27  Diebner first in 1983 in idem, “Genesis als Buch der antik-jüdischen Bibel,” 81–98. 28 Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans. 29  Nihan, “The Torah Between Samaria and Judah,” 187–223. 30  Hensel, “Temple and Torah”; and idem, Juda und Samaria, 187–194 (with literature). 31 Rhyder, Centralizing the Cult. 32 See further my considerations in Hensel, “Debating Temple and Torah,” 35–38 (Deut 11:27) and 45–47 (Deut 12); for a different view on how Mt. Gerizim is represented within Deuteronomy see also Otto, “Jerusalem und Garizim im nachexilischen Deuteronomium.”

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certain social groups, who need not necessarily be Judean, is for the redactional history of the Pentateuch (and Hexateuch33). Moving beyond the state of research to this point, the present volume Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions explores the possibility of whether Samarian participation in the production of scripture extended not only to certain areas of the Pentateuch but also to redactional material outside of these that have traditionally been considered purely Judean. Dany Nocquet’s thesis of a Samarian “prophetic” redaction of the books of Kings that he develops in his essay “1 Kgs 20 and 22, a Writing by a Prophetic Narrator? A Reconsideration” would have far-reaching consequences for current theories on the origin of these books as well as other literary contexts (such as the DtrH).34 However, there is need in discussing other groups alongside the Judeans and Samarians that also come into view as having possibly helped form biblical traditions. It should be mentioned here that especially the traditions that the field has identified as simply “Diaspora” redactions, which can be found in material from many biblical traditions stemming from the exilic period onward and across many literary genres, represent a particularly complex situation. The perception of the Diaspora does not only oscillate between the poles of “critical” vs. “positive” but is variegated to several degrees and with its own nuances: sometimes, Diaspora groups are simply rejected altogether, while there are also conceptions that fundamentally appreciate the existence of groups “in the Diaspora” (at least – but not exclusively – Mesopotamia, but possibly also Egypt). Cynthia Edenburg, for example, points to the concept of “delocalized” [my term] worship of Yhwh, which she sees represented in certain layers of Exodus and Leviticus: What is particularly significant for the purpose of maintenance of Yahwistic identity boundaries are the specific directives to be observed “wherever you reside,” and these are the observance of Mazzot (Exod 12:20); Sabbath observance (Exod 35:3; Lev 23:3); refraining from partaking of blood or the fat of meat (Lev 3:17; 7:26); observation of the festival calendar with regard to days requiring cessation from work (Lev 23:21); observation of the Kippurim fast and cessation from work (Lev 23:31); and the laws pertaining to homicide (Num 35:29).35

At issue here, Edenburg continues, is the preservation of “identity boundaries in Diaspora through particular dietary regulations; observance of non-sacrificial customs on festive days, such as Mazzot and the Kippurim fast; cessation from work on the Sabbath and festive days; and adjudicating homicide within the community.”36 Added to this is the concept of a “mobile central shrine” (the tent 33 Otto,

Deuteronomium 12,1–23,15, 1132–1133. See Nocquet, “1 Kgs 20 and 22, a Writing by a Prophetic Narrator? A Reconsideration.” For another possible example of “Samaritan authorship” see Adamczewski, “Othniel and the Unfaithful Concubine: Two Images of the Judean Yahwism from a Northern Perspective.” 35  Edenburg, “Messaging Brothers in Distant Lands,” 215. 36  Edenburg, “Messaging Brothers in Distant Lands,” 216. 34 

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of meeting) within the Priestly Writing, which decouples the Deuteronomistic concept of cult centralization from a specific place (Jerusalem) and in principle allows for a “central shrine” in the Diaspora. The redactional additions to the original cult centralization law (Deut 12:12–14) also display a sense of Diasporic realities from vv. 20 ff. onwards (v. 20a: …  ‫ר־לְך‬ ָ ‫) ִּד ֶּב‬. Some of these “Diaspora conceptions” understand the Diaspora in a positive sense but only while based entirely on the expectation that they will, sooner or later, return to the land of Israel. Other (possibly later) concepts, however, also develop conceptions of diaspora that de facto or pragmatically decouple the group identity from the land: Faith in Yhwh is also – and especially – possible in the Diaspora. The goal of these groups is not to return, since group identity is defined by Yhwh establishing his sanctuary “in their midst” (Ezek 37:26: ‫ְונָ ַת ִּתי‬ ‫ﬠֹולם‬ ָ ‫תֹוכם ְל‬ ָ ‫ת־מ ְק ָּד ִׁשי ְּב‬ ִ ‫ ;) ֶא‬such is the theological conception of, for example, the pro-Babylonian-Golah redaction in Ezekiel, with Ezek 37* as its centerpiece. The theological conception of the vision in the book of Ezekiel can also be viewed along these lines. The vision of Yhwh’s throne in Ezek 1*, the vision of Yhwh’s departure from Jerusalem in Ezek 8–11*, and the vision of the temple in Ezek 40–48* belong to one and the same thematic context, as Christoph Koch has recently demonstrated.37 All of these visions serve the theological conception that takes an exclusively positive stance towards the Babylonian Golah. Thus, this also suggests that representatives of certain “Diaspora” groups were bearers of certain traditions. This is the thesis of a doctoral project currently being undertaken by Kishiya Hidaka, who presents one aspect of this in his article “Leviticus 26 and the Pro-Babylonian-Golah and Pro-Diaspora Redactions in the Context of Identity Formation and Conflict of Yahwistic Groups in the Persian Period.” (2)  Another option for the representation of these groups is what I would call passive participation: certain redactional texts reflect not only Judean realities but also aspects of the religious plurality of this period. Especially the contributions authored by Yigal Levin,38 Magnar Kartveit,39 Charlotte Hempel,40 C. L. Crouch,41 Stephen Germany,42 Ann-Kristin Wigand,43 and Vjatscheslav 37 Koch,

Gottes himmlische Wohnstatt, esp. 133–189. “What Did Ezra and Nehemiah Have against Mixed Marriages?” 39  Kartveit, “The Attitude towards the Northerners in the Book of Chronicles.” 40  See Hempel, “Yahwistic Diversity in the Land of Israel: The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls.” 41  Crouch, “Involuntary Migration, Strategies of Identity Construction, and Religious Diversity after 586 BCE.” 42  Germany, “Gilead in 2 Samuel and the Discourse on Diaspora during the Persian Period.” 43  Wigand, “The Judean Group of Elephantine: Reading Aramaic Literature in the Service of Achaemenid Rule.” 38 Levin,

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Dreier44 in the present volume deal with various aspects of these representations. It should also be mentioned here that exactly these Yahwistic groups, which are attested materially in Idumea and in certain regions of Transjordan (all as part of a complex, fluid, multi-ethnic society) are also evaluated thoroughly ambivalently (but by no means entirely negatively). A nearly positive image of “Edom” can be identified in certain Persian-period redactions that, at its core, is in reference to the relations with certain Yahwist groups in “Edom-in-theNegev,” i. e., Idumea.45

4.  Representation and Negotiation of Identity Perspectives In any case, the findings of the various articles in this volume allow for the conclusion that the diverse redactor groups of the period in question were aware of the multifaceted nature of Yahwistic groups. However, assessments of these other groups are not homogenous; this representation of Yahwistic diversity can be positive or negative, and with or without value judgment. However, this representation of Yahwistic plurality in biblical texts of the Persian and Hellenistic periods shows a shared, recognizable struggle for their own perspectives of identity. In other words, the different traditions and social groups behind the biblical texts establish differing concepts of a “biblical Israel” under the question of who belongs and who does not (anymore). The formation of the biblical traditions thus comprises the counterpart to the historical processes of the formation of Judaism within the “canon” of the various Yahwistic groups. In regard to the process of negotiating “Israelite” identity found in the Hebrew canon, one can comfortably speak of “inner-Israelite processes of differentiation”46 that then also – and here, they function as a reflection of the diversity of this period – stand in a juxtaposition of various conceptions of “Israel” (from being exclusive to Jerusalem [so in Ezr/Neh] all the way to being fully inclusive of the Diaspora47) in the context of later biblical traditions of the Hebrew canon. 44  Dreier,

“The Theological Profile of the Masoretic Book of Esther in the Context of Diverse Yhwh Communities.” 45  See further Hensel, “Think Positive!,” 338–362, esp. 340–348. For the Transjordanian areas (Moab, Ammon and Edom in traditional terminology), there are, in addition to Stephen Germany’s contribution here in this volume, also considerations in Hensel, “Transjordan and Judah from the Babylonian to Hellenistic Periods”; Artus, “Transjordan in the Book of Numbers,” 273–287; (with divergent views) Davis, The End of the Book of Numbers: On Pentateuchal Models and Compositional Issues. 46 Hensel, Juda und Samaria, 312 (for further details, see 302–349 in the same monograph). 47  Worth mentioning here is the Persian-period redaction of the Torah to only five books, which also results in insinuations of “Israel” being a migratory society, since the exodus no longer ends with the Eisodus but with the view of the land  – from the outside. Observable in this is how it emphasizes the Diaspora perspective theologically, which has become an essential element of the Torah (as the foundational document of Judaism). For details, see Hensel, “Grundelemente einer alttestamentlichen Theologie der Migration,” 19–31, esp. 24–27.

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Bibliography Adamczewski, B., “Othniel and the Unfaithful Concubine: Two Images of the Judean Yahwism from a Northern Perspective,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). Alstola, T., Judeans in Babylonia: A Study of Deportees in the Sixth and Fifth Centuries BCE (CHANE 109; Leiden, 2020). Artus, O., “Transjordan in the Book of Numbers,” in: The Social Groups behind the Pentateuch (ed. Y. Jeon; AIL 44, Atlanta, 2021), 273–287. Ben Zvi, E., “Matters of Authorship, Authority, and Power from the Perspective of a Historian of the World of Yehudite/Judean Literati,” in: Authorship and the Hebrew Bible (ed. S. Ammann/K. Pyschny/J. Rhyder; FAT 158; Tübingen, 2022), 93–113. Berlejung, A., “A Sketch of the Life of the Golah in the Countryside of Babylonia,” in: Mass Deportations – To and From the Levant during the Age of Empires in the Ancient Near East (ed. I. Koch; HeBAI 11 Supplement; Tübingen, 2022), 148–188. Beyerle, S., “Intolerance in Early Judaism: Emic and Etic Descriptions of Jewish Religions in the Second Temple Period,” in: Intolerance, Polemics, and Debate in Antiquity: Politico-Cultural, Philosophical, and Religious Forms of Critical Conversation (ed. G. van Kooten/J. van Ruiten; TBN 25; Leiden, 2019), 115–156. Cohen, S. J. D., The Beginning of Jewishness: Boundaries, Varieties, Uncertainties (HCS 31; Berkeley, 1999). Crouch, C. L., “Involuntary Migration, Strategies of Identity Construction, and Religious Diversity after 586 BCE,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). Davis, J., The End of the Book of Numbers: On Pentateuchal Models and Compositional Issues (Archaeology and Bible 6; Tübingen, 2022). Diebner, B. J., “Genesis als Buch der antik-jüdischen Bibel: Eine unhistorisch-kritische Spekulation,” DBAT 17 (1983): 81–98. Dreier, V., “The Theological Profile of the Masoretic Book of Esther in the Context of Diverse Yhwh Communities,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). Edelman, D. V. (ed.), The Triumph of Elohim: From Jahwisms to Judaisms (CBET 3; Kampen, 1995). –, et al. (ed.), Religion in the Achaemenid Persian Empire: Emerging Judaisms and Trends (ORA 17; Tübingen, 2016). Edenburg, C., “Messaging Brothers in Distant Lands. Biblical Texts in Light of Judean, Samarian and Diaspora Target Audiences,” in: Mass Deportations – To and From the Levant during the Age of Empires in the Ancient Near East (ed. I. Koch; HeBAI 11 Supplement; Tübingen, 2022), 204–223. Frevel, C., “Alte Stücke  – Späte Brücke? Zur Rolle des Buches Numeri in der jüngeren Pentateuchdiskussion,” in: Congress Volume München 2013 (ed. C. Maier; VTSup 163; Leiden, 2014), 255–299.



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–, “Der Eine oder die Vielen? Monotheismus und materielle Kultur in der Perserzeit,” in: Gott – Götter – Götzen: XIV. Europäischer Kongress für Theologie (11.–15. September 2011 in Zürich) (ed. C. Schwöbel; VWGTh 38; Leipzig, 2013), 238–265. –, Geschichte Israels (KStTh 2; Stuttgart, 2016). – /Pyschny, K., “A ‘Religious Revolution’ in Yehûd? The Material Culture of the Persian Period as a Test Case: Introduction,” in: A “Religious Revolution” in Yehûd? The Material Culture of the Persian Period as a Test Case (ed. C. Frevel/K. Pyschny; OBO 267; Fribourg, 2014), 1–22. – /Pyschny, K. (ed.), A  “Religious Revolution” in Yehûd? The Material Culture of the Persian Period as a Test Case (OBO 267; Fribourg, 2014). Germany, S., “Gilead in 2 Samuel and the Discourse on Diaspora during the Persian Period,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). Gertz, J. C., et al. (ed.), The Formation of the Pentateuch: Bridging the Academic Cultures of Europe, Israel, and North America (FAT 111; Tübingen, 2016). Granerød, G., Dimensions of Yahwism in the Persian Period: Studies in the Religion and Society of the Judaean Community at Elephantine (BZAW 488; Berlin, 2016). Hempel, C., “Yahwistic Diversity in the Land of Israel: The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). Hensel, B., “Debating Temple and Torah in the Second Temple Period: Theological and Political Aspects of the Final Redaction(s) of the Pentateuch,” in: Torah, Temple, Land. Construction of Judaism in Antiquity (ed. M. Witte/J. Schröter/V. Lepper; TSAJ 184; Tübingen, 2021), 27–49. –, “Grundelemente einer alttestamentlichen Theologie der Migration: ein Beitrag zur aktuellen Debatte um migrationssensible Theologie aus Sicht der alttestamentlichen Wissenschaft,” EvT 82/1 (2022): 19–31. –, “Was there an ‘Idumean Yahwism’? Material and Biblical Evidence on Religion and Yahweh-Worship in Idumea,” in: Yahwism under the Achaemenid Empire in Memoriam Prof. Shaul Shaked (ed. G. Barnea; preliminary title) (forthcoming). –, Juda und Samaria: Zum Verhältnis zweier nach-exilischer Jahwismen (FAT 110; Tübingen, 2016). –, “Think Positive! How the Positive Portrayal of Edom in Late Biblical Texts Leads to New Perspectives on Understanding the Literary History of Genesis, Deuteronomy, and Chronicles,” in: About Edom and Idumea in the Persian Period: Recent Research and Approaches from Archaeology, Hebrew Bible Studies and Ancient Near East Studies (ed. B. Hensel/E. Ben Zvi/D. V. Edelman; Worlds of the Ancient Near East and Mediterranean; Sheffield, 2022), 338–362. –, “Transjordan and Judah from the Babylonian to Hellenistic Periods: Their Cultural, Religious, Economic, and Political Entanglements and Their Impact on the Formation of the Hebrew Bible,” in: Transjordan and the Southern Levant (ed. B. Hensel) (forthcoming). –, “Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: State of the Field, Desiderata and Research Perspectives in a Necessary Debate on the Formative Period of Judaism(s),” in: Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: Tracing Perspectives of Group Identity

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from Judah, Samaria, and the Diaspora in Biblical Traditions (ed. B. Hensel/D. Nocquet/B. Adamczewski; FAT II/120; Tübingen, 2020), 1–44. Hidaka, K., “Leviticus 26 and the Pro-Babylonian-Golah and Pro-Diaspora Redactions in the Context of Identity Formation and Conflict of Yahwistic Groups in the Persian Period,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). Honigman, S./Nihan, C./Lipschits, O. (ed.), Times of Transition: Judea in the Early Hellenistic Period (Mosaics – Studies on Ancient Israel 1; University Park, 2021). Kartveit, M., “The Attitude towards the Northerners in the Book of Chronicles,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). –, The Origin of the Samaritans (VTSup 128; Leiden, 2009). Knoppers, G. N., Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (New York, 2013). Koch, C., Gottes himmlische Wohnstatt: Transformationen im Verhältnis von Gott und Himmel in tempeltheologischen Entwürfen des Alten Testaments in der Exilszeit (FAT 119; Tübingen, 2018). Kratz, R. G., “The Analysis of the Pentateuch: An Attempt to Overcome Barriers of Thinking,” ZAW 128 (2016): 529–561. Kratz, R. G./Schipper, B. U. (ed.), Elephantine in Context. Studies on the History, Religion and Literature of the Judeans in Persian Period Egypt (FAT 155; Tübingen, 2022). Levin, Y., “The Formation of Idumean Identity,” ARAM 27 (2015): 187–202. –, “What Did Ezra and Nehemiah Have against Mixed Marriages?,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). Jeon, Y. (ed.), The Social Groups behind the Pentateuch (AIL 44; Atlanta, 2021). Müller, R./Pakkala, J., Editorial Techniques in the Hebrew Bible. Toward a Refined Literary Criticism (SBLRBS 97; Atlanta, 2022). Neusner, J./Green, W. S./Frerichs, E. (ed.), Judaisms and Their Messiahs at the Turn of the Christian Era (Cambridge, 1987). Nihan, C., “The Torah Between Samaria and Judah: Shechem and Gerizim in Deuteronomy and Joshua,” in: The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for Its Promulgation and Acceptance (ed. G. N. Knoppers/B. M. Levinson; Winona Lake, 2007), 187–223. Nocquet, D., “1 Kgs 20 and 22, a Writing by a Prophetic Narrator? A Reconsideration,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). Otto, E., Deuteronomium 12,1–23,15, Vol. 1 of Deuteronomium 12–34 (HThKAT; Freiburg, 2016). –, “Jerusalem und Garizim im nachexilischen Deuteronomium und die Funktion der Lade als rechtshermeneutischer Indikator für JHWHs Erwählung des einen Ortes,” ZABR 28 (2022), 111–145. Pummer, R., The Samaritans: A Profile (Grand Rapids, 2016). Regev, D./Greenfeld, U., “The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim (2019–2021): Preliminary Findings,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions:



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Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). Rhyder, J., Centralizing the Cult: The Holiness Legislation of Leviticus 17–26 (FAT 134; Tübingen, 2019). Römer, T., “Zwischen Urkunden, Fragmenten und Ergänzungen. Zum Stand der Pentateuchforschung,” ZAW 125 (2013): 2–24. Rohrmoser, A., Götter, Tempel und Kult der Judäo-Aramäer von Elephantine (AOAT 396; Münster, 2014). Schmid, K., “How to Identify a Ptolemaic Period Text in the Hebrew Bible,” in: Times of Transition: Judea in the Early Hellenistic Period (ed. S. Honigman/C. Nihan/O. Lipschits; Mosaics – Studies on Ancient Israel 1; University Park, 2021), 281–292. –, “Textual, Historical, Sociological, and Ideological Cornerstones of the Formation of the Pentateuch,” in: The Social Groups behind the Pentateuch (ed. J. Jeon; AIL 44; Atlanta, 2021), 29–51. Schmid, K./Schröter, J., The Making of the Bible. From the First Fragments to Sacred Scripture (Cambridge, MA, 2021). Schöpf, F., Purity without Borders? Purity Concerns in the Early Jewish Diaspora during the Second Temple Period Regarding the Case of Tall Ziraʾa, Northern Jordan (unpublished PhD thesis; Frankfurt am Main, 2022). Schorch, S., “The Construction of Samari(t)an Identity from the Inside and from the Outside,” in: Between Cooperation and Hostility: Multiple Identities in Ancient Judaism and the Interaction with Foreign Powers (ed. R. Albertz/J. Wöhrle; JAJSup 11; Göttingen, 2013), 135–149. Schütte, W., “The ‘Scroll of David’ – a Samaritan Name of the Book of Samuel? 2 Sam 24 and the Text History of the Jewish Books of Samuel and Kings,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). Uehlinger, C., “‘Powerful Persianisms’ in Glyptic Iconography of Persian Period Palestine,” in: The Crisis of Israelite Religion: Transformation of Religious Tradition in Exilic and Post-Exilic Times (ed. B. Becking/M. Korpel; OtSt 42; Leiden, 1999), 134–182. Wigand, A.‑K., “The Judean Group of Elephantine: Reading Aramaic Literature in the Service of Achaemenid Rule,” in: Social Groups behind Biblical Traditions: Identity Perspectives from Egypt, Transjordan, Mesopotamia, and Israel in the Second Temple Period (ed. B. Hensel/B. Adamczewski/D. Nocquet; Tübingen) (in this volume). Wunsch, C./Pearce, L. E., Judeans by the Waters of Babylon: New Historical Evidence in Cuneiform Sources from Rural Babylonia (Babylonische Archive 6, Dresden) (forthcoming).

Part II

“Inside the Land of Israel”: Different Perspectives in Handling Diversity Inside Judah and Samaria

What Did Ezra and Nehemiah Have against Mixed Marriages? Yigal Levin The book of Ezra-Nehemiah depicts both of its main protagonists, Ezra the scribe (in Ezra 9–10) and Nehemiah the governor (in Nehemiah 13), as dealing with the “problem” of mixed marriages between men of Yehud and women from neighboring nations. These episodes have been dealt with in numerous studies, using many different approaches and with many different underlying basic assumptions. Some treatments have been primarily textual, others primarily historical.1 Some have taken the two episodes as reflecting more-or-less historical events, and have gone on to discuss the relationship between the two protagonists and their motives.2 Others have assumed that only one or the other of the two reports is “historical” and have attempted to analyze that event within its historical context, while treating the other as a literary construction and analyzing it as such.3 Others have assumed the a-priori non-historicity of both reports, and have treated both as literary constructs, composed in order to promote some ideology or other.4 Some studies have focused on so-called “religious” issues, while for others the main issues have been those of “identity,” while others have considered religion and identity to be inseparable.5 Some writers have attempted a holistic approach, while others have focused on specific questions such as the meaning of “holy seed” in Ezra 9 or of “Ashdodite” in Nehemiah 13.6 Some scholars have treated the issue as being basically a local affair, while others have 1 

For a recent combination of the two approaches see recently Moffat, Ezra’s Social Drama. “The Rite of Separation of the Foreign Wives in Ezra-Nehemiah,” does not doubt the basic historicity of the episodes, but considers them to have been “rituals” in which very few women, if any, were actually sent away. 3 See, for example, Becking, Ezra-Nehemiah, 134–135, who describes his own shift in thought: in the past he considered both accounts to refer to the same historical event, but later he came to consider the Nehemiah account to be “a reference to events in the middle of the fifth century BCE,” with the “pseudoepigraphic” Ezra account reflecting a later situation. 4  As does Rice, “The Diachronic Composition of the Shema Reports in Nehemiah 1–6,” when discussing Nehemiah’s “enemies.” 5  For a short discussion see Hobson, “Were Persian-Period ‘Israelites’ Bound by Ethnicity or Religious Affiliation?” See also Japhet, “The Expulsion of the Foreign Women (Ezra 9–10): The Legal Basis, Precedents, and Consequences for the Definition of Jewish Identity.” 6  For a discussion of the term “holy seed” in Ezra and its possible Isaianic roots, see Laato, Message and Composition of the Book of Isaiah, 212–224. For “Ashdodite” see Southwood, “And They Could Not Understand Jewish Speech,” 14–18 and references therein. See also Oeming, 2  Dor,

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gone looking for comparative material as far afield as Athens, Babylonia and Elephantine.7 Some treatments have been synchronic, taking both reports as dealing, whether historically or literarily, with the same issues and speaking with more-or-less the same voice, while other approaches have been diachronic, seeing the issue of mixed marriages within a broader development of Judaism in the early Second Temple Period.8 And finally, some have taken the issues raised by these episodes as a starting off point for discussions of a more contemporary nature.9 Amongst the virtual jungle of books and articles that have appeared in recent years, my goal in this essay is to analyze the “problem” presented by the text within its historical context: why was the issue of “intermarriage” so important to Ezra, Nehemiah and to the writer of the book which bears their names? In the first section of this essay I will lay out my own brief analysis of the relevant biblical texts. I will then go on to compare the relevant extra-biblical material, and then I will attempt to synthesize all of that into an understanding of the social situation of Yehud and of the Judeans within the relevant period.

1.  Ezra and Nehemiah, or the Book of Ezra-Nehemiah? I will start out by stating my primary working assumptions. The first of these is that the text of Ezra-Nehemiah in general and of the relevant chapters in particular reflect, at least in some ways, the historical reality of Judah under Persian rule, at some time in the fifth century BCE. As a working assumption, Ezra and Nehemiah were real people, the former a Judean religious leader who received some sort of royal firman, the latter a royally appointed peḥah, or governor. They “The Spirit of the Book of Nehemiah and the ‘Language of Ashdod’: Nehemiah 13:23–24 as an Anti-Hellenistic Polemic.” 7  For Athens see, for example, Fried, “From Xeno-Philia to -Phobia: Jewish Encounters with the Other”; Oswald, “Foreign Marriages and Citizenship in Persian Period Judah.” Babylonia and Elephantine will be discussed below. 8 See, for example, Smith-Christopher, “The Mixed Marriage Crisis in Ezra 9–10 and Nehemiah 13,” who distinguishes between Ezra’s “priestly perspective” of an internal conflict between the exiles and those who were not in exile and Nehemiah’s “political considerations” about an attempt by the nobles of Judah to advance themselves by “hypergamous” marriages to Sanballat and Tobiah and to the priests in the Temple. Blenkinsopp, “The Social Context of the ‘Outsider Woman’ in Proverbs 1–9,” 460, distinguishes between Ezra’s opposition to exogamy as “chosen deliberately to include elements both inside and outside of the province of Judah … outsiders in respect to the golah-community,” while “by the time of Nehemiah, it seems that the integration of the province had proceeded to the point where the chief danger was perceived to come from outside Judah.” See also Schwartz, “Some Papyri and Josephus.” 9  For example Anderson, “Reflections in an Interethnic/Racial Era on Interethnic/Racial Marriage in Ezra,” 47, sets out “to explore the interpretive challenge posed by such a text to Christian communities that happen to be African American,” while Ruiz, “They Could Not Speak the Language of Judah,” reads it from a Hispanic-American perspective.



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both served during the reign of Artaxerxes I (465–424 BCE), although the exact chronological relationship between them is unclear.10 On the other hand, I recognize that the book of Ezra-Nehemiah is, ultimately, a work of religious literature that has a history of composition and editing and reflects, in the end, the messages and purposes of whoever put it together. From this point of view, it does not really matter whether we are discussing the outlook of Ezra and Nehemiah as historical characters, or as literary creations who parrot the outlook of the writer of the book of Ezra-Nehemiah. Both the characters and the writer were Judeans, living in Persian-Period Yehud, and reacting to the reality of time as they understood it. I also recognize that the writer/editor of Ezra-Nehemiah was dependent on the source-material available to him, at which we can only guess. That said, I believe that we can consider the book of EzraNehemiah to be a reflection of the issues that were important to its writers, of which “intermarriage” was certainly one.

2.  The Ezra Account With all of this in mind, let us turn to Ezra 9–10. Chapter 9 presents itself as a first-person account: After these things had been done, the officials approached me and said, “The people of Israel, the priests, and the Levites have not separated themselves from the peoples of the lands with their abominations, from the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Perizzites, the Jebusites, the Ammonites, the Moabites, the Egyptians, and the Amorites.11 For they have taken some of their daughters as wives for themselves and for their sons. Thus the holy seed12 has mixed itself with the peoples of the lands, and in this faithlessness the officials and leaders have led the way.” When I heard this, I tore my garment and my mantle, and pulled hair from my head and beard, and sat appalled. Then all who trembled at the words of the God of Israel, because of the faithlessness of the returned exiles, gathered around 10  For which see Demsky, “Who came First, Ezra or Nehemiah?: The Synchronistic Approach.” Of course many scholars are much more skeptical. See for example Fried, Ezra and the Law in History and Tradition, 8–27; idem, “Who Was Nehemiah ben Hacaliah?,” who sees both as Persian officials, whose “historical” reality was far removed from the biblical characters who are described in the book. 11  Eskenazi and Judd, “Marriage to a Stranger in Ezra 9–10,” 268, prefer the JPS translation of this verse: “The people of Israel and the priests and the Levites have not separated themselves from the peoples of the lands whose abhorrent practices are like those of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Perizzites, the Jebusites, the Ammonites, the Moabites, the Egyptians, and the Amorites” – in other words stating, not that “the peoples of the lands” are Canaanites, but that they act like Canaanites. In their opinion, the passage does not tell us anything about the women’s actual identity. See also Becking, Ezra-Nehemiah, 140–141, for a range of opinions on the identity of these peoples. 12  As Becking, “On the Identity of the ‘Foreign’ Women in Ezra 9–10,” 32, has shown, the term “holy seed” itself can be seen as a combination of two “traditional descriptions of Israel”: “holy nation” and “seed of Abraham.”

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me while I sat appalled until the evening sacrifice. At the evening sacrifice I got up from my fasting, with my garments and my mantle torn, and fell on my knees, spread out my hands to the Lord my God. (Ezra 9:1–5)13

Ezra then prays to God, confesses the sins of the people compared to God’s ongoing grace, and begs for God’s mercy. At this point, several comments are in order. As many have pointed out, both the language and content of the chapter are rather Deuteronomic, influenced especially by Deut 7:1–4: When the Lord your God brings you into the land that you are about to enter and occupy, and he clears away many nations before you, the Hittites, the Girgashites, the Amorites, the Canaanites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites, seven nations mightier and more numerous than you, and when the Lord your God gives them over to you and you defeat them, then you must utterly destroy them. Make no covenant with them and show them no mercy. Do not intermarry with them, giving your daughters to their sons or taking their daughters for your sons,14 for that would turn away your sons from following me, to serve other gods. Then the anger of the Lord would be kindled against you, and he would destroy you quickly.

However, since the seven Canaanite nations listed in Deut 7 no longer existed at the time of Ezra, the list was “updated” by the addition of the Ammonites, the Moabites, the Egyptians and the Edomites (as a probable correction of “Amorites”), as listed in Deut 23:4 and 8 [ET 3 and 7], but with a twist: there, Israel is instructed not to marry Ammonites and Moabites even to the tenth generation, but not to abhor Edomites and Egyptians, who may be married after three generations.15 Here, all four nations are clumped together as “the peoples of the lands with their abominations.” What gets lost in the translation but is obvious in the Hebrew, is that the words translated “abhor” there and “abomination” here are the same word – tʿb: ‫ לא תתעב‬there and ‫ תועבותיהם‬here.16 An additional point worth noting, is that while Deut 7:1–4 forbids intermarriage with the “seven nations” specifically so that Israelites would not be seduced into 13 

All biblical quotes are from NRSV unless otherwise stated. Eskenazi, “Out from the Shadows: Biblical Women in the Postexilic Era,” 36, states that “it is important to remember that an opposition to foreign women … is at the same time an affirmation of women who belong to the group … Ezra-Nehemiah considers foreign husbands as abhorrent as foreign wives. Consequently, the Judahites solemnly pledge not only to keep their sons from marrying outside the group but likewise to prevent their daughters from doing so. The intermarriage prohibitions of Ezra-Nehemiah are consistently symmetrical … this dismissal of foreign wives is an opposition to some women in favor of others.” 15 Of course literally speaking, “no Ammonite or Moabite shall be admitted into the assembly” does not refer specifically to marriage, but this was certainly the way that it was interpreted by the author of Ezra-Nehemiah. For the interpretation of this clause see Tigay, Deuteronomy, 209–210, 477–480. 16  Smith-Christopher, “The Mixed Marriage Crisis,” 255, considers this term to be “late,” appearing predominantly in Ezekiel (5:9, 11; 7:3, 8; 16:22, 36 and more) and in the Priestly texts of the Pentateuch (Lev 18:24–30). 14 



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worshipping those nations’ gods, Ezra 9 actually does not mention the danger of apostasy, but rather refers to the very act of mixing with the “unclean” nations of the land as a grave sin in its own right.17 Chapter 10 of Ezra then goes on to tell, this time in the third person, how one Shechaniah son of Jehiel encouraged Ezra to take action, which eventually, after many months, led to the men of the community “putting out”18 their foreign wives and their children, with the final section listing a total of 17 priests, 6 Levites, 4 other temple functionaries and 84 “Israelites,” meaning laity, who had married these “foreign women.”19

3.  The Nehemiah Narrative The story in Nehemiah 13 is quite different. Here, coming right after the dedication of the wall, On that day they read from the book of Moses in the hearing of the people; and in it was found written that no Ammonite or Moabite should ever enter the assembly of God, because they did not meet the Israelites with bread and water, but hired Balaam against them to curse them. (Neh 13:1–2)

In other words, Deut 23:4 once again. But in this account, when the people heard, they, without any resistance, “separated from Israel all those of foreign descent” – without asking whether they were Moabite, Ammonite or something else. The story then goes on to tell us that Eliashib the priest, who was related by marriage to Tobiah, had taken advantage of Nehemiah’s absence and had commandeered a chamber in the Temple complex for his kinsman’s use. Nehemiah threw out Tobiah’s belongings and restored the chamber to its original function, making some additional adjustments as well. We should note that Tobiah’s status as a “foreigner” is not specified in this section, and Eliashib’s transgression seems 17  Although even the term “marriage” is not easy to define in this context. See Southwood, “The Holy Seed: The Significance of Endogamous Boundaries and Their Transgression in Ezra 9–10,” 190–196. 18  As noted by Japhet, “The Expulsion of the Foreign Women,” 152, the verb that is generally translated “divorce” here is lehoṣiʾ rather than the usual šlḥ or grš; Japhet understands this to mean that the marriages were “annulled” rather than terminated by divorce. This has consequences for the legal status of the children. 19  Although, famously, the final verse of MT Ezra 10, which, if translated literally, would read, “All of these had taken foreign women, among whom were women, and they placed sons,” or, as rendered by KJV, “All these had taken strange wives: and some of them had wives by whom they had children,” or NJPS, “All these had married foreign women, among whom were some women who had borne children” (with a note: “Meaning of Heb. uncertain”), does not actually state that the foreign women and their children had been sent away. This is “amended” by 1 Esd 9:39, which ends with καὶ ἀπέλυσαν αὐτὰς σὺν τέκνοις, adopted by NRSV here as “and they sent them away with their children.” See the discussion in Blenkinsopp, Ezra-Nehemiah, 200–201.

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to be one of administrative corruption, not specifically “religious.” He is also not censured for intermarrying with Tobiah’s family. However, preceded as it is by the reference to Deut 23:4, and with the readers’ foreknowledge that Tobiah is an “Ammonite servant” (Neh 2:10, 19, “servant” apparently meaning a royal official), the reader is obviously meant to be alert to the issue.20 But it is only after the description of Nehemiah’s Sabbath enforcement, that the issue of mixed marriages takes center stage: In those days also I saw Jews who had married women of Ashdod, Ammon, and Moab; and half of their children spoke the language of Ashdod,21 and they did not know to speak the language of Judah, but spoke the language of various peoples. And I contended with them and cursed them and beat some of them and pulled out their hair; and I made them take an oath in the name of God, saying, “You shall not give your daughters to their sons, or take their daughters for your sons or for yourselves. Did not King Solomon of Israel sin on account of such women? Among the many nations there was no king like him, and he was beloved by his God, and God made him king over all Israel; nevertheless, foreign women made even him to sin. Shall we then listen to you and do all this great evil and act treacherously against our God by marrying foreign women?” And one of the sons of Jehoiada, son of the high priest Eliashib, was the son-in-law of Sanballat the Horonite; I chased him away from me. Remember them, O my God, because they have defiled the priesthood, the covenant of the priests and the Levites. Thus I cleansed them from everything foreign, and I established the duties of the priests and Levites, each in his work; and I provided for the wood offering, at appointed times, and for the first fruits. Remember me, O my God, for good. (Neh 13:23–31)

A few comments here: First of all, not a few scholars have suggested that the mention of Ammon and Moab is secondary, added due to the previous reference to Deut 23, since the language issue pertains only to “Ashdodite.”22 Second, after his tantrum Nehemiah also goes on to paraphrase Deut 7, adding to it the historical example of Solomon, whose foreign wives turned him away from God. And finally, as a counterbalance to the Eliashib-Tobiah affair at the beginning of the chapter, Nehemiah also chases away a grandson of another Eliashib, this time the high priest, who was married to the daughter of “Sanballat the Horonite.” And while the chapter (and in fact the entire book) never states specifically that Sanballat is a non-Israelite,23 by doing so, he “cleansed them from everything foreign” and set the Temple back on the right path. However, like Ezra 9, Nehemiah 13 also does not specifically refer to the danger of apostasy, despite of its use of the words ‫החטיאו‬, “made to sin” and ‫למעל‬, “act treacherously” and despite 20 

See Edelman, “Seeing Double: Tobiah the Ammonite as an Encrypted Character.” ‫ובניהם חצי מדבר אשדודית‬, literally, “and their sons half speak Ashdodite.” For a discussion of the identity of this language see Berlejung, “Was ist eigentlich ‘A schdodisch’?” 22  See Blenkinsopp, Ezra-Nehemiah, 362; see Becking, Ezra-Nehemiah, 327 and references there. 23  Or a governor of Samaria, a detail which we know from Josephus and from the Elephantine papyri. See, for example, Dušek, “Archaeology and Texts in the Persian Period: Focus on Sanballat.” 21 

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33

the fact that according to 1 Kgs 11, what King Solomon’s foreign wives did was to cause him to worship their gods. In other words, where in Deuteronomy the problem with marrying Canaanite women was the threat of their gods, in EzraNehemiah the problem lies elsewhere.

4.  Who were the Foreign Women? An additional issue that has generated much discussion is the identity of the “foreign women” whom Ezra and Nehemiah wished to remove and whom the author of the book wished to disqualify as marriage partners. In Ezra 9, they are defined simply as “foreign,” daughters of “the peoples of the land.” Nehemiah 13:23 is even more specific: “women of Ashdod, Ammon, and Moab.” Traditionally, this has been understood to mean that they were “non-Judeans,” members of the various ethnicities with whom the Judeans shared the Land of Israel. This is certainly the literal meaning of the text. However in recent years several scholars have come to assume that behind the text lies an inner-Judean polemic over the relationship of the golah group of returned exiles with the descendants of the “remainers,” the Judeans who had not been exiled.24 Broadly speaking, the discourse of recent years has focused on the issues of “identity.” Many scholars have come to see the ‫בני הגולה‬, the returnees, as a small minority of exilic Jews that were forced upon a majority of unexiled “remainers.”25 According to this view, this minority golah group, with its exile-formed Torah, did not consider the “remainers” to be legitimate Israelites, even if they did worship Yahweh in their own fashion. The same applied to the Yahweh-worshipping inhabitants of Samaria and of Transjordan. And so while, over time, some of the golah relaxed their self-imposed boundaries, Ezra and Nehemiah, both newly arrived and in possession of renewed royal charters, reinforced the separationist party. But “identity,” as scholars have come to realize, is an ill-defined concept. Recent work by Becking, Rom-Shiloni, Southwood and others, has emphasized how the term “identity” is used differently in different circles; anthropologists, religion scholars, political historians and philosophers each have their own 24 This

position has been adopted by Eskenazi and Judd, “Marriage to a Stranger in Ezra 9–10,” 285; Grabbe, “The Reality of the Return: The Biblical Picture Versus Historical Reconstruction,” 305. Washington, “The Strange Woman (‫נכריה‬/‫ )אשה זרה‬of Proverbs 1–9 and Post-Exilic Judean Society,” 231–238, agrees that the women were unexiled Judeans, but thinks that the threat was primarily economic: control of property. 25  As asserted by Barstad, The Myth of the Empty Land. Despite the fact that from an archaeological perspective Barstad’s ideas have been largely discredited (for example, by Faust, Judah in the Neo-Babylonian Period: The Archaeology of Desolation), they are still often cited. See, for example. Barmash, “Success and Failure, Resistance and Submission: Nuanced Identities and Relationships during the Return and Early Persian Period,” 19.

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multiple definitions.26 One of the problems with the term is that “identity” seems to work in many different but overlapping circles: personal, kinship, ethnicity, religion, language, nationality, citizenship, class, gender and so on. Each of these can be viewed through either an etic or an emic perspective. Which, in our case, brings us back to the question of sources; since the biblical material has been analyzed extensively, we should look for additional insights elsewhere. “Elsewhere” in this case mostly means inscriptions, although we do have Josephus’ intriguing story of the brother of the Jerusalem high priest who married the daughter of Sanballat of Samaria (Ant 11.302–303).27 Fortunately, the known corpus of Persian-period texts from both the Land of Israel and from the diaspora, which can supply us with information on the “identity” of ‫( יהודים‬the single Hebrew term can be translated as Yehudites, Judahites, Judeans or Jews as the occasion and conventional English usage warrant) and their neighbors seems to be expanding continuously.28 These papyri, ostraca, stamp impressions and clay tablets provide invaluable information on onomastica, religious affiliations, marital choices and other identity-factors.29

5.  Boundaries in the Diaspora: Babylonia Beginning with the eastern diaspora, the collection of documents belonging to the Murašû merchant family of Nippur in the fifth century BCE, roughly contemporaneous with Nehemiah and Ezra, has been known since 1893.30 In these texts, Judeans, as defined by their Yahwistic names, make up no more than 3 % of the population.31 More recently, these documents have been supplemented by tablets from āl-Yahudu and neighboring settlements.32 These tablets date to 26  For several examples of the complex ways in which “identity” can be defined, see Becking, “Yehudite Identity in Elephantine,” 403–404; Southwood, “The Holy Seed,” 195–197; idem, Ethnicity and the Mixed Marriage Crisis in Ezra 9–10, 19–72 (there focusing on the definitions of “ethnicity”). Hobson, “Were Persian-Period ‘Israelites’ Bound by Ethnicity or Religious Affiliation?,” 39–41, attempts to differentiate between “ethnicity” as defined by Sparks (Ethnicity and Identity) and “religious affiliation.” 27  See Tammuz, “Will the Real Sanballat Please Stand Up?” 28 For example, see Dušek, “Archaeology and Texts in the Persian Period: Focus on Sanballat.” 29 For comments on names as indications of Judean identity see Beaulieu, “Yahwistic Names in Light of Late Babylonian Onomastics.” 30  For the Murašû texts in general see Stolper, Entrepreneurs and Empire: The Murašû Archive, the Murašû Firm, and Persian Rule in Babylonia. 31 Zadok, The Jews in Babylonia during the Chaldean and Achaemenian Periods According to the Babylonian Sources, 23, 78; Pearce, “‘Judean’: A Special Status in Neo-Babylonian and Achemenid Babylonia?,” 270–271. 32 For preliminary publications see Pearce, “New Evidence for Judeans in Babylonia”; Lambert, “A Document from a Community of Exiles in Babylonia”; Abraham, “An Inheritance Division among Judeans in Babylonia from the Early Persian Period.”



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the sixth century, and thus help us bridge the gap between the Neo-Babylonian period and the Persian period. Studies by Zadok, Pearce and others have shown that about 15–20 % of the names in these tablets are Yahwistic and presumably Judean.33 However, since it is fairly common for immigrant minorities to adopt local names, any number of the 50 % of Babylonian names could be those of Judeans as well. This is comparable to such names as Mordechai, Sheshbazzar and Zerubabbel of the Bible.34 There are also quite a few father-son pairs, in which one is a Judean name and the other is Babylonian, including those with such theophoric elements as Bēl and Šamaš. Again, not surprising; some Judeans, following accepted practice, may well have adopted worship of the local deities in addition to their own, while for others, such names that we identify as “theophoric” may, to them, have been “just local names” with no particular religious significance. But despite Beaulieu’s comments on the limitations of theophoric names as indicators of identity,35 we should add, that names are often a significant identity marker among minorities, such as the Judeans in Babylonia undoubtedly were.36 Thus, when comparing the sixth-century ālYahudu texts with the fifth-century Murašû tablets, we can see the percentage of Judean-Yahwistic names getting smaller, as the status of the people mentioned changed from serfs living on crown lands to independent merchants.37 Overall, this indicates a process of acculturation or assimilation, although there is not enough data for any real quantitative analysis.38 This, together with such biblical evidence as the lists of returnees in Ezra-Nehemiah, which include a fairly large number of non-Judean names,39 shows that at least from an onomastic pointof-view, some Judeans in Babylon did not maintain strong identity-boundaries. 33 Zadok, The Jews in Babylonia during the Chaldean and Achaemenian Periods; Pearce, “New Evidence for Judeans in Babylonia”; idem, “‘Judean’: A Special Status in Neo-Babylonian and Achaemenid Babylonia?,” 267–277. 34  For which see Demsky, “Double Names in the Babylonian Exile and the Identity of Sheshbazzar.” 35  Beaulieu, “Yahwistic Names in Light of Late Babylonian Onomastics,” 247. 36  In fact, Beaulieu himself (“Yahwistic Names in Light of Late Babylonian Onomastics,” 254–255) provides an interesting parallel: the existence of “Assyrian” names with the theophoric element Aššur in Uruk, where a temple honoring this god may have been established after the conquest of Assyria by the Neo-Babylonians. Another interesting parallel can be found among Jews in third-century BCE Egypt, among whom, as pointed out by Hacham (“The Third Century BCE: New Light on Egyptian Jewish History from the Papyri,” 133), “a typically Jewish name corroborates Jewishness; on the other hand, a non-Jewish name means nothing and cannot negate its bearer’s Jewishness … even if the spouses of Jews bear non-Jewish – Egyptian or Greek – names, their Jewishness should be assumed unless otherwise stated.” 37  The status of the āl-Yahudu Judeans as dependents tied to the land is demonstrated by use of ḫaṭru terminology such as šušānû, “individuals who are not quite chattel slaves nor fully free.” See Pearce, “‘Judean’: A Special Status in Neo-Babylonian and Achaemenid Babylonia?,” 270–274. 38  See also Bloch, “Judeans in Sippar and Susa during the First Century of the Babylonian Exile,” who shows that naming patterns also depended on social status and other factors. 39  Becking, “On the Identity of the ‘Foreign’ Women in Ezra 9–10,” 35–36, emphasizes the

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6.  Boundaries in the Diaspora: Elephantine The Elephantine material, at least the papyri, are much better known and have been studied much more intensively. In addition to the papyri, most of which represent official correspondence, we also have ostraca, which give us a more “everyday” look at the community.40 Very briefly, these materials represent a community of ‫יהודיא‬, “Judahites,” who were part of a Persian military garrison on the island. There is no agreement among scholars as to the time or circumstances of the founding of the colony.41 They lived in proximity to Arameans, native Egyptians and others. They wrote, and presumably spoke, in Aramaic. They worshiped in a temple of YHW, which was situated near a temple of the Egyptian deity Khnum, and at least in the ostraca were known to bless and swear in the name of both.42 They also apparently recognized gods of “Bethel,” Eshembethel, Herembethel and Anathbethel, as well as an Anath-Yaho.43 They knew of the Passover and the Sabbath, although we have no idea what form these observances took.44 In Lemaire’s opinion, their “ethnicity was mainly apparent as marked by religion and ritual.”45 They were in contact with officials in both Yehud and Samaria. This, and the fact that in the so-called “Passover Letter,” a certain official in the Persian administration whose name Hananiah can be seen as an indication of his identity as a “Judean,” calls the Judeans of Elephantine “my brothers,”46 showing a solidarity that assumed a shared identity of some sort. However, they also seem to have maintained rather flexible ethnic boundaries. Many of them bore Yahwistic names, but some clearly did not. For example, in one papyrus, a certain “Ananiah son of Azariah, a servitor (‫ )לחן‬of YHW the God who is in Elephantine the Fortress” asks “Meshullam son of Zakkur, an Aramean of Syene” to give him his maidservant Tamet (also called “Tapamet”) as a wife. The name Tamet/Tapamet is Egyptian, and she is often assumed to have been appearance of names with foreign theophoric elements such as Mordechai (Marduk), Bilshan (Bel) and Barqos (Qos), while Beaulieu “Yahwistic Names in Light of Late Babylonian Onomastics,” 255–256, actually downplays their significance. 40  For a summary see Lemaire, “Judean Identity in Elephantine: Everyday Life according to the Ostraca.” 41  For a summary see Becking, “Yehudite Identity in Elephantine,” 404–405. 42  Lemaire, “Judean Identity in Elephantine,” 366, 369. There are also three cases of swearing “by the life of YHW Ṣebaʾot.” 43  Becking, “Yehudite Identity in Elephantine,” 413–414, although Porten, Archives from Elephantine, 173–179, followed by Grabbe, “Elephantine and the Torah,” 127–128, believe that these are “aspects of Yhw,” rather than actual deities. 44  Grabbe, “Elephantine and the Torah,” 129–132; Lemaire, “Judean Identity in Elephantine,” 370; Becking, “Yehudite Identity in Elephantine,” 406–409. 45  Lemaire, “Judean Identity in Elephantine,” 372. 46  Kratz, “Judean Ambassadors and the Making of Jewish Identity: The case of Hananiah, Ezra, and Nehemiah,” 424–426.

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37

an Egyptian herself, but just her name does not preclude her being of Judean ancestry, any more than it did the Babylonian-named Zerubbabel or Mordechai or Esther. In Tamet’s case, we simply have no indication of her “ethnicity.” The name of her child Pilṭi is Semitic. The daughter that she had with Ananiah was called Yehoyishmaʿ, certainly Yahwistic, like that of her father. In another case, Esḥor son of Ṣeha, apparently an Egyptian, marries Mibţaḥiah, daughter of Maḥseiah, called an Aramean from Syene but also called a Judean. Since Esḥor and Mibţaḥiah had no children that we know of, we don’t know what their status would have been. In any case we clearly see that even if endogamy was the norm in the community it was not universal, and that there is no indication that these people were ostracized by the rest of the community for “marrying out.”47

7.  Boundaries in the Land of Israel And now back home, to the Land of Israel. The tiny province of Yehud was surrounded by other groups. The closest relations were of course the people of Samaria. From the various written sources and archaeological data it would seem that the population there was a mixture of the descendants of those Israelites whom the Assyrians had neglected to exile in the eighth century BCE, the descendants of the people that the Assyrians had imported at that time, and perhaps others who had migrated since.48 But we must remember that the Assyrian forced migrations had occurred three centuries before the time of Ezra and Nehemiah, and that the two groups had had plenty of time to intermix. By the fifth century, it seems that the majority of the population was Yahwistic, although the onomastic record does reflect some other loyalties as well. According the one of the Elephantine letters, the sons of Sanballat, whose name honors a Mesopotamian deity, were called Shelemiah and Delaiah, both Yahwistic – a pattern that we also saw in āl-Yahudu.49 We have no way of knowing what the Samarians’ emic view of their identity was at this time. It is interesting that none of the documents that we have from the Persian Period use the word “Israel.”50 47 

See Becking, “Yehudite Identity in Elephantine,” 410. Levin, “Bi-Directional Forced Deportations in the Neo-Assyrian Empire and the Origins of the Samaritans: Colonialism and Hybridity.” 49  Dušek, “Archaeology and Texts in the Persian Period: Focus on Sanballat,” 180. 50  The earliest known emic reference to this term in a Samaritan context is from the second century BCE inscriptions found at Delos, which refer to “The Israelites in Delos who send their temple tax to sacred Argarizein.” As emphasized by Kartveit, “Samaritan Self-Consciousness in the First Half of the Second Century B. C. E. in Light of the Inscriptions from Mount Gerizim and Delos,” this shows that by this time, these people had developed a self-identification as “Israelite.” This does not, however, show that they identified as such in the fifth or fourth centuries. For a recent summary of research on the Delos site see Trümper, “The Synagogue in Delos Revisited.” 48 

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In the Wadi Daliyeh documents they are the people of ‫שמרין בירתא זי בשמרין‬ ‫מדינתא‬, “Samaria the city/fortress that is in Samaria the province.” Of the theophoric names in these documents, the majority are Yahwistic, although there is also a Qwsdqr and a Qwsnhr, “QWS” being the god of Edom/Idumea (on which see below). But as Becking has argued, this is too small a sample to really draw any conclusions about “multi-ethnicity” of the population of Samaria. He does, however, point out that in the dedicatory inscriptions from this period found at the Mount Gerizim site, there are no non-Yahwistic theophoric names51 – which of course makes sense at a shrine to Yahweh. It would seem that to at least some of the people of Yehud, the division between Jerusalem and Samaria was more administrative and political than it was ethnic or religious.52 This also seems to have been the view of the “Judeans” of Elephantine. It is also clear, that to at least some people in Yehud, including Eliashib the high priest, the Yahwists of Samaria were legitimate marriage partners. There were also Yahwists living in other places outside of Yehud. Yahwistic names have been found on Persian-period ostraca at presumably Phoeniciancontrolled Jokneam and at Tell el-Mazar on the eastern side of the Jordan Valley, in what may have been Tobiah’s territory.53 The Tobiads were certainly married into leading Jerusalem families, and we should not be surprised to find other Judahites living in their territory as well, since Neh 4:12 tells us that “the Jews who lived among them” – ”them” referring to Sanballat and Tobiah, but also to “the Arabs, the Ammonites and the Ashdodites” – came to warn Nehemiah of his enemies’ plot.54 However the most immediate and compelling evidence comes from Yehud’s southern frontier: the southern hills, the southern Shephelah and the Negev. This area had been a part of the kingdom of Judah until 586 BCE, and presumably most of its sedentary population had been Judahite and had suffered the 51 

Becking, “On the Identity of the ‘Foreign’ Women in Ezra 9–10,” 38. Hensel, “The Chronicler’s Polemics towards the Samarian YHWH-Worshippers: A Fresh Approach,” 44, cites 2 Macc 5:22 f., 6:1 f. and Sir 50:25 f. (Hebrew version), as pre-Hasmonean Jewish sources that see “the Samaritan YHWH worshippers … as part of the same γένος as the Jews.” 53  Naveh, “Published and Unpublished Aramaic Ostraca,” 119–120; Yassine and Teixidor, “Ammonite and Aramaic Inscriptions from Tell el-Mazār in Jordan,” 49. The Jokneam ostraca lists an ʿAqabiah, a name that also appears at Arad. At Tell el-Mazār we have a Yehoyadaʿ and a Yehoyahab. At both sites, the Yahwistic names are inscribed together with names with other theophoric elements, although, as emphasized by Becking, “On the Identity of the ‘Foreign’ Women in Ezra 9–10,” 37–38, we do not really know who the people listed on these ostraca were or why they were listed: “The list might reflect some soldiers and/or officers in Persian service” or “a listing of taxpayers or of merchants.” In other words, we do not know how representative these names are of the general population of the region. 54  See Porter, “What Sort of Jews were the Tobiads” for a discussion of the question of their “Jewishness”; Hobson, “Were Persian-Period ‘Israelites’ Bound by Ethnicity or Religious Affiliation?” focuses on the way the Yahwistic population of Transjordan was seen by “the literati of Yehud.” 52 



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39

same fate as the rest of the population of Judah: some exiled and some remained. We do have evidence of both Arabs and Edomites living in the area prior to 586, and at some point the area was detached from Judah and handed over to the Qedarite Arabs.55 From the many ostraca found at Beer-sheba, Arad, Lachish, Mareshah and especially from those belonging to the so-called Khirbet el-Kom/ Makkedah corpus, it is clear that the population of the area was mixed. From the various analyses of the epigraphic material undertaken by Zadok, Naveh, Porten, Lemaire, Eshel, Stern and others, we find a very high percentage (about 30 %) of names that could be characterized linguistically as “Arabian,” “Edomite” names at about 25 %, with the next largest specific groups being Aramaic and Judahite/Hebrew. At the bottom of the list are Egyptians, Phoenicians and others.56 When theophoric elements are listed, we find that the Edomite QWS is the most common, followed by El, Baal, YHW(H) and a handful of others.57 Assuming that there is some correspondence (although not one-on-one) between language, worship of “national” deities and identity, we can see that a large segment of the population was of Arabian descent, almost as many were Edomites, a minority were Judahites and others. Thus, while most worshippers of QWS would probably identify as “Edomite/Idumean,” and most worshipers of YHWH would be considered “Judahites/Judeans,” use of such divine titles as “Baal,” “El” and so on would be much less indicative. Since Aramaic was the lingua franca of the time, Aramaic names do not necessarily mean anything – as opposed to the situation at Elephantine and Syene, where “Arameans” were a specific group. The distribution of these names, however, is not even. As emphasized by Naveh, at Arad most of the “officers” of the fortress seem to have had Hebrew or Yahwistic names, while most of the people to whom the supplies were given had Arabic names. QWS-names were in the minority.58 Following this, Eshel and Zissu speculated that Judeans made up a significant part of the troops commanded by the Qedarites in the area, perhaps explaining the interest of “Geshem the Arab” in the affairs of the Jerusalem Temple.59 The onomasticon of the ostraca found at Tel Beer-sheba, on the other hand, is different. Of the tax-paying farmers listed there, about a third have clearly Arabic names, another third include the element QWS, and most of the rest are 55  Probably in the wake of Cambyses’ campaign to Egypt in 525 BCE, on which see Levin, “The Southern Frontier of Yehud and the Creation of Idumea.” 56  Zadok, “A Prosopography of Samaria and Edom/Idumea”; Porten, “Theophorous Names in Idumean Ostraca”; Levin, “The Religion of Idumea and Its Relationship to Early Judaism,” 7–8. 57  For the little we know about QWS see Levin, “The Religion of Idumea and Its Relationship to Early Judaism,” 8–10. 58  Naveh, “The Aramaic Ostraca from Tel Arad.” 59  For people with Yahwistic names at Arad, which was in the Qedarite Arab territory, see Eshel and Zissu, “Two Notes on the History and Archaeology of Judea in the Persian Period,” 828–831, although the ostraca cited there are from the fourth century BCE, not the fifth.

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of a general nature. Naveh lists one Iranian name (bgn) and one “apparently Jewish” name (dlwy).60 At Mareshah as well, we find that most of the names are Arabic and Edomite, some even traceable to Transjordan. In her analysis of the ostraca found at Mareshah through the 2000 excavation season, Eshel recorded 12 “QWS” names, 7 “Baal” names, 4 with “El” and 3 with YW or YH.61 In a table summarizing “the ethnic breakdown of the Idumean ostraca,” Ian Stern compared the names found at Arad, Beer-sheba, Mareshah and “Unknown Provenance” (mostly referring to the ostraca attributed to Khirbet el-Kôm/ Makkedah). At Arad, 61.22 % are Judahites, 14.30 % Idumean and 12.24 % Arab, while in Beer-sheba 42.62 % are Arabs, 24.59 % Idumeans and less than 20 % Judahites. In the Mareshah names and those of “unknown provenance” (i. e. Makkedah), Arab names make up just over 30 %, Idumeans around 25 %, Judahites under 10 % and “Western Semitic” just under 30 %. Looked at diachronically, the percentage of Judahites was decreasing over time. By the fourth century BCE, worshippers of QWS were almost in the majority, with YHWHworshippers at under 4 %.62 Like at Elephantine, Judahites in the south of Judah lived in close proximity to others. In his reading of one of the “Makkedah” ostraca, Lemaire suggested that the byt yhw mentioned after byt ʿzʾ (Uzza being an Arabian goddess) was none other than a temple of Yahweh, situated somewhere in Idumea, perhaps at Makkedah. This same ostracon includes Edomite names like Qwsdnʾ and Qwslʾt, the Yahwistic Qanyo, and the names Hazir, Neraʾ and Galgula, which are also known from the Judahite onomasticon.63 Since most of the epigraphic material that we have from the Land of Israel is fragmentary and singular in nature, with the vast majority of the finds listing no more than single names, and with no way to connect the different finds over generations, the “Makkedah” material, like the āl-Yahudu archive, gives us a very rare opportunity to understand the internal structure of this society. Porten, in his many studies of the ostraca, has traced several clans’ “dossiers” over several generations: the clans of Qosḥanan, of Yehokal, of Qoṣi, of Gur, of Ḥori, of Rawi, of Alba‘al and of Ba‘alrim. Of these eight “clans,” the first would seem to be Idumean, the second Judahite, and the last two “Canaanite” or “Phoenician.” However in his own study of the ostraca, Stern has shown that there was a substantial amount of flexibility and intermixing between the different “ethnic groups.” For example, of the members of the “Gur” clan, 31 % had 60  Naveh, J., “The Aramaic Ostraca from Tel Beer-sheba”; for the name dlwy see idem, “The Aramaic Ostraca from Tel Arad,” 167. 61  Eshel, “The Onomasticon of Mareshah in the Persian and Hellenistic Periods.” 62  Stern, “The Population of Persian-period Idumea According to the Ostraca: A Study of Ethnic Boundaries and Ethnogenesis,” 212–213. 63 Lemaire, “Another Temple to the Israelite God: Aramaic Hoard Documents Life in Fourth Century B. C.”; idem, “New Aramaic Ostraca from Idumea and their Historical Interpretation.”

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Arabic names, while another 31 % had Edomite (QWS) names. Fully half the members of the “Phoenician” Ba‘alrim family had Arabic names, almost 25 % had Edomite names, one was Egyptian and only one was actually “Phoenician.” Of the originally “Judahite” Yehokal family, over half had Edomite names, almost 30 % were Arabic, two were Egyptian and none were Judahite or Yahwistic. Stern, following Tainter and Faust, understood the conditions in the region in the Persian Period as being those of a “post collapse” society: depopulated, bereft of urban centers, with trade just beginning to pick up. Such conditions often cause different groups to lower their ethnic and cultural boundaries, as needed for survival.64 In other words, a family that may have been descended from the preexilic Judahites now found itself in the minority and adapted its identity to that of what had become the majority. By the time of the fourth-century Makkedah corpus, none of that clan’s descendants were given Yahwistic names.65

8. Conclusion The stories of Ezra and Nehemiah are set between the “post-collapse” sixth century and the relative prosperity of the fourth. Ezra and Nehemiah, as depicted in the book that carries their name, were concerned with building a society whose only loyalty would be to the Torah, as they understood it.66 They were concerned with a Judean society which would carry on the Covenant between God and Israel. However, despite the book’s emphasis on redemption and success (in building the Temple, in building the city, in re-establishing an autonomous commonwealth within a benevolent empire), the reality was harsh.67 What they saw around them, in Babylonia, in Egypt and in the Land of Israel, was that Judeans, as a minority, were slowly but surely disappearing. Indeed, by the third century BCE, both the Babylonian and the Elephantine communities had disappeared – we have no documentation of continuity between them and the later, Hellenistic-Period Jewish communities of either Egypt or Babylonia. In order to achieve their agenda, Ezra and Nehemiah, as represented in the book than bears their names, attempted to reinforce the boundaries by teaching and enforcing the Torah, celebrating the festivals, enforcing the Sabbath, and also by enforcing 64  Stern,

“The Population of Persian-period Idumea According to the Ostraca: A Study of Ethnic Boundaries and Ethnogenesis,” 213–215. 65  For more on the Yehokal clan see Porten and Yardeni, “In Preparation of a Corpus of Aramaic Ostraca from the Land of Israel: The House of Yehokal.” 66  There has been much discussion about the concept of “Torah” in the Persian period and its relation to a particular written document. For a recent summary see Schaper, “Torah and Identity in the Persian Period.” 67  This can be seen especially in the dissonance between the way in which Jerusalem is pictured in Ezra-Nehemiah and the archaeological evidence of the city in the Persian Period, on which see Levin, “Persian-Period Jerusalem in the Shadow of Destruction.”

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endogamy. Clearly, not all Judeans of the time agreed. The Chronicler for one,68 perhaps the author of Ruth,69 certainly Ezra and Nehemiah’s opponents within our story, and again, it does not really matter whether Eliashib one and Eliashib two, Sanballat the Horonite and Tobiah the Ammonite Servant were real people or literary representations of those Judeans who disagreed with our author. But our author, and Ezra and Nehemiah as represented by our author, considered the maintenance of cultural and ethnic boundaries to be of utmost importance. Ingo Kottsieper suggested that the reason that it was so important to Nehemiah that the children of Judah know how to speak “Yehudit” was so that they could understand the Torah.70 He may have a point. To the author of Ezra-Nehemiah, it was only the Torah that could serve as the basis for the new Judean commonwealth.

Bibliography Abraham, K., “An Inheritance Division among Judeans in Babylonia from the Early Persian Period (from the Moussaieff Tablet Collection),” in: New Seals and Inscriptions: Hebrew, Idumean, and Cuneiform (ed. M. Lubetski; HBM 8; Sheffield, 2007), 206–221. Anderson, C. B., “Reflections in an Interethnic/Racial Era on Interethnic/Racial Marriage in Ezra,” in: They Were All Together in One Place? Toward Minority Biblical Criticism (ed. R. C. Bailey/T. B. Liew/F. F. Segovia; SemeiaSt 57; Atlanta, 2009), 47–64. Barmash, P., “Success and Failure, Resistance and Submission: Nuanced Identities and Relationships during the Return and Early Persian Period,” in: In the Shadow of Empire: Israel and Judah in the Long Sixth Century BCE (ed. P. Barmash/M. W. Hamilton; ABS 30; Atlanta, 2021), 11–34. Barstad, H. M., The Myth of the Empty Land: A Study in the History and Archaeology of Judah during the “Exilic” Period (SOSup 28; Oslo, 1996). Beaulieu, P.‑A., “Yahwistic Names in Light of Late Babylonian Onomastics,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period: Negotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. O. Lipschits/G. N. Knoppers/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2011), 245–266. Becking, B., “On the Identity of the ‘Foreign’ Women in Ezra 9–10,” in: Exile and Restoration Revisited: Essays on the Babylonian and Persian Periods in Memory of Peter R. Ackroyd (ed. G. N. Knoppers/L. L. Grabbe/D. N. Fulton; LSTS 73; London, 2009), 31–49. –, “Yehudite Identity in Elephantine,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period: Negotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. O. Lipschits/​ G. N. Knoppers/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2011), 403–419. –, Ezra-Nehemiah (HCOT; Leuven, 2018). 68  For which see Knoppers, “Intermarriage, Social Complexity, and Ethnic Diversity in the Genealogy of Judah”; Marsh and Levin, “Mixed Marriages in the Book of Chronicles.” Jonker, “My Wife Must Not Live in King David’s Palace,” argues that the Chronicler’s view on exogamy is closer to that of Neh 13 than to that expressed in Ezra 9–10. 69  Matheny, “Ruth in Recent Research.” 70  Kottsieper, “And They Did Not Care to Speak Yehudit.”



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Berlejung, A., “Was ist eigentlich ‘A schdodisch’? Überlegungen zu Neh 13,23 f. und Sach 9,6,” in: Nächstenliebe und Gottesfurcht: Beiträge aus alttestamentlicher, semitistischer und altorientalistischer Wissenschaft für Hans-Peter Mathys zum 65. Geburtstag (ed. H. Jenni/M. Saur; AOAT 439; Münster, 2016), 13–25. Blenkinsopp, J., Ezra-Nehemiah: A Commentary (OTL; London, 1988). –, “The Social Context of the ‘Outsider Woman’ in Proverbs 1–9,” Bib 72 (1991): 457– 473. Bloch, Y., “Judeans in Sippar and Susa during the First Century of the Babylonian Exile: Assimilation and Perseverance under Neo-Babylonian and Achaemenid Rule,” Journal of Ancient Near Eastern History 1 (2014): 119–172. Demsky, A., “Who came First, Ezra or Nehemiah? The Synchronistic Approach,” HUCA 65 (1994): 1–19. –, “Double Names in the Babylonian Exile and the Identity of Sheshbazzar,” in: These Are the Names: Studies in Jewish Onomastics, Vol. 2 [in Hebrew] (ed. A. Demsky; RamatGan, 1999), 23–40. Dor, Y., “The Rite of Separation of the Foreign Wives in Ezra-Nehemiah,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period: Negotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. O. Lipschits/G. N. Knoppers/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2011), 173–188. Dušek, J., “Archaeology and Texts in the Persian Period: Focus on Sanballat,” in: Congress Volume Helsinki 2010 (ed. M. Nissinen; VTSup 148; Leiden, 2012), 117–132. Edelman, D., “Seeing Double: Tobiah the Ammonite as an Encrypted Character,” RB 113 (2006): 570–584. Eshel, E., “The Onomasticon of Mareshah in the Persian and Hellenistic Periods,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century B. C. E. (ed. O. Lipschitz/G. N. Knoppers/R. Albertz; Winona Lake, 2007), 145–156. Eshel, H./Zissu, B., “Two Notes on the History and Archaeology of Judea in the Persian Period,” in: “I Will Speak the Riddles of Ancient Times”: Archaeological and Historical Studies in Honor of Amihai Mazar on the Occasion of His Sixtieth Birthday [Vol. 2] (ed. A. M. Maeir/P. de Miroschedji; Winona Lake, 2006), 823–831. Eskenazi, T. C., “Out From the Shadows: Biblical Women in the Postexilic Era,” JSOT 54 (1992): 25–43. –/ Judd, E. P., “Marriage to a Stranger in Ezra 9–10,” in: Temple Community in the Persian Period, Vol. 2 of Second Temple Studies (ed. T. C. Eskenazi/K. H. Richards; JSOTSup 175; Sheffield, 1994), 266–285. Faust, A., Judah in the Neo-Babylonian Period: The Archaeology of Desolation (ABS 18; Atlanta, 2012). Fried, L. S., “From Xeno-Philia to -Phobia: Jewish Encounters with the Other,” in: A Time of Change: Judah and its Neighbours in the Persian and Early Hellenistic Periods (ed. Y. Levin; LSTS 65; London, 2007), 179–204. –, Ezra and the Law in History and Tradition (Studies on Personalities of the Old Testament; Columbia, 2014). –, “Who Was Nehemiah ben Hacaliah?,” JHebS 21/6 (2022): 1–14. Grabbe, L. L., “Elephantine and the Torah,” in: In the Shadow of Bezalel: Aramaic, Biblical, and Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Bezalel Porten (ed. A. F. Botta; CHANE 60; Leiden, 2013), 125–135. –, “The Reality of the Return: The Biblical Picture Versus Historical Reconstruction,” in: Exile and Return: The Babylonian Context (ed. J. Stökl/C. Waerzeggers; BAZW 478; Berlin, 2015), 292–307.

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Hacham, N., “The Third Century BCE: New Light on Egyptian Jewish History from the Papyri,” in: Sources and Interpretation in Ancient Judaism: Studies for Tal Ilan at Sixty (ed. M. M. Piotrkowski/G. Herman/S. Dönitz; AJEC 104; Leiden, 2018), 130–142. Hensel, B., “The Chronicler’s Polemics towards the Samarian YHWH-Worshippers: A  Fresh Approach,” in: The Samaritans in Historical, Cultural and Linguistic Perspectives (ed. J. Dušek; SJ 110/SSam 11; Berlin, 2018), 35–47. Hobson, R., “Were Persian-Period ‘Israelites’ Bound by Ethnicity or Religious Affiliation? The Case of the Southern Transjordan,” in: Religion in the Achaemenid Persian Empire: Emerging Judaisms and Trends (ed. D. Edelman/A. Fitzpatrick-McKinley/P. Guillaume; ORA 17; Tübingen, 2016), 36–56. Janzen, D., Witch-Hunts, Purity and Social Boundaries: The Expulsion of the Foreign Women in Ezra 9–10 (LHBOTS 350; Sheffield, 2002). Japhet, S., “The Expulsion of the Foreign Women (Ezra 9–10): The Legal Basis, Precedents, and Consequences for the Definition of Jewish Identity,” in: “Sieben Augen auf einem Stein” (Sach 3,9): Studien zur Literatur des Zweiten Tempels: Festschrift für Ina Willi-Plein zum 65. Geburtstag (ed. F. Hartenstein/M. Pietsch; Neukirchen-Vluyn, 2007), 141–161. Jonker, J. C., “‘My Wife Must Not Live in King David’s Palace’ (2 Chr 8:11): A  Contribution to the Diachronic Study of Intermarriage Traditions in the Hebrew Bible,” JBL 135 (2016): 35–47. Kartveit, M., “Samaritan Self-Consciousness in the First Half of the Second Century B. C. E. in Light of the Inscriptions from Mount Gerizim and Delos,” JSJ 45 (2014): 449–470. Knoppers, G. N., “Intermarriage, Social Complexity, and Ethnic Diversity in the Genealogy of Judah,” JBL 120 (2001): 15–30. Kratz, R. G., “Judean Ambassadors and the Making of Jewish Identity: The case of Hananiah, Ezra, and Nehemiah,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period: Negotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. O. Lipschits/G. N. Knoppers/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2011), 421–444. Kottsieper, I., “‘And They Did Not Care to Speak Yehudit’: On Linguistic Change in Judah during the Late Persian Era,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century B. C. E. (ed. O. Lipschits/G. N. Knoppers/R. Albertz; Winona Lake, 2007), 95–124. Laato, A., Message and Composition of the Book of Isaiah: An Interpretation in the Light of Jewish Reception History (DCLS 46; Berlin, 2022). Lambert, W. G., “A Document from a Community of Exiles in Babylonia,” in: New Seals and Inscriptions: Hebrew, Idumean, and Cuneiform (ed. M. Lubetski; HBM 8; Sheffield, 2007), 201–205. Lemaire, A., “Another Temple to the Israelite God: Aramaic Hoard Documents Life in Fourth Century B. C.,” BAR 30 (2004): 38–44, 60. –, “New Aramaic Ostraca from Idumea and their Historical Interpretation,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Persian Period (ed. O. Lipschits/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2006), 413–456. –, “Judean Identity in Elephantine: Everyday Life according to the Ostraca,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period: Negotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. O. Lipschits/G. N. Knoppers/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2011), 365–373. Levin, Y., “The Southern Frontier of Yehud and the Creation of Idumea,” in: A Time of Change: Judah and its Neighbours in the Persian and Early Hellenistic Periods (ed. Y. Levin; LSTS 65; London, 2007), 239–252.



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–, “Bi-Directional Forced Deportations in the Neo-Assyrian Empire and the Origins of the Samaritans: Colonialism and Hybridity,” Archaeological Review from Cambridge 28.1 (2013): 213–236. –, “The Religion of Idumea and Its Relationship to Early Judaism,” Religions 11 (2020), 487: 1–27. –, “Persian-Period Jerusalem in the Shadow of Destruction,” in: Writing and Re-Writing History by Destruction: Proceedings of the Annual Minerva Center RIAB Conference, Leipzig, 2018 (ed. A. Berlejung/A. M. Maeir/T. M. Oshima; ORA 45; Tübingen, 2022), 122–140. Marsh, I./Levin, Y., “Mixed Marriages in the Book of Chronicles – A Reflection of Social Attitudes in Persian-Period Yehud,” Transeu 50 (2018): 125–139. Matheny, J. M., “Ruth in Recent Research,” CurBR 19 (2020): 8–35. Moffat, D. P., Ezra’s Social Drama: Identity Formation, Marriage and Social Conflict in Ezra 9 and 10 (LHBOTS 579; London, 2013). Naveh, J., “The Aramaic Ostraca from Tel Beer-sheba (Seasons 1971–1976),” TA 6 (1979): 182–198. –, “The Aramaic Ostraca from Tel Arad,” in: Arad Inscriptions (ed. Y. Aharoni in cooperation with J. Naveh/A. F. Rainey; Jerusalem, 1981), 153–167. –, “Published and Unpublished Aramaic Ostraca,” Atiqot (English Series) 17 (1985): 114–121. Oeming, M., “The Spirit of the Book of Nehemiah and the ‘Language of Ashdod’: Nehemiah 13:23–24 as an Anti-Hellenistic Polemic,” in: Jerusalem and the Coastal Plain in the Iron Age and Persian Periods: New Studies on Jerusalem’s Relations with the Southern Coastal Plain of Israel/Palestine (c. 1200–300 BCE) (ed. F. Hagemeyer; ORA 46; Tübingen, 2022), 215–231. Oswald, W., “Foreign Marriages and Citizenship in Persian Period Judah,” JHebS 12 (2021), article 6. Pearce, L. E., “New Evidence for Judeans in Babylonia,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Persian Period (ed. O. Lipschits/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2006), 399–411. –, “‘Judean’: A Special Status in Neo-Babylonian and Achemenid Babylonia?,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period: Negotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. O. Lipschits/G. N. Knoppers/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2011), 267–277. Porten, B., Archives from Elephantine: The Life of an Ancient Jewish Military Colony (Berkeley, 1968). –, “Theophorous Names in Idumean Ostraca,” in: For Uriel; Studies in the History of Israel in Antiquity Presented to Professor Uriel Rappaport (ed. M. Mor et al.; Jerusalem, 2005), 105*–130*. –/ Yardeni, A., “In Preparation of a Corpus of Aramaic Ostraca from the Land of Israel: The House of Yehokal,” in: Shlomo: Studies in Epigraphy, History and Archaeology in Honor of Shlomo Moussaieff (ed. R. Deutch; Tel Aviv, 2003), 207–223. Porter, A., “What Sort of Jews were the Tobiads,” in: The Archaeology of Difference: Gender, Ethnicity, Class and the “Other” in Antiquity: Studies in Honor of Eric M. Meyers (ed. D. R. Edwards/C. T. McCollough; AASOR 60/61; Boston, 2007), 141–150. Rice, J. W., “The Diachronic Composition of the Shema‫־‬Reports in Nehemiah 1–6,” ZAW 131 (2019): 91–104. Ruiz, J.‑P., “‘They Could Not Speak the Language of Judah’: Rereading Nehemiah 13 between Brooklyn and Jerusalem,” in: They Were All Together in One Place? Toward

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Minority Biblical Criticism (ed. R. C. Bailey/T. B. Liew/F. F. Segovia; SemeiaSt 57; Atlanta, 2009), 79–95. Schaper, J., “Torah and Identity in the Persian Period,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period: Negotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. O. Lip­ schits/G. N. Knoppers/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2011), 29–38. Schwartz, D. R., “On Some Papyri and Josephus’ Sources and Chronology for the Persian Period,” JSJ 21 (1990): 175–199. Smith-Christopher, D. L., “The Mixed Marriage Crisis in Ezra 9–10 and Nehemiah 13: A Study of the Sociology of the Post-Exilic Judean Community,” in: Temple Community in the Persian Period, Vol. 2 of Second Temple Studies (ed. T. C. Eskenazi/K. H. Richards; JSOTSup 175; Sheffield, 1994), 242–265. Southwood, K., “The Holy Seed: The Significance of Endogamous Boundaries and Their Transgression in Ezra 9–10,” in Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period: Negotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. O. Lipschits/G. N. Knoppers/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2011), 189–224. –, “‘And They Could Not Understand Jewish Speech’: Language, Ethnicity, and Nehemiah’s Intermarriage Crisis,” JTS, NS 62 (2011): 1–19. –, Ethnicity and the Mixed Marriage Crisis in Ezra 9–10: An Anthropological Approach (OTM; Oxford, 2012). Sparks, K., Ethnicity and Identity in Ancient Israel: Prolegomena to the Study of Ethnic Sentiments and Their Expression in the Hebrew Bible (Winona Lake, 1998). Stern, I., “The Population of Persian-period Idumea According to the Ostraca: A Study of Ethnic Boundaries and Ethnogenesis,” in: A Time of Change: Judah and its Neighbours in the Persian and Early Hellenistic Periods (ed. Y. Levin; LSTS 65; London, 2007), 203–238. Stolper, M. W., Entrepreneurs and Empire: The Murašû Archive, the Murašû Firm, and Persian Rule in Babylonia (PIHANS 54; Leiden, 1985). Tammuz, O., “Will the Real Sanballat Please Stand Up?,” in: Samaritans: Past and Present: Current Studies (ed. M. Mor/F. V. Reiterer; SJ 53/SSam 5; Berlin, 2010), 51–58. Tigay, J. F., Deuteronomy (JPS Torah Commentary; Philadelphia, 1996). Trümper, M., “The Synagogue in Delos Revisited,” in: Synagogues in the Hellenistic and Roman Periods: Archaeological Finds, New Methods, New Theories (ed. L. Doering/​ A. R. Krause; Ioudaioi 11; Göttingen, 2020), 81–123. Washington, H. C., “The Strange Woman (‫נכריה‬/‫ )אשה זרה‬of Proverbs 1–9 and Post-Exilic Judean Society,” in: Temple Community in the Persian Period, Vol. 2 of Second Temple Studies (ed. T. C. Eskenazi/K. H. Richards; JSOTSup 175; Sheffield, 1994), 217–242. Yassine, K. and Teixidor, J., “Ammonite and Aramaic Inscriptions from Tell el-Mazār in Jordan,” BASOR 264 (1986): 45–50. Zadok, R., The Jews in Babylonia during the Chaldean and Achaemenian Periods according to the Babylonian Sources (Studies in the History of the Jewish People and the Land of Israel 3; Haifa, 1979). –, “A Prosopography of Samaria and Edom/Idumea,” UF 30 (1988): 785–822.

Yahwistic Diversity in the Land of Israel The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls1 Charlotte Hempel 1. Introduction This essay will argue that the evidence of the Dead Sea Scrolls offers important contributions to the scholarly debate on the question of Yahwistic diversity in the land of Israel.2 I use the term Israel here as encompassing the shared heritage of both the Samaritan and Jewish communities.3 Research on the Hebrew Bible has emphasized how several dominant scholarly paradigms have obscured the voices of the people of the land who were not displaced.4 First, the biblical account of the destruction of the formidable Northern Kingdom Israel by the Assyrians in 722 BCE amplified the voices of the scribes and their sponsors of the longer-lived Judean kingdom in the final form of the Hebrew Bible.5 Moreover, the contribution of the returnees from the Babylonian exile is presented as the dominant perspective over against those 1 

This chapter is part of a larger research project on Ezra’s Legacy and the Dead Sea Scrolls funded by the UK’ Arts and Humanities Research Council which I gratefully acknowledge here. This essay was presented at the online meeting of the European Association for Biblical Studies in Wuppertal in 2021 and more recently at the Biblical Studies Seminar at the University of Edinburgh. I am grateful for both opportunities and the stimulating discussions. 2  See also Hensel/Nocquet/Adamczewski (ed.), Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: Tracing Perspectives of Group Identity from Judah, Samaria, and the Diaspora in Biblical Traditions. 3  See Hensel, “Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: State of the Field, Desiderata, and Research Perspectives in a Necessary Debate on the Formative Period of Judaism(s),” 1–44, 20–21. 4  See, e. g., Carroll, “The Myth of the Empty Land,” 79–93; Barstad, The Myth of the Empty Land: A  Study in the History and Archaeology of Judah during the “Exilic” Period; Hensel, Juda und Samaria; Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations; Kratz, Historisches und biblisches Israel, 39–47; Rom-Shiloni, Exclusive Inclusivity: Identity Conflicts Between the Exiles and the People who Remained (6th-5th Centuries BCE). For a recent defence of the former consensus see Faust, Judah in the Neo-Babyloninan Period: The Archaeology of Desolation, who allows for a small-scale, rural occupation of the land including predominantly lower strata of society engaging in agriculture. 5  See Finkelstein, The Forgotten Kingdom: The Archaeology and History of Northern Israel; Frevel, Geschichte Israels, 234–277; Pummer, The Samaritans: A Profile; Schmid, “Overcoming the Sub-Deuteronomism and Sub-Chronicism of Historiography in Biblical Studies: The Case of the Samaritans,” 17–29.

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Judeans who never left the land in texts from the Neo-Babylonian, Persian, and Hellenistic periods onwards such as Ezra-Nehemiah. As a result, the voices of those who remained in the land in the wake of the Babylonian destruction and their descendants are much more difficult to access in the Hebrew Bible as it has come down to us.6 In this context, the contribution of the finds from Qumran was for a long time associated primarily with the literary endeavours of a sect who had withdrawn from society at large. While the appeal of such a view continues to be attractive to wider audiences, current research suggests that the significance of the finds from Qumran is much more far reaching. Moreover, striking synergies can be drawn between recent research on the finds from Qumran and biblical scholarship, where a number of paradigms are being revisited.7 Thus, the prominent dividing line between north and south, periphery and centre, that is challenged in current biblical studies can draw significant support also from research on the Dead Sea Scrolls from Qumran. Here I have in mind the growing body of scholarship on the Northern Kingdom,8 including the reassessment of the literary and archaeological footprint of the Samaritans in the Persian and Early Hellenistic periods.9 In a parallel development the significance of the literary and archaeological footprint of the movement associated with the finds from Qumran has also expanded exponentially in light of recent scholarship. In what follows I will, therefore, build on the growing body of research that has highlighted continuity and social contact rather than conflict and alienation between Judeans and Samaritans10 by drawing attention to comparable developments in Qumran Studies. In both cases the drivers for these scholarly re-assessments have been a wealth of archaeological and literary sources that now pose a challenge to once dominant scholarly narratives. In pursuing this course, I will build on Benedikt Hensel’s emphasis on continuity between Judeans and Samaritans.11 It is now established that the site of Qumran also offers key primary data that 6  See Kim, “The Myth of the Empty Exile’: A Comparative Exploration into Ancient Biblical Exile and Modern Korean Exile,” 45–64; Middlemas, The Troubles of Templeless Judah; and Southwood, Ethnicity and the Mixed Marriage Crisis in Ezra 9–10: An Anthropological Approach. 7  For current overviews Brooke/Hempel (ed.), T&T Clark Companion to the Dead Sea Scrolls; Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls; Hempel, “The Dead Sea Scrolls: Challenging the Particularist Paradigm,” 91–104; Kratz, Qumran: Die Schriftrollen vom Toten Meer und die Entstehung des biblischen Judentums; Stökl Ben Ezra, Qumran: Die Texte vom Toten Meer und das antike Judentum; Crawford, Scribes and Scrolls at Qumran; and Xeravits/Porzig, Einführung in die Qumranliteratur. 8  Cf. Finkelstein, Forgotten Kingdom. 9  See Hensel, “Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible.” 10  Cf. Pummer, The Samaritans; Kartveit/Knoppers, The Bible, Qumran, and the Samaritans; and Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans. 11  Hensel, “On the Relationship of Juda and Samaria in Post-Exilic Times: A Farewell to the Conflict Paradigm,” 19–42.



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testify to continuity between Judean and Samaritan scribes in a broadly southern location.12 In what follows I will draw out a number of areas of cross-sectional scribal, halakhic, and cultic continuity between Judeans, Samaritans, and the wider movement reflected in the remains from Qumran. It is important to note that the term Qumran refers to the site and wider area where the Qumran scrolls were discovered. In a number of cases caves with manuscript deposits were accessible only via the settlement.13 However, it is now clear that the ultimate provenance of many compositions and their impact on our knowledge of Second Temple Judaism go much beyond Qumran.14 I will now turn to consider three areas of continuity: scribal, halakhic and cultic.

2.  Scribal Continuity An intriguing characteristic of the manuscripts of the emerging Hebrew Bible from Qumran as well as those texts that outline the movement’s own rules and regulations is the preservation of a plurality of text forms side by side each other.15 Based on these pluriform textual traditions I have some time ago referred to the evidence of the Rule Texts, especially the Damascus Document and the Rules of the Community, as “Rewritten Rule Texts” in analogy with the label “Rewritten Scripture.”16 As far as the biblical manuscripts are concerned, the text of the book of Jeremiah is noteworthy since the Qumran caves revealed two manuscripts that preserve a Hebrew text reminiscent of the Vorlage of the Septuagint (4QJerb,d) alongside a second group of manuscripts that attest a text 12  See, e. g., Hensel, Juda und Samaria, 173–176; Kratz, Historisches und biblisches Israel, 237–238; Kratz, Qumran, 76–80; Knoppers, Jews and Samaritans, 77–94; and Longacre, A Contextualised Approach to the Hebrew Dead Sea Scrolls Containing Exodus. 13  See Fidanzio, The Caves of Qumran: Proceedings of the International Conference, Lugano 2014. 14  See Hempel, “Qumran Communities: Beyond the Fringes of Second Temple Society,” 43–53; and Hempel, “Dead Sea Scrolls: Challenging the Particularist Paradigm.” See also Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls. 15  See, e. g., Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible; Ulrich, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Origins of the Bible; Ulrich, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Developmental Composition of the Bible; Crawford, Scribes and Scrolls at Qumran; as well as James C. VanderKam, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Bible. On the comparable pluriformity of the Rule texts see Hempel, Qumran Rule Texts in Context: Collected Studies, 271–299; Hempel, The Community Rules from Qumran: A Commentary; Metso, The Textual Development of the Qumran Community Rule; and Schofield, From Qumran to the Yaḥad: A New Paradigm of Textual Development for the Community Rule. 16  See Hempel, “Shared Traditions: Points of Contact Between S and D,” 115–131; and reprinted as Hempel, Qumran Rule Texts in Context, 137–150; Hempel, “Reflections on Literacy, Textuality, and Community in the Qumran Dead Sea Scrolls,” 69–82; see further, Kratz, “Biblical Scholarship and Qumran Studies,” 204–215; and Zahn, Genres of Rewriting in Second Temple Judaism: Scribal Composition and Transmission, 98–136.

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resembling proto-MT (2QJer and 4QJera,c).17 Similarly, the finds from Qumran also revealed a pre-Samaritan witness to the text of Exodus (4QpaleoExodm) that shares several features associated with the Samaritan Pentateuch though not the typically ‘sectarian’ references to the Samaritan Holy Mountain Gerizim.18 Magnar Kartveit captures the situation by referring to “the Pentateuch that the Samaritans chose” rather than a Samaritan Pentateuch that was transmitted exclusively in Samaritan scribal circles.19 In other words, the evidence from Qumran on what were to become biblical manuscripts gives us access to scribal traditions which would only later part company. More particularly, the evidence from Qumran demonstrates that the Pentateuch which the Samaritans chose was also chosen, among other text forms, by the movement associated with Qumran. I would caution that it is a moot point whether we are dealing with a purposeful choice from an array of available texts rather than simply having access to particular texts in the learned circles where they were available.20 It is clear, therefore, that the proto-Septuagint, the pre-Samaritan Pentateuch, and the manuscripts from Qumran attest scribal continuity both in terms of shared particulars as well as belonging, more broadly, to scribal circles that shared the same kinds of texts of the emerging Hebrew Bible.21

3.  Halakhic Continuity Just as the discovery of ancient manuscripts of the text of the Hebrew Bible had a formative impact on the scholarly field of textual criticism, the emergence of a sizeable corpus of ancient Jewish legal texts also had a critical impact on our understanding of the history of Jewish law in the period before the codification of the Mishnah in around 200 CE.22 In particular, the publication of the Temple Scroll by Yigael Yadin reinforced the importance of the finds from Qumran for 17  See, e. g., Cf. Ulrich, Dead Sea Scrolls and Developmental Composition, 229–249; and Tov, The Greek and Hebrew Bible: Collected Essays on the Septuagint, 363–384. See also Lange, Handbuch der Textfunde vom Toten Meer. Band 1: Die Handschriften biblischer Bücher von Qumran und den anderen Fundorten, 297–324; Lange, “7.2.1 Ancient Manuscript Evidence,”; Tov, Textual Criticism, 319–327; Langlois, “The Book of Jeremiah’s Redaction History in Light of its Oldest Manuscripts,” 9–31; and Tigchelaar, “Jeremiah’s Scriptures in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Growth of a Tradition,” 289–306. 18 Lange, Handbuch, 64–66; Lange, “2.2.1 Ancient, Late Ancient, and Early Medieval Manuscript Evidence,” and Longacre, “A Contextualised Approach.” 19  See Kartveit, The Origin of the Samaritans, 259–321. 20  See Johnson, Readers and Reading Culture in the High Roman Empire: A Study of Elite Communities. 21 See Hempel, “The Emerging Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls: A  Common Milieu,” 285–299. 22  See the seminal studies by Baumgarten, Studies in Qumran Law; and Schiffman, The Halakhah at Qumran.



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our understanding of Jewish law in the Second Temple period.23 The publication of the Temple Scroll was followed by the edition of the Qumran Cave 4 manuscripts of the Damascus Document by Joseph Baumgarten that supplemented the legal component of the Damascus Document known for some time from the Cairo Genizah in CD 9–16.24 More recently, the publication of the text labelled 4QMMT (“Some of the Precepts of the Law”) can be seen as another milestone in our growing evidence base for Jewish legal debate from Qumran.25 Reference should also be made to a number of fragmentary but equally significant halakhic compositions including 4QOrdinances and 4QHarvesting.26 The discovery of a substantial body of written law laying out detailed interpretations and legal debates from the Late Second Temple period is itself remarkable. Such a wealth of Jewish legal texts predates the emergence of the rabbinic notion of a chain of oral tradition – known as the oral law – that supplemented the written law of the Pentateuch. In rabbinic thought both the written Torah and the oral law were attributed to the revelation at Mount Sinai.27 While there are disagreements between halakhic positions in the Mishnah and the Dead Sea Scrolls, we also observe areas of continuity concerning the halakhic questions addressed as well as technical vocabulary used to refer to them.28 The history of interpretation of 4QMMT offers an excellent example of a receding conflict paradigm. This composition was initially identified as part of the correspondence between two cryptically named figures attested in a small number of texts from Qumran. One, the Teacher of Righteousness, was assumed to have composed this ‘halakhic letter’ intended for his arch-rival the Wicked Priest.29 The disagreement laid out in the ‘letter’, it was argued, in turn led to 23  See Yadin, The Temple Scroll; Schiffman/Gross, The Temple Scroll: 11Q19, 11Q20, 11Q21, 4Q524, 5Q21 with 4Q365a; Schiffman, The Courtyards of the House of the Lord: Studies on the Temple Scroll; and Crawford, The Temple Scroll and Related Texts. 24  See Baumgarten, Qumran Cave 4.13: The Damascus Document (4Q266–273); Goldman, “Damascus Document (D),” 306–309; Hempel, The Laws of the Damascus Document: Sources, Traditions and Redaction; Hempel, “Damascus Document,” 510–512; Hempel, The Damascus Texts; and Wassén, Women in the Damascus Document. 25  See Qimron/Strugnell, Qumran Cave 4.5: Miqṣat Maʿaśe ha-Torah; and Kratz, Interpreting and Living God’s Law at Qumran: Miqṣat Maʿaśe ha-Torah. Some of the Works of the Torah (4QMMT). 26  See Baumgarten, Qumran Cave 4.25: Halakhic Texts. 27  See, e. g., Holtz, Back to the Sources: Reading the Classic Jewish Texts, 130–131; Neusner, Four Stages of Rabbinic Judaism; and Schiffman, From Text to Tradition: A History of Second Temple and Rabbinic Judaism, esp. 179–181; and the comprehensive analysis in Jaffe, Torah in the Mouth: Writing and Oral Tradition in Palestinian Judaism, 200 BCE – 400 CE. 28  See, e. g., the admissions process in the Community Rule in 1QS 6:13–23 with parallels in 4Q256 and, less certain, in 4Q261. For details and analysis see Hempel, Community Rules, 141–189, esp. 181–189; see further Lieberman, “The Discipline in the So-Called Dead Sea Manual of Discipline,” 199–206; and Fraade, Legal Fictions: Studies of Law and Narrative in the Discursive Worlds of Ancient Jewish Sectarians and Sages, esp. 125–143. 29  Qimron/Strugnell, “An Unpublished Halakhic Letter from Qumran,” 400–407. For a

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a rift that resulted in the Teacher and his followers moving to Qumran.30 It is now widely acknowledged that such an interpretation goes considerably further than the evidence of MMT permits and has been challenged or refined in recent scholarship.31 Despite the suggestion that MMT led to a rift between those who moved to Qumran and their opponents, the discourse’s conciliatory tone was acknowledged even by those who advocated for such a rift.32 As far as the halakhic debate preserved in 4QMMT is concerned, Lawrence Schiffman identified the position of the authors of 4QMMT as Sadducean and in dispute with the Pharisees.33 Menahem Kister, on the other hand, characterizes the halakhic position behind MMT as “non-Pharisaic.”34 Yaakov Sussman introduced a sense of continuity by suggesting that the scribes behind 4QMMT drew on shared legal traditions also underlying the rabbinic accounts on Sadducees and Pharisees.35 This is another case where a conflict paradigm, this time concerning Jewish legal debate, has been chastened by allowing for strands of continuity. Most recently, Vered Noam has offered a fresh examination of the relationship of 4QMMT to rabbinic halakhah where she highlights “emblematic kinds of connections” that challenge prevailing narratives of opposition between both corpora and the social circles responsible for their transmission.36 Elsewhere Noam helpfully refers to halakhah from Qumran and rabbinic halakhah as two “halakhic cultures” that grew out of “an ancient stratum of shared inherited marecent assessment of 4QMMT against the context of epistolary literature from the Greek and Roman periods see Doering, “4QMMT and/as Hellenistic Literature,” 179–198. 30  For recent nuanced research on the Teacher of Righteousness see, e. g., Brooke, “The ‘Apocalyptic’ Community, the Matrix of the Teacher and Rewriting Scripture,” 37–53; García Martínez, “Beyond the Sectarian Divide: The ‘Voice of the Teacher’ as an Authority-Conferring Strategy in Some Qumran Texts,” 227–244; Grossman, “Roland Barthes and the Teacher of Righteousness: The Death of the Author of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 709–722; Harkins, “Who is the Teacher of the Teacher Hymns? Re-Examining the Teacher Hymns Hypothesis Fifty Years Later,” 449–467; Jokiranta, “Qumran – The Prototypical Teacher in the Qumran Pesharim: A  Social-Identity Approach,” 254–263; Knibb, “Teacher of Righteousness,” 2:918–921; and Stuckenbruck, “The Legacy of the Teacher of Righteousness in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 23–49; and Stuckenbruck, “The Teacher of Righteousness Remembered: From Fragmentary Sources to Collective Memory in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 75–94. 31  See, e. g., Strugnell, “MMT: Second Thoughts on a Forthcoming Edition,” 57–73; Weissenberg, 4QMMT: Reevaluating the Text, the Function, and the Meaning of the Epilogue, 17–25; and Hempel, “4QMMT and Comfortable Theories,” 275–292. See also Collins, “4QMMT and History,” 161–178; as well as Hempel, “4QMMT in the Context of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Beyond,” 117–136; and Noam, “From 4QMMT to Rabbinic Halakhah,” 137–160. 32  See, e. g., Qimron/Strugnell, Qumran Cave 4.5, 114. 33  Schiffman “The Place of 4QMMT in the Corpus of Qumran Manuscripts,” 81–98, here 85; idem, Courtyards of the House of the Lord, 123–147, 299, 425–439. 34  See Kister, “Studies in 4QMiqṣat Maʿaśeh ha-Torah and Related Texts: Law, Theology, Language and Calendar,” 317–371 [Hebrew]. 35 Cf. Sussman, “Appendix 1: The History of the Halakha and the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 179–206. 36  See Noam, “From 4QMMT to Rabbinic Halakhah,” 158.



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terial.”37 I have elsewhere drawn on Samuel Sandmel’s notion of “Comfortable Theories” to challenge some seminal assessments of 4QMMT that integrated its contents into an existing conflict paradigm between the Teacher of Righteousness and the Wicked Priest.38 Against the context of recent scholarship on elements of continuity between the Dead Sea Scrolls and rabbinic literature it is worth highlighting that the polyphonic halakhic discourse preserved in rabbinic literature frequently presents several opinions, often coming to on an open-ended conclusion. Steven Fraade describes this phenomenon as follows, One of the most celebrated aspects of rabbinic literature is its adducing of multiple interpretations of scriptural verses and its valorizing of multiple legal opinions as expressed in debate among the rabbinic sages.39

It is a moot point whether these debates reflect disagreement or, rather, cumulative agreement on broader questions as Jacob Neusner has argued in a comprehensive study.40 On Maxine Grossman’s and Steven Fraade’s reading of 4QMMT this document itself presents a range of material for the purposes of training community members.41 Finally, I have argued elsewhere that we find multiple legal voices also within the Dead Sea Scrolls. Thus, remarkably, some of the views of the opponents maligned in MMT are advocated in 4QOrdinancesc (4Q514 1) where we find a reference to attaining an initial level of purity after immersing and before sunset on the last day of the purification period, known in rabbinic literature as ṭevul yom.42 A  number of passages in the Scrolls, by contrast, are very clear that it is required to wait for sunset before purity is restored.43 Continuity between legal debates preserved in the Dead Sea Scrolls and halakhic discourse in the Mishnah manifests itself also in the construction of a narrative44 of robust disagreement on matters of legal interpretation. In fact, the halakhic debates depicted in 4QMMT might offer us precursors to halakhic debate in the Mishnah prior to the attribution to named rabbinic authorities.45 37  Noam, “Halakhah,” 395–404, here 401. See further Shemesh, Halakhah in the Making: The Development of Jewish Law from Qumran to the Rabbis; and Shemesh, “Thou Shalt not Rabbinize the Qumran Sectarian: On the Inflexibility of the Halakah in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 169–178. 38  See Hempel, “4QMMT in the Context of the Dead Sea Scrolls”; and Hempel, “4QMMT and Comfortable Theories.” 39  Fraade, “Rabbinic Polysemy and Pluralism Revisited: Between Praxis and Thematization,” 1–40, 1. 40 Neusner, Contours of Coherence in Rabbinic Judaism, where he argues “the Halakhic dispute evokes difference of opinion to delineate the range of concurrence” (307). 41  See Grossman, “Reading 4QMMT: Genre and History,” 3–21; and Fraade, “To Whom It May Concern: 4QMMT and Its Addressee(s),” 507–526. 42  Cf. Hempel, “4QMMT in the Context of the Dead Sea Scrolls.” 43  See, by contrast, 4QMMT (4Q396 1–2 iii 11  – iv 1a) and the Damascus Document (4Q266 [4QDa] 6 ii 1–4). 44  On the construction of legal narratives both in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in Rabbinic Literature see Fraade, Legal Fictions. 45  See Hempel, “4QMMT and Comfortable Theories.” For a critique of approaching at-

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In terms of lived halakhic practice the presence of ritual immersion pools both at the site of Qumran and at a number of sites in Judea and Galilee in the two centuries that mark the turn of the era suggests another strand of continuity.46 Whatever the shared impetus for the creation of a physical infrastructure for this type of observance may have been, it was broadly contemporary with the move to Qumran and the renovations at the site in the first century BCE. In fact, both ritual immersion pools and individual dining dishes attested at Qumran are not particular to this site, and both have been attested at the Hasmonean Palaces in Jericho.47 Note also the reference, albeit in a prohibition to a group referred to as the people of injustice, of “entering the waters to touch the purity of holiness” in 1QS 5:13 and a second reference to immersion which I was able to identify in 4Q256 9 10–11 with a parallel in 4Q258 1 9.48 Intriguingly, individual dining dishes are also attested around 170 km away in the affluent Jewish village of Gamla in Gaulanitis at around the same time as the communal occupation of Qumran as well as more locally at En El-Ghuweir.49 The residents of Gamla were also early adopters of immersion pools alongside the occupants of the site of Qumran.50 The identification of the earliest purity installations in an elite Hasmonean setting is particularly intriguing. A compelling explanation for these developments is that it was a response to Greek bathing practices that led both Hasmonean elites and members of the movement who settled at Qumran to offer their own bathing practice.51 Albert Baumgarten has made a strong case to contextualise the emergence of ritual immersion pools in the Hasmonean palaces of Jericho as indications of “intra-elite competition” on the part of Hastributions to named figures in rabbinic literature with the much later idea of individual authorship see Stern, “Attribution and Authorship in the Babylonian Talmud,” 28–5; see further Lapin, Early Rabbinic Civil Law and the Social History of Roman Galilee. 46  See Magness, The Archaeology of Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls, 168–195; Galor, “Plastered Pools: A New Perspective,” 291–320; Adler, “The Hellenistic Origins of Jewish Ritual Immersion,” 1–21; Reich, “The Hot Bath-House (balneum), the Miqweh and the Jewish Community in the Second Temple Period,” 102–107; Zissu/Amit, “Common Judaism, Common Purity, and the Second Temple Period Judean Miqwaʾot (Ritual Immersion Baths),” 47–62. See also Miller, At the Intersection of Texts and Material Finds: Stepped Pools, Stone Vessels, and Ritual Purity. 47  For bibliography on ritual immersion pools see the note above. Concerning the pottery cf. Magness, Archaeology of Qumran, 133–167; and Bar-Nathan, Hasmonean and Herodian Palaces at Jericho: Final Reports of the 1973–1987 Excavations, vol. 3, The Pottery, 79–90. 48  See Hempel, Community Rules, 141–154. 49  See Berlin, “Jewish Life Before the Revolt: The Archaeological Evidence,” 417–470. Berlin identifies archaeological evidence at several sites that reflects an embracing of a modest material culture which she calls “household Judaism” indicative of “an ethic of austerity” (445–446). See further Bar-Adon, “Another Settlement of the Judean Desert Sect at ʿEn el-Ghuweir on the Shores of the Dead Sea,” 1–25; and Schofield, From Qumran to the Yaḥad: A New Paradigm of Textual Development for the Community Rule, 219–271. 50  See Berlin, “Jewish Life Before the Revolt,” 452. 51  Adler, “The Hellenistic Origins.”



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monean rulers in the Hellenistic period.52 Moreover, Cynthia Baker’s reference to the phenomenon of “‘mimicking’ dominant culture practices” in rabbinic literature53 captures the evidence from Qumran as well. Finally, Karen Wenell’s point that ancient Jews needed to be able “to afford” purity is well taken.54 Thus, whatever the precise impetus for the establishment of a ritual purity infrastructure may have been in different contexts, those who led the movement to Qumran responded to Greek bathing practices.

4.  Cultic Continuity Another issue perceived as a cause of conflict between the movement associated with the Dead Sea Scrolls and the priestly authorities in Jerusalem was the temple.55 The idea that at least parts of this larger movement had broken ties with the temple is based to a large extent on a number of passages in the Dead Sea Scrolls that have been read as a rejection of the temple cult in Jerusalem altogether.56 On the other hand, scholars have acknowledged that there are also texts that presuppose engagement with the Jerusalem temple cult.57 We also have evidence of the hope for a splendid future temple as described, for instance, in the Temple Scroll. More recently, a compelling case has been made by Martin Goodman that cult-critical statements attested in the Dead Sea Scrolls continue a discourse that is found already in the biblical prophetic tradition.58 Goodman also notes that inner-Jewish debates on how the Jerusalem temple should operate are widely attested and highlights the risk of the prevailing experience of living without a temple in later Christian and rabbinic experience influencing interpretations of the pre-70 CE material from Qumran.59 A similarly nuanced analysis has been endorsed by William Horbury who notes, “the Qumran texts seem to 52 Baumgarten, “Graeco-Roman Voluntary Organizations and Ancient Jewish Sects,” 93–111, esp. 106–111. 53  Baker, “When Jews were Women,” 114–134. 54 Wenell, Jesus and the Land: Sacred and Social Space in Second Temple Judaism, 78. 55  See, e. g., Regev, “Abominated Temple and a Holy Community: The Formation of the Notions of Purity and Impurity in Qumran,” 243–278; Schiffman, “Community Without Temple: The Qumran Community’s Withdrawal from the Jerusalem Temple,” 267–284 who suggests it was debates about ritual and sacrificial practice that led to the community’s separation from the Temple. Further, Kratz, Historisches und biblisches Israel, 211. 56  See, e. g., 1QS 8:1–16 and 1QS 9:3–5, cf. Hempel, Community Rules, 217–232 and further bibliography there. 57  See, e. g., CD 11:17–18 which deals with the sabbath offering and the extensive discussion on the exclusion of certain categories of priests from the temple service and from eating sacrificial food in the Cave 4 manuscripts of the Damascus Document (4Q266 5 ii 4–7). For details and analysis see Hempel, Laws of the Damascus Document, 38–43. 58 See, e. g., Isa 1:1–7; Amos 5:21–24 and Micah 6:6–8; and Martin Goodman, “The Qumran Sectarians and the Temple in Jerusalem,” 263–273. For a close analysis of the biblical evidence see also Kaiser, “Kult und Kultkritik im Alten Testament,” 401–426. 59  Goodman, “The Qumran Sectarians and the Temple.”

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attest full conviction of the election of Zion, and to accept temple and priesthood as divinely appointed, simply criticizing the priests who in fact officiate.”60 Moreover, as Daniel Falk has proposed, offerings of the lips developed as part of the temple liturgy rather than representing a substitute for it.61 Finally, Carol New­ som and Cecilia Wassén have rightly emphasized the highly figurative language employed when likening – rather than identifying – the community to a temple and a fortified city in 1QS 8:4–10, just as the reference to the community as “an eternal plant”62 is figurative.63 Newsom outlines the sophisticated use of metaphorical language here as follows, Metaphorical assertion, as is well known, has an irreducibly paradoxical quality, what Ricoeur frequently calls the “is and is not” quality of metaphor. The council of the community manifestly is not the temple. Metaphor does not permit the collapsing of the two things compared. Paradoxically, however, the only adequate language for the truth of what the community is, is the language of temple. Metaphorical assertion is also selective in the way it transfers categories and relations from one semantic field to a new and unstructured domain. As the particular terms make clear, it is the mediatorial functions of the temple that are appropriated. Atonement, acceptability, and the offer of soothing odors are all part of the traditional vocabulary for restoring ruptured relations between the divine and the human (see, e. g., Gen 9:20–21; Exod 28:38; Lev 1:3–9; 16:30–33).64

Finally, the variegated picture of the evidence on the temple in the Dead Sea Scrolls has been analysed with nuance by George Brooke in a study entitled, “The Ten Temples in the Dead Sea Scrolls.”65 What is emerging is that the full publication of the Dead Sea Scrolls has revealed the temple and its cult as a theme of great interest. It is also clear that the movement’s literary endeavours engage with issues that suggest they have a stake in how the temple should be run and employ cultic language figuratively to present the emergence of a new community as a turning point in the relationship between God and his people. This pivotal role of the cult as part of the movement’s business is particularly clear in the eirenic debates in 4QMMT discussed above.66 60  See

Horbury, Messianism among Jews and Christians: Biblical and Historical Studies, 260–288, 265. 61 Falk, Daily, Sabbath and Festival Prayers in the Dead Sea Scrolls, 218. For the earlier view see, for instance, Klinzing, Die Umdeutung des Kultus in der Qumrangemeinde und im Neuen Testament. 62  Cf. Isa 60:21; 61:3; CD 1:7 and 1 Enoch 93:9–10 as well as Tiller, “The ‘Eternal Planting’ in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 312–335. 63 Newsom, The Self as Symbolic Space: Constructing Identity and Community at Qumran; and Wassén, “Do You Have to Be Pure in a Metaphorical Temple? Sanctuary Metaphors and Construction of Sacred Space in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Paul’s Letters,” 55–86. 64 Newsom, Self as Symbolic Space, 157. 65  Brooke, “The Ten Temples in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 417–434. 66  For a recent analysis suggesting the animal bone deposits discovered at Qumran suggest animal sacrifice was practiced at the site, see Magness, “Were Sacrifices Offered at Qumran?,” 5–34.

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5. Conclusion Let me end with a two-fold conclusion that emerges from the evidence outlined above. On the one hand, I identified a wide range of indicators for connectivity and continuity between the movement behind the Dead Sea Scrolls and other scribal and social elites in the Second Temple period. The evidence from Qumran thus firmly deserves to be considered more fully alongside the growing body of research that has identified rich strands of continuity between Judeans and Samaritans. While the evidence of scribal continuity – especially regarding the pre-Samaritan manuscripts of the Pentateuch  – are widely acknowledged, the full publication of the Dead Sea Scrolls alongside the emergence of shared archaeological patters from the Late Second Temple Period Levant offer a wealth of fresh connections in the area of halakha and halakhic practice, including a role for the Temple in the movement’s literature and practice. We also stressed that on the most recent assessment of the archaeological evidence, the movement associated from the first century BCE with Khirbet Qumran originated elsewhere. There is no doubt, therefore, that the evidence from Qumran is part of something chronologically and geographically bigger than Qumran. Earlier scholarship on the archaeological evidence and the texts found much at Qumran that was distinctive and in some cases indicative of a conflict paradigm. It is now clear that the texts and the non-literary archaeological remains form part of a larger network of related finds. What remains distinctive at the site of Qumran and its environs is the co-location of literary evidence on ritual purity alongside miqvaʾot and a thousand individual dining dishes. We can helpfully draw on Stuart Miller’s language of an “intersection of texts and material finds” in this context as well.67 The site of Qumran attests evidence for a much broader scribal movement, and those members of the movement who settled at Qumran in the first half of the first century BCE created a material purity infrastructure to sit alongside their literary endeavours.

Bibliography Adler, Y., “The Hellenistic Origins of Jewish Ritual Immersion,” JJS 69 (2018): 1–21. Baker, C., “When Jews were Women,” HR 45 (2005): 114–134. Bar-Adon, P., “Another Settlement of the Judean Desert Sect at ʿEn el-Ghuweir on the Shores of the Dead Sea,” BASOR 227 (1977): 1–25. Bar-Nathan, R., The Pottery, Vol. 3 of Hasmonean and Herodian Palaces at Jericho: Final Reports of the 1973–1987 Excavations (Jerusalem, 2002). Barstad, H., The Myth of the Empty Land: A Study in the History and Archaeology of Judah during the “Exilic” Period (SOSup 28; Oslo, 1996). 67 Miller,

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Baumgarten, A. I., “Graeco-Roman Voluntary Organizations and Ancient Jewish Sects,” in: Jews in a Graeco-Roman World (ed. M. Goodman; Oxford, 1999), 93–111. Baumgarten, J. M., Qumran Cave 4.13: The Damascus Document (4Q266–273) (DJD 18; Oxford, 1996). –, Qumran Cave 4.25: Halakhic Texts (DJD 35; Oxford, 1999). –, Studies in Qumran Law (Leiden, 1977). Berlin, A. M., “Jewish Life Before the Revolt: The Archaeological Evidence,” JSJ 36 (2005): 417–470. Brooke, G. J., “The ‘Apocalyptic’ Community, the Matrix of the Teacher and Rewriting Scripture,” in: Authoritative Scriptures in Ancient Judaism (ed. M. Popović; JSJSup 141; Leiden, 2010), 37–53. –, “The Ten Temples in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in: Temple and Worship in Biblical Israel (ed. J. Day; LHBOTS 422; London, 2005), 417–434. –/ Hempel, C. (ed.), T&T Clark Companion to the Dead Sea Scrolls (London, 2019). Carroll, R. P., “The Myth of the Empty Land,” Semeia 59 (1992): 79–93. Collins, J. J., “4QMMT and History,” in: Interpreting and Living God’s Law at Qumran: Miqṣat Maʿaśe ha-Torah. Some of the Works of the Torah (4QMMT) (ed. R. G. Kratz; SAPERE 37; Tübingen, 2020), 161–178. –, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids, 2010). Crawford, S. W., Scribes and Scrolls at Qumran (Grand Rapids, 2019). –, The Temple Scroll and Related Texts (Sheffield, 2000). Doering, L., “4QMMT and/as Hellenistic Literature,” in: Interpreting and Living God’s Law at Qumran: Miqṣat Maʿaśe ha-Torah. Some of the Works of the Torah (4QMMT) (ed. R. G. Kratz; SAPERE 37; Tübingen, 2020), 179–198. Falk, D., Daily, Sabbath and Festival Prayers in the Dead Sea Scrolls (STDJ 27; Leiden, 1998). Faust, A., Judah in the Neo-Babylonian Period: The Archaeology of Desolation (ABS 18; Atlanta, 2012). Fidanzio, M. (ed.), The Caves of Qumran: Proceedings of the International Conference, Lugano 2014 (STDJ 118; Leiden, 2017). Finkelstein, I., The Forgotten Kingdom: The Archaeology and History of Northern Israel (Atlanta, 2013). Fraade, S., “To Whom It May Concern: 4QMMT and Its Addressee(s),” RevQ 19 (2000): 507–526. –, “Rabbinic Polysemy and Pluralism Revisited: Between Praxis and Thematization,” AJSR 31.1 (2007): 1–40. –, Legal Fictions: Studies of Law and Narrative in the Discursive Worlds of Ancient Jewish Sectarians and Sages (JSJSup 147; Leiden, 2011). Frevel, C., Geschichte Israels, 2nd ed. (KStTh 2; Stuttgart, 2018). Galor, K., “Plastered Pools: A New Perspective,” in: Études d’anthropologie, de physique et de chimie, Vol. 2 of Khirbet Qumrân et ʿAïn Feshkha (ed. J.‑B. Humbert/J. Gunneweg; NTOA.SA 3; Fribourg, 2003) 291–320. García Martínez, F., “Beyond the Sectarian Divide: The ‘Voice of the Teacher’ as an Authority-Conferring Strategy in Some Qumran Texts,” in: The Dead Sea Scrolls: Transmission of Traditions and Production of Texts (ed. S. Metso/H. Najman/E. Schuller; STDJ 92; Leiden, 2010), 227–244.



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Goldman, L., “Damascus Document (D),” in: T&T Clark Companion to the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. G. J. Brooke/C. Hempel; London, 2019), 306–309. Goodman, M., “The Qumran Sectarians and the Temple in Jerusalem,” in: The Dead Sea Scrolls: Texts and Context (ed. C. Hempel; STDJ 90; Leiden: Brill, 2010), 263–273. Grossman, M., “Reading 4QMMT: Genre and History,” RevQ 20 (2001): 3–21. –, “Roland Barthes and the Teacher of Righteousness: The Death of the Author of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in: The Oxford Handbook of the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. T. Lim/J. J. Collins; Oxford, 2010), 709–722. Harkins, A. K., “Who is the Teacher of the Teacher Hymns? Re-Examining the Teacher Hymns Hypothesis Fifty Years Later,” in: A Teacher for All Generations: Essays in Honor of James C. VanderKam (ed. E. Mason et al.; JSJSup 153; Leiden, 2012), 449–467. Hempel, C., The Community Rules from Qumran: A Commentary (TSAJ 183; Tübingen, 2020). –, “4QMMT and Comfortable Theories,” in: The Dead Sea Scrolls: Texts and Context (ed. C. Hempel; STDJ 90; Leiden, 2010), 275–292. –, “4QMMT in the Context of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Beyond” in: Interpreting and Living God’s Law at Qumran: Miqṣat Maʿaśe ha-Torah. Some of the Works of the Torah (4QMMT) (ed. R. G. Kratz; SAPERE 37; Tübingen, 2020), 117–136. –, “Damascus Document,” in: Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism (ed. J. Collins/​ D. Harlow; Grand Rapids, 2010), 510–512. –, “Qumran Communities: Beyond the Fringes of Second Temple Society,” in: The Scrolls and the Scriptures: Qumran Fifty Years After (ed. S. Porter/C. Evans; JSPSup 26; Sheffield, 2003), 43–53. –, “Reflections on Literacy, Textuality, and Community in the Qumran Dead Sea Scrolls,” in: Is There a Text in this Cave? Studies in the Textuality of the Dead Sea Scrolls in Honour of George J. Brooke (ed. A. Feldman/M. Cioată/C. Hempel; STDJ 119; Leiden, 2017), 69–82. –, “Shared Traditions: Points of Contact Between S and D,” in: The Dead Sea Scrolls: Transmission of Traditions and Production of Texts (ed. S. Metso/H. Najman/E. Schuller; STDJ 92; Leiden, 2010), 115–131. –, “The Dead Sea Scrolls: Challenging the Particularist Paradigm,” in: Torah, Temple, Land: Constructions of Judaism in Antiquity (ed. M. Witte/J. Schröter/V. M. Lepper; TSAJ 184; Tübingen, 2021), 91–104. –, “The Emerging Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls: A Common Milieu,” in: Qumran Rule Texts in Context (ed. C. Hempel; TSAJ 154; Tübingen, 2013), 285–299. –, Qumran Rule Texts in Context: Collected Studies (TSAJ 154; Tübingen, 2013). –, The Damascus Texts (CQS 1; Sheffield, 2000). –, The Laws of the Damascus Document: Sources, Traditions and Redaction (STDJ 29, Leiden, 1998; pb. ed. Atlanta, 2006). Hensel, B., “On the Relationship of Juda and Samaria in Post-Exilic Times: A Farewell to the Conflict Paradigm,” JSOT 44 (2019): 19–42. –, “Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: State of the Field, Desiderata, and Research Perspectives in a Necessary Debate on the Formative Period of Judaism(s),” in: Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible (ed. B. Hensel/D. Nocquet/B. Adamczewski; FAT II/120, Tübingen, 2020), 1–44. –, Juda und Samaria (FAT 110; Tübingen, 2016).

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–/ Nocquet, D./Adamczewski, B. (ed.), Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: Tracing Perspectives of Group Identity from Judah, Samaria, and the Diaspora in Biblical Traditions (FAT II/120; Tübingen, 2020). Holtz, B. W., Back to the Sources: Reading the Classic Jewish Texts (New York, 1984). Horbury, W., Messianism among Jews and Christians: Biblical and Historical Studies, 2nd ed. (London, 2016). Jaffe, M. S., Torah in the Mouth: Writing and Oral Tradition in Palestinian Judaism, 200 BCE – 400 CE (New York, 2001). Johnson, W. A., Readers and Reading Culture in the High Roman Empire: A Study of Elite Communities (Classical Culture and Society; Oxford, 2010). Jokiranta, J., “Qumran – The Prototypical Teacher in the Qumran Pesharim: A  SocialIdentity Approach,” in: Ancient Israel: The Old Testament in Its Social Context (ed. P. F. Esler; Minneapolis, 2006), 254–263. Kaiser, O., “Kult und Kultkritik im Alten Testament,” in: “Und Mose schrieb dieses Lied auf ”: Festschrift für Oswald Loretz zur Vollendung seines 70. Lebensjahres mit Beiträgen von Freunden, Schülern und Kollegen (ed. M. Dietrich/I. Kottsieper/F. Schaudig; AOAT 250; Münster, 1998), 401–426. Kartveit, M., The Origin of the Samaritans (VTSup 128; Leiden, 2009), 259–321. Kim, H. C. P., “The Myth of the Empty Exile’: A Comparative Exploration into Ancient Biblical Exile and Modern Korean Exile,” JSOT 45 (2020): 45–64. Kister, M., “Studies in 4QMiqṣat Maʿaśeh ha-Torah and Related Texts: Law, Theology, Language and Calendar,” Tarbiz 68 (1999): 317–371 [Hebrew]. Klinzing, G., Die Umdeutung des Kultus in der Qumrangemeinde und im Neuen Testament (SUNT 7; Göttingen, 1971). Knibb, M. A., “Teacher of Righteousness,” in: Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls, Vol. 2 (ed. L. H. Schiffman/J. C. VanderKam; New York, 2000), 918–921. Knoppers, G. N., Jews and Samaritans: The Origins and History of Their Early Relations (Oxford, 2013). Kratz, R. G., “Biblical Scholarship and Qumran Studies,” in: T&T Clark Companion to the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. G. J. Brooke/C. Hempel; London, 2019), 204–215. –, (ed.), Interpreting and Living God’s Law at Qumran: Miqṣat Maʿaśe ha-Torah. Some of the Works of the Torah (4QMMT) (SAPERE 37; Tübingen, 2020). –, Historisches und biblisches Israel: Drei Überblicke zum Alten Testament (Tübingen, 2013). –, Qumran: Die Schriftrollen vom Toten Meer und die Entstehung des biblischen Judentums (München, 2022). Lange, A., “2.2.1 Ancient, Late Ancient, and Early Medieval Manuscript Evidence,” in: Textual History of the Bible (ed. A. Lange), http://dx.doi.org.ezproxyd.bham.ac.uk/​ 10.1163/2452-4107_thb_COM_0002020100, accessed on April 19, 2020. –, “7.2.1 Ancient Manuscript Evidence,” in: Textual History of the Bible (ed. A. Lange), http://dx.doi.org.ezproxyd.bham.ac.uk/10.1163/2452-4107_thb_COM_0007020100, accessed on April 19, 2020. –, Die Handschriften biblischer Bücher von Qumran und den anderen Fundorten, Vol. 1 of Handbuch der Textfunde vom Toten Meer (Tübingen, 2009). Langlois, M., “The Book of Jeremiah’s Redaction History in Light of its Oldest Manuscripts,” in: Jeremiah in History and Tradition (ed. J. West/N. P. Lemche; Copenhagen International Seminar; London, 2020), 9–31.



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Lapin, H., Early Rabbinic Civil Law and the Social History of Roman Galilee (BJS 307; Atlanta, 2020). Lieberman, S., “The Discipline in the So-Called Dead Sea Manual of Discipline,” JBL 71 (1952): 199–206. Longacre, D., A Contextualised Approach to the Hebrew Dead Sea Scrolls Containing Exodus (PhD diss.; Birmingham, 2014). Magness, J., “Were Sacrifices Offered at Qumran?” JAJ 7 (2016): 5–34. –, The Archaeology of Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids, 2021). Metso, S., The Textual Development of the Qumran Community Rule (STDJ 21; Leiden, 1997). Middlemas, J. A., The Troubles of Templeless Judah (OTM; New York, 2005). Miller, S. S., At the Intersection of Texts and Material Finds: Stepped Pools, Stone Vessels, and Ritual Purity Among the Jews of Roman Galilee, 2nd ed. (JAJSup 16; Göttingen, 2019). Neusner, J., Contours of Coherence in Rabbinic Judaism (JSJSup 97; Leiden, 2004). –, The Four Stages of Rabbinic Judaism (London, 1999). Newsom, C., The Self as Symbolic Space: Constructing Identity and Community at Qumran (STDJ 52; Leiden, 2004). Noam, V., “From 4QMMT to Rabbinic Halakhah” in: Interpreting and Living God’s Law at Qumran: Miqṣat Maʿaśe ha-Torah. Some of the Works of the Torah (4QMMT) (ed. R. G. Kratz; SAPERE 37; Tübingen, 2020), 137–160. –, “Halakhah,” in: T&T Clark Companion to the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. G. J.  Brooke/C.  Hempel; London, 2019), 395–404. Pummer, R., The Samaritans: A Profile (Grand Rapids, 2016). Qimron, E./Strugnell, J., “An Unpublished Halakhic Letter from Qumran,” in: Biblical Archaeology Today: Proceedings of the International Congress on Biblical Archaeology, Jerusalem, April 1984 (ed. J. Amitai; Jerusalem, 1985), 400–407. –/ Strugnell, J., Qumran Cave 4.5: Miqṣat Maʿaśe ha-Torah (DJD 10; Oxford, 1994). Regev, E., “Abominated Temple and a Holy Community: The Formation of the Notions of Purity and Impurity in Qumran,” DSD 10 (2003): 243–278. Reich, R., “The Hot Bath-House (balneum), the Miqweh and the Jewish Community in the Second Temple Period,” JJS 39 (1988): 102–107. Rom-Shiloni, D., Exclusive Inclusivity: Identity Conflicts Between the Exiles and the People who Remained (6th–5th Centuries BCE) (LHBOTS 543; New York, 2013). Schiffman, L. H., “Community Without Temple: The Qumran Community’s Withdrawal from the Jerusalem Temple,” in: Gemeinde ohne Tempel / Community without Temple: Zur Substituierung und Transformation des Jerusalemer Tempels und seines Kults im Alten Testament, antiken Judentum und frühen Christentum (ed. B. Ego/​A . Lange/​ P. Pilhofer; WUNT 118; Tübingen, 1999), 267–284. –, “The Place of 4QMMT in the Corpus of Qumran Manuscripts,” in: Reading 4QMMT: New Perspectives on Qumran Law and History (ed. J. Kampen/M. Bernstein; SymS 2; Atlanta, 1996), 81–98. –, From Text to Tradition: A History of Second Temple and Rabbinic Judaism (Hoboken, 1991). –, The Courtyards of the House of the Lord: Studies on the Temple Scroll (STDJ 75; Leiden, 2008). –, The Halakhah at Qumran (Leiden, 1975).

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–/ Gross, A., The Temple Scroll: 11Q19, 11Q20, 11Q21, 4Q524, 5Q21 with 4Q365a (Dead Sea Scrolls Editions 1; Leiden, 2021). Schmid, K., “Overcoming the Sub-Deuteronomism and Sub-Chronicism of Historiography in Biblical Studies: The Case of the Samaritans,” in: The Bible, Qumran, and the Samaritans (ed. M. Kartveit/G. N. Knoppers; SJ 104/SSam 10; Berlin, 2018), 17–29. Schofield, A., From Qumran to the Yaḥad: A New Paradigm of Textual Development for the Community Rule (STDJ 77; Leiden, 2009). Shemesh, A., “Thou Shalt not Rabbinize the Qumran Sectarian: On the Inflexibility of the Halakah in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in: The Faces of Torah: Studies in the Texts and Contexts of Ancient Judaism in Honor of Steven Fraade (ed. M. Bar-Asher Siegal/T. Novick/C. Hayes; JAJSup 22; Göttingen, 2017), 169–178. –, Halakhah in the Making: The Development of Jewish Law from Qumran to the Rabbis (Taubman Lectures in Jewish Studies 6; Berkeley, 2009). Southwood, K., Ethnicity and the Mixed Marriage Crisis in Ezra 9–10: An Anthropological Approach (OTM; Oxford, 2012). Stern, S., “Attribution and Authorship in the Babylonian Talmud,” JJS 45 (1994): 28–51. Stökl Ben Ezra, D., Qumran: Die Texte vom Toten Meer und das antike Judentum (UTB 4681; Tübingen, 2016). Strugnell, J., “MMT: Second Thoughts on a Forthcoming Edition,” in: The Community of the Renewed Covenant: The Notre Dame Symposium on the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. E. Ulrich/J. VanderKam; Christianity and Judaism in Antiquity 10; Notre Dame, 1994), 57–73. Stuckenbruck, L. T., “The Legacy of the Teacher of Righteousness in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in: New Perspectives on Old Texts: Proceedings of the Tenth International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 9–11 January 2005 (ed. E. G. Chazon/B. Halpern-Amaru/R. A. Clements; STDJ 88; Leiden, 2010), 23–49. –, “The Teacher of Righteousness Remembered: From Fragmentary Sources to Collective Memory in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in: Memory in the Bible and Antiquity: The Fifth Durham-Tübingen Research Symposium (Durham, September 2004) (ed. S. Barton/L. Stuckenbruck/B. Wold; WUNT 212; Tübingen, 2007), 75–94. Sussman, Y., “Appendix 1: The History of the Halakha and the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in: Qumran Cave 4.5: Miqṣat Maʿaśeh ha-Torah (ed. E. Qimron/J. Strugnell; DJD 10; Oxford, 1994), 179–206. Tigchelaar, E., “Jeremiah’s Scriptures in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Growth of a Tradition,” in: Jeremiah’s Scriptures: Production, Reception, Interaction, and Transformation (ed. H. Najman/K. Schmid; JSJSup 173; Leiden, 2016), 289–306. Tiller, P. A., “The ‘Eternal Planting’ in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” DSD 4 (1997): 312–335. Tov, E., Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, 2nd ed. (Minneapolis, 2001). –, The Greek and Hebrew Bible: Collected Essays on the Septuagint (VTSup 72; Leiden, 1999). Ulrich, E., The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Developmental Composition of the Bible (VTSup 169; Leiden, 2015) –, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Origins of the Bible (Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature; Grand Rapids, 1999). VanderKam, J. C., The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Bible (Grand Rapids, 2012). Wassén, C., “Do You Have to Be Pure in a Metaphorical Temple? Sanctuary Metaphors and Construction of Sacred Space in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Paul’s Letters,” in: Purity,



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Holiness, and Identity in Judaism and Christianity: Essays in Memory of Susan Haber (ed. C. S. Ehrlich/A. Runesson/E. Schuller; WUNT 305; Tübingen, 2013), 55–86. –, Women in the Damascus Document (AcBib 21; Atlanta, 2005). Weissenberg, H. von, 4QMMT: Reevaluating the Text, the Function, and the Meaning of the Epilogue (STDJ 82; Leiden, 2009). Xeravits, G. G./Porzig, P., Einführung in die Qumranliteratur (Berlin, 2015). Yadin, Y., The Temple Scroll, Vol. 3 (Jerusalem, 1983). Zahn, M., Genres of Rewriting in Second Temple Judaism: Scribal Composition and Transmission (Cambridge, 2020). Zissu, B./Amit, D., “Common Judaism, Common Purity, and the Second Temple Period Judean Miqwaʾot (Ritual Immersion Baths),” in: Common Judaism: Explorations in Second-Temple Judaism (ed. W. O. McCready/A. Reinhartz; Minneapolis, 2008), 47–62.

The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim (2019–2021) Preliminary Findings Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld 1.  The Excavation Mount Gerizim is situated south of the city of Shechem-Nablus (coordinates 225901/678603). The site was excavated intermittently between 1982–2009, at the sacred area on top of the mountain and around it, mainly on the western and southern slopes.1 In most of the area excavated in those years, the architecture and finds dated to the Hellenistic period, but some Persian period assemblages and associated architecture were uncovered in the sacred compound and dated to the mid-fifth century BCE.2 The renewed excavations at Mt. Gerizim began in 2019 as a salvage operation due to illegal building activity on the archaeological site ( fig. 1).3 Excavations have taken place primarily in two fields on the northern slope. One is field 37, where ca. 16 squares were opened in 2019. The other is field 42, located southeast of field 37, where four areas were excavated: area A consisting of 6 squares in 2019, area B that included ca. 30 squares over three seasons in 2019–21, area C that contained ca. 20 squares in 2019–20, and area D, also excavated for three seasons, which housed ca. 30 squares in 2019–21 ( fig. 2). The total pottery percentages provided below are based on the cumulative results of the three seasons from all squares dug during that time. Area B was excavated more extensively than the other areas, including area D, where throughout the three seasons, we did not go as deep as in area B. Nonetheless, the material found in all fields and areas is quite uniform. 1 

The excavation, led by Yitzhak Magen, was supervised by Yevgeny Aharonovich, Khaled Arabas, Evgeny Kagan, Muhamad Nasser, Uri Ben-Ziony, Sivan Sarig, Orna Sirkis, Eilat Cohen, Yoav Zionit, Ronen Bitan, and Arie Kapitaikin. 2 Magen, “Mt. Gerizim”; Magen/Tsfania/Misgav, “Hebrew and Aramaic Inscriptions”; Magen/​Misgav/Tsfania, Mount Gerizim Excavations 1; Magen, “Dating of First”; Magen, Excavations, Mount Gerizim II; Magen, “Temple of Yhwh”; Magen/Bijovsky/Tzionit, Mount Gerizim Excavations. 3 Additional staff included Shlomi Amami (photography), Felix Portnov (surveyor), Miriam Manukian (drawings), Anna Harel (illustrations), Hassan Janazreh and Fleur Haber (registration).

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Figure 1: Beginning of the excavation in 2019. The area excavated in relation to the sacred compound and the top of the mountain.

Figure 2: Field 42 Areas B–D, season 2, 2020.

The pottery corpus in these units is not restricted to the Persian period; virtually equal amounts of vessels from the Persian and Hellenistic periods were registered. Although this is still a work in progress, the finds seem to indicate –

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especially the oil-lamps – that the site was occupied without interruption from the fifth or maybe even the sixth century BCE into the early third century BCE. A very small amount of Iron Age pottery was also found, as was some pottery belonging to the Late Roman period, but the bulk of the finds can be dated to the Persian and early Hellenistic periods. This chronological range is accurate for the area now excavated on the northern slope. It does not contradict the suggestion that at least the sacred area was first built in the late Iron Age II, probably in the sixth century BCE.4 It should be mentioned, nonetheless, that while Y. Magen has dated the public and residential buildings around the sacred compound on Gerizim to the Hellenistic period, the coin report has shown that coins dating to the fifth century BCE were found in several of these buildings (buildings nos. 37, 23 and 25).5 This may indicate that, like our quarter of the site, the earliest phase of the town structures excavated in previous years on the southern and western slopes should perhaps also be dated to the Persian period. 1.1  Description and Architecture The area in general is a residential neighborhood, characterized by buildings on the slope of the mountain, often with supporting walls, like terraces, to support the buildings due to the steepness of the slope. Since areas B and D are located higher up the mountain, they contain more supporting walls than area C, which is further down the slope and more horizontal than the other areas. Field 37. This residential building has several floors – 14, 24, 30, 46. All floors were cut into the rock. Floor 30 had coins on it (bucket 143, 147) and pottery (bucket 144, 151). The pottery recorded on the floor has been dated to the Hellenistic period. Floor 14 and its pottery (bucket 87) goes with massive wall 21, whose upper part is covered by a modern concrete wall. This also seems to belong to the Hellenistic level. Floor 24 also had a coin (bucket 112) and pottery (bucket 113) dated to the Persian period. Floors 46 and 24 seem to belong to the earlier phase of the Persian period and maybe also floor 23. In sum, this field/area has two occupational levels, one from the Persian and one from the Hellenistic period, with floors and coins. The coins have not yet been dated by a numismatist; the proposed dating relies solely on the pottery recovered in situ.

4 

Arie, “Revisiting Mount Gerizim.” Mount Gerizim Excavations 3, 12.130.

5 Magen/Bijovsky/Tzionit,

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1.2  Field 42 Area A. the excavation in this area was limited in space and time. A few walls were exposed but then covered up again because they fell outside the perimeter. A few coins were found (buckets 25, 29–32, 102, 103, 106) that remain unanalyzed, alongside pottery dating to the Persian and Hellenistic periods. Area C. in this area, a little down the slope from Areas B and D, there are three long rectangular rooms connected with doorways at the middle more or less aligned one with another, an architecture different from the residential rooms in the other areas. The finds in this area are not different from other areas so we assume this, too, is a residential building, although a warehouse is not out of the question. Few floors were identified in this area (313, 372). Floor 372 is comprised of small stones laid on bedrock. Bucket 488 from locus 366 was sent for restoration; its contents were recovered on top of Floor 372. Locus 366 also included coins (buckets 484, 470, 463, 461, 450). Both Persian and Hellenistic pottery was found in the floor content. Area D. This residential area contains at least two phases, as can be seen by the rebuild of walls in the center of the area. It includes two buildings. One had five rooms, with two floors identified. Coins and Hellenistic pottery were recovered from Floor 591, while the finds above Floor 576 (loci 568 and 569) included coins, a fibula, and Persian and Hellenistic pottery, with a concentration of pottery in locus 569. A built tunnel (locus 575) containing Persian and Hellenistic pottery was covered over by Floor 576. A second building to the east of the first had at least two rooms; it has only been partially excavated. One room was connected to the other by a staircase of four steps located in the middle of the long room, in a similar arrangement to the building excavated in area C. This long room has two clear phases. For one of them a floor (locus 538), which contained two coins and Persian and Hellenistic pottery. The function of a very wide wall (544), about 3m wide, is unclear; it goes with the slope so probably is not a support wall. Area B ( fig. 3). This is the largest area excavated, about 40 × 20 m long, spread on the slopes of the mountain. In this area we found what seems to be two streets arranged perpendicularly at 90 degrees to each other and at least seven buildings made up of two-three rooms each. Also found were supporting walls, as the area is quite steep, and the buildings needed to be stabilized ( fig. 4). Some of the buildings contained pillars, two-three per room, which supported the roofs. These roofs may have been made of stone, because a huge number of large slabs were found in the debris in the rooms. This may indicate that an upper floor/ story had been built in some of these buildings. Only three floors were found in this area: 326, 336, and 330; the last had many coins and pottery. Floor 326



The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim

Figure 3: Area B season 3, 2021.

Figure 4: Isometric reconstruction of Area B along the slope.

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Figure 5: Area B – loci, walls and floor numbers.

contained Persian pottery, while Floors 330 and 336 contained Persian and Hellenistic pottery. Locus 268 could also have been a floor; it contained coins and Persian and Hellenistic pottery ( fig. 5).

2.  The Persian-Period Pottery About 1,120 vessels comprise the Persian-period pottery corpus of Har Gerizim, of which, jars compose 56 %, jugs 17 %, bowls 17 %, cooking pots 7 %, and kraters 3 %. Area B contained 60–70 % of all forms and types, Area D 17–26 %, Area C 6–14 %, and Field 37, 8 % from field 37, depending on the type. Several jug (C and D) and jar (A5–7) types were only found in area B. However, jug B3 was only found in area D. The forms and types used at Gerizim in the Persian period are similar to other sites in the hill and mountain areas, especially in Samaria and Benjamin. The shapes and types of the Iron Age continue and develop the same way in the entire area from north to south throughout the Persian and Hellenistic periods. The only difference is regional: other areas like the coast, Jerusalem, and the Judean lowland (shephelah) show a richer repertoire of pottery.

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Bowls type A1–2, B2–3, C1 and mortaria D1 are quite common from the sixth to fourth centuries BCE, as indicated by the references and literature.6 However, the kraters, cooking pots, jars, and most of the jugs are typical of the late Persian period and are not found in the sixth century BCE. Jug D is more in line with the ridge-necked, early Persian period types but should be dated in the fifth-fourth centuries BCE. Bowls type B and cooking pots type A are also common at Jubara, a village in the northwestern Samaria area, where occupation continued from the Iron Age through the Persian and Hellenistic periods.7 It seems that the pottery assemblage of the sacred monumental site on Mt. Gerizim was not much different than that of the village of Jubarah. 2.1  Bowls, Plates and Mortaria ( fig. 6:1–16 and 7)

A.  Carinated Bowls with Everted Rim These bowls are common in the Persian period in the mountainous area as well as in the coast and Transjordan. They are smooth and imitate stone bowls of this period, like the one found in Area B ( fig. 7).8 A1: Carinated Small Bowls with Everted Rim ( fig. 6:1) Altogether, there are 16 carinated small bowls, 75 % of which are from area B. A2: Carinated Bowls with Everted Wide Flat Rim ( fig. 6:2) Altogether, there are 43 carinated bowls, 80 % of which are from area B.

B.  Incurved-Rim Bowls These bowls are very common in the Persian period throughout the entire area. Various versions are common from the late Iron Age to the Roman period with changes in ware, base, and incurved angle. B1: Incurved Rounded Medium Bowls ( fig. 6:3–4) Altogether, there are 14 incurved bowls, 72 % of which are from area B. B2: Incurved Rounded Large Bowl with Thick Rim ( fig. 6:5) Altogether, there are 15 incurved bowls, 60 % of which are from area B. 6 Freud,

Judahite Pottery. Regev/Greenfeld, “New Finds.” 8  References: Tel Michal (Kapitaikin, “Pottery from Tel Michal,” fig. 1:8–9); Tall Umayri (Bienkowski, “Persian Period,” fig. 11.2:14–15); Hurvat ՙEres (Mazar/Wachtel, “Ḥurvat ՙEres,” fig. 12:4); Jerusalem (Shalev, “Early Persian Period Pottery,” fig. 4.1:15, 20; Freud, Judahite Pottery, 114–15, fig. 16:B9.2; Greenberg/Cinamon, “Excavations at Rogem Gannim,” fig. 25:2; Bocher, “Pottery,” fig. 5.3:1–2); Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 2.4:2) late sixth-early fifth centuries BCE; ʿIraq al-Amir (Lapp, Excavations, pl. 3.8:7) early Persian; Jaffa (Danielson et al., “Persian and Hellenistic Jaffa,” fig. 20:1) early fifth-mid fourth century BCE. 7 

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Figure 6: Persian period pottery: bowls plates and mortaria.

Figure 7: Persian period stone bowl.



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B3: Rounded Medium Bowls with Simple Straight Rim, Sometimes with a Groove under Rim ( fig. 6:6) Altogether, there are 10 bowls, 90 % of which are from area B. None were found in area C.

C. Plates Coarse plates of various sizes are not very common in the Persian period. Although found throughout the period, they become more popular in the fourth century BCE.9 C1: Thin Plates with Simple Rim Altogether, there are 9 thin plates, 78 % of which are from area D. None were found in area C. The sherds are small fragments. No drawing has been made or photo taken. C2: Plate with Thick Walls and Sharp Incurved Rim ( fig. 6:9) Altogether, there are 4 plates, 75 % of which from area B. None were found in area C. C3: Thick Plates with Thickened Rim Altogether, there are 20 plates, 75 % of which originated from area D. None were recovered in area C. The sherds are small fragments, so no drawing has been made or photo taken.

D. Mortaria Mortar plates are one of the commonest fingerprints of the Persian period. They begin to be used in the late Iron Age in the seventh century and continue in use through the late fourth century BCE. The types found in our excavation are mainly the later types datable to the fifth-fourth centuries BCE.10 D1: Mortaria with Thick Elongated Rim ( fig. 6:10) Altogether, 9 mortaria have been excavated, 66 % of which were recovered from area B. None were found in area C. D2: Mortaria with Rounded Thick Rim ( fig. 6:11–13) Altogether, there are 26 mortaria, 92 % of which are from area B. None were found in area C. 9 References: Judea (Freud, Judahite Pottery, 105–106, fig. 16:B2.1); Zaʾaquqa (Regev, “Greeks at Idumaea,” fig. 4:4–6); Tel ʿAgol (Feig, “Tel ʿAgol,” fig. 13:1). 10 References: Rotzez (Yannai, “Salvage Excavation,” fig. 14:3); Nahal Tut, late fourth century BCE (Alexandre, “Ḥorbat ʿOfrat,” fig. 60:1); Tel Michal (Kapitaikin, “Pottery from Tel Michal,” figs. 2:5–6; 3:16, 21); Judea (Freud, Judahite Pottery, 133–34, fig. 18:K2); Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pls. 2.8:28; 2.4:10) late sixth-early fifth centuries BCE.

74

Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld

D3: Mortaria/Plate with Thick Walls and Rounded Rim ( fig. 6:14) Altogether, 16 mortaria have been found, 94 % of which are from area B. None were recovered in area C.

Summary of Bowls (fig. 6:1–16) There are 59 type A, carinated bowls that constitute 32.5 % of all the bowls. There are 39 type B, rounded bowls. They comprise 21.5 % of all the bowls. 33 plates, type C; 18 % of all the bowls. 50 mortaria, type D (mortaria bases 20 not included in this number). 27.5 % of all the bowls. 32 bowl bases belong to the types described; most are from mortaria (63 %). The total quantity of bowl rims and bases is 213, which probably represents 180–200 bowls. 70 % of all bowl types were found in area B. Only 7 % of the bowls were found in area C, only from types A and B, none from types C and D. 23 % of the bowls were found in area D of the main 4 bowl types, types A and B appear in all areas and types C and D do were not found in area C at all. This is an issue of distribution, not the extent of excavation. 2.2  Kraters ( fig. 8:17–19)

Figure 8: Persian period pottery: kraters and cooking pots.

A.  Large Wide Neck Krater with Rounded Rim and Heavy Handles (fig. 8:17) Most of the kraters recovered at the site are of this coarse type.11 Altogether, there are 25 large kraters, 72 % of which are from area B.

B.  Medium Wide Neck Krater with Everted Flat Rim ( fig. 8:18) This is another coarse krater common in the Persian period.12 Altogether, there are 9 kraters. None were found in area C.

11  12 

References: Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 2.5:9) late sixth-early fifth centuries BCE. References: Jerusalem, City of David (Bocher, “Pottery,” fig. 5.3:7–8).

The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim



75

C.  Medium Wide Neck Krater with Rounded Rim ( fig. 8:19) This is a somewhat less common type of krater.13 Altogether, 4 examples of this krater were recovered. None were from area C.

Summary of Kraters ( fig. 8:17–19) 25 large kraters, type A, 65 % of all kraters. 9 medium kraters, type B, 23 % of all kraters. 4 medium kraters, type C, 11 % of all kraters. The total number of krater sherds, 38, probably represents 35–38 kraters. Except for two examples from area C, all the kraters were found in areas B and D; 68 % in area B and 26 % in area D. 2.3  Cooking Pots ( fig. 9:20–24)

Figure 9: Persian period pottery: kraters and cooking pots.

A.  Globular Body, Long Neck ( fig. 9:20–23). This heavy cooking pot with two handles from rim to body was fashioned using several clay types. This is the most common type at our site during the Persian period. It also was popular in the coastal area during this same period.14

13 

References: no exact parallel is known. Rotzez (Yannai, “Salvage Excavation,” fig. 15:10); Tel Eton (Faust/Katz/ Eyall, “Late Persian Remains,” fig. 12:9; Lehmann, “Trends,” fig. 8:16) 580–540 BCE; Tel Michal (Kapitaikin, “Pottery from Tel Michal,” fig. 5:1–2); Rishon Le-Zion (Tal, “Persian Period Remains,” fig. 3:4); Jaffa (Danielson et al., “Persian and Hellenistic Jaffa,” fig. 11:6) early fifthmid fourth century BCE. 14 References:

76

Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld

Globular Body, Long Slightly Flaring Neck ( fig. 9:24). Only a few examples of this type were found at Mt. Gerizim. This type is found also in the coastal area.15

Summary of Cooking Pots ( fig. 9:20–24) There are 88 cooking pot sherds that belong to one type, with slight variations. They probably represent 70–80 items. 62 % were found in area B, 13 % in area C, and 23 % in area D. 2.4  Jugs ( fig. 10)

A.  Neckless Jug with Everted Rim, No Handles (fig. 10:25–26) Altogether, there are 31 jugs of the neckless type, 58 % of which are from area B, 16 % from area C, about 10 % from area D, and 16 % from field 37.16

B.  Neck Jugs B1: High Neck, Rounded Thick Rim, Handle from Rim to Body ( fig. 10:27–28) Altogether, 109 jugs of the neckless type were recovered, 63 % from area B, 4.5 % from area C, about 25 % from area D and 7 % from field 37.17 B2: Short Wide Neck, Rounded Rim, Handle from Neck to Body ( fig. 10:29) Altogether, there are 55 jugs of the short neck type, 56 % are from area B, 12 % from area C, about 23 % from area D, and 12 % from field 37.18 B3: High Neck, Rounded Rim ( fig. 10:30) Only 2 items of this type were found, both in area D.19

C.  High Narrow Neck, Thickened Rim ( fig. 10:31) This type with 16 items was found only in area B.20 15 References: Tel Michal (Kapitaikin, “Pottery from Tel Michal,” fig. 5:3); Tell el-Fara (South) (Lehmann et al., “Excavations,” fig. 13:4); Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 2.10:1) late sixth-early fifth centuries BCE; Tel Hanan (Nagorsky/Israeli, “Persian-and- Hellenistic-Period Settlement,” fig. 13:27). 16 References: (Lehmann, “Trends,” fig. 8:12, 580–540 BCE); Jerusalem, City of David (Bocher, “Pottery,” fig. 5.3:6). 17  References: Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 2.3:1) late sixth-early fifth centuries BCE. 18  References: Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 3.15:11–12) late fourth-early third centuries BCE. 19 References: Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 3.15:3) late fourth-early third centuries BCE; ʿIraq al-Amir (Lapp, Excavations, pl. 3.13:5) early Persian. 20 References: Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 3.16:1) late fourth-early third centuries BCE.



The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim

77

Figure 10: Persian period pottery: jugs.

D.  High Ridged Neck with Everted Rim ( fig. 10:32–33) There were 10 items of this type was found. All were in area B.21

Summary of Jugs ( fig. 10:25–36) Four jug types include 223 sherds. An additional 19 bases were found only in area B. The recovered pieces probably represent 190–210 jugs. Types A  and B1–2 appeared in all areas, type B3 appeared only in area D, while types C and D appeared only in area B. About 65 % of all the jugs were found in area B, 7.5 % are from area C, 20 % from area D, and 7.5 % from field 37. 21  References: similar but of earlier type in (Freud, Judahite Pottery, 145, fig. 20:JG2). Our type is undecorated. Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 2.3:2–3,14) late sixth-early fifth centuries BCE.

78

Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld

2.5  Jars ( fig. 11)

A.  Neckless Jars A1: Neckless Jar with Rounded Thick Rim, Base Slightly Pointed and Elongated Handles ( fig. 11:37) 385 rim fragments of a jar with thick rim represent probably 300–350 vessels. This is the most common type of the Persian period; 45 % appear in area B, 18 % in area C, about 23 % in area D, and 13 % in field 37.22 A2: Neckless Jar with Rounded Heavy Rim with a Sharp External Edge ( fig. 11:38) 87 rims of a jar with a thick rim represent probably 65–80 vessels; 88.5 % appear in area B, about 8 % in area C, 1 % in area D, and 2 % in field 37.23 A3: Neckless Jar with Elongated to Squarish Flattened Rim ( fig. 11:39) 30 rims of this type were found only in area B (86.5 %) and area D (13.5 %).24 The three variants of type A  neckless jars were represented by 519 rims, 303 handles and 20 bases. They probably represent around 460–500 items. A1, which was more common, appears in all areas, and the less common types A2–3 appear mainly in area B. A1 constitutes 74 % of the type, A2 20 %, and A3 about 5.5 %. 56.5 % of the jars comes from area B, 15 % from area C, 18 % from area D, and 10 % from field 37.

B.  Low Neck Jars B1: Low Neck Jar with Rounded Thick Rim ( fig. 11:40) 81 rim fragments of a jar with a thick rim represent probably 65–80 vessels; 61 % appear in area B, about 14 % in area C, 18.5 % in area D, and 5 % in field 37.25 B2: Low Ridged Neck Jar with Rounded Thick Rim ( fig. 11:41–42) 9 rims of this type were found, only in area B.26 22  References: Nahal Tut, late fourth century BCE (Alexandre, “Ḥorbat ʿOfrat,” fig. 60:3); Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 2.1:16) late sixth-early fifth centuries BCE; ʿIraq al-Amir (Lapp, Excavations, pl. 3.13:4) early Persian; Jaffa (Danielson et al., “Persian and Hellenistic Jaffa,” fig. 25:12) mid-fourth-second century BCE. 23  References: Nahal Tut, late fourth century BCE (Alexandre, “Ḥorbat ʿOfrat,” figs. 53:12; 60:11); Qedumim (Stern and Magen, “Pottery Group,” fig. 8:2); Samaria (Regev and Greenfeld, “New Finds,” fig. 11:2); Tel Michal (Kapitaikin, “Pottery from Tel Michal,” fig. 6:10). 24  References: Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 2.1:5) late sixth-early fifth centuries BCE; Ofrat, late fourth century BCE (Alexandre, “Ḥorbat ʿOfrat,” fig. 25:7–8); Rishon Le-Zion (Tal, “Persian Period Remains,” fig. 3:3). 25  References: Nahal Tut, late fourth century BCE (Alexandre, “Ḥorbat ʿOfrat,” fig. 53:13); Rosh Haʿayin (Haddad et al., “Administrative Building,” fig. 9:17); Rogem Gannim, Jerusalem (Greenberg and Cinamon, “Excavations,” fig. 23:7); Samaria (Regev and Greenfeld, “New Finds,” fig. 11:3); Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 2.1:15) late sixth-early fifth centuries BCE. 26  References: Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 2.1:7) late sixth-early fifth centuries BCE; ʿIraq al-Amir (Lapp, Excavations, pl. 3.4:3) early Persian; Tel ʿAgol (Feig, “Tel ʿAgol,” fig. 14:4–5).

The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim



79

Figure 11: Persian period pottery: jars.

B3: Low Neck Jar with Folded Rim ( fig. 11:43) Sometimes this jar was made of less coarse ware. Although this type belongs to the late Persian- early Hellenistic period, it associated more with the Persian period because of the ware and the elongated handles.27 25 rims of this type were found only in area B. Around 300 elongated handles of type B3 were found, along with 20 bases. 27 

References: Shechem (Lapp, Shechem IV, pl. 2.1:19) late sixth-early fifth centuries BCE.

80

Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld

The three variants of type B contain 115 rims. They probably represent around 100 items. B1, which is the more common appears in all areas, and the less common types B2–3 appear only in area B. B1 constitutes 70 % of the type, B2 about 7 %, and B3 about 20 %; 73 % of the jars comes from area B, 10 % from area C, 13 % from area D and 3 % from field 37.

Summary of Jars ( fig. 11:37–46) The 634 recovered jar rims represent about 600 items. Most of the jars belong to the variations of type A, comprising over 80 % of the total amount. The most common jar type has an oval elongated body, thick rim, elongated handles, and usually a shallow pointed base, similar to the late fourth century jar from Nahal Tut.28 2.6  Oil Lamps ( fig. 12) Two types were found on Mt. Gerizim. One is the typical open, pinched oil lamp of the Persian period. The other is the closed, large oil lamp of the fourth and early third centuries BCE.

A.  Open Pinched Oil Lamp ( fig. 12:47–50) Altogether, 25 of this type of oil lamp were found, 60 % from area B, 40 % from area D, and 1 item from area C. This is the common and practically only type of oil lamp in the southern Levant in the Persian period.29

B.  Closed Large Oil Lamp, Mostly Very Coarse ( fig. 12:51–53) Altogether, 12 of these oil lamps were recovered, 41 % from area B, 41 % from area D, and 16 % from area C.30

C.  Mold-Made Closed Oil Lamp ( fig. 12:54) This complete lamp is the only one of its type found at Mt. Gerizim. It is dated to the third century BCE and is the latest of the oil lamps found. This is not a Persian period item, but since it is unique, it is presented here to show the end of the scope of the first phase in the site. 28 

Alexandre, “Ḥorbat ʿOfrat,” 50: 6; 52: 2. References: Sussman, Oil-Lamps, 82–89, nos. 1,462–97; Tel Michal (Kapitaikin, “Pottery from Tel Michal,” fig. 6:10); Marisa (Regev, “Appendix 2,” 179, form 87). 30  References: Tel Michal (Kapitaikin, “Pottery from Tel Michal,” fig. 11:9); Nahal Tut, late fourth century BCE (Alexandre, “Ḥorbat ʿOfrat,” fig. 53:18); (Haddad et al., “Administrative Building,” fig. 9:22); Marisa (Regev, “Appendix 2,” 181, form 92a). 29 



The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim

81

Figure 12: Persian period pottery: oil lamps.

Summary of Lamps ( fig. 12:47–54) The remains of 38 oil lamps, with possibly a few additional small sherds, compose a small portion of the overall pottery. Nevertheless, they indicate that the excavated buildings on the northern slope of Mt. Gerizim are to be dated no later than the early third century BCE.

Bowl B2

Bowl B3

Bowl B

Bowl B

Plate C2

Mortar D1

Mortar D2

Mortar D2

Mortar D2

Mortar D3

Mortar D

Mortar D

 5

 6

 7

 8

 9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

Krater B

Bowl B1

 4

18

Bowl B1

 3

Krater A

Bowl A2

 2

17

Bowl A1

 1

6

 8

Form & Type

Fig. No.

D

D

C

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

Area

521

556

362

298

247

249

249

249

249

298

284

298

284

244

298

264

253

268

Loc.

541?

5819

444

1944

1563

1408

1422

1408

1375

1707

1714

1944

1754

1339

1961

1581

1451

1617

Bas.

7.5YR 7/8 reddish yellow coarse soft ware with many inclusions.

7.5YR 8/6 reddish yellow coarse ware with many large brown and small white inclusions. Two grooves on the handles.

7.5YR 7/8 reddish yellow coarse ware with many grey inclusions.

7.5YR 7/6 reddish yellow coarse ware with many white and grey inclusions.

10YR 7/6 yellow coarse ware with many white and grey inclusions, core is 5YR5/6 pale olive.

7.5YR-8/4, coarse ware, many gray and white inclusions.

5YR-7/6 reddish yellow, coarse ware, many grey inclusions.

7.5YR-8/4, coarse ware, many gray and white inclusions.

7.5YR-8/4, soft ware, many white inclusions.

7.5YR7/8 reddish yellow semi fine ware with small amount of small inclusions.

7.5YR-7/6, coarse ware with large white and small grey inclusions.

10YR-7/4–6, many white inclusions.

7.5YR 7/6, hard ware, many white and grey inclusions.

7.5YR 7/6, coarse ware, many white inclusions.

Ext.7.5YR 7/8 reddish yellow int.7.5YR-3/4 dark brown.

10YR 8/6, many white inclusions, hole drilled bellow rim.

10YR-8/4, white inclusions.

Reddish yellow, many white and grey inclusions.

Description

Table 1 – Pottery. Numbers Correspond with the Illustrations

82 Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld

11

10

 9

Jug C

Jug D

Jug D

Jug

Jug

Jug

31

32

33

34

35

36

Jar A2

Jug B3

30

38

Jug B2

29

Jar A1

Jug B1

28

37

Jug B1

27

CP B

24

Jug A

CP A

23

Jug A

CP A

22

26

CP A

21

25

CP A

Krater C

20

19

247

239

253

253

249

283

252

213

252

292

292

253

298

270

296

249

332

291

253

278

1540

1332

253–2

253–1

1374

1992

1431

1075

1494

1261

1855

1492

1961

1887

1915

1374

316

1850

1424

1707

10YR-7/6, very coarse ware with grey and white inclusions.

10YR 6/6, coarse ware with grey and white inclusions.

7.5YR 7/8 coarse ware with grey and white inclusions.

7.5YR-7/8 reddish yellow, many red, gray and white inclusions.

7.5YR 7/6 reddish yellow coarse ware with many white and grey inclusions.

7/6 reddish hard ware with grey inclusions.

7.5YR 8/4 pink soft ware.

8/6 reddish yellow coarse ware with red, grey and white inclusions.

5YR 7/6 reddish yellow coarse ware with many grey and white inclusions.

7.5YR 6/8 strong brown coarse ware with many grey and white inclusions.

7.5YR-8/6 reddish yellow ware.

7.5YR 7/6 reddish yellow, coarse ware with many white and grey inclusions.

7.5YR 7/6 reddish yellow, coarse ware with white and grey inclusions.

10YR 8/4 yellow, very coarse ware with many grey and white inclusions.

2.5 YR-6/8 light red.

5YR 5/6 yellowish red hard ware with a horizontal groove on the rim.

5YR 7/8–6/8 reddish yellow ware with white inclusions, thick walls for a cooking pot.

2.5 YR-6/8 light red.

2.5 YR-6/8 light red.

10YR 8/4 very pale brown coarse ware with many large white and small grey inclusions.

The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

B

C

B

B

B



83

Lamp A

Lamp B

Lamp B

Lamp B

Lamp C

51

52

53

54

Jar

46

50

Jar

45

Lamp A

Jar

44

49

Jar B3

43

Lamp A

Jar B2

42

Lamp A

Jar B2

41

48

Jar B1

40

47

Jar A3

39

11

12

Form & Type

Fig. No.

D

B

D

C

D

D

B

B

B

D

B

B

D

37

B

B

Area

504

287

565

339

568

577

242

258

247

503

301

270

503

15

297

207

Loc.

5265

1756

5770

338

5409

5810

1331

1956

1416

5072

2036

1983

5070

165

2016

1019

Bas.

7.5YR 8/6 reddish yellow ware, remains of ash on the nuzzle and a small disk base. L:7.8 W:5.8 H:3.6.

7/6 reddish yellow ware.

5YR 8/4 pink ware.

5YR 7/6 reddish yellow half-baked ware with cracks.

7.5YR 7/8 reddish yellow coarse ware with white and grey inclusions. L:7 W:6.5 H:4.2.

5YR 7/6 yellow coarse ware with white and grey inclusions. L.9.9 W:7.8 H:3.1.

7.5YR 8/3 pink ware.

7.5YR 8/2 pinkish white, inside 7.5YR6/8 reddish yellow.

7.5YR 7/6 reddish yellow coarse ware with white and grey inclusions.

10YR 8/6 coarse ware.

7.5YR 8/6 reddish yellow coarse ware with grey and white inclusions.

7.5YR 8/4 pink coarse hard ware with small grey inclusions.

10YR 8/6 coarse ware with many grey and white inclusions. Arched lines cut on the rim.

10YR 7/6 light red coarse ware with many grey and white inclusions.

10YR 8/6, very coarse ware with brown and white inclusions.

7.5YR 8/6 reddish yellow coarse ware with many brown and white inclusions.

Description

84 Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld

The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim



85

3. Conclusions As indicated by the finds from our excavations, the town on the slopes of Mt. Gerizim, or at least this neighborhood of the town on the northern slope, was quite humble in terms of its economic status. This may have been due to external circumstances and the economic difficulties caused by many years of wars between the Ptolemaic and Seleucid empires. Alternatively, it might have been due to the religious adherence of the local population, who avoided imported vessels.31 Tabun bricks were found in areas B and D, some pottery wasters in area D, and a few metal slags in area B. Although the wasters and slag were limited in quantity, they still indicate that some industrial activity was carried out in this area. Whether these remains are contemporaneous with the architecture and the Persian and early Hellenistic period pottery is still unclear. In addition, basalt mortars were found and quite a lot of nails. Although close to the sacred area on top of the mountain, these buildings served a population of moderate means that did not use luxury or imported items. Even decorated plain ware pottery is very rare in this area ( fig. 13). The percentage of jars and jugs reveal the northern slope served more as a storage and industrial area than a high level, residential area. The situation in this regard is somewhat different at nearby Shechem, where imported Greek pottery was found in fills that originated in one or more occupational phases dating to the Persian period.32

Figure 13: Persian period decorated plain ware pottery.

As mentioned, this excavation is a work in progress, and the analysis of the pottery of the Hellenistic period has not yet been completed. Nonetheless, contrary to the reports of the previous excavations and historical sources, the finds from our salvage excavations do not indicate that a new occupational phase began in the area in the second century BCE. We also have no evidence of an occupational gap between the Persian and Hellenistic periods, as has been suggested by other 31 

Magen, “Temple of Yhwh,” 293. Shechem IV, 33–36, pls. 2.12–2.15.

32 Lapp,

86

Dalit Regev and Uzi Greenfeld

interpretations of the earlier excavations.33 Based on the pottery dating to both the Persian and Hellenistic periods, we see an occupational phase from sometime in the Persian period into the early Hellenistic period. Currently, the finds cannot be dated later than the early third century BCE. This may indicate that a destruction or abandonment of the buildings on the northern slope took place in the early third century, with only partial renewal, of the sacred area and some of the residential buildings, but probably not on the northern slope. The Aramaic inscriptions carved on the temple walls were dated between the fifth/fourth and third/second centuries BCE and contained mainly Jewish names.34 Based also on the pottery and small finds, there is no indication of a different, non-local population at Gerizim throughout the Persian and Hellenistic periods. It seems, therefore, that the same Israelite population of the pre-exilic period stayed at Gerizim, with some added elements. Even though it was as a major cultic center, Gerizim and the central mountainous area was poorer than other areas, probably because it was not part of the main trade routes during the Persian and Hellenistic periods. Samaria and Shechem were on the trade routes in the Bronze and Iron Ages, but fell off it by the Persian period.

Bibliography Alexandre, Y., “Iron Age, Persian–Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine and Crusader–MamlukPeriod Remains at Ḥorbat ʿOfrat in Lower Galilee,” Atiqot 95 (2019): 65–114. –, “Naḥal Tut (Site VIII): A Fortified Storage Depot from the Late Fourth Century BCE,” Atiqot 52 (2006): 131–189. Arie, E., “Revisiting Mount Gerizim: The Foundation of the Sacred Precinct and the Proto-Ionic Capitals,” in: New Studies in the Archaeology of Jerusalem and Its Region, Vol. 14 (ed. Y. Zelinger et al.; Jerusalem, 2021), 39–63. Bienkowski, P., “The Persian Period,” in: Jordan: An Archaeological Reader (ed. R. B. Adams; Sheffield, 2008), 335–352. Bocher, E., “Pottery from the Iron Age and Persian and Hellenistic Periods,” in: Excavations in the City of David, Jerusalem (1995–2010): Areas A, J, F, H, D and L: Final Report (ed. R. Reich/E. Shukron; Ancient Jerusalem Publications I; University Park, PA, 2021), 115–134. Danielson, A. J./Burke, A. A./Peilstöcker, M./Kowalski, K./Maher, E. F., “Persian and Hellenistic Jaffa: Re-Examining Jacob Kaplan’s Excavations in Area A (1970–1974),” ANES 57 (2020): 189–257. Faust, A./Katz, H./Eyall, P., “Late Persian-Early Hellenistic Remains at Tel ʿEton,” TA 42 (2015): 103–126. Feig, N., “Tel ʿAgol: Final Report,” Hadashot Arkheologiyot 134 (2022). 33 

Zangenberg, “Sanctuary on Mount Gerizim,” 410. “Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions”; Magen/Tsfania/Misgav, Mount Gerizim 1. 34 Naveh/Magen,



The Persian Pottery from Salvage Excavations at Har Gerizim

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Freud, L., Judahite Pottery in the Transitional Phase between the Iron Age and the Persian Period: Jerusalem and Its Environs (PhD diss.; Tel Aviv, 2018). Greenberg, R./Cinamon, G., “Excavations at Rogem Gannim, Jerusalem: Installations of the Iron Age, Persian, Roman and Islamic Periods,” Atiqot 66 (2011): 79–106. Haddad, E./Tendler, A. S./Shadman, A./Torge, H./ Itach, G., “An Administrative Building from the Persian Period East of Rosh Ha-ʿAyin,” IEJ 65 (2015): 50–68. Kapitaikin, L. A., “The Pottery from the Iaa Excavations at Tel Mikhal (Tel Michal),” Atiqot 52 (2006): 21–56. Lapp, N. L., Shechem IV: The Persian-Hellenistic Pottery of Shechem/Tell Balâṭah (ASOR Archaeological Reports 11; Boston, 2008). – (ed.), The Excavations of ʿIraq Al-Amir, Vol. 2 (ASOR 74; Boston, 2020). Lehmann, G., “Trends in the Local Pottery Development of the Late Iron Age and Persian Period in Syria and Lebanon, Ca. 700 to 300 B. C.,” BASOR 311 (1998): 7–37. –, et al., “Excavations at Tell El-Fara (South), 1998–2002,” ZDPV 134.2 (2018): 109–110. Magen, Y., “Mt. Gerizim – a Temple City,” Qadmoniot 33.2 (120) (2000): 74–118. –/ Tsfania, L./Misgav, H., “The Hebrew and Aramaic Inscriptions from Mt. Gerizim,” Qad 33.2 (120) (2000): 125–132. –, “The Dating of the First Phase of the Samaritan Temple on Mount Gerizim in Light of the Archaeological Evidence,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century BCE (ed. O. Lipschits/G. N. Knoppers/R. Albertz; Winona Lake, 2007), 157–211. –, A Temple City, Vol. 2 of Mount Gerizim Excavations (JSP 8; Jerusalem, 2008). –, “The Temple of Yhwh at Mt. Gerizim,” ErIsr 29 (2009): 277–297. –/ Bijovsky, G./ʿTzionit, Y., The Coins, Vol. 3 of Mount Gerizim Excavations (JSP 19; Jerusalem, 2021). –/ Misgav, H./Tsfania, L., The Aramaic, Hebrew and Samaritan Inscriptions, Vol. 1 of Mount Gerizim Excavations (JSP 2; Jerusalem, 2004). Mazar, A./Wachtel, I., “Ḥurvat ՙEres: A Fourth-Century BCE Fortress West of Jerusalem,” IEJ 65 (2015): 214–244. Nagorsky, A./Israeli, S., “A Persian-and Hellenistic-Period Settlement at Tel Ḥanan,” Atiqot 105 (2021): 93–145. Naveh, J./Magen, Y., “Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions of the Second-Century BCE at Mount Gerizim,” Atiqot 32 (1997): 9*–17*. Regev, D., “Appendix 2: Typology of the Persian and Hellenistic Pottery Forms at Maresha – Subterranean Complexes 70, 21, 58,” in: Maresha Excavations Final Report I: Subterranean Complexes 21, 44, 70 (ed. A. Kloner; Israel Antiquities Authority Reports 17; Jerusalem, 2003), 163–183. –, “Greeks at Idumaea: A  Late 4th Century BC Tomb,” in: The Transition from the Achaemenid to the Hellenistic Period in the Levant, Cyprus, and Cilicia: Cultural Interruption or Continuity? Symposion at Philipps-Universität Marburg, October 12–15, 2017 (ed. W. Held; Marburger Beiträge zur Archäologie 6; Marburg, 2020), 113–124. –/ Greenfeld, U., “New Finds from the Samaria-Sebaste Necropolis,” in: Studies in Honour of K. Levent Zoroğlu (ed. M. Tekocak; Festschrift Series 3; Antalya, 2013), 541–568. Shalev, Y., “The Early Persian Period Pottery,” in: Area G, Vol. 1 of The Summit of the City of David Excavations 2005–2008: Final Reports (ed. E. Mazar; Jerusalem, 2015), 203–241. Stern, E./Magen, Y., “A Pottery Group of the Persian Period from Qadum in Samaria,” BASOR 253 (1984): 9–27.

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Sussman, V., Oil-Lamps in the Holy Land: Saucer Lamps, from the Beginning to the Hellenistic Period; Collections of the Israel Antiquities Authority (BAR International Series 1598, Oxford, 2007). Tal, O., “Persian Period Remains at Rishon Le-Zion,” Salvage Excavation Reports 2 (2005): 30–37. Yannai, E., “A Salvage Excavation at Horbat Rozez,” Atiqot 62 (2010): 107–137. Zangenberg, J. K., “The Sanctuary on Mount Gerizim: Observations on the Result of 20 Years of Excavation,” in: Temple Building and Temple Cult Architecture and Cultic Paraphernalia of Temples in the Levant (2.–1. Mill. B. C. E.): Proceedings of a Conference on the Occasion of the 50th Anniversary of the Institute of Biblical Archaeology at the University of Tübingen (ed. J. Kamlah; ADPV 41; Wiesbaden, 2012), 399–418.

1 Kgs 20 and 22, a Writing by a Prophetic Narrator? A Reconsideration Dany Nocquet 1. Introduction The aim of my essay is to offer some reflections about the redactional milieu of these tales and the possible consequences for the formation of the book of Kings as part of the Deuteronomistic History. I propose a close reading of these accounts of war, bringing also some information about the history of the text as about their place at the end of the first book of Kings. Before studying 1 Kgs 20 and 22, it is necessary to remind ourselves briefly of the historical background as well as the difference between the Septuagint and Masoretic texts. The order of the war accounts is not the same in the Masoretic text and the Septuagint text. In the Septuagint, the two war accounts are not separated by Naboth’s story. It seems that the MT wanted to bind more directly the death of Ahab with his sin of idolatry and his marriage with Jezebel.1 The Septuagint text is more logical, and its Vorlage may be older.2 Historically, there is no extrabiblical evidence of a war between Israel and Aram in the early time of the monarchy of Ahab. On the contrary, the kingdoms of Aram and Israel have built a coalition as allies against Assyrian threat.3 The wars between Aram and Israel took place after the Omrides, during the Jehuide dynasty. It seems that Jehu had begun his reign as a vassal of the Damascus’ king, according to the Dan stela.4 1 

Cf. McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 40–44. On the textual question, cf. McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 18–22, 155–162, 198–202. About the place 1 Kgs 21 and the differences between MT and the LXX, that the Vorlage of the LXX is older as the one of the MT, see Schenker, Älteste Textgeschichte der Königsbücher, 86–107. 3  See the campaign of Salmanassar III against Adad ʾIdri, king of Damascus, in the year 853. 4  On the relationships between Israel and Aram under the dynasties of Omri and Jehu, cf. Liverani, La Bible et l’invention de l’histoire, 159–169 (163); Finkelstein, La Bible dévoilée, 230–231. Finkelstein, Le royaume biblique oublié, 193–222, offers an overview of the Aram supremacy over Israel at the end of the 9th century BCE. McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 43–46; Cogan, 1 Kings, 471–474; and Sweeney, I and II Kings, 239–240 develop counterarguments to place 1 Kgs 20 and 22 in the times of Ahab. 2 

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Therefore, the historical background as well as differences between the Septuagint and Masoretic texts are in some ways a witness to the fact that 1 Kgs 20 and 22 were intentionally added to the Deuteronomistic account of Ahab in the book of Kings. This raises a question: when did these additions take place? And for what purposes? Today, there is a relative consensus to consider these texts as late writings, belonging to the same level as the stories of Elijah and Elisha, based on old traditions. For Römer, these two passages were added as post-Deuteronomistic developments in the Persian period.5 In the same way, McKenzie is arguing that we have in these texts the writing of a so called “prophetic narrator,” present in 1 Kgs 20 and 22 as well as in the Elijah and Elisha traditions.6 I  am close to this redactional position, and I  would like to continue their reflection and to go a little further by asking two questions that have not really been answered yet. – Why is 1 Kgs 20:1–22 relating such a positive portrayal of king Ahab, very different from the portrayal of the Deuteronomistic History? – How to understand the consultation of Micaiah in 1 Kgs 22 recalling the Jeremiah debate between true and false prophecy in Jer 28–29? Responding to these questions, the study of 1 Kgs 20 and 22 will develop a reflection in three points. The first part tries to shed light on the relationship between king and prophet in 1 Kgs 20:1–22. Secondly, the study emphasizes the fulfilment of the prophecy concerning Ahab in 1 Kgs 22. Thirdly, the concluding remarks enlighten the significance and the issue of mentions of Samaria in 1 Kgs 20–22, and in the Elisha stories.

2.  1 Kgs 20:1–22 and the relationship between king and prophet 1 Kgs 20:1–22 is the first account of war, followed by two other war narratives, with 1 Kgs 20:23–40, where the title for deities is “gods of the mountains” (1 Kgs 20:23),7 and 1 Kgs 22:1–40. All three stories emphasize first the victory of king Ahab, and lead at the end to the violent death of the king. 1 Kgs 20:1–22 is built around the unexpected coming of an anonymous prophet:

5 

Cf. Römer, La première histoire d’Israël, 161–162. Cf. McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 37–46. 7 Jones, 1 and 2 Kings, vol. 2, 344, notes: “The rendering of ʾelohîm by the plural is surely correct, since the Syrians ascribed a number of deities to Israel in accordance with general practice.” The Gr. deliberately avoided the plurality by reading ‘a mountain-god is the god of Israel’. 6 

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1 Kgs 20:1–8 Double demand of the king of Aram, and Ahab brings together the elders of Israel   1 Kgs 20:9–12 Double answer of Ahab. Ben Hadad, angry, besieges Samaria    1 Kgs 20:13–14 Surprising arrival of an unknown prophet, organizing the resistance to the Aramean threat   1 Kgs 20:15–18 Following the advice of the prophet, Ahab comes out of Samaria with a small troop of young men. The will of the king of Aram to capture the young men 1 Kgs 20:19–22 The victory of the young men against the Arameans. Ben Hadad escapes; prophetic warning to Ahab

2.1.1  1 Kgs 20:1–8 The story of 1 Kgs 20, beginning with the siege of Samaria, describes the king of Aram as very powerful at the head of a huge coalition of kings. It is a way to stress the size of the great threat against Samaria8. The power of Aram recalls the accounts of 2 Kgs 6 and a similar situation of war with Aram and Ben-Hadad in 2 Kgs 6:24. 1 Kings 20:1

‫ְך־א ָ֗רם ָק ַב ֙ץ‬ ֲ ֶ‫ן־ה ַ ֣דד ֶמֽל‬ ֲ ‫ֶּוב‬ ‫ּוׁש ַנ֥יִ ם ֶ ֛מלֶ ְך ִא ּ֖תֹו ְו ֣סּוס ָו ָ ֑ר ֶכב ַו ַּ֗י ַﬠל‬ ְ ‫ּוׁשל ִׁׂש֨ים‬ ְ ‫ל־ח ֔ילֹו‬ ֵ ‫ת־ּכ‬ ָ ‫ֶא‬ ‫ַו ָּי ַ֙צ ֙ר ַﬠל־ ֹׁ֣ש ְמ ֔רֹון וַ ּיִ ָ ּ֖ל ֶחם ָ ּֽבּה׃‬ King Ben-hadad of Aram gathered all his army together; thirty-two kings were with him, along with horses and chariots. He marched against Samaria, laid siege to it, and attacked it.9

2 Kings 6:24

‫ְך־א ָ ֖רם‬ ֲ ֶ‫ן־ה ַ ֥דד ֶ ֽמל‬ ֲ ‫י־כן וַ ּיִ ְק ֹּ֛בץ ֶּב‬ ֵ֔ ‫ַאח ֵר‬ ֲ ‫ַוֽיְ ִה ֙י‬ ‫ל־מ ֲח ֵנ֑הּו ַו ַּ֕י ַﬠל ַוּיָ ַ֖צר ַﬠל־ׁש ְֹמ ֽרֹון׃‬ ַ ‫ת־ּכ‬ ָ ‫ֶא‬ Some time later King Ben-hadad of Aram mustered his entire army; he marched against Samaria and laid siege to it.10

In the picture of the domination of the Arameans over Israel, it is remarkable to note how this story, drawing a positive portrayal of king Ahab, is also using parallels with the stories of 2 Kgs 5, the healing of Naaman, and 2 Kgs 6, the deliverance of Samaria.11 The theme of the demand from a foreign king can be

8 Sweeney, I and II Kings, 241, notes about the thirty-two kings as allies of Ben-Hadad: “Such an obligation is typical of Ancient Near Eastern treaties”; McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 169–170, indicates that the reference to the thirty-two kings accompanying Ben-Hadad is an addition coming from the “prophetic narrator.” 9 GBL: “and came up and laid siege to Samaria, with thirty-two kings and horses and chariots they came up and laid siege to Samaria and fought against it.” Cf. McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 157. 10  The translations of the Hebrew text come from the NRSV. 11  Nocquet, “Yahwisme sans frontière” 141–154; Nocquet, “Les discours d’Élisée,” 223–234.

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compared to the royal demand of 2 Kgs 5:5–7 where the king of Aram sends a letter to the king of Israel to heal Naaman.12 And the king of Aram said, “Go then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel.” He went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. 6 He brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his leprosy.” (2 Kgs 5:5–6)

The consultation of the elders by Ahab is also a theme borrowed to the situation of Elisha living with the elders during the besieging of Samaria in 2 Kgs 6:32– 7:2.13 According to this passage, a royal messenger is sent by king Joram to Elisha sitting with the elders. And the passage describes a hard opposition and conflict between the prophet and the king.14 So he dispatched a man from his presence. Now Elisha was sitting in his house, and the elders were sitting with him. Before the messenger arrived, Elisha said to the elders, “Are you aware that this murderer has sent someone to take off my head? When the messenger comes, see that you shut the door and hold it closed against him. Is not the sound of his master’s feet behind him?” 33 While he was still speaking with them, the king came down to him and said, “This trouble is from the Lord! Why should I hope in the Lord any longer? (2 Kgs 6:32–33)

In 1 Kgs 20:2–8, listening to the demand of Ben Hadad, Ahab agrees to give his own property to the king of Aram. But, in a second instance, king Ahab is confronted to the huge demand of the king of Aram asking for total submission and dispossession of his own wealth and the one of his servants.15 In order to respond to this threat Ahab brings together the elders who advise him to refuse the demand of Ben Hadad. So, the passage puts forward the new picture of king ,16 listening to their advice: Ahab as governing with the elders, “Then the king of Israel called all the elders of the land, and said, ‘Look now! See how this man is seeking trouble; for he sent to me for my wives, my children, my silver, and my gold; and I did not refuse him.’” (v. 7). It is astonishing to read a very different picture of Ahab contrasting with his description in 1 Kgs 18 and 21, and with Rehoboam, king of Judah, son of Salomon, who has not listened the elders but the children during his talk on his sovereignty over the people of Israel, 1 Kgs 12:5–6.17 12 Jones,

1 and 2 Kings, vol. 2, 340–341. For Buis, Le livre des Rois, 205, the text is difficult: are there two messengers sent by the king? Cf. McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 342. 14  This is a common feature of the Elisha story in which the monarchy is ironically criticized. 15 Sweeney, I and II Kings, 241, interprets the submission of Ahab as an acceptance of an alliance as he does with Ethbaal of Sidon (1 Kgs 16:31). 16 GB: “all the elders.” The following list includes the daughters in the LXX. 17 Cogan, 1 Kings, 463 offers a non-positive interpretation of the summon of the elders. 13 



1 Kgs 20 and 22, a Writing by a Prophetic Narrator?

93

The links and parallels with 2 Kgs 5 and 6 are important to understand how the biblical narrator is interpreting historical events leading the reader to a particular purpose. As we will see, the stories are sharing a comparable thought about the presence, efficiency and power of the prophecy of Samaria during the times of war against the Arameans.18 2.1.2  1 Kgs 20:9–12 Ben-Hadad’s answer announcing the full destruction of Samaria with the formula: “the dust of Samaria,” , shows how the king of Aram is despising the kingdom of Israel.19 The anger of Ben Hadad: “the gods do so to me, and , is compared to the anger of Jezebel in also more,” 1 Kgs 19:2, offering a more negative picture of the royalty of Aram. Ahab’s response enhances the contrast between the immoderate pride of Ben Hadad and the wise attitude of the king of Israel, referring himself to a proverbial sentence. Ahab’s refusal can be understood as an act of resistance, but also as an act of wisdom: Ahab is as wise as Solomon.20 His answer is an act of resistance protecting the people of Israel from the domination of Aram. The heroic bravery of king Ahab is reinforced by the surprising coming of a prophet, supporting and helping the king to resist to the “great multitude” of the allies of Ben-Hadad. For the king of Aram, the defiant response of Ahab gives him the opportunity to start the siege of Samaria. The sentence “now he had been drinking with the kings in the booths” prepares the reader to the defeat of the Arameans.21 2.1.3  1 Kgs 20:13–14 The unexpected intervention of an anonymous prophet is the central action of the story.22 It is noticeable that the coming of an unknown prophet uses 18 McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 170–171, shows that “the intent (of Ben-Hadad) is to humiliate the king of Israel” and “to seek evil, i. e., to find a cause for war against Israel.” We have also to understand the elders as the “elders of Samaria” instead the “elders of the land” (MT) or “the elders of Israel” (GL). 19 Cogan, 1 Kings, 464: “Audacious hyperbole characterizes Ben-Hadad’s boast, as the advice of Ahithophel to Absalom (2 Sam 17:13 …).” 20  Already Würthwein, 1. Kön 17–2. Kön 25, 238. Cf. McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 172: “The saying might mean ‘let the person who dresses not boast like the one who undresses,’ with the Qohelet-like sense that one should not celebrate the day until one has successfully faced its challenges.” See also Buis, Le livre des Rois, 161. 21  Cf. Sweeney, I and II Kings, 242. According to McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 170, the sentence is also a late addition coming from the prophetic narrator. The same formula “in the booths” is repeated v. 16. 22 For McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 171, the arrival of an anonymous prophet in vv. 13–14 separates the action of Ben-Hadad in the old war narrative. This addition comes from the prophetic narrator.

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traditional prophetic oracles of salvation, known in the history in Israel from the books of Exodus, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Isaiah.23 1 Kgs 20:13b “Look, I will give it into your hand today”

→ Deut 2:30; Judg 4:7; 7:9 …; 2 Sam 5:19; Jer 20:4; Ezek 23:28; 25:4

“and you shall know that I am Yahweh.”

→ Exod 6:7; 10:2 …; Isa 41:17–20; 49:22–26 …; Ezek 6:10, 13 …

‫ִהנְ ִנ֨י נ ְֹתנ֤ ֹו ְביָ ְֽד ָ֙ך ַהּי֔ ֹום‬ ‫הוֽה‬ ָ ְ‫י־א ִנ֥י י‬ ֲ ‫ְויָ ַד ְﬠ ָ ּ֖ת ִ ּֽכ‬

The aim of the use of these salvation oracles is to place the account in the continuity of the salvation history of Israel from the beginnings to the Exile. The introduction of these formulas is a narrative work that “anticipates a miracle.”24 The passage emphasizes the obedience of the king of Israel to prophetic speech, following the recommendation to send a troop of young men who serve the , to fight the Arameans for the deliverance district governors, of Samaria. The undefined statue of the young men must be understood symbolically: the apparent non-military position of the young men emphasizes the miraculous result of the battle.25 A battle where the king himself is totally engaged: “Then he said, ‘Who shall begin the battle?’ He answered, ‘You’.” Surprisingly, after the divinely battle on the mount Carmel, king Ahab appears as an executive partner of divine prophetic will of Yhwh. 2.1.4  1 Kgs 20:15–18 The following narrative describes the positive outcome of the battle and corroborates the participation of Ahab in the salvation of Samaria.26 The small number of troops accentuates the miraculous and divine aspect of the victory, recalling the victory of Gideon over the Madianites with a few Israelites in Judg 7:6–8. We also find a mention of the 7000 men referring to the 7000 in Israel “all the knees which have not bowed unto Baal, and every mouth which has not kissed him” (1 Kgs 19:18).27 23  Cf. Sweeney, I and II Kings, 242. We can also argue that the surprising arrival helping the king’s attitude is also a reference to the presence/absence of Elijah in 1 Kgs 17–18. The arrival of Elijah in 1 Kgs 18 is the beginning of the reversal of the religious and climatic situation in Israel. 24 McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 172. 25  There is a discussion about the status of the “young men.” Jones, 1 and 2 Kings, vol. 2, 343, suggests that the young men could be used as “shock troops” or “commandos.” But the unique use of the term “province”, “district” in this chapter is also an indication of the late development of the text. The term medinâh appears mainly in the book of Esther (Esth 1:1, 3, 16). 26  According to McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 172, the account of the battle was revised by the prophetic narrator: “Israel’s defeat of a superior force resulted from a tactical error by the Arameans and the ineffectiveness of their chariotry in hilly terrain.” 27  Cf. Cogan, 1 Kings, 465.

1 Kgs 20 and 22, a Writing by a Prophetic Narrator?



1 Kgs 20:15

95

1 Kgs 19:18

‫ל־ּב ֵנ֥י יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֖אל ִׁש ְב ַ ֥ﬠת‬ ְ ‫ל־ה ָ ֛ﬠם ָּכ‬ ָ ‫ת־ּכ‬ ָ ‫יהם ָּפ ַ ֧קד ֶא‬ ֶ֗ ‫ַאח ֵר‬ ֲ ‫ל־ה ִּב ְר ַּ֗כיִ ם ְו‬ ְ ‫ְו ִה ְׁש‬ ַ ‫ַאר ִ ּ֥תי ְביִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֖אל ִׁש ְב ַﬠ֣ת ֲאלָ ִ ֑פים ָּכ‬ ‫ֲאלָ ִ ֽפים‬ ‫א־כ ְרﬠ ּ֙ו לַ ַּ֔ב ַﬠל‬ ֽ ָ ׂ ‫ֲא ֶ ׁ֤שר ֽל‬ And after them he mustered all the people, even all the children of Israel, being seven thousand.

Yet will I leave me seven thousand in Israel, all the knees which have not bowed to Baal.

So, the positive portrayal of Ahab is astonishing and very different and contrasting with the royal representation known from the Elijah story, where Ahab is depicted in an unworthy and very negative way, describing his disobedience and unloyalty regarding Yahweh. As we will see, this contrast underlines that 1 Kgs 20:1–22 is a further development of the Elijah story.28 2.1.5  1 Kgs 20:19–22 The last verses of 1 Kgs 20:19–22 describe the complete victory of the army of Ahab with the end of the battle and the escape of the king of Aram: “The king of Israel went out, attacked the horses and chariots, and defeated the Arameans with a great slaughter” (v. 21).29 The v. 22 as a prophetic warning for Ahad, not to fall as prey in the hand of the Arameans, prepares the end of the story in 1 Kgs 20:23–43 and 1 Kgs 22.30 The end of v. 21 describing the battle as “a , is used in Josh 10:10, 20, when Joshua defeats the great slaughter,” kings of Amorites. The same formula is also used in Judg 11:33, when Jephthah smites the children of Ammon; and in 1 Sam 19:8; 23:5, where David fights the Philistines31. These parallels recount astonishingly how Ahab could have been a “great” king. The contrast between the two images of Ahab in 1 Kgs 17–18 and 1 Kgs 20 leads to understand 1 Kgs 20 not only as a post-Deuteronomistic writing, but also as a non-Deuteronomistic writing. The aim of this surprising portrayal is not to legitimate Ahab, but to highlight the greatness and the efficiency of the northern prophetic voice in Samaria, also in times of great faithlessness toward Yahweh seen at the origin of the monarchic History of Northern Israel.

28 

As McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 168–172, has demonstrated. 1 Kings, 465, maintains the translation “attacked the horses and the chariots” against the LXX GB: “captured.” 30  In these two texts, the reader finds a more classical portrayal of Ahab, as a bad and treacherous king. The transformation of the figure of Ahab illustrates the strength of the prophecy for a good or a bad issue. 31 Buis, Le livre des Rois, 161. Cf. McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 172: “Israel’s defeat of a superior force resulted from a tactical error by the Arameans and the ineffectiveness of their chariotry in hilly terrain.” 29 Cogan,

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So, introducing a positive picture of Ahab in the continuity of the Elijah story, 1 Kgs 20:1–22 slightly modifies the image of northern Israel in the Deuteronomistic History, as we will also see in 1 Kgs 22.

3.  1 Kgs 22:1–40 and the fulfilment of the prophecy concerning Ahab (par. 2 Chr 12): some remarks In this chapter, we only have a look at the first part of the chapter in 1 Kgs 22:1– 40,32 and we make a few remarks on this account of war and its parallels.33 The text has the following structure: 1 Kgs 22:1–9 1 Kgs 22:10–14 1 Kgs 22:15–23 1 Kgs 22:24–28 1 Kgs 22:29–40

Meeting between Ahab and Jehoshaphat for the battle of RamothGilead, call for a single prophet of Yahweh Prophetic unanimity to sustain the king in his plan to wage war against the Arameans and to take back Ramoth-Gilead Consulting of Yahweh through Micaiah and double answer of the prophet to the king The prophet Micaiah is put in jail by king Ahab. Last prophecy of Micaiah about the death of Ahab Accomplishing prophecy of Micaiah and death of the king at the battle at Ramoth-Gilead. Chronicles of his reign

As in 1 Kgs 20, it is remarkable how 1 Kgs 22 borrows a lot of themes from the Elijah and Elisha stories, retelling a new account for another purpose. 3.1.1  1 Kgs 22:1–9 After a three years’ time of peace with the Arameans, the coming of the king of Judah, Jehoshaphat, to the king of Israel introduced a discussion about the reconquest of the town of Ramoth-Gilead which is in the hands of the Arameans.34 The name of Ramoth-Gilead recalls the war of Israel in 2 Kgs 9 and the conspiracy and the “coup” of Jehu. Historically, as we have already noticed, there 32  The verses in 1 Kgs 22:41–54 are royal annals on the reigns of Jehoshaphat, king of Judah, and Ahaziah, king of Israel. 33  In the LXX, this chapter directly follows 1 Kgs 20. About the history of this account and the identification of the king of Israel, see Jones, 1 and 2 Kings, vol. 2, 360–362. Ramoth is identified as Tell er-Ramith, 60 km north of Amman. For Finkelstein, Le royaume biblique oublié, 165–167, the identification is not obvious, but the site plays a significant role in the conflict between Aram and Israel. Buis, Le livre des Rois, 171, also sets the conquest of Ramoth by the Arameans after the reign of Ahab. Sweeney, I and II Kings, 256, suggests that the context of this war could be the reign of Ahab. 34  In the MT, the king of Israel has no name. The LXX GB and GL have “to Ahab, king of Israel.”

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is a transposition of this battle to the time of Ahab.35 But in 1 Kgs 22:1–40, the battle of Ramoth-Gilead is not the main issue of the text. Telling of the encounter between the king of Judah and the king of Israel, the text points out the unity of the two kingdoms and their good cooperation to lead the war against the Arameans: “I am as you are; my people are your people, my horses are your horses,” said Jehoshaphat (v. 4).36 The unity of Israel and Judah is clearly described also as a religious unity under Yhwh with the demand of Jehoshaphat to consult their God. The passage emphasizes the presence of a prophetic movement in Samaria with the assembly of the four hundred prophets. This assembly hints at the gathering of the prophets of Baal by the same king Ahab in 1 Kgs 18:19.37 1 Kgs 18:19

1 Kgs 22:6

Now therefore have all Israel assemble for me at Mount Carmel, with the four hundred fifty prophets of Baal and the four hundred prophets of Asherah, who eat at Jezebel’s table.

Then the king of Israel gathered the prophets together, about four hundred of them, and said to them, “Shall I go to battle against Ramoth-gilead, or shall I refrain?”38

‫ַאר ַּב֣ﬠ ֵמ ֣אֹות‬ ‫ל־ה֣ר‬ ַ ‫ת־ּכל־יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֖אל ֶא‬ ָ ‫ְו ַﬠ ָּ֗תה ְׁש ֨ ַלח ְק ֹ֥בץ ֵא ַל֛י ֶא‬ ְ ‫יאים֮ ְּכ‬ ִ ‫ת־הּנְ ִב‬ ַ ‫ַוּיִ ְק ֹּ֨בץ ֶֽמ ֶלְך־יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֥אל ֶ ֽא‬ ‫ַאר ַּב֧ﬠ ֵמ ֣אֹות ַו ֲח ִמ ֗ ִּׁשים‬ ְ ‫יאי ַה ַ ּ֜ב ַﬠל‬ ֨ ֵ ‫ל־ר ֹ֥מת ּגִ לְ ָﬠ֛ד לַ ִּמלְ ָח ָ ֖מה ַה ַּכ ְר ֶ ֑מל ְו ֶאת־נְ ִב‬ ָ ‫אמר ֲאלֵ ֶ֗הם ַה ֵא ֵ֞לְך ַﬠ‬ ֶ ‫ׁש ַו ֣ ֹּי‬ ֒ ‫ִאי‬ ‫ַאר ַּב֣ﬠ ֵמ ֔אֹות א ְֹכ ֵ ֖לי ֻׁשלְ ַ ֥חן ִא ָיז ֶֽבל׃‬ ְ ‫יאי ָה ֲֽא ֵׁש ָר ֙ה‬ ֤ ֵ ‫ּונְ ִב‬ ‫ם־א ְח ָ ּ֑דל‬ ֶ ‫ִא‬

This parallel raises already the skepticism of the reader; Jehoshaphat is also becoming suspicious and questioning the unanimity of the prophets, their submission, and their indebted attitude to the king. Therefore, the righteous and pious Jehoshaphat is asking for another prophet. The answer of Ahab: “There is still one other by whom we may inquire of the Lord, Micaiah son of Imlah;39 but I hate him, for he never prophesies anything favorable about me, but only disaster,” testifies that there is the presence of an independent prophecy from the royal power in the kingdom of Israel. So, the question of the king of Judah as the answer of the king of Israel bear also witness to and make known the presence of a truly prophetic activity of Yahweh in Samaria. The opposition between Micaiah and the king of Israel illustrates the authenticity of the prophecy and the divine presence in the country despite the ambiguous monarchy. The conflict 35 

Cf. Cogan, I Kings, 498, who plaids for the historicity of this account. The beginning of the verse may be secondary. 2 Chr 18:4 has a neat chiasm, McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 198. Idem, 203, suggests that Ahab is using Jehoshaphat’s visit to launch an assault on Ramoth: “He is aware of the threat hanging over his head because he antagonized YHWH (20:42).” 37  The same comparison in Jones, 1 and 2  Kings, vol. 2, 364; McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 203; Cogan, I Kings, 490. 38  The divine name by the 400 prophets is not mentioned, the goal was maybe to avoid reminding the prophets of Baal of 1 Kgs 18. At the end of the verse, 2 Chr 18:5 has Elohîm instead of Yhwh. 39  The name Micaiah means “who is like Yhwh?” 36 

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between the royal house and the prophet is clear with the sentence of Ahab: “I . The use of the verb “to hate,” hardening the relationships hate him,” between Ahab and Micaiah, reminds us of the opposition between Elijah and Ahab in 1 Kgs 17–18. The passage shows a deliberate parallel with Elijah’s story.40 So, one of the aims of this paragraph is to make sure that the prophecy of Yahweh is shared and founded in the North as well as in the South, as the following verses illustrate. 3.1.2  1 Kgs 22:10–14 In these verses, the four hundred men prophesying and gesticulating and led by Zedekiah, are urging the king to make war against the Arameans in Ramoth. But, in this passage, there is a big difference with 1 Kgs 18: the four hundred prophets are described as prophets speaking in the name of Yahweh. The other difference is the name of Zedekiah, son of Chenaanah, as representative and leading prophet of the four hundred: “Zedekiah son of Chenaanah made for himself horns of iron, and he said: ‘Thus says the Lord: With these41 you shall gore the Arameans until they are destroyed’” (v. 11). He is presented as a direct opponent of Micaiah, son of Imlah. The gesture of Zedekiah with horns of iron, ‫ ַק ְר ֵנ֣י ַב ְר ֶז֑ל‬, enticing the king to fight and defeat Aram, can be a reference to the “yoke of iron” on the neck of Jeremiah in his conflict with the prophet Hananiah, foreseeing the fall of Babylon (Jer 27–28).42 The opposition Zedekiah/Micaiah is comparable to the conflict between Hananiah and Jeremiah as expressed in Jer 28:13. Jer 28:13 Go, tell Hananiah, Thus says the Lord: You have broken wooden bars only to forge iron bars in place of them! 

‫ל־חנַ נְ ָ֜יה לֵ א ֹ֗מר‬ ֲ ‫ָאמ ְר ָּ֨ת ֶא‬ ַ ‫ָהלֹוְך֩ ְו‬ ‫הוה מֹו ֹ֥טת ֵ ֖ﬠץ ָׁש ָ ֑ב ְר ָּת‬ ֔ ָ ְ‫ָאמ֣ר י‬ ַ ‫֚ ֹּכה‬ ‫יהן מ ֹ֥טֹות ַּב ְר ֶזֽל׃‬ ֖ ֶ ‫ית ַת ְח ֵּת‬ ָ ‫ְו ָﬠ ִ ׂ֥ש‬

The name of Zedekiah is the only occurrence of this name for a prophet, but this name is the one of the last king of Judah, Zedekiah. The use of this name corroborates the link with Jer 27–28 where the conflict between Hananiah and Jeremiah takes places before king Zedekiah. Thus 1 Kgs 22 is written using the 40 McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 203, also shows the proximity with Elijah, and emphasizes the contrast between the two kings and between the prophetic group and the solitary prophet. 41 GBL add “horns.” 2 Chr 18:10 follows the MT. 42  For the horns as symbol of strength, and the link with Jeremiah’s story and his yoke of iron, cf. McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 204; Jones, 1 and 2 Kings, vol. 2, 364. Cogan, I Kings, 490–491, describes the symbolism of horn as symbol of might and power in the Ancient Near East.

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prophetic model of Jeremiah.43 This passage also accentuates the unanimity of the prophets (one word) against the solitary Micaiah. Breaking prophetic unity in 1 Kgs 20, Micaiah is comparable with the lonely Jeremiah as well as Elijah, also significantly using the same sentence: ‫( הָ֕והְי־יַח‬1 Kgs 17:1; 18:15).44 Micaiah is also presenting himself as Yhwh’s prophet, as Jeremiah does,45 saying only the divine wording: “As the Lord lives, whatever the Lord says to me, that I will speak.”46 Thus Micaiah, bringing together Elijah and Jeremiah, demonstrates the strength of the northern prophecy and the presence of a true prophet. 3.1.3  1 Kgs 22:15–23 During the confrontation with Micaiah, king Ahab asks the same question as he does before the four hundred prophets.47 The allusion to the situation of Jeremiah confronting Hananiah is still well illustrated with the consulting of Yahweh. Micaiah gives two answers comparable to the answers of Jeremiah to Hananiah. The first one corroborates the prophecy of the four hundred men provoking the anger of king Ahab asking for “the truth in the name of Yahweh” (v. 16).48 Then Micaiah gives a second answer that pertains specifically to the prophetic role of Jeremiah “sent for the truth” in Jer 26:15.49 For the reader, the two answers are already an indication to differentiate between a human wording and divine speech. The two answers let the reader know that the speech from the four hundred prophets does not come from Yahweh. The end of these verses corroborates this statement by two means. First, Micaiah makes a critical remark on the monarchy of Israel with the metaphor of “a herd without shepherd,”50 (v. 17), talking about the royal power of Ahab and illustrating the hostility between the king and Micaiah, and already the misuse of the monarchy.51 This recalls the prophetic speech of Jeremiah (Jer 23) and the one of Ezekiel (Ezek 34) about the mistrust of Yhwh to the kings of Israel and Judah as bad shepherds. Micaiah’s wording set him in the continuity of the critical prophecy against the perverted kingship. Secondly, the description 43 McKenzie,

1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 214. The formula is particularly in use for Elisha in 2 Kgs 2:2, 4, 6; 5:16, and in the prophet Jeremiah: Jer 4:2; 5:2; 12:16; 16:14, 15; 23:7, 8; 38:16. 45  The sentence “the Lord says to me” is mainly used in Jeremiah. 46 GBL has: “those things I will speak.” Cf. Jones, 1 and 2 Kings, vol. 2, 364. 47  In v. 15, the LXX is using the singular in the question of Ahab repeated to Micaiah, the MT has the plural: “should we go…” Ahab seeks to include the king of Judah in the war. 48 GBL has the shorter reading: “tell me the truth.” MT uses a double negation. 49 See also Jer 23,28; 42:5. Cf. Jones, 1 and 2 Kings, vol. 2, 364. McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–​ 2 Kings 16, 205, develops some parallels with the missions of Jeremiah and Ezekiel. 50  The formula is used in 2 Chr 18:16, and in Num 27:17 for the nomination of Joshua as leader of the Israelites with the priest Eleazar. 51  Cf Cogan, I Kings, 491–92. 44 

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of Yahweh “sitting on his throne, , and all the host of heaven standing by him on his right hand and on his left” is an astonishing description of Yhwh. This picture of God is clearly a reference to the prophets where Yhwh is presented on his throne as in Isa 6:1. This image, mainly used for a human king,52 though here the sentence is for Yahweh surrounded by “all the host of heaven,” reminds of the supremacy of Yahweh in Deut 4:19, giving the sun, the moon, and the host of heaven as celestial bodies to worship for the nations. In the Deuteronomistic History, the host of heaven are described as other deities threatening worship and faithfulness to Yahweh alone.53 So, the situation clearly presupposes a universal and cosmic supremacy of Yahweh, and reminds the reader of the situation of Yhwh in the prologue of Job. All these details are marking this passage as a late post-Deuteronomistic writing. Nevertheless, the ַ ‫֣ר‬ prophet will continue to address Ahab and to warn him about a lying spirit, ‫ּוח‬ ‫ ֔ ֶׁש ֶקר‬, (spirit of falsehood) at work in the mouth of the four hundred prophets.54 If the sentence “lying spirit” is unique in 1 Kgs 22:22, the theme about “lying” is also very common in Jeremiah.55 And 1 Kgs 22:21–23 reminds of Jer 27:14–16 and 28:15. Do not listen to the words of the prophets who are telling you not to serve the king of Babylon, for they are prophesying a lie to you. 15 I have not sent them, says the Lord, but they are prophesying falsely in my name, with the result that I will drive you out and you will perish, you and the prophets who are prophesying to you. 16 Then I spoke to the priests and to all this people, saying, Thus says the Lord: Do not listen to the words of your prophets who are prophesying to you, saying: “The vessels of the Lord’s house will soon be brought back from Babylon,” for they are prophesying a lie to you. (Jer 27:14–16) And the prophet Jeremiah said to the prophet Hananiah, “Listen, Hananiah, the Lord has not sent you, and you made this people trust in a lie.” (Jer 28:15)

So, the confrontation of Micaiah with the king and the royal prophets is very similar to the one of Jeremiah against Hananiah before the king Zedekiah, even if the situation can also recall the confrontation between Ahab and Elijah in 1 Kgs 18:17–46.56 But the account of 2 Kgs 22 presupposes more the story of Jeremiah and his confrontation with Hananiah as a model. So, with these references, 1 Kgs 22:1–40 brings to light Micaiah as a “northern” Jeremiah, enhancing the importance of the prophecy in Samaria. The purpose of 1 Kgs 22 is to show that the prophecy of Samaria is as significant as the prophecy in Judah. 52 

Exod 11:5; 12:29; 1 Kgs 1:13, 17, 24, 30, 35, 48; 2:19; 3:6; 2 Kgs 13:13. Deut 17:3; 2 Kgs 21:3, 5; 23:4–5; Isa 34:4; Jer 8:2; 19:13; 2 Chr 18:18; 33:3, 5. 54 In GBL Yhwh is the subject of the verb pth “entice, to be simple, deceive.” Jer 20:7; Hos 2:16. 55  The use of the term šqr is very frequent in Jeremiah (37 times) particularly in Jer 27–29. Schmidt, Das Buch Jeremia: Kapitel 21–52, 94; Chauty, Qui aura sa vie comme butin, 274–276. 56  Cf. Nocquet, Le livret noir de Baal, 97–112. 53 

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3.1.4  1 Kgs 22:24–28 This paragraph develops the opposition to Micaiah and his lonely situation against the prophets and the king: “Then Zedekiah son of Chenaanah came up to Micaiah, slapped him on the cheek, and said, ‘Which way did the spirit of the Lord pass from me to speak to you?’” (v. 24).57 The violence of the prophet Zedekiah slapping Micaiah, and his irony as well as the following imprisonment of Micaiah by Ahab is also a way to recall the situation of Jeremiah accused by his family and put in custody in Jer 38–39.58 But these acts of violence against Micaiah are an opportunity to show the veracity of the prophetic word. The ultimate prophecy of the coming death of Ahab during the battle of RamothGilead will testify to Micaiah’s being a true prophet. The paragraph is preparing the end of the story. 3.1.5  1 Kgs 22:29–4059 The story of the end of the king of Israel begins with the treachery of Ahab disguising himself: “The king of Israel said to Jehoshaphat: ‘I will disguise myself and go into battle, but you wear your robes.’ So the king of Israel disguised himself and went into battle.” (v. 30)60 Then the tale of Ahab’s death is close to the story of 2 Kgs 8:28–9:28 borrowing the theme of the king wounded by an arrow as he stands in his chariot. The presentation of his death is similar to Joram’s death (2 Kgs 9:22).61 The death of the king illustrates the futility of his trying to escape the prophecy of Micaiah, and a link is established with the fulfillment of Elijah’s prophecy in 1 Kgs 21:19.62 The violent death of Ahab contrasts with the end of the story telling a peaceful death: “So Ahab slept with his ancestors; and his son Ahaziah succeeded him” (v. 40).63 Such a contrast is deliberately written to build a more negative image of Ahab. So, the main aim of the scribal development of 1 Kgs 22:1–40 is not first constructed to explain the death of Ahab as a punishment, but 1 Kgs 22:1–40 is built according to the exilic problematic about false and true prophecy following Jer 27–28. This theme of false and true proph57 GL has:

“Which way did Yhwh’s spirit pass by me to speak for you?” Cf. Cogan, 1 Kings, 493. 59  1 Kgs 22:29–31 belongs to the older story according to McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 210–211: The theme of the “bread of affliction and water of affliction” could refer to Isa 30:20 which is a salvation oracle for Zion. 60 GBL uses the first-person suffix: “my robes” reinforcing the big treachery of king Ahab. 61 Sweeney, I  and II Kings, 255–256, “suggests that the Joram’s wounds may provide the basis for the account of Ahab’s death.” McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 212, notes the similarities with 2 Kgs 8:28–9:28. 62  See also Cogan, I Kings, 495 and the fulfillment of the prophecy of 1 Kgs 21:19. 63  For Sweeney, I and II Kings, 255: “Such a portrayal of Ahab serves the interests of the house of Jehu in the early eight century, and the portrayal of northern sin would be adapted to serve the interests of Hezekian, Josian and exilic editions.” 58 

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ecy is an alien theme to the Deuteronomistic History.64 Even if the death of Ahab as punishment of Yhwh is theologically in accordance with a Deuteronomistic thought, the main aim of the story is not to depreciate the northern king of Israel, but to make sure of the presence of a true prophet in the old times of king Ahab. In this purpose, 1 Kgs 22 partakes in the same aim as 1 Kgs 20, and can be read in its continuity, enhancing the significance of the prophecy of Samaria. Thus, these developments are partially the fruit of a late narrator, as McKenzie has demonstrated.65 So, it is possible to ask: who are the redactors interested to enhance the greatness of the prophecy of Samaria after the exile?

4.  Concluding remarks: The issue of mentions of Samaria in 1 Kgs 20, 22 and in the Elisha stories These concluding remarks are the opportunity to begin to enlarge our understanding of these war accounts and to explore if the main purpose of 1 Kgs 20:1– 22 and 22:1–40 is shared by other texts where the main place is focusing on Samaria, as town or country. As we have shown, it is surprising to read the development of a positive portrayal of the king of Israel in the very negative picture of Ahab in the Deuteronomistic History of 1 Kgs 16–18 and 21. In the continuity of Elijah’s cycle, the two tales share a similar goal: to bring to light the veracity and authenticity of the Yahwistic prophecy in the northern kingdom even in the times of the great faithlessness of the monarchy under Ahab. The scribal development of these two tales in the end of Ahab’s reign is written to make sure that there was always a true prophecy at work despite the opposition of the king and despite prophecies of falsehood. The prophet Micaiah summarizes together Elijah and Jeremiah. Thus, as late stories of the postexilic times, the main aim of 1 Kgs 20 and 22 is an apology for Samaria, telling of the continuity and the success of its Yahwistic prophecy since the beginnings of the monarchy of Israel, and during the controversial reign of Ahab. This apologetic literature is also to be found in the tales of Elisha that take place in Samaria.66 The two preceding paragraphs have shown how one of the main purposes of 1 Kgs 20 and 22 was to convince the reader of the powerfulness, efficiency, and truth of the prophecy of Yhwh in Samaria. Closed to these texts, the Elisha accounts of 2 Kgs 5–7 seem to be also centered 64  In the Deuteronomistic History, the main opposition is between Yhwh and the other foreign gods and their prophets or followers. 65 McKenzie, 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16, 209–215. 66  It is remarkable that the mentions of Samaria are mainly to be found in the Deuteronomistic chronicles for the reigns of the Israelite kings, they also have a significant place in the war accounts of 1 Kgs 20 and 22 and in the tales of Elisha. Samaria is an abundantly quoted place in the book of Kings: 19 times in 1 Kgs, 49 times in 2 Kgs. The mentions of Samaria are comparable to the quotation of Jerusalem: 29 times in 1 Kgs and 63 times in 2 Kgs.

1 Kgs 20 and 22, a Writing by a Prophetic Narrator?



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on the same issue. In 2 Kgs 5 Elisha is the central figure of the narrative as prophet of Samaria, and his prophetic activity is shared with the simple people such as the young girl, slave of Naaman, the young men, servants of Naaman, and Naaman himself, giving an international dimension to the narrative and opening up a new access to Yahweh for a foreign nation.67 2 Kgs 6 is also telling of the divine protection of the prophet Elisha and of his city delivered by the divine army. This story has to be read as a miraculous salvation of Samaria, comparable to the salvation of Jerusalem in 2 Kgs 18–19.68 In the same way, 2 Kgs 7 shows the strength of Elisha in Samaria, who has foreseen the unexpected und divine deliverance of the city. So, Samaria appears not only as the political and idolatrous capital of the northern kingdom opposed to Jerusalem, but also as a great religious Yahwistic center and as a famous place for a powerful prophet as Elisha. The question is then: how to explain in postexilic times this choice to underline the greatness of Samarian prophecy? The position describing 1 Kgs 20 and 22 in their final stage only as a post-Deuteronomistic writing from a prophetic narrator could be reconsidered and precisely defined as an account coming from the Samarian community in postexilic times.69 In this context, 1 Kgs 20 and 22 are a late development complementing the Judean-oriented Deuteronomistic History. So, we may understand that behind the prophetic narrator in the postDeuteronomistic writings, we have mainly a Samarian narrator at work in the Deuteronomistic History in the books of Kings. These two texts of 1 Kgs 20:1–22 and 22:1–40 can be regarded as textual evidence of the vitality and significance of the Samarian community and its scribal efficiency during the Persian period. Correcting, nuancing without contradicting the Deuteronomistic History, the Samarian community is sharing a very close Yahwistic theology and faith.70

Bibliography Buis, P., Le livre des Rois (SB; Paris, 1997). Chauty, E., Qui aura sa vie comme butin? Échos narratifs et révélation dans la lecture des oracles personnels de Jérémie (BZAW 519; Berlin, 2020). Cogan, M., 1 Kings (AB 10; New York, 2001). Fine, S. (ed.), The Samaritans: A Biblical People (Leiden, 2022). Finkelstein, I., Le royaume biblique oublié (Collection du Collège de France; Paris, 2013).

67 

Nocquet, “Yahwisme sans frontière,” 141–154. Nocquet, “Les discours d’Élisée,” 223–234. 69  About the Samarian community and the diaspora after the exile, Hensel, “Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: State of the Field,” 1–44. 70  As homage to the Samaritan studies with the beautiful book of Fine, The Samaritans: A Biblical People, I am also grateful to contribute a little to a better understanding of the place and significance of the Samaritan community in history and in the Old Testament. 68 

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–/ Silberman, N. A., La Bible dévoilée: Les nouvelles révélations de l’archéologie (translation of The Bible Unearthed) (Paris, 2002). Hensel, B., “Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: State of the Field, Desiderata, and Research Perspectives in a Necessary Debate on the Formative Period of Judaism(s),” in: Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: Tracing Perspectives of Group Identity from Judah, Samaria, and the Diaspora in Biblical Traditions (ed. B. Hensel/D. Nocquet/B. Adamczewski; FAT II/120, Tübingen, 2020), 1–44. –/ Nocquet, D./Adamczewski, B. (ed.), Yahwistic Diversity and the Hebrew Bible: Tracing Perspectives of Group Identity from Judah, Samaria, and the Diaspora in Biblical Traditions (FAT II/120; Tübingen, 2020). Jones, G., 1 and 2 Kings, Vol. 2 (NCBC; Grand Rapids/London, 1984). Liverani, M., La Bible et l’invention de l’histoire (Folio histoire; Paris, 2003 and 2007). McKenzie, S., 1 Kings 16–2 Kings 16 (IECOT; Stuttgart, 2019). Nocquet, D., “Yahwisme sans frontière et Israël sans territoire à l’époque perse? Une lecture de 2R,” Transeu 50 (2018): 141–154. –, “Les discours d’Élisée et du roi dans la délivrance de Samarie (2 R 6,24–7,20)” in: La contribution du discours à la caractérisation des personnages bibliques: Neuvième colloque international du RRENAB, Louvain-la-Neuve, 31 mai  – 2 juin 2018 (ed. A. Wénin; BETL 311; Leuven, 2020), 223–234. –, Le livret noir de Baal: La polémique contre le dieu Baal dans la Bible hébraïque et l’ancien Israël (Actes et Recherches; Genève, 2004). Robker, J. M., The Jehu Revolution: A Royal Tradition of the Northern Kingdom and Its Ramifications (BZAW 435; Berlin, 2012). Römer, T., La première histoire d’Israël: L’école deutéronomiste à l’œuvre (translation of The So-Called Deuteronomistic History) (MdB 56; Genève, 2007). Schenker, A., Älteste Textgeschichte der Königsbücher: Die hebräische Vorlage der ursprünglichen Septuaginta als älteste Textform der Königsbücher (OBO 199; Fribourg, 2004). Schmidt, W. H., Das Buch Jeremia: Kapitel 21–52 (ATD 21; Göttingen, 2013). Würthwein, E., 1. Kön 17–2. Kön 25, Vol. 2 of Die Bücher der Könige (ATD 11/2; Göttingen, 1984).

The Attitude towards the Northerners in the Book of Chronicles Magnar Kartveit 1. Introduction The topic of this article is the attitude in Chronicles towards the contemporary inhabitants of Samaria, who most likely were what we call “Samaritans.”1 I will propose that one of the major topics in this attitude was the idea of a purified land, a land purged of idols and altars that were unacceptable to the cultic circles in Jerusalem. This topic has not received the attention it deserves. Before I enter into the discussion of relevant texts, I want to review what scholars hold on the question of Chronicles’ attitude to the Northerners. In his Ezra Studies of 1910, Charles C. Torrey assumes that “the Chronicler’s great task was to establish the supreme authority of the Jerusalem cultus, in all its details.”2 The work was undertaken with “the Samaritans and other rivals” in view.3 In his thinking, the complete work of the Chronicler included the books of Ezra and Nehemiah, and Torrey’s dating of this work was 250 BCE.4 Martin Noth follows the same line in 1943: “In developing his special interest in the legitimate kingdom and the legitimate cult, Chr.’s attention to the cult inevitably turned him against the Samaritan cult community.”5 Noth also treats Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah as one work, and he dates it to 300–200 BCE.6 The purpose of the book of Chronicles has been variously described in scholarship, but often the ideas of Otto Eissfeldt have been followed: 1  The article is a much-reworked version of the presentation at the EABS Conference in August 2021. Walter Houston has corrected my English, for which I am very grateful. 2 Torrey, Ezra Studies, 208 (emphasis his). 3 Torrey, Ezra Studies, 209. 4 Torrey, Chronicler’s History of Israel, xv. 5 Noth, Chronicler’s History, 105. 6  “This would then bring us to a date around 300 b. c. as a terminus a quo for Chr.; and I am not aware of any counter-argument that would positively favour setting it earlier. On the contrary: should anyone wish to date Chr. even later, there would be no arguments with which to refute him. I grant that it would hardly be advisable to date Chr. significantly later than about 200 b. c. […] For the additions however, and in particular for the numerous supplements to the genealogies, which cannot here be treated in detail, the Maccabean period should be seriously considered. It was at that time that there was a renewed interest in the twelve tribes of Israel as a whole” (Noth, Chronicler’s History, 73).

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The purpose of this complete presentation [Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah] is to prove that in opposition to the ungodly northern state only the southern state of Judah, with its Davidic dynasty and its Jerusalem Temple, is the legitimate carrier as true Israel of the divine rule realized in the kingdom of David, and that only the fellowship of the Jews who had returned from exile faithfully keeps and carries further this tradition, not, for instance, the religious community of the Samaritans which was emerging at the time of the Chronist.7

A fourth voice of this persuasion is Manfred Oeming.8 He concentrates on 1 Chr 1–9 and concludes, So, the genealogies in late Old Testament times, in an Israel without its own state and under foreign supremacy, serve the self-definition and self-assurance of Israel. They witness to an enormous self-confidence of the Jerusalem temple community, in particular its cultic personnel. In the struggle, first and foremost with the Samaritans, but also with other early apocalyptic groups, this ʽpartyʼ exclusively claims for itself the title ʽIsraelʼ: we – and only we, we who descend from these ancestors, we who cling to Jerusalem, to David, to the temple and its institutions, we who live in this country, we who have this history with God and his promises, we alone rightfully claim the title ʽIsraelʼ, for we are ʽthe true Israelʼ!9

A different line of thought is represented by Sara Japhet. She thinks that Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah constitute two different works, and that the Chronicler did not consider the Samaritans a separate community. The inhabitants of Samaria were, along with the ‘resident aliens,’ descendants of the Israelite tribes, the Judeans’ brothers and an organic part of the people of Israel. We may say that the Chronicler calls for an end to tension and hatred between segments of the people and summons all Israel to unite in worshipping Yhwh in Jerusalem.10

7  Author’s translation of “Das Ziel dieser Gesamtdarstellung aber ist der Nachweis, dass im Gegensatz zum gottlosen Nordstaat nur der Südstaat Juda mit seiner Davidischen Dynastie und seinem Jerusalemischen Tempel als das wahre Israel der legitime Träger der im Reiche Davids verwirklichten Gottesherrschaft ist und dass allein die Gemeinschaft der aus dem Exil zurückgekehrten Juden, nicht etwa die zur Zeit des Chronisten in der Entstehung begriffene Religionsgemeinschaft der Samaritaner, diese Tradition treulich aufrechterhält und fortsetzt” (Eissfeldt, Einleitung, 721). 8 Oeming, Das wahre Israel. 9  Author’s translation of “So dienen die Genealogien in der alttestamentlichen Spätzeit, in einem Israel ohne eigenen Staat und unter fremder Obrigkeit, der Selbstdefinition und Selbstvergewisserung Israels. Sie bezeugen ein enormes Selbstbewußtsein der Jerusalemer Tempelgemeinde, besonders ihres Kultpersonals. Im Streit vor allem mit den Samaritanern, aber auch mit frühapokalyptischen Gruppen beansprucht diese ‘Partei’ den Titel ‘Israel’ exklusiv für sich: Wir  – und nur wir  –, die wir von diesen Stammvätern herkommen, die wir uns fest zu Jerusalem, zu David, zum Tempel und seinen Institutionen halten, die wir dieses Land bewohnen, die wir diese Geschichte mit Gott und seine Verheißungen haben, wir allein beanspruchen den Titel ‘Israel’ mit Recht, denn wir sind ‘das wahre Israel’!” (Oeming, Das wahre Israel, 218). 10 Japhet, Ideology (1989), 334; Japhet, Ideology (2009), 261.



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As a consequence, the book of Chronicles is certainly contemporary with the Samaritans.11 The book is aware of the various “others” out there, but defines them as belonging to Jerusalem, even if they are not conscious of it themselves: they are segments of the same people and invited “to unite in worshipping Yhwh in Jerusalem.” A middle way on this question was presented by Hugh G. M. Williamson in 1977, when he stated that the Chronicler “not only suggests that all the twelve tribes are an integral part of Israel, but also shows that there is nothing to prevent the practical outworking of these conclusions in the community of his day.”12 In 1991 he appealed to studies of (modern) ecumenism, and suggested that in the presentation of the temple, the Chronicler’s concern is “to link it back by physical ties of unbroken continuity with institutions or settings of far earlier days, before the division of the monarchical period, let alone his own much later time, had surfaced.”13 The date of Chronicles is set “at some point within the fourth century b. c.”14 After all, the twelve tribes have the same origin and roots, they are, in essence, of one kind, and nothing hinders a manifestation of this unity. In 1971 Roddy L. Braun published an article with the enticing title: “The Message of Chronicles: Rally ’Round the Temple.” In a short phrase he captured a leading idea in Chronicles: the temple in Jerusalem is at the center. “[…] the Chronicler continued to think of the inhabitants of the North who recognized the legitimacy of the Jerusalem temple as his brothers. These he invited and encouraged to come to participate in the Jerusalem cult.”15 The common point in these very different theories is that the temple in Jerusalem is the center of thought in Chronicles, and that the Northerners should accommodate to this center and not practice a cult outside of that center. The disagreement between these scholars consists in the understanding of how this may be achieved: through direct or indirect criticism of the North, or through an invitation to the Northerners to come and worship in Jerusalem, or through a manifestation of a unity that existed. A glance at the overall structure of the book of Chronicles will clarify to what extent the book is concentrated on the temple: 1 Chr 1–9: From Adam to the temple personnel; 1 Chr 10–29: David prepares the construction of the temple; 2 Chr 1–9: Solomon builds the temple; 11  Japhet does not date Chronicles, but only says that “the Chronistic position on the subject could only be possible at a time when, although tension between the two communities existed, they were not completely separate and there was yet some hope of unification” (Japhet, Ideology [1989], 334 n. 245). 12 Williamson, Israel, 139. 13  Williamson, “Temple,” 19; reprinted in: idem, Studies in Persian History, 153. 14 Williamson, Israel, 86. 15  Braun, “Message,” 510.

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2 Chr 10–36: The southern kingdom, ending in temple destruction and the Persian commission to rebuild it. R. L. Braun’s catchy phrase “Rally ’Round the Temple” condenses into one expression a leading idea of the book. After the theories mentioned above were launched, new material has emerged in the form of reports from the more recent excavations on Mount Gerizim and publication of the inscriptions found there. New light is cast on the book of Chronicles from this material.

2.  The Evidence from Mount Gerizim Common to scholars is to date the book of Chronicles to the Hellenistic period. At this time, there was a sanctuary on the top of Mount Gerizim, perhaps even a temple. Sacrifices were made there, as witnessed to by more than three hundred thousand burnt bones uncovered by the excavators.16 This means that a living cult outside of Jerusalem and inside the territory of the twelve tribes existed when the book of Chronicles came into being. As one of the outcomes of the excavations, 395 Hebrew, Aramaic, and Samaritan inscriptions from the site have been published.17 389 of them are dated to the first half of the second century BCE, and are therefore later than the book of Chronicles, but one can assume that they reflect the situation on the mountain also in earlier times.18 This assumption is strengthened by their vocabulary and contents, which overlap with the vocabulary and contents of Chronicles. Mount Gerizim inscription no. 150 mentions “the Lord” and a “sanctuary”: ]… ‫[ אשר ה]קריב יוספ [בנ‬That which] Yosef [son of PN] offered ‫[ [ﬠל אש]תו וﬠל בניו‬for] his [wi]fe and for his sons ‫[ לפני א]דני במקדש‬before the Lo]rd in the temple.19

A more general translation of ‫ מקדש‬would be “sanctuary”; the existence of a holy place on Mount Gerizim is in any case indicated in this inscription. The use of the term ‫ מקדש‬is evocative. It is not used for the temple in Jerusalem in the Deuteronomistic literature of the Hebrew Bible, but occurs several times in Chronicles. In 1 Chr 22:19 David speaks of “the sanctuary of the Lord,” and in 2 Chr 28:10 he mentions “a house for the sanctuary” (my translation) to be built by Solomon. The prayer of Jehoshaphat in 2 Chr 20:8 refers to the building of “the sanctuary for your name” as the basis for turning to the Lord for help 16 Magen,

Temple City, 160–162. Magen et al., Aramaic, Hebrew. 18 Dušek, Inscriptions, 26, 37. 19  Publication and translation of the inscription in Magen et al., Aramaic, Hebrew, 141. 17 

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against enemies. Similarly, 2 Chr 26:18 describes how the high priest Azariah and the priests order King Uzziah to leave the sanctuary where he has offered incense. As part of his reforms, King Hezekiah sacrifices for the kingdom, and for the sanctuary, and for Judah (2 Chr 29:21), and in his message to all Israel and Judah he invites them to submit to the Lord and come to the His sanctuary which he consecrated (‫ ) ִה ְק ִּדיׁש‬forever (2 Chr 30:8). The Lord brings the king of the Chaldeans upon the people, who kill their youth by the sword in “the house of their sanctuary” (2 Chr 36:17, my translation). All these instances are without parallels in the book of Kings, and the use of ‫ מקדש‬in Chronicles is conspicuous. Chronicles claims the sanctuary of the Lord for Jerusalem, and Gerizim inscription no. 150 claims to have the sanctuary of the Lord (‫)א]דני‬. Both texts carry an edge against the other place, by asserting that their own sanctuary is the correct place for the Lord, YHWH. Mount Gerizim inscription no. 199 is taken to testify to sacrifices of bulls in the house of sacrifice. …]○ …[ ‫ ○]… ופרינ כל‬and bulls in all [… …[ ‫ … דב]ח בבית דבחא‬sacrific]ed in the “house of sacrifice” [… …[‫’]… …]א\זנה מהו\רדא‬/znh mhw/rd’[…20

Line 3 is by the editors judged not to be clear, and they attempt understandings like “… in] this [place …]” and “personal thanksgiving offering.”21 The first two lines are, however, clear enough to warrant the proposed reading. The phrase ‫בית דבחא‬, “house of sacrifice,” in no. 199 is compared to 2 Chr 7:12 by Christophe Nihan and Hervé Gonzalez, and to the phrase ‫בית מדבחא‬, “altarhouse,” in the memorandum from Bagohi and Delaiah to Elephantine in 407 BCE.22 According to them, the centralization command in Deuteronomy was by Chronicles applied to the temple in Jerusalem, and the phrase “house of sacrifice” in 2 Chr 7:12 seems to be directed against the Gerizim sanctuary in a “cultic annexation.” In the Elephantine “altar-house,” no sacrifices were to take place, only grain offerings and incense, but on Mount Gerizim bulls were sacrificed. The text in Chronicles reads as follows: ‫ת־ּת ִפ ָּל ֶתָך ָּוב ַח ְר ִּתי ַּב ָּמקֹום ַהּזֶ ה ִלי ְל ֵבית זָ ַבח‬ ְ ‫“( ָׁש ַמ ְﬠ ִּתי ֶא‬The LORD appeared to Solomon at night and said to him, ‘I have heard your prayer and have chosen this site as My House of sacrifice’”, 2 Chr 7:12 NJPS). The Vorlage here reads: “The LORD said to him, ‘I have heard the prayer and the supplication which you have offered ) which you have built to Me. I consecrate this House ( and I set My name there forever. My eyes and My heart shall ever be there’” (1 Kgs 8:3 NJPS). The differences between 1 Kgs 8:3 and 2 Chr 7:12 are striking. 20 

Magen et al., Aramaic, Hebrew, 171. Magen et al., Aramaic, Hebrew, 172. 22  Nihan/Gonzalez, “Competing Attitudes,” 94–100. 21 

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The openings are similar, but the following text is quite different. Nihan and Gonzalez emphasize that 2 Chr 7:12bβγ reflects the centralization command in Deuteronomy (“[I] have chosen this site”) and introduces a unique expression: “house of sacrifice.” This expression is a hapax legomenon in the Hebrew Bible, but is found in Mount Gerizim inscription no. 199 and in the memorandum from Bagohi and Delaiah to Elephantine – two broadly contemporaneous texts. Chronicles here uses an expression which the worshipers on Mount Gerizim also use, and emphatically states that the “house of sacrifice” is in Jerusalem, chosen by the Lord. The Tendenz against Mount Gerizim is palpable. The Chronicler’s use of the term ‫ מקדש‬and the rhetoric of 2 Chr 7:12 thus reveal the attitude of the book of Chronicles to the North, which means the cult on Mount Gerizim. The Samaritans had their own “house of sacrifice” and a sanctuary, but this was not the one appointed by God, according to Chronicles. Only the Jerusalem temple was God’s “chosen place” as “a house of sacrifice,” and as a sanctuary, ‫מקדש‬. What consequences of this attitude were drawn by the authors of the book? This is where the question of the pure land enters the discussion.

3.  The Pure Land Second Chronicles 34 describes the purification of the land by King Josiah. The chapter is composed of quotations from 2 Kgs 22–23, plus new material, Sondergut. The quotations are in many cases changed, and the resultant text presents a picture of the reforms which is very different from that of 2 Kgs 22–23. Second Kings 22–23 presents the following sequence of events: introduction, discovery of the book of the Torah, consultation with the prophetess Huldah, covenant renewal, reforms in the South, reforms in the North, centralized Passover, additional reforms, evaluation of Josiah, Yahweh’s persistent anger, and Josiah’s death and burial. All events up to and including the Passover take place in the eighteenth year of Josiah’s reign, when he is twenty-six years old. The sequence in 2 Chr 34–35 is different: introduction, purging of Jerusalem and Judah, purging of the former northern kingdom, repair of the temple, discovery of the book of the Torah, consultation with the prophetess Huldah, covenant renewal, elimination of foreign cults, centralized Passover, and Josiah’s death. Whereas the discovery of the book of the Torah starts off the reforms according to Second Kings, Josiah’s piety sets the reforms in motion according to Chronicles, and the book of the Torah is found in the course of the reforms. In Chronicles, Josiah begins to seek Yahweh when he is sixteen years old, in the eighth year of his rule, and when he reaches the age of maturity, twenty years, in the twelfth year of his reign, he begins to purge the land. In his eighteenth year, he starts to repair the temple, and the book of the Torah is found. His cultic



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reforms stretch over a period of ten years, and cover more or less his whole reign. These reforms constitute the main project of his kingship. Josiah emerges as a pious man in Chronicles, a king whose piety results in the reforms and who is rewarded with the discovery of the book of the Torah. Here is how the opening of 2 Chr 34 describes the events: In the eighth year of his reign, while he was still young, he began to seek the God of his father David, and in the twelfth year he began to purge (‫ ) ֵה ֵחל ְל ַט ֵהר‬Judah and Jerusalem of the shrines, the sacred posts, the idols, and the molten images (‫ַה ָּבמֹות ְו ָה ֲא ֵׁש ִרים ְו ַה ְּפ ִס ִלים‬ ‫) ְו ַה ַּמ ֵּסכֹות‬. At his bidding (‫) ְל ָפנָ יו‬, they demolished the altars of the Baals (‫) ִמזְ ְּבחֹות ַה ְּב ָﬠ ִלים‬, and he had the incense stands (‫ ) ַה ַח ָּמנִ ים‬above them cut down; he smashed the sacred posts, the idols, and the images ( ), ground them into dust, and strewed it onto the graves of those who had sacrificed to them. He burned the bones of priests on their altars and purged (‫ ) ַויְ ַט ֵהר‬Judah and Jerusalem. In the towns of Manasseh and Ephraim and Simeon, as far as Naphtali, [lying] in ruins on every side, he demolished the altars and the sacred posts ( ) and smashed the idols (‫ ) ַה ַּמ ֵּסכֹות‬and ground them into dust; and he hewed down all the incense stands (‫ ) ַה ַח ָּמנִ ים‬throughout the land of Israel. Then he returned to Jerusalem. In the eighteenth year of his reign, after purging the land and the House (‫ָארץ ְו ַה ָּביִ ת‬ ֶ ‫) ְל ַט ֵהר ָה‬, he commissioned Shaphan son of Azaliah, Maaseiah the governor of the city, and Joah son of Joahaz the recorder to repair the House of the LORD his God. They came to the high priest Hilkiah and delivered to him the silver brought to the House of God, which the Levites, the guards of the threshold, had collected from Manasseh and Ephraim and from all the remnant of Israel ( ‫ )יִ ְׂש ָר ֵאל‬and from all Judah and Benjamin and the inhabitants of Jerusalem (2 Chr 34:3–9 NJPS).

The central term in our context is the verb ‫( טהר‬piel), “purge, purify,” which is a cultic term; its antonym is ‫טמא‬, “be unclean.” Both terms are often found in the laws of P, and in Ezekiel. ‫ טהר‬is used in 2 Chr 29:15–16, 18; 30:18, in addition to 2 Chr 34. In 2 Chr 29 the term is used in the section on the assignment of the Levites to undertake the purification of the temple and its parts and utensils: [T]hey sanctified themselves and came, by a command of the king concerning the LORD’s ordinances, to purify the House of the LORD (‫הוה‬ ָ ְ‫) ְל ַט ֵהר ֵּבית י‬. The priests went into the House of the LORD to purify it (‫הוה ְל ַט ֵהר‬ ָ ְ‫ימה ֵבית־י‬ ָ ִ‫) ִל ְפנ‬, and brought all the unclean things (‫ ) ַה ֻּט ְמָאה‬they found in the Temple of the LORD out into the court of the House of the LORD; [there] the Levites received them, to take them outside to Wadi Kidron. They began the sanctification on the first day of the first month; on the eighth day of the month they reached the porch of the LORD. They sanctified the House of the LORD for eight days, and on the sixteenth day of the first month they finished. Then they went into the palace of King Hezekiah and said, “We have purified (‫ ) ִט ַה ְרנּו‬the whole House of the LORD and the altar of burnt offering and all its utensils, and the table of the bread of display and all its utensils; and all the utensils that King Ahaz had befouled during his reign, when he trespassed, we have made ready and sanctified. They are standing in front of the altar of the LORD” (2 Chr 29:15–19 NJPS).

In the description of the celebration of the Passover in 2 Chr 30 the term is used for purification of people:

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For most of the people – many from Ephraim and Manasseh, Issachar and Zebulun – had not purified themselves (‫) ִה ֶּט ָהרּו‬, yet they ate the paschal sacrifice in violation of what was written. Hezekiah prayed for them, saying, “The good LORD will provide atonement for everyone who set his mind on worshiping God, the LORD God of his fathers, even if he is not purified for the sanctuary ( ).” The LORD heard Hezekiah and healed the people (2 Chr 30:18–20 NJPS).

The people from the North needed purification in order to participate in the Passover in Jerusalem. The consequences of this situation are drawn by King Josiah according to 2 Chr 34: the whole land needs purification. It seems that “purifying” the temple and cultic objects as mentioned in 2 Chr 29:15–16, 18 has been studied by scholars, but “purifying the land,” Judah, and Jerusalem in 2 Chr 34 has not received enough attention in scholarship.23 This term is also found in Ezekiel 39. The Ezekiel text reads: On that day I will assign to Gog a burial site there in Israel – the Valley of the Travelers, east of the Sea. It shall block the path of travelers, for there Gog and all his multitude will be buried. It shall be called the Valley of Gog’s Multitude. The House of Israel shall spend seven months burying them, in order to cleanse the land (‫ָארץ‬ ֶ ‫ת־ה‬ ָ ‫ ;) ְל ַמ ַﬠן ַט ֵהר ֶא‬all the people of the land shall bury them. The day I manifest My glory shall bring renown to them – declares the Lord GOD. And they shall appoint men to serve permanently, to traverse the land and bury any invaders who remain above ground ( ), in order to cleanse it (‫) ְל ַט ֲה ָרּה‬. The search shall go on for a period of seven months. As those who traverse the country make their rounds, any one of them who sees a human bone shall erect a marker beside it, until the buriers have interred them in the Valley of Gog’s Multitude. There shall also be a city named Multitude. And thus the land shall be cleansed ( ) (Ezek 39:11–16 NJPS).

Here, burying the dead will purge or cleanse the land. In 2 Chr 34 grinding the cultic objects and strewing the dust on the graves of their worshipers, plus burning the bones of their priests on their altars purify the land. The reforms in Second Kings entail burning of human bones on the altar, which makes it unclean: As for the altar in Bethel [and] the shrine made by Jeroboam son of Nebat who caused Israel to sin – that altar, too, and the shrine as well, he tore down. He burned down the shrine and beat it to dust, and he burned the sacred post. Josiah turned and saw the graves that were there on the hill; and he had the bones taken out of the graves and burned on the altar. Thus he defiled it ( ), in fulfillment of the word of the LORD foretold by the man of God who foretold these happenings (2 Kgs 23:15–16 NJPS).

The purge as described in 2 Chr 34 follows up the description in 2 Kgs 23, but strengthens it by stating that the bones of the priests were burned on their altars, not only bones of unidentified people. The grinding of the cultic objects into dust is also taken over in 2 Chr 34, but here the dust is used on the graves of their worshipers. Important is the change in the assessment of the reforms from 23 

Maass, “‫ טהר‬ṭhr rein sein”; Ringgren, “‫ ָט ַהר‬ṭāhar.”



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2 Kgs 23 to 2 Chr 34. The burning of human bones on the altar according to 2 Kgs 23 defiles it. In 2 Chr 34 the same action secures purification of the land (2 Chr 34:5). The account in 2 Chr 34 is more specific, uses elements from its Vorlage, and strengthens them. According to the Chronicler, the purge of Judah, Jerusalem, Manasseh, Ephraim, and Simeon, as far as Naphtali, is followed up by economic support for the temple in Jerusalem. This support is collected from the same tribes, and from the “remnant of Israel.” Together, this amounts to a model of what the Chronicler thinks it takes for the Northerners to be a part of Israel or “true Israel”: a complete removal of all cultic objects in the area and economic support for the temple in Jerusalem. In a summary of the previous description, the last verse of 2 Chr 34 ֵ ‫ ) ַה‬from the whole territory states: “Josiah removed all the abominations (‫ּתֹוﬠבֹות‬ ) and obliged all who were in Israel of the Israelites ( ַ ‫ ) ָּכ‬to worship the LORD their God. Throughout his reign they (‫ל־הּנִ ְמ ָצא ְּביִ ְׂש ָר ֵאל‬ did not deviate from following the LORD God of their fathers” (2  Chr  34:33 NJPS). The description of Josiah’s purification of the land in 2 Chr 34 no doubt provides a model for later action, for instance at the time of the composition of the book. Whereas Hezekiah was occupied with purification of the temple in Jerusalem, Josiah took more comprehensive measures by purifying the whole land. Where Hezekiah was concerned with the purity of the Passover participants, Josiah removed all the abominations that caused the impurity, and secured economic support of the Jerusalem temple also from the Northerners.

4.  Second Chronicles 36: The Land Pays Back Its Sabbaths The idea of a purified land is also found in the ending of the book of Chronicles. The reason for the attack on Jerusalem and the temple is not, as in 2 Kgs 21:10– 15; 24:3, the previous sins of Manasseh, but contemporary sins. “All the officers of the priests and the people committed many trespasses, following all the abominable practices (‫ )ּת ֲֹﬠבֹות‬of the nations. They polluted the House of the LORD ( ), which He had consecrated (‫ ) ִה ְק ִּדיׁש‬in Jerusalem” (2 Chr 36:14 NJPS). Against this background, in a peculiar twist in the description of the exile, the Chronicler says that the burning of the temple and the destruction of Jerusalem happened “in fulfillment of the word of the LORD spoken by Jeremiah, until the land paid back its sabbaths; as long as it lay desolate it kept sabbath, till seventy years were completed” (2 Chr 36:21 NJPS). This verse has a peculiar syntax in Hebrew, and striking parallels in other texts. The first phrase is paralleled in the subsequent verse: ‫הוה ְּב ִפי יִ ְר ְמיָ הּו‬ ָ ְ‫“( ְל ַמּלֹאות ְּד ַבר־י‬in fulfillment of the word of the LORD spoken by Jeremiah”: 2 Chr 36:21 NJPS);

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‫הוה ְּב ִפי יִ ְר ְמיָ הּו‬ ָ ְ‫“( ִל ְכלֹות ְּד ַבר־י‬when the word of the LORD spoken by Jeremiah was fulfilled”:

2 Chr 36:22 NJPS).

The verbs are different in the two cases, but the phrases are doublets and reveal editorial activity in the chapter. The verb in 2 Chr 36:22 (‫ ) ִל ְכלֹות‬is the same as ָ ְ‫“( ִל ְכלֹות ְּד ַבר־י‬when the one used in the parallel phrase in Ezra 1:1: ‫הוה ִמ ִּפי יִ ְר ְמיָ ה‬ the word of the LORD spoken by Jeremiah was fulfilled”). This can be understood if one assumes that 2 Chr 36:22 is older than 2 Chr 36:21, and 2 Chr 36:21 is an insertion. ֵ ‫ְּובנֵ י ְר‬ This literary device can be seen also in 1 Chr 5:1–3, where ‫אּובן‬ ‫“( ְּבכֹור־יִ ְׂש ָר ֵאל‬The sons of Reuben the first-born of Israel”: 1 Chr 5:1 NJPS) ֵ ‫( ְּבנֵ י ְר‬1 Chr 5:3). The list of Reuben’s sons in is similar to ‫אּובן ְּבכֹור יִ ְׂש ָר ֵאל‬ 1 Chr 5:3–5 follow naturally after this phrase, so the “repetition” of the phrase in 1 Chr 5:1 serves to introduce the explanation why Reuben’s birthright as firstborn was given to the sons of Joseph (1 Chr 5:1aα–2). NJPS has indicated this by enclosing 1 Chr 5:1aα–2 in parentheses. Vv. 1–2 reveal themselves as secondary in the context, with the opening phrase of v. 3 being “repeated” in v. 1. A similar situation holds for 2 Chr 36:21–22, where v. 21 reveals its secondary nature by “repeating” the relevant phrase from v. 22. The statement in v. 20: “Those who survived the sword he exiled to Babylon, and they became his and his sons’ servants till the rise of the Persian kingdom” (NJPS) has a natural sequel in v. 22: “And in the first year of King Cyrus of Persia, when the word of the LORD spoken by Jeremiah was fulfilled, the LORD roused the spirit of King Cyrus of Persia to issue a proclamation […]” (NJPS). Second Chronicles 36:21 seems to have been inserted into an existing context. This impression is strengthened when the rest of the verse is taken into account. The next phrase is (“until the land paid back its sabbaths; as long as it lay desolate it kept sabbath”, ָ ‫ת־ׁש ְּבת ֶֹת‬ ַ ‫ָארץ ֶא‬ ֶ ‫ָאז ִּת ְר ֶצה ָה‬ 2 Chr 36:21 NJPS). This is paralleled in Lev 26: ‫יה ּכֹל יְ ֵמי‬ ‫“( ֳה ַׁש ָּמה‬Then shall the land make up for its sabbath years throughout the time that it is desolate”: Lev 26:34 NJPS). Moreover, the last phrase in 2 Chr 36:21: ‫“( ְל ַמּלֹאות ִׁש ְב ִﬠים ָׁשנָ ה‬till seventy years were completed”, 2 Chr 36:21 NJPS) is paralleled in Jer 25:11–12; 29:10: ‫“( ִכ ְמלׂאות ִׁש ְב ִﬠים ָׁשנָ ה‬When the seventy years are over”, Jer 25:12 NJPS), and ‫ִּכי ְל ִפי‬ ‫“( ְמלׂאת ְל ָב ֶבל ִׁש ְב ִﬠים ָׁשנָ ה‬When Babylon’s seventy years are over”, Jer 29:10 NJPS). Second Chronicles 36:21 is thus composed of adapted quotations from the subsequent verse and from Lev 26:34, Jer 25:12, and Jer 29:10. This explains also the strange syntax of the verse. It starts with an inf. const., whose attachment to preceding text is unclear, continues with a phrase from Lev 26:34 plus a finite verb, and ends with another inf. const., which probably attaches to the preceding finite verb. The introductory inf. const. of 2 Chr 36:21 (‫ ) ְל ַמּלֹאות‬is the same as the final inf. const. (‫) ְל ַמּלֹאות‬, a situation which can be explained by taking the

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first instance as a copy of the second instance. The verb in the source for the first phrase, 2 Chr 36:22, was exchanged for the verb used in the last phrase. The secondary nature of 2 Chr 36:21 means that the end of Chronicles has received this specification of the nature of the exile: it happened because the land needed to get its sabbath rest, which had not been properly provided during the preceding period. In this way the land could be “restarted.” It was clean after the seventy years of sabbath rest, and cult could begin anew. Read together with the purification of the land as described in 2 Chr 34, this means that after the exile, when the land had been fundamentally purified, any new challenges to this status would have to be dealt with according to the model purification of the land, and the support for the temple from all tribes, which were both accomplished by King Josiah. Together with Josiah’s purge of the land of the tribes, this sets the direction for Jerusalem’s action in the Hellenistic period. The land had received its sabbaths during the exile, and was therefore ready for a new beginning. Even if this interpretation of the exile was secondary in the book of Chronicles, it followed up the idea of the pure land. Any return to a situation with “abominations” in the land would require action from Jerusalem. Josiah set the course.

5. Conclusion According to the book of Chronicles, the whole land should be ritually pure, centered around the Jerusalem temple. Josiah serves as an example for the purge of the entire land. This attitude in Chronicles is more than a criticism of the North, as Torrey, Noth, and Oeming have interpreted the book. It is also more than an invitation, as Williamson understands it, and different from the idea of an inclusion, as Japhet sees it. It is an indirect warning to the North and an indirect encouragement to Jerusalem to take action. No unclean land could be allowed to exist around the Jerusalem temple, and threats to this situation required attention and action. The sanctuary and the cult on Mount Gerizim at the time of the book of Chronicles represented one such “abomination” in the eyes of the Chronicler. This “abomination” had to be removed in order to obtain a pure land. Ralph Klein translates 2 Chr 34:6–7 in a way that makes this very clear: “And in the cities of Manasseh, Ephraim, and Simeon, and as far as Naphtali, he removed their temples all around, he broke down the altars, beat the sacred poles and the images into powder, and demolished all the chapels in all the land of Israel. Then he returned to Jerusalem.”24 24 Klein,

2 Chronicles, 498. The Hebrew text of 2 Chr 34:6 is difficult; the translation of

NJPS was quoted above in Section 3.

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Bibliography Braun, R. L., “The Message of Chronicles: Rally ‘Round the Temple,” CTM 42 (1971): 502–514. Dušek, J., Aramaic and Hebrew Inscriptions from Mt. Gerizim and Samaria between Antiochus III and Antiochus IV Epiphanes (CHANE 54; Leiden, 2012). Eissfeldt, O., Einleitung in das Alte Testament, 4th ed. (Tübingen, 1976). Japhet, S., The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and Its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ 9; Frankfurt, 1989). –, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and Its Place in Biblical Thought (Winona Lake, 2009). Klein, R., 2 Chronicles: A Commentary (Hermeneia; Minneapolis, 2012). Maass, F., “‫ טהר‬ṭhr rein sein,” THAT 1 (1978): 646–651. Magen, Y., A Temple City, Vol. 2 of Mount Gerizim Excavations (JSP 8; Jerusalem, 2008). Magen, Y., et al., The Aramaic, Hebrew and Samaritan Inscriptions, Vol. 1 of Mount Gerizim Excavations (JSP 2; Jerusalem, 2004). Nihan, C./Gonzalez, H., “Competing Attitudes toward Samaria in Chronicles and Second Zechariah,” in: The Bible, Qumran, and the Samaritans (ed. M. Kartveit/G. N. Knoppers; SJ 104/SSam 10; Berlin, 2018), 93–114. Noth, M., The Chronicler’s History (trans. H. G. M. Williamson with an introduction; JSOTSup 50; Sheffield, 1987). Oeming, M., Das wahre Israel: Die “genealogische Vorhalle” 1 Chronik 1–9 (BWANT 128; Stuttgart, 1990). Ringgren, H., “‫ ָט ַהר‬ṭāhar,” ThWAT 3 (1982): 306–315. Torrey, C. C., The Chronicler’s History of Israel: Chronicles-Ezra-Nehemiah Restored to Its Original Form (New Haven, 1954). –, Ezra Studies (Chicago, 1910). Williamson, H. G. M., Israel in the Books of Chronicles (Cambridge, 1977). –, “The Temple in the Books of Chronicles,” in: Templum Amicitiae: Essays on the Second Temple Presented to Ernst Bammel (ed. W. Horbury; JSOTSup 48; Sheffield, 1991), 15–31; repr. in: Studies in Persian History and Historiography (ed. idem; FAT 38; Tübingen, 2004), 150–161.

Othniel and the Unfaithful Concubine Two Images of the Judean Yahwism from a Northern Perspective Bartosz Adamczewski The idea of a northern (Israelite) provenance of the book of Judges, or at least some major parts of this book, has already been proposed in modern scholarship.1 This hypothesis provokes the question concerning the attitude of this northern (Israelite) set of national-heroic stories towards Judea and its socioreligious institutions, especially its Yahwistic sanctuary in Jerusalem and its political-religious leadership. In my earlier discussion of this problem, which was published in 2021 but written three years earlier, I suggested that this stance was in general strongly negative.2 However, a closer analysis of the allusive rhetoric of the pertaining fragments of the book of Judges allows for a more nuanced description of this perspective. The analysis of the internally variegated attitude towards Judean Yahwism, as seen from the northern perspective of the book of Judges, can be based on the study of two stories which are contained in it, namely, the story of Othniel (Judg 3:8–11) and the story of the unfaithful concubine (Judg 19:1–20:13c). In fact, the characters of Othniel and of the unfaithful concubine create two contrasting images of the Judean Yahwism, presented by the northern author of the book of Judges. In order to analyze the rhetorical significance of these narrative characters, the allusive features of both stories, which in two different ways illustrate the same Deuteronomic blessing for Judah (Deut 33:7), should first be explored. Subsequently, the different functions of both accounts in the hypertextual rhetoric of the book of Judges should be analyzed. Finally, the extent to which Yahwistic diversity in the Hebrew Bible can be regarded as an intentionally shaped rhetorical phenomenon should be investigated.

1  Cf., e. g., Tarazi, Historical Traditions, 71. Israel Finkelstein has argued for a North Israelite setting of the earliest layer of the heroic tales in the book of Judges and of their later pre-Deuteronomistic reworking and compilation: Finkelstein, “Major Saviors,” 432–446. 2  Adamczewski, “Roles,” 489–491.

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1.  The Book of Judges as a Sequentially Organized Reworking of Deut 32:51–34:12 The book of Judges is a very enigmatic book, a book full of riddles. My recent research on this book has shown that it is a part of a larger literary program. Together with the book of Joshua, it constitutes a sequentially organized, hypertextual, that is, highly creative reworking of the contents of the book of Deuteronomy. This fact may seem surprising because the books of Joshua and Judges at first sight seem to be two different literary works, with only some narrative continuity (cf. esp. Josh 24:29 – Judg 1:1) and thematic overlap (cf., e. g., Josh 15:13–19; Judg 1:10–15) between them. However, in reality they constitute two parts of a sequentially organized hypertextual reworking of Deuteronomy. I  have demonstrated that the book of Joshua sequentially illustrates the main part of Deuteronomy, namely, the section Deut 1:1–32:50, and the book of Judges illustrates its concluding part, namely, the section Deut 32:51–34:12.3 The detailed arguments presented in my monograph on this topic cannot be repeated here. However, even a non-specialist but attentive reader, who has ever heard of the importance of Deuteronomy for the composition of the books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings, should notice the rather evident conceptual link between the set of heroic tales concerning judges originating from various Israelite tribes (Judg 3:8–18:31) and the Deuteronomic set of sayings concerning these tribes (Deut 33:7–25). In fact, a close conceptual and linguistic analysis of these texts reveals that the set of stories concerning judges, which represent the Israelite tribes ordered from Judah in the south to Dan in the north (Judg 3:8–18:31),4 sequentially illustrates the Deuteronomic set of sayings concerning the Israelite tribes ordered from south-east to northwest (Deut 33:7–25), following the tripartite reworking of the Deuteronomic saying concerning the almost dying Reuben (Deut 33:6) in the story about the weakness of the Israelites in Judg 2:10b–3:7.5 It should be noted that similar phenomena of literary elaboration of short oracles into longer stories are also known from various other cultures (cf., e. g., the short version of the Oedipus myth in Homer’s Odyssey 11.271–280 and its long elaboration in Sophocles’s Oedipus tyrannus).

3 

See Adamczewski, Deuteronomy–Judges, 125–214. Cf. Wong, Compositional Strategy, 239–246; Baker, Hollow Men, 98. 5  See Adamczewski, Deuteronomy–Judges, 190–202. 4 



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2.  The Hypertextual Features of the Story of Othniel (Judg 3:8–11) In this set of stories concerning judges from various Israelite tribes, the opening story concerning the Judahite judge Othniel (Judg 3:8–11) quite understandably sequentially illustrates the contents of the Deuteronomic saying concerning Judah (Deut 33:7). Let us follow in detail the sequence of common ideas which are expressed in both texts.6 a)  The opening historical account of Yahweh being angry against Israel and selling them into the hand of a king of Aram-naharaim, that is, Mesopotamia, so that the sons of Israel served the Mesopotamian king for eight years (Judg 3:8), conceptually illustrates, from the northern perspective of the book of Judges, the opening Deuteronomic idea of an oracle concerning the tribe of Judah (Deut 33:7a). The particular conceptual connection between being oppressed by a king of Aram-naharaim, that is, Mesopotamia (Judg 3:8) and the tribe of Judah (Deut 33:7a) will become more evident later. b) The subsequent motif of the sons of Israel crying out to Yahweh (Judg 3:9a) conceptually illustrates the subsequent Deuteronomic idea of Moses saying to Yahweh, presumably imploring him (Deut 33:7b). It should be noted that the Deuteronomic clause, “And he said” (‫ויאמר‬: Deut 33:7b), in contrast to the simple clause “he said” (‫ )אמר‬in other oracles (Deut 33:8, 12, 13, 18, 20, 22, 23, 24), is syntagmatically connected not to the preceding clause, “And this referring to Judah” (Deut 33:7a), but to the following invocation, “Hear, o Yahweh” (Deut 33:7c). Accordingly, the addressee of this “saying” is Yahweh rather than Judah. Therefore, the common idea of crying out to Yahweh (Judg 3:9a) and vocally imploring Yahweh (Deut 33:7b) conceptually connects both texts. c)  The subsequent motif of Yahweh raising up a savior for the sons of Israel (Judg 3:9b) conceptually illustrates the subsequent Deuteronomic idea of Yahweh hearing the voice, presumably of the people (Deut 33:7c). The common idea of Yahweh positively reacting to the cry of the oppressed people, namely, by raising up for them a savior (Judg 3:9b) and by giving heed to their voice (Deut 33:7c) constitutes another conceptual link between both texts. d) The subsequent motif of the Judahite leader Othniel (Judg 3:9c) conceptually illustrates the subsequent Deuteronomic idea of the tribe of Judah (Deut 33:7c). The motif of Othniel, the son of Kenaz, Kaleb’s younger brother (Judg 3:9c), had already appeared earlier in Josh 15:17; Judg 1:13.7 Accordingly, there is no particular narrative reason for its reuse in Judg 3:8–11. However, the story concerning Othniel (Judg 3:8–11) makes particular use of the fact 6  The following study of the common ideas of Judg 3:8–11 and Deut 33:7 corrects and improves their analysis which was earlier presented in Adamczewski, Deuteronomy–Judges, 191–192. 7  Cf. Pfeiffer, “Retterbuch,” 436; Finkelstein, “Major Saviors,” 437.

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that Othniel was a leader from the southern tribe of Judah. This fact can be deduced from the earlier remarks concerning his relative Kaleb, presented as closely related to the tribe of Judah (Josh 14:6–14; 15:13–20).8 Therefore, the character of Othniel, redundantly identified again as the son of Kenaz, Kaleb’s younger brother (Judg 3:9c; cf. 1:13), by means of a synecdoche pars pro toto can illustrate the Deuteronomic remark concerning the tribe of Judah (Deut 33:7c). e)  The subsequent statement, referring to the Judahite savior: “And there was on him the spirit of Yahweh” (‫)ו* ﬠליו רוח יהוה‬, so that he judged Israel (Judg 3:10ab), alludes to a hopeful Judahite messianic prophecy of the prophet Isaiah: “And there rested on him the spirit of Yahweh” (‫)ו* ﬠליו רוח יהוה‬, so that he ruled with wisdom and understanding, counsel and might, knowledge and fear of Yahweh (Isa 11:2). This allusion to the messianic Judahite text Isa 11:2, which describes an ideal, wise ruler of Judah, who will obey Yahweh, illustrates the subsequent, hopeful Deuteronomic prediction that Yahweh will bring Judah to his people, that is, to Israel (Deut 33:7d). The author of the book of Judges reworked this vague but hopeful Deuteronomic prediction concerning the return of Judah to Israel (Deut 33:7d) into a story concerning the activity of a quasimessianic wise leader coming from the tribe of Judah and judging Israel. f )  The subsequent motif of Othniel going out to war, and Yahweh delivering Cushan-rishathaim into his hand (‫)יד‬, so that Othniel’s hand (‫ )יד‬was strong over his oppressor (Judg 3:10c–e), conceptually and linguistically illustrates the subsequent Deuteronomic idea of the hands (‫ )יד‬of Judah presumably militarily struggling for him (Deut 33:7e). In contrast to the formally similar statement concerning Midian (Judg 6:1–2), in Judg 3:10de it is the hand of the Judahite leader that is strong against his oppressor, and not vice versa. With the use of this particular pro-Judahite version of the motif of a strong hand (Judg 3:10c–e), the author of the book of Judges illustrated the Deuteronomic idea of the militarily struggling hand of Judah (Deut 33:7e). g)  Finally, the concluding motif of the land having been at rest for forty years, until the Judahite leader died (Judg 3:11), conceptually illustrates the concluding Deuteronomic idea of Yahweh being a help against Judah’s enemies (Deut 33:7f ). In contrast to the preceding statement, which highlighted the role of Othniel’s fighting hand (Judg 3:10c–e), this statement concentrates on the idea of the land being peacefully at rest for the great number of forty years, apparently without Othniel’s involvement (Judg 3:11). Moreover, in contrast to the formally similar statement concerning Midian, which highlights the idea of the life and activity of Gideon (Judg 8:28), in Judg 3:11 it is the death, so inactivity, and not the life of Othniel which is particularly referred to. All these minor modifications of the motif of prevailing over Israel’s enemies were introduced to illustrate better 8  Cf. Block, Judges, Ruth, 153–154; Webb, Judges, 161; Frolov, Judges, 48–52, 103. Cf. also, somewhat differently, Tobolowsky, “Othniel,” 210.

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the Deuteronomic idea of Yahweh himself, and not Judah, being a help against Judah’s enemies (Deut 33:7f ). It should be noted that the Isaianic prophecy alluded to in Judg 3:10ab, concerning the spirit of Yahweh being on the Judahite quasi-messianic savior (Isa 11:2), together with those of Isa 7:14–17; 9:5–6, literally refers to Ahaz’s son Hezekiah. Therefore, it is possible that the character of Othniel from Judg 3:9–11 by means of this Isaianic prophecy also alludes to the person of Hezekiah. This hypothesis is additionally supported by linguistic considerations. The meaning of the name Othni-el is unclear, but it possibly means “God is my strength.”9 Accordingly, it seems that the name of the character of Othniel also linguistically alludes to the name of Hizqi-yahu, which may be translated as “Yahweh is my strength.”10 Taken together, these two facts strongly suggest that the author of the book of Judges consciously alluded to the person of the Judahite king Hezekiah by means of the features of the literary character of the Judahite leader Othniel. In such a case, it is highly plausible that the story of the Judahite leader Othniel prevailing over a king of Mesopotamia (Judg 3:8–10) alludes to Hezekiah protecting Jerusalem against Sennacherib king of Assyria (cf. Isa 36–37).11 It should be noted that in contrast to other heroic stories from the book of Judges, which present the oppressors as located close to Israel (Moab, Ammon, Amalek, etc.), only the story of Othniel refers to an oppressor from afar, namely, from Mesopotamia.12 This fact additionally supports the hypothesis of the allusive reference of the character of the king of Mesopotamia in Judg 3:8–10 to Sennacherib king of Assyria, the historical Mesopotamian oppressor of Judah at the time of Hezekiah (cf. Isa 36–37). The name of the Mesopotamian king, namely, Cushan-rishathaim semantically points to his being “doubly wicked”13 or “twice wicked.”14 It is difficult to say what it could refer to. Maybe the name of the “doubly wicked” or “twice wicked” Cushan-rishathaim refers to Sennacherib’s well-documented attacks on the two important cities of Lachish and Jerusalem. Alternatively, it is an allusion to two Mesopotamian kings: not only Sennacherib, the oppressor of Judah, but also Sargon, the conqueror of Israel/Samaria.15 In this case, the character of the “twice wicked” Cushan-rishathaim in Judg 3:8–10 would allude to two Assyrian kings, Sargon and Sennacherib, merged into one negative character.

9 Cf.

HALOT, s. v. ‫יאל‬ ֵ ִ‫( ָﬠ ְתנ‬a). HALOT, s. v. ‫ ִחזְ ִקּיָ הּו‬.

10 Cf.

11  This hypothesis has already been discussed but ultimately rejected in Guillaume, Waiting for Josiah, 78–80. 12  Cf. Butler, Judges, 64–65. 13  Cf. Oeste, “Butchered Brothers,” 300; Sasson, Judges 1–12, 215, 219; Nelson, Judges, 57. 14 Cf. HALOT, s. v. ‫ּכּוׁשן ִר ְׁש ָﬠ ַתיִ ם‬ ַ . 15  Cf. Guillaume, Waiting for Josiah, 78–79.

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In contrast to many other heroic tales in the book of Judges, the story of Othniel (Judg 3:8–11) is very short.16 The shortness of the story concerning a Judahite leader strongly suggests that the book of Judges is not a Judean work, but an Israelite (northern) one. Moreover, in the book of Judges Othniel is related to the Edomite Debir and the Negeb (Judg 1:11–15)17 rather than to Jerusalem (Judg 1:8). Nevertheless, in Judg 3:8–11 the image of the Judahite lay leader Othniel is very positive.18 Accordingly, it can be argued that the Israelite (northern) author of the book of Judges presented lay leadership of a “savior” from Judah over all the tribes of Israel as acceptable inasmuch as it was spiritually controlled by Yahweh (cf. Isa 11:2).

3.  The Hypertextual Features of the Story of the Unfaithful Concubine (Judg 19:1–20:13c) in the Sequentially Organized Reworking of Deut 33:26a This positive image changes in another story concerning the tribe of Judah, namely, that of the unfaithful concubine (Judg 19:1–20:13c). In the sequentially organized hypertextual reworking of Deuteronomy, this story (Judg 19:1–20:13c), which follows the set of stories concerning judges representing the Israelite tribes ordered from Judah in the south to Dan in the north (Judg 3:8–18:31), illustrates the Deuteronomic utterance which follows the set of sayings concerning the Israelite tribes ordered from south-east to north-west (Deut 33:7–25), namely, the utterance concerning the God of Jesh­ urun (Deut 33:26a). The story of the unfaithful concubine illustrates the ideas of this short utterance in a sequentially ordered way. a)  The opening part of the story (Judg 19), with its motifs of there being no (‫ )אין‬king in Israel (Judg 19:1; but without the elsewhere occurring remark that everyone did what was right [‫ ]ישר‬in his eyes: Judg 17:6; 21:25),19 the concubine being unfaithful (Judg 19:2),20 there being no one (‫ )אין‬to receive the wanderer in his house (Judg 19:15, 18),21 the men of Gibeah committing an outrage (Judg 19:22–30),22 and there being no one (‫ )אין‬answering to the concubine’s husband (Judg 19:28), conceptually and linguistically illustrates the opening Deuteronomic idea of there being no one (‫)אין‬, presumably like the “upright”

16 

Cf. Fleming, Legacy of Israel, 58; Gillmayr-Bucher, “Memories Laid to Rest,” 118. Cf. Baker, Hollow Men, 108. 18  Cf. Wong, “Is There,” 105. 19  Cf. Beldman, Completion of Judges, 115. 20  Cf. Nelson, Judges, 299. 21  Cf. Schulz, Anhänge, 35. 22  Cf. Southwood, “This Man Has Come,” 476. 17 

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one (*‫ישר‬: Deut 33:26a). The common idea of there being no one upright in Israel constitutes the conceptual link between both texts. b) The subsequent motif of the sons of Israel being like (‫ )כ‬one man (Judg 20:1) conceptually and linguistically illustrates the subsequent Deuteronomic idea of being like (‫ )כ‬someone (Deut 33:26a). The link between both texts is here mainly linguistic. c)  The subsequent motif of “the [articulate] God” (‫)האלהים‬, used in the surprising formula “people of the God” (Judg 20:2), which is a hapax legomenon in the Hebrew Bible, in contrast to the elsewhere used formula concerning the people of Yahweh (Judg 5:11, 13),23 conceptually and linguistically illustrates the subsequent Deuteronomic idea “the [articulate] God” (‫אל‬: Deut 33:26a). The presence of the contracted article before the noun ‫“( אל‬God”) in Deut 33:26a (cf. Job 40:9; cf. also Num 13:13 etc.) is not visible in the consonantal Hebrew text. However, it is witnessed in the Septuagint translation (ὁ θεός: Deut 33:26 LXX; cf. Μιχαηλ in Num 13:13 LXX etc.), so many centuries before the masoretic vocalization (‫) ָּכ ֵאל‬. The resolve to rework the rare phrase from Deut 33:26a in a both conceptual and linguistic way led the author of the book of Judges to coin the surprising hapax legomenon in Judg 20:2. Such barely noticeable, somewhat surprising, atypical, intriguing literary features of a given text often result from it being in fact an imperfect reworking of an earlier text, and not an entirely freely made composition.24 In the story of the unfaithful concubine, this strange formula likewise betrays the linguistic dependence of this story on the text of Deuteronomy. d)  Finally, the concluding motif of the assembly of the Israelites commonly judging that the act of raping the concubine was an act of wickedness, an outrage, and an evil in Israel (Judg 20:3–13c) conceptually illustrates the concluding Deuteronomic idea of the “upright” Jeshurun, so Israel (Deut 33:26a).25 The common idea of the Israelites being righteous and pronouncing a just, moral and legal judgment constitutes a conceptual link between both texts. This basic pattern of sequential hypertextual reworking of Deut 33:26a in Judg 19:1–20:13c was enriched with the use of additional literary motifs. For example, it is fairly evident that the motif of a wife committing fornication,26 and her husband speaking to her heart to make her return (‫ זנה‬+ ‫ דבר* ﬠל־לבה‬+ ‫שוב‬: Judg 19:2–3) was borrowed from Hos 2:7, 9, 16.27 As will be shown below, this 23 

Cf. Butler, Judges, 441. See Adamczewski, Deuteronomy–Judges, 15–16. 25  The military motif of preparations of mighty Israelites for a battle against the stubborn Benjaminites (Judg 20:13d–17) seems to illustrate Deuteronomic military motifs contained in Deut 33:26bc. This fact was not taken into consideration in Adamczewski, Deuteronomy– Judges, 203. 26  Cf. Hamley, “What’s Wrong,” 53. 27  This fact has not been taken into due consideration in Bembry, “Levite’s Concubine,” 522, 535. 24 

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motif plays an important role in creating a distinctly Israelite perspective of the whole story Judg 19:1–20:13c.

4.  The Hypertextual Features of the Story of the Unfaithful Concubine (Judg 19:1–20:13c) in the Sequentially Organized Reworking of Deut 33:7 Another, much more important intertextual connection can be traced between the story of the unfaithful concubine (Judg 19:1–20:13c) and, once more, the saying concerning Judah (Deut 33:7). The allusive reworking of this saying again follows a sequential pattern. a)  The story of the unfaithful concubine highlights the fact that the concubine originated from Bethlehem in Judah (‫יהודה‬: Judg 19:1–2; cf. 19:18). This repeatedly appended toponym (Judg 17:7–9; 19:1–2, 18)28 is not redundant, but it differentiates this southern Bethlehem from the previously mentioned Bethlehem in Zebulun, which is simply and quite naturally called “Bethlehem” (Josh 19:15;29 Judg 12:8,10),30 a fact that betrays the northern geographical perspective of the book of Judges.31 On the other hand, this appended toponym, placed at the beginning of the story of the unfaithful concubine (Judg 19:1–2), conceptually and linguistically alludes to the opening Deuteronomic reference to Judah (‫ )יהודה‬in Deut 33:7a. b)  The subsequent, apparently redundant account of the Levite for two additional days, beyond the customary three-day-long stay as a guest (Judg 19:3– 4),32 repeatedly heeding the persuasion of the concubine’s father in Bethlehem in Judah (Judg 19:5–9), who repeatedly spoke to him (‫ויאמר‬: Judg 19:5, 6, 8, 9), conceptually and linguistically illustrates the subsequent Deuteronomic ideas of speaking (‫ )ויאמר‬to Yahweh, and Yahweh hearing the voice of Judah (Deut 33:7bc). In this account, the character of the persuading Judahite fatherin-law represents the tribe of Judah, and the cultic character of the persuaded Levite from the mountains of Ephraim represents Yahweh. The latter fact again betrays the northern perspective of the book of Judges. c)  Subsequently, the story of the unfaithful concubine repeatedly describes the acts of coming (‫ )בוא‬of the concubine: not to Jebus (Judg 19:10), but together with her husband to Gibeah in Benjamin (Judg 19:15, 17; cf. 20:4), then to an Ephraimite host (Judg 19:21–23), and finally to her Ephraimite 28 

Cf. Wong, Compositional Strategy, 239. The book of Joshua mentions no other Bethlehem than the one in Zebulun (Josh 19:15). 30  Cf. Rizzi, Giudici, 344; Moskowitz, “Judge Ibzan,” 155–157. 31  Cf. Adamczewski, Deuteronomy–Judges, 34, 199–200. This fact is difficult to explain on the assumption of Judean origin of the book of Judges; cf. Moster, “Levite,” 732 n. 9. 32  Cf. Block, Judges, Ruth, 526; Groß, Richter, 831; Schulz, Anhänge, 28. 29 



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master (Judg 19:26). These acts of coming (‫ )בוא‬of the unfaithful Judahite concubine follow a progressive pattern: from the “foreign” Jebus, to Benjamin, to an Ephraimite host, and finally, faithfully, to the Ephraimite master. With the use of this progressive pattern, describing the gradual coming of the concubine from the tribe of Judah to the representants of the tribe of Ephraim, the author of the book of Judges conceptually and linguistically illustrated the subsequent Deuteronomic idea of letting the tribe of Judah come (‫ )בוא‬to his people, that is, to Israel (Deut 33:7d), with its dominant tribe of Ephraim (cf. Deut 33:13– 17). d)  The subsequent, quite strange image of the Judahite concubine lying at the door of the house with her hands (*‫ ידי‬+ suf. pers. pron.) desperately extended on the threshold (Judg 19:27) conceptually and linguistically illustrates the subsequent Deuteronomic oracle concerning the tribe of Judah, namely, that his hands (*‫ ידי‬+ suf. pers. pron.) will contend for him (Deut 33:7e). Besides, the horrible image of the Judahite concubine in her limbs finally coming to the twelve tribes (Judg 19:29) of the people (‫ )ﬠם‬of God (Judg 20:2, 8, 10, 22, 26, 31) in a gruesome way additionally illustrates the Deuteronomic saying that Judah will come to his people (‫ﬠם‬: Deut 33:7d). e)  The concluding idea of the sons of Israel, and in fact Yahweh, as is shown with the use of a narrative progressive pattern (Judg 20:18, 23, 26–28, 35), punishing the guilty Benjaminites (Judg 19:29–20:48) conceptually illustrates the concluding Deuteronomic idea of Yahweh himself, and not Judah, being a help against Judah’s enemies (Deut 33:7f ). Accordingly, the big-scale sequentially organized hypertextual reworking of the whole book of Deuteronomy in Joshua–Judges was enriched with a smallscale sequentially arranged hypertextual reworking of Deut 33:7 in Judg 19–20. What was the purpose of this additional, intriguing, second-level reworking of the saying concerning Judah (Deut 33:7) in Judg 19–20?

5.  The Israelite Perspective on Judah in the Stories of Othniel (Judg 3:8–11) and the Unfaithful Concubine (Judg 19:1–20:13c) The fact that in the story of the unfaithful concubine (Judg 19:1–20:13c) a Judahite concubine from Bethlehem in Judah is presented as acting as a prostitute, betraying her Levitical, Ephraimite husband, and going away from him to her father’s house in, as is repeatedly stressed in the narrative, Bethlehem in Judah (Judg 19:1–2, 18) creates a very negative image of the tribe of Judah. It is quite plausible, given the overall function of the stories concerning judges representing the Israelite tribes ordered from Judah in the south to Dan in the north (Judg 3:8–18:31), that the story of the Ephraimite husband and the Judahite concubine by means of a synecdoche (pars pro toto) alludes to the

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complex relationships between the tribes of Ephraim and Judah.33 It is therefore unthinkable that this story, with such a negative portrait of Judah, would be composed in Judea. Moreover, the story of the unfaithful concubine (Judg 19:1–20:13c) refers to Jerusalem first with the totally artificial name “Jebus.”34 In no extrabiblical text is Jerusalem called “Jebus” or related to the Jebusites.35 Accordingly, this artificial name for Jerusalem is consciously related to the name of the Jebusites (cf. Josh 15:8; 18:16, 28), who were put under a ban in the book of Deuteronomy (Deut 7:1; 20:17). Such a name suggests Canaanite, so a presumably pagan identity of the city “to this day” (cf. Josh 15:63; Judg 1:21),36 that is, to the time of the implied reader of the story.37 Only later, the account mentions the city with its traditional name “Jerusalem” (Judg 19:10). Afterwards, the narrative again uses for Jerusalem the pagan name “Jebus” and then, in the following context, the descriptive, derogatory reference to “this city of the Jebusites” (Judg 19:11). Correspondingly, in the account concerning Jerusalem the Canaanite-pagan name Jebus is used three times, both at its beginning and in its middle. As a result, the reader cannot avoid the impression that the city of Jerusalem should be considered entirely pagan. This impression is further confirmed in the following, final remark concerning Jerusalem. It refers to Jerusalem as a place which should be avoided because it is “a city of foreigners, who are not of the sons of Israel” (Judg 19:12). Accordingly, the overall presentation of Jerusalem in this story is strongly negative.38 Jerusalem is described here as a Canaanite, pagan, non-Israelite city, which should be avoided by faithful Israelites. On the other hand, the fact that the Levitical-Ephraimite husband of the unfaithful Judahite concubine is presented, similarly to Yahweh in the metaphorical story of the Israelite prophet Hosea, as loving her and wanting to persuade her to come back to him by speaking tenderly to her heart (‫ זנה‬+ ‫ דבר* ﬠל־לבה‬+ ‫שוב‬: Judg 19:1–3; cf. Hos 2:7–16)39 creates a positive image of the tribe of Ephraim. This positive image is enriched in the account of an Ephraimite man receiving the troubled couple at home in a hostile Benjaminite environment (Judg 19:16– 33 

Cf. Landy, “Between Centre,” 142. Cf. Groß, Richter, 141; Schulz, Anhänge, 30; Nelson, Judges, 305. 35  Cf. Gaß, Ortsnamen, 13; Pfeiffer, “Sodomie in Gibea,” 278–279; Sasson, Judges 1–12, 139, 151. 36  A critical reader should interpret the books of Joshua–Judges in their own rhetorical terms and resist the temptation to explain them “canonically” in the light of the later, ideologically clearly pro-Judean story of David’s conquest of the “Jebusite” Jerusalem (2 Sam 5:6–8). In this respect, the hypothesis of the Deuteronomistic History, including both Joshua–Judges and Samuel–Kings as one, internally coherent work, is clearly misleading. The fact that both Joshua–Judges and Samuel–Kings are post-Deuteronomic does not imply that they are parts of the same literary work. 37  Cf. Webb, Judges, 110 n. 65. 38  Cf. Nelson, Judges, 305. 39  Cf. Frolov, Judges, 324–326. 34 

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21). These facts strongly suggest that the story of the unfaithful concubine is an Ephraimite work. Moreover, the story of the unfaithful concubine quite naturally localizes the house of Yahweh (contra Judg 19:18 LXX: the Levite’s house)40 in the remote parts of the mountains of Ephraim (Judg 19:18), so presumably in Shiloh (cf. Judg 18:31; 21:19, 21)41 or on Mount Gerizim. These facts further imply that the story of the unfaithful concubine, together with the whole book of Judges, is an Ephraimite work, and not a Judean one. As was shown above, the story of the unfaithful concubine for a second time, after the story of Othniel, sequentially reworks the contents of the Deuteronomic saying concerning the tribe of Judah, namely, that Judah spoke to Yahweh, that Yahweh will hear the voice of Judah, that Judah will come to his people, that Judah’s hands will contend for him, and that Yahweh will be a help against Judah’s enemies (Deut 33:7). However, this time the reworking of the Deuteronomic saying concerning Judah is very negative. Judah is here mainly presented as an unfaithful and later raped, so also ritually unclean, concubine of her Ephraimite Levitical husband. Only in her mutilated limbs, does she finally come to the twelve tribes of the people of God (Judg 19:29). Moreover, in this story the Judean capital Jerusalem is presented as a Canaanite, pagan, non-Israelite city, which should be avoided by faithful Israelites. It is only the concubine’s fatherin-law from Bethlehem in Judah (Judg 19:1–2, 18), so not from Jerusalem (which is probably an allusion to Mic 5:1), who bears positive features (Judg 19:3–9). What was the reason for such a drastic change in the image of Judah between the story of Othniel and the story of the unfaithful concubine, within the same book of Judges? It can be argued that the change was caused by the cultic overtones of the story of the unfaithful concubine. These cultic overtones are introduced to the story with the character of the Levite, who to some extent represents Yahweh himself, and frequents the house of Yahweh in the remote parts of the mountains of Ephraim (Judg 19:18), most likely in Shiloh or on Mount Gerizim, but avoids the city of Jerusalem (Judg 19:10–12) with its rival (from the northern perspective of the author of the book of Judges) sanctuary of Yahweh. Accordingly, it seems that the Israelite (northern) author of the book of Judges could accept Judahite political leadership over Israel, insofar as it was controlled by the Isaianic spirit of Yahweh (cf. Isa 11:2), just as it is presented in the story of Othniel (Judg 3:8–11). Moreover, he apparently also accepted Micah’s prophecy concerning a civil leader originating from Bethlehem in Judah (Mic 5:1), and consequently not from Jerusalem (Judg 19:1–9; cf. 17:7–9). In contrast to these positive references to civil, theocratic leadership from Judah,42 the Israelite author of the book of Judges utterly rejected the Judean city of Jerusalem with 40 

Cf. Edenburg, Dismembering the Whole, 81 n. 6; Nelson, Judges, 300. Cf. Knauf, Richter, 163. 42  Cf. Dziadosz, “Spirit of YHWH,” 480–482, 490 n. 58. 41 

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its rival sanctuary of Yahweh, presenting it as Canaanite, pagan, non-Israelite, and condemned as a place to be avoided (Judg 19:10–12). This very negative presentation of the rival sanctuary of Yahweh, as viewed from the northern perspective of the author of the book of Judges, results from the Deuteronomic idea of only one place of sacrificial worship of Yahweh in Israel (Deut 12:5–27; cf. Josh 22:10–34 etc.).

6. Conclusion The images of Judea and the Judean Yahwism in the book of Judges are highly variegated. The image of Judahite civil leadership, inasmuch as it is theocratic and oriented positively towards Ephraim, is here positive (Judg 3:8–11; 19:3–9). On the contrary, the image of the rival, separatist sanctuary of Yahweh in Jerusalem is here very negative (Judg 19:10–12). Correspondingly, the scholarly pursuit of a consistently positive or a consistently negative image of Judean or Israelite Yahwism in a given biblical book, in this case in the book of Judges, may be an oversimplified endeavor. We should pay much more attention to the details of carefully shaped rhetorical presentations of particular branches of Yahwism in various biblical books. As the book of Judges shows, a positive image of civil, theocratic Judahite governorship may stand in stark contrast to a negative image of the Judean separatist cult in its rival sanctuary of Yahweh. Moreover, such a nuanced presentation of Judah and the Judean Yahwism in the Israelite book of Judges may be compared, for example, with the much more consistently negative presentation of Sanballat and the northern postexilic community in the Judean book of Nehemiah. Two further observations can be made. Firstly, Yahwistic diversity in the Hebrew Bible does not simply reflect historical diversity of Yahwism in Israel (and Judea), but it is also an intentionally shaped rhetorical phenomenon, including both fierce polemic, especially between various Yahwistic cultic centers, and attempts at achieving reconciliation and peace. Secondly, Yahwistic diversity in the Hebrew Bible is related not only to various territories and territorially organized communities (Judah, Ephraim, Dan, Transjordan, etc.), but also to various kinds of socio-religious ideological claims, substantiated by recourses to Yahweh, especially political and cultic ones, within the same territorially organized community (e. g., Judah). This kind of Yahwistic diversity is later reflected, for example, in the Dead Sea Scrolls, in the images of the Messiah of Israel and the Messiah of Aaron.



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–, “Sodomie in Gibea: Der kompositionsgeschichtliche Ort von Jdc 19,” in: Die Erzväter in der biblischen Tradition: Festschrift Matthias Köckert (ed. A. C. Hagedorn/H. Pfeiffer; BZAW 400; Berlin, 2009), 267–289. Rizzi, G., Giudici: nuova versione, introduzione e commento (LBPT 7; Milano, 2012). Sasson, J. M., Judges 1–12: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AYB 6D; New Haven, 2014). Schulz, S., Die Anhänge zum Richterbuch: Eine kompositionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung von Ri 17–21 (BZAW 477; Berlin, 2016). Southwood, K., “‘This Man Has Come into My House’: Hospitality in Genesis 19; 34; and Judges 19,” BibInt 26 (2018): 469–484. Tarazi, P. N., Historical Traditions, Vol. 1 of The Old Testament: An Introduction, rev. ed. (Crestwood, 2003). Tobolowsky, A., “Othniel, David, Solomon: Additional Evidence of the Late Development of Normative Tribal Concepts in the South,” ZAW 131 (2019): 207–219. Webb, B. G., The Book of Judges (NICOT; Grand Rapids, 2012). Wong, G. T.  K.,  Compositional Strategy of the Book of Judges: An Inductive, Rhetorical Study (VTSup 111; Leiden, 2006). –, “Is There a Direct Pro-Judah Polemic in Judges?,” SJOT 19 (2005): 84–110.

The “Scroll of David” – a Samaritan Name of the Book of Samuel? 2 Sam 24 and the Text History of the Jewish Books of Samuel and Kings Wolfgang Schütte 1. A Preliminary Note The Samaritan Kitāb at-Tārīḫ of Abū l-Fatḥ incorporates texts from the Hebrew Bible and Josephus alongside older sources of Samaritan history. What can the Tārīḫ of 1355 AD say about biblical texts? In agreement with M. Karveit, the Tārīḫ will be less fruitful for the study of the Hebrew Bible than for the study of biblical reception history.1 In fact, the weight of my considerations will lie with the Jewish tradition and the textual history of the Books of Samuel and Kings. This is firstly because these works are genuinely Jewish tradition, and secondly because no older Samaritan testimonies have survived against which the statements of the Kitāb at-Tārīḫ could be tested.

2.  Religious Discussions in the Kitāb at-Tārīḫ and Jewish Legends In the Tārīḫ, Abū l-Fatḥ reports four religious discussions. In Persian times, Jews and Samaritans discussed the geographical orientation of worship, the qibla, and in Ptolemaic times2 the “correct” Greek translation of the Torah. With the Roman Caesar Commodus, it was a matter of creation-theological questions, and with Mohammed, a protective treaty for the Samaritan community within Islamic society.3 The narrative of the Letter of Aristeas (last third of the 2nd century BC) about a Greek translation of the Jewish Torah as well as Jewish Talmud traditions

1 

Thus M. Karveit in personal communication with the author. the ahistorical kings’s name Falaṭma/Falṭama, see Wedel, “Religionsgespräche,” 384–385. 3  Detailed analysis in Wedel, “Religionsgespräche.” 2 For

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about the religious discussion of a Caesar Antoninus4 with a rabbi show that Abū l-Fatḥ’s narratives have parallels (or models?) in Jewish tradition. The truth value of all these legends is difficult to establish. The Jewish Letter of Aristeas is contrasted with Abū l-Fatḥ’s narrative of a Samaritan Pentateuch in Greek. Whether there was a Greek translation of the Samaritan Torah called the “Samareitikon” in addition to the Jewish Septuagint cannot be said with certainty.5 There are traces pointing to such existing. Even less tangible in its substance is the narrative of the first religious discussion, which dealt with the most important Samaritan-Jewish religious question, the qibla. It is set before a Persian king with the ahistorical name Sūrdī, presumably referring to a Darius.6 Our historical picture of the Jewish-Samaritan relationship in Persian times does not fit this discussion – for a religious dispute, the Hellenistic period might be more accurate.7 In the Hasmonean period, literature emerged that published current issues of the Jewish community in historical garb. The Book of Esther is set in a Persian context, Judith and Daniel in Babylonian times, and Tobit in Assyrian times.8 If this literary fashion is also assumed for the legend of the first religious discussion between Samaritans and Jews, the 2nd/1st century BCE offers a plausible time frame in which the legend of the dispute on the qibla could have been formed. Abū l-Fatḥ tells that Jewish returnees gathered around Zerubbabel in Haran to assert Jerusalem’s claim to religious leadership among the Samaritans before King Sūrdī.9 Zerubbabel (cf. Hag 1:1) presented “a scroll which he maintained was the scroll of David,10 and which (he claimed) showed that David said that the threshing floor in Jerusalem was the qibla.”11

The Samaritans argued against this with verses from Deuteronomy of the “great role of the Temple in Nineveh.” In an ordeal initiated by Sūrdī, “the Books of David”12 were burned in the fire, while the Samaritan Torah scroll proved to be fireproof. The Jerusalem altar foundation by David (2 Sam 24 par. 1 Chr 21) is recounted earlier by Abū l-Fatḥ in a few words: 4 

Cf. Ginzberg, “Antoninus.” “Samareitikon”; Schenker, “Textgeschichtliches”; Joosten, “Samareitikon”; idem, “Biblical Interpretation.” 6 Stenhouse, Kitāb, 82 note 306. 7  See Hensel, Juda und Samaria. 8  The books of Ezra and Nehemiah may also ultimately be a product of the Hasmonean period; cf. Hensel, “Israeliten.” 9 Stenhouse, Kitāb, 85–93. 10  According to Vilmar’s Arabic edition of the Kitāb, we would read that the scroll should have come from David (Wedel, “Religionsgespräche,” 380). Therefore, Wedel points out that this scroll of David could not have been a Torah text. 11 Stenhouse, Kitāb, 85. 12 Stenhouse, Kitāb, 92. 5 Noja,

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“He also consecrated the threshing floor which he had bought for fifty gold shekels from Nabūī. And he likewise consecrated the cow with the cart. From that time on he made the threshing floor their qibla.”13

This narrative in the 12th chapter of the Kitāb at-Tārīḫ is embedded in a polemically distorted recapitulation of the contents of the Books of Samuel, beginning with Eli and Samuel and continuing through Saul to David’s transfer of the Ark and the consecration of the Jerusalem threshing floor of Araunah/Nabūī. This is followed by a genealogy of David that reaches through the sons of David and to stories from the narrative of 2 Sam 10–1 Kgs 2 called the “succession history” or “court history.” The statements of Abū l-Fatḥ about the first religious discussion between Samaritans and Jews before a Persian king Sūrdī can indeed only give an impulse to look again at the Jewish sources that want to establish Jerusalem as the orientation of the qibla. Abū l-Fatḥ’s account of the purchase of Nabūī’s threshing floor mentions 50 gold shekels as the purchase price. 2 Sam 24:24 mentions 50 silver shekels, whereas 1 Chr 21:25 mentions 600 gold shekels. Thus, Abū l-Fatḥ’s specification cannot be clearly assigned to either of the two narratives. Abū l-Fatḥ is not interested in literal quotations here. However, the 12th chapter of the Kitāb at-Tārīḫ speaks strongly in favour of assuming an orientation towards the narrative of the Books of Samuel. Abū l-Fatḥ speaks of a Davidic scroll of Zerubbabel that, when it is burned at the end of the story, is also called the “Books of David.” This designation recalls the two Books of Samuel that could have filled that scroll – however, the Masoretic tradition knows only one Book of Samuel; the distinction between 1 Samuel and 2 Samuel comes from the Christian tradition. Does this then point to the Books of Samuel and Kings? Why does Abū l-Fatḥ call that scroll the “scroll of David?” Although this, too, may suggest a polemic by Abū l-Fatḥ, this name is no worse than the name “Samuel” in describing the content of that work. Thus, it cannot be ruled out that “scroll of David” was also an unpolemical name for 1–2 Samuel. However, Jewish and Christian tradition associate the name David with a collection of the Psalms.14 The traditional naming of the Books of Samuel is based on rabbinic tradition (Baba Batra 14b), which may draw on a formulation in 1 Chr 29:29 (‫)דברי שמואל‬. The Kitāb at-Tārīḫ confirms that Abū l-Fatḥ had knowledge of the Masoretic Books of Samuel and Kings, including the court history (2 Sam 10–1 Kgs 2). Providing David’s genealogy only after his account of 2 Sam 24, together with a rendering of narratives from the court history, would have been an authorial decision on Abū l-Fatḥ’s part. It is too unlikely that Abū l-Fatḥ would have resorted to another Jewish composition of the material. 13 Stenhouse, 14 

Kitāb, 50. Cf. Mk 12:36 par. Mt 22:43–44 and Lk 20:42.

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At this point, my considerations leave the Kitāb at-Tārīḫ and now ask, independently of Abū l-Fatḥ’s work, about the period in which the narrative of 2 Sam 24 might have acquired the significance appropriate to its placement.

3.  The Textual Witnesses The oldest testimony of 2 Sam 24 is preserved in 4QSama/4Q51 (c. 50–25  BCE)15 with several deviations from the Masoretic Text (MT). There are no attestations of 1 Chr 21 from Qumran. The next Hebrew evidence for both texts is Codex Aleppo (c. 920 AD). The Greek tradition for 2 Sam 24/1 Chr 21 begins with Codex Vaticanus (= B; 4th century AD). Since its tradition of the majority text of the Septuagint (LXX) of 2 Sam 24 was changed by the kaige recension, the manuscripts of the Greek-Antiochene tradition (ANT) must also be taken into account, which were only subject to kaige influences during their transmission in addition to hexaplaric influences and their own textual growth.16 Extrabiblically, Josephus (Ant. 7.13) recorded his own narration of 2 Sam 24 in the 1st century AD.17

4.  The Narrative Context 2 Sam 24, within the larger context of 2 Sam 21–24, interrupts the court history, which ends with David’s transfer of kingship to Solomon (2 Sam 10–1 Kgs 2:11). Because of the interruption of the court story, marked by a Wiederaufnahme of 2 Sam 8:16–18 in 2 Sam 20:23–26,18 and the change of theme and a change of style, 2 Sam 21–24 appears to function at the end of 2 SamuelMT/LXX as a postscript to the David narrative. Most of the content of 2 Sam 21–24 is found in the plot of the David narrative of 1 Chronicles,19 which lacks the court history. While 1–2 Chronicles builds on the composition of 1 Samuel–2 Kings, both works are 15 Lange, Handbuch, 216. In addition to 2 Sam 24:16–22, 4QSama includes, among others, 2 Sam 21:1, 3–6, 8–9, 12, 15–17; 22:17, 19, 21, 24, 26–28, 30–31, 33–51; 23:1–6, 14–16, 21–22, 33–39. 16  The edition of Fernández Marcos/Busto Saiz, El Texto, is based on Bible manuscripts (after Rahlfs) 19 (11th–12th c. AD), 82 (12th c. AD), 93 (13th c. AD), 108 (13th–14th c. AD) and 127 (10th c. AD); cf. Fernández Marcos, “Text.” 17 Before Ant. 7.13, Josephus follows the narrative of 2 Samuel, but Ant. 7.14 first follows 1 Chr 22, then switches to 1 Kgs 1. 18 It is possible that the court story is not simply interrupted. The resumption of 2 Sam 8:16–18 by 2 Sam 20:23–26 could be understood as “a structural argument for the extent of the Succession Narrative” (M. Z. Brettler; cf. Simon, Identity, 320) – or did 2 Sam 21:1–14 originally follow after 2 Sam 8:18 (K. Budde; cf. Simon, Identity, 319)? 19  2 Sam 21:1–14 without parallel; 2 Sam 21:15–22 par. 1 Chr 20:4–8; 2 Sam 22 and 23:1–7 without parallel; 2 Sam 23:8–39 par. 1 Chr 11:10–47; 2 Sam 24 par. 1 Chr 21.

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more likely to be based on one or more common sources. Whatever one thinks of this alternative,20 1–2 Chronicles as a whole bears features clearly later than 1 Samuel–2 Kings. For this, particular reference should be made to the mention of the Mosaic Mitzvah or Torah in both works.21 1 Chr 21 itself also shows some traits of being a late narrative. For example, Satan appears as the tempter in 1 Chr 21:1. The figure of the supernatural messenger (“angel”) is further developed and intensified in comparison with 2 Sam 24:16, 17 (1 Chr 21:15, 16, 18, 20). 2 Sam 21–24 presents itself as a concentric composition, opening with 2 Sam 21:1–14 and closing with 2 Sam 24. In it, two other accounts of David’s outstanding fighters (2 Sam 21:15–22 and 23:8–39) enclose the Psalm of David (2 Sam 22 cf. Ps 18) and David’s last words (2 Sam 23:1–7). Although the famine because of the house of Saul’s bloodguilt from the Gibeonites (2 Sam 21) along with David’s incitement to muster Israel and Judah and its subsequent divine punishment (2 Sam 24) are very different narratives, appropriate behaviour is emphasised in each case with the concluding remark that God “allowed himself to be asked” or “was reconciled.”22 With regard to this concentric composition, I would like to mention only what is already significant at first glance in terms of textual history. David’s last words here (2 Sam 23:1–7) and David’s last words to Solomon (1 Kgs 2:1–9) “fight” with each other, so to speak. 2 Sam 23:1–7 ignores 1 Kgs 2:1–9 and is focused entirely on the Book of Samuel. Together with the preceding Psalm of David (2 Sam 22), whose position at the end of 2 Samuel corresponds with the Psalm of Hannah (1 Sam 2:1–10) at the beginning of 1 Samuel, these last words of David intend to “conclusively interpret the Samuel books in late post-exilic times.”23 In doing so, the psalmists of 2 Sam 22; 23:1–7 and 1 Sam 2:1–10 engage in “systematic theology by means of keywords.”24 But even David’s last words according to 1 Kgs 2:1–9 reach beyond the themes of the court history at least in one point.25 Thus, two literary endings for the David narratives in the Books of Samuel “fight” with each other. Unlike 2 SamuelMT/LXX , 2 SamuelANT formally ends with the court history in 2 SamANT 26:11 (= 1 KgsMT/LXX 2:11). Thus, 2 SamANT 21–24 forms an inclusio within the court history. The book separation of 2 Sam 24/1 KgsMT/LXX 1 aligns the end of the court history, David’s legacy, with the future of his monarchy in 20 

Cf. Auld, “David’s Census”; idem, “Text.” On Auld’s thesis, see Kalimi, “Source(s).” The references to a Mosaic Torah or Mitzvah in 1–2 Kings are all not original (on this see below), but they are often original in 1–2 Chronicles. 22  2 Sam 21:14; 24:25 ‫ ;ויﬠתר‬LXX ἐπήκουσεν. However, non-kaige 2 SamANT 21:14 ἐξιλάσατο, 24:25 ἵλεως ἐγένετο refers obviously to ‫( ויכפר‬cf. 1 SamLXX /ANT 6:3 and 4QSama). 23 Mathys, Dichter, 164: Sie wollen “die Samuelbücher in spätnachexilischer Zeit abschließend auslegen.” 24 Mathys, Dichter, 320: “systematische Theologie mittels Stichworten”; cf. 126–164. 25  1 Kgs 2:5 and 2 Sam 3:22–39 (Joab and Abner). 21 

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1–2 Kings, and the composition of 2 Sam 21–24 emerges as the interpretive end of the Books of Samuel.

5.  Two Endings of the Books of Samuel The double ending of the Davidic narratives requires explanation in order to clarify the textual history of 2 Sam 24. The original ending of 2 Samuel with the end of the court history and David’s death notice (1 KgsMT/LXX 2:11 = 2 SamANT 26:11) is supported by the end of 1 Samuel with Saul’s death (1 Sam 31) and the structure of 1 Chronicles, which concludes with a final note on David. The caesura after 2  SamANT 26:11 allows for 1  Kings ANT to begin with Solomon, like 2 Chronicles.26 C. Edenburg argues that the ending with 2  SamANT 26:11 is “a secondary development that was influenced by the literary convention observed in Genesis, Deuteronomy and Joshua, in which books end with the death of a hero.”27 She does not compare 2  SamANT 26:11 with the more obvious ending of 1 Samuel and 1 Chronicles. In Edenburg’s favour, it can be argued that 1 Samuel–2 Kings are divided into four parts in the Greek tradition of βιβλία τῶν βασιλειῶν. Only 1 Sam 31 and 2 Kgs 25 form “natural” book ends. The caesura of 1 Kgs 22:54/2 Kgs 1:1 cuts up the notices on Ahaziah of Israel in much the same way as the caesura of 2 Sam 24:25/1 Kgs 1:1 tears apart the court history – however, 2 Sam 21–24 represents a genuine end to 2 Samuel. Possibly technical reasons of book production speak in favour of this fourfold division.28 Until the early modern period, the Masoretic tradition knew only two works, a Book of Samuel and a Book of Kings. This is indicated by the final masorah at the end of both works. There is a small indication of the great age of this tradition. 5QKings/5Q2 (late 2nd century BCE)29 indicates that this manuscript was preceded by a “handlesheet”30 before 1 Kgs 1. If 4QSama, which here preserves only 2 Sam 24:16–22, cannot prove that this manuscript ended with 2 Sam 24:25, at least 5QKings is an argument for Edenburg that the Masoretic tradition began early with 1 Kgs 1:1MT. On the other hand, the absence of the chronological notice about David’s reign (2 Sam 5:4–5) in 4QSama and Palimp26  Of

course, the king notices in 1–2 Kings also usually begin with an indication of the beginning of the reign and end with a death notice. 27  Edenburg, “2 Sam 21–24,” 191. 28 Rahlfs, Septuagint, shows 62 pages for 1 SamuelLXX , 57 pages for 2 SamuelLXX , 69 pages for 1  KingsLXX and 59 pages for 2  KingsLXX . According to Rahlfs, 2  SamuelANT would comprise 62 pages and 1 Kings ANT only 64 pages. This speaks for a division determined by book volumes, without therefore having to say that “the book division by 1–4 Reigns is undoubtedly late” (Edenburg, “2 Sam 21–24,” 191). 29  Trebolle, “Qumran Fragments,” 24, cf. Milik, “Textes,” 172 and 169. 30  Milik, “Textes,” 171: “page de garde.”

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sestus Vindobonensis (= L 115; 5th century AD)31 and of Saul’s reign (1 Sam 13:1) in Codex Vaticanus suggests that the process of aligning the Books of Samuel and Kings was far from complete. Therefore, the court history probably only became a link between the two works in the Hellenistic period.32

6. The Kaige Recension and the Torah-Centric Theological Editing The closer narrative context and signals regarding book production offer two ways of literarily embedding 2 Sam 21–24 in the Greek tradition, while the Masoretic tradition is unanimous. For a deeper understanding of the Greek alternatives, therefore, the larger context and Greek text history of 1 Samuel–2 Kings must be consulted. According to the insights of Thackeray, Barthélemy and Shenkel, its earliest transmission through Codex Vaticanus is marked by the so-called “kaige recension,” which includes sections βγ (2 Sam 10–1 Kgs 2:11) and γδ (1 Kgs 22–2 Kgs 25).33 This process of revision can be traced back to the 1st century BCE on the basis of other manuscripts. Sections α (1 Sam), ββ (2 Sam 1–9) and γγ (1 Kgs 2:12–21:43) are considered to be revision-free or, according to Aejmelaeus and Kreuzer, revised only slightly.34 The kaige recension aligned the Greek text with a proto-Masoretic Vorlage that replaced an earlier Hebrew text. The non-kaige text for the revised sections of the Codex Vaticanus can often be raised from the Antiochene textual tradition. It is striking that the court history and 2 Sam 21–24 are congruent with kaige recension βγ. A. Schenker describes the intention of the proto-Masoretic text, which the kaige recension approximates, for the Books of Kings as follows: it aimed for greater theological coherence of the text, emphasised the political weight of the high priest and expressed a bitter rejection of the sanctuary on Mt. Gerizim.35 The intention of the original Hebrew work, represented by the so-called Old Greek to be reconstructed from the LXX and ANT, is difficult to describe, since no original text is available. However, it gives “the impression of a gradually evolving literary work.”36 To understand how the Old Greek gradually grew, I  am convinced that Palimpsestus Vindobonensis and its tradition of the Books of Kings should be consulted. The manuscript, which has only partially survived, preserves unique major textual deviations not found in the rest of the tradition. In its Old Latin 31 

Fischer, “Palimpsestus Vindobonensis.” See also Hützli, “Literary Relationship.” 33  Thackeray, “Greek Translators,” Barthélemy, Les Devanciers, Shenkel, Chronology. 34  Aejmelaeus, “Kingdom”; Kreuzer, “Älteste Septuaginta.” 35 Schenker, Textgeschichte, 179–187. 36 Schenker, Textgeschichte, 187: Es mache “den Eindruck eines allmählich gewachsenen literarischen Werkes.” 32 

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tradition, no clear traces of a kaige recension can be detected.37 It shows an expanded version of the Jehu narrative,38 the rearrangement of a pericope (2 Kgs 13:14–21 after 2  KgsL115 10:31 or vice versa in MT)39 and the special tradition of 2 KgsL11517:1–6, x, 15–19, 9, preceded by the absence of 2 Kgs 16. L 115 forces the assumption that a narrative about the Judean kings after the fall of the kingdom of Israel followed only after 2 KgsL115 17, since 2 KgsL115 17:15 speaks of the “law” (lex), while 2 KgsL115 10:31 speaks of the “way of the Lord” (via Domini) instead of the “law of God.” If Palimpsestus Vindobonensis avoids speaking of the law (lex < νόμος < ‫ )תורה‬before 2 Kgs 17, 2 KgsL115 17:15 presupposes the narrative about Josiah (2 Kgs 22–23), which makes this novel speech plausible. Correspondingly, in L 115, a narrative about Ahaz (2 Kgs 16) is expected after 2 KgsL115 17. MT/LXX and ANT show with the establishment of 2 Kgs 16 at the same time a chronological shift making Hezekiah of Judah a contemporary witness of the fall of Samaria. Conceptually, this reveals a theological interest that emphasises Hezekiah’s piety.40 However, ANT still bears traces of a theological conception for the older version of the Books of Kings. Although ANT, like the LXX/MT, tells of the Judean kings from Ahaz onwards, ANT still narrates a historical development of the monarchy, according to which the wickedness of the Israelite kings increased before culminating in Hosea and ultimately destroying the kingdom (2 Kgs ANT/ L115 17:2).41 Hosea was the worst of all Israelite kings (2  Kgs ANT/L115 17:2 et fecit male in conspectu domini super omnes qui fuerunt ante eum). Palimpsestus Vindobonensis, with its theological assessment of the Assyrian conquest of Israel in 2 KgsL115 17 and a subsequent narrative about the Judean kings from Ahaz onwards, probably documents the oldest edited textual version of the Books of Kings. The LXX/MT reinterprets the concept of the old version with its religious evaluation of the Israelite kings. Hosea was now not as bad as his predecessors (2 KgsMT/LXX 17:2). The new conception includes the Judean kings from Ahaz onwards. Their different behaviour – exemplified by Ahaz and Manasseh on the one hand and Hezekiah and Josiah on the other – is either linked to the negative example of Israelite kings or to the positive example of David, who was aware of the Mosaic Torah (2 Kgs 23:25; cf. 1 KgsLXX /MT 2:3 = 2 SamANT 26:3) and the Mosaic commandments (2 Kgs 18:5).42 If in Palimpsestus Vindobonensis the 37 

Tekoniemi, “Identifying kaige”; idem, “Lucianic stratum.” Schütte, “2 Kings 10:23–28.” In favour of an even broader Jehu narrative is the testimony of a Latin chronology (Mommsen, Monumenta, 192) according to which 2 Kgs 13:7 could also come after 2 Kgs 10:31. 39  Richelle, “Revisiting.” 40 Schenker, Textgeschichte, 167–170. 41  See Schütte, “Endeten die Königebücher.” 42  On the text-historical difference of speaking of the Mosaic mitzvah (2 KgsLXX 21:8 cf. 2 KgsL115 17:16) and the Mosaic Torah with its mitzvot, see Schütte, “miṣwah oder tôrah.” 38 

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Torah (lex) becomes present only with 2 KgsL115 17:15 and if this reference disappears together with other peculiarities of the preserved text (2 KgsL11517:1–6, x, 15–19, 9), the re-edited Books of Kings must also have marked the incorporation of the term “Torah.” All passages in the Books of Kings that refer to the Mosaic Torah before 2 Kgs 22–23 bear traces of editorial insertion.43 The tradition of Palimpsestus Vindobonensis makes it likely that this new, theological interpretation of Israelite-Judean history towards the Torah was accompanied by a major rewriting of history.44 With regard to 2 Sam 21–24, it should be noted that 1–2 Samuel does not mention the Torah of Moses – unless 1 KgsMT/LXX 2:3 is to be added to the Book of Samuel as 2 SamANT 26:3. Thus, at the end of an old Book of Samuel, 2 SamANT 26:3 could have had David pointing to the Torah as it is finally brought into light in 2 Kgs 22–23. But 1 KgsLXX /MT 2:3 could have also been the prelude to the finale of the Books of Kings. The editorial process of reorienting history towards the Torah must have taken place after 200 BCE, according to the manner of speech of Hebrew Ben Sira, and more likely after 143 BCE.45 The Torah-centric theological editing of the Books of Kings forms the core concern of the Deuteronomistic History. The Torah as a standard for measuring history is to be asserted as the basic intention against older theses by Noth and Wolff.46 This not only ties the Books of Kings back to Deuteronomy in form and content; for the first time, the overarching work from Deuteronomy to 2 Kings is formed, narrating the Jewish national history from the entrance into the Promised Land to the ostensibly complete depopulation (2 Kgs 25:21, 26). In this overarching work, cross-references are formed between the individual books. Thus, 2 Kgs 14:6 and Deut 24:16, 1 Kgs 16:34 and Josh 6:26 refer to each other.47 In 1 Kgs 16:34, Codex Vaticanus may have experienced a weak kaige recension in section γγ to introduce this back-reference.48 The dating of the kaige recension is close in time to the dating of 5QKings. The caesura of 2 Sam 24:25/1 KgsLXX /MT 1:1, through which the court history forms a context that transcends the Books of Samuel, may thus be a feature of 5QKings assigned to the kaige recension. The placement of 2 Sam 21–24 in the LXX and ANT is therefore not merely an intra-Greek problem. In the protoMasoretic editing, there is a noticeable change in the usage of the name “Israel.” 43  On

2 KgsMT/ANT 21:8; cf. 2 KgsLXX 21:8; on 2 Kgs 14:6, see Trebolle, “Kings,” 486; on 1 Kgs 2:3, see Trebolle/Torijano “Greek Recension,” 280–281. On 2 Kgs 17:13, 34, 37; 22:8, 11; 23:24, 25 and 2 KgsL115 10:31; 17:15, see Schütte, “miṣwah oder tôrah.” 44  In addition to the traditions on Jehu, special reference should also be made to the Joram traditions (2 Kgs 1:17MT, 1:18a–dLXX and 1:19ANT as well as 2 Kgs 3 and 2 Kgs 8:16–24). 45  Schütte, “miṣwah oder tôrah.” 46 Noth, Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien; Wolff, “Kerygma.” 47  See also 1 Kgs 13 and 2 Kgs 23:16–18. 48 On this, see Mäkipelto, “Integrative Approach.” Still differently Rahlfs, SeptuagintaStudien III, 264.

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In 2 Kgs 18:5, the Books of Kings include the name “Israel” in the formulation “God of Israel” for the first time in a statement about Judah and its kings.49 Previously, after the dissolution of the dual monarchy, the historiography of the Books of Kings connects the name “Israel” exclusively and historically correctly with statements about the kingdom and its capital in Samaria. However, the Masoretic tradition softens this usage in statements about Rehoboam of Judah. 1 Kgs 14:24 takes up a phrase from 2 Kgs 16:3; 17:8; 21:2 (cf. Judg 11:24) in which the Judeans are placed in the tradition of Israel’s taking possession of the land.50 The MT inserts 1 Kgs 12:17 into the tradition: “but the sons of Israel who lived in the cities of Judah – Rehoboam ruled over them.” Thus, it cannot be ruled out that apart from an extension at the end of the Books of Kings by 2 Kgs 16 and 18–25, the beginning of 1 Kings was also edited. This raises the question for the Solomon stories of whether, in their present form, they merely completed the court history as a necessary narrative link to bring the David narratives into historical continuity with the monarchical history of the states of Israel and Judah. With all this, the larger and grand text-historical contexts are outlined in which 2 Sam 24 and its placement are to be interpreted.

7.  2 Sam 24 as Reflected in the Kaige Recension If non-kaige 2 SamANT 10–26 basically speaks for an older text and for a work that ends with the court history, while 2 SamMT/LXX 24 speaks for an old, but perhaps text-historically newer end of the Books of Samuel that can probably be traced back to the 1st century BCE, then the place of 2  SamANT 24 within the context of the kaige recension must be clarified in more detail. This determination is preceded by a thesis based primarily on the Old Latin tradition of the Palimpsestus Vindobonensis. If the Torah-centric theological expansions of the Books of Samuel and Kings still included major reformulations and new formulations of the historical tradition, which are only conceivable on the basis of the Palimpsestus, then the ANT and LXX manuscripts (from whose comparison we can describe textual developments over a certain breadth) with their basically identical text inventory are already on the side of the historical revision. It found its striking Greek expression in the kaige recension and its historical completion in the Masoretic Hebrew text.51 On the other side, for the Old Greek, stands the Palimpsestus with a first Torah-centric theological change, which already leans towards the Masoretic text, but is still far removed from its final version.52 49 

Zobel, “‫ישראל‬.” “All the abominations of the nations which God cast out before the children of Israel.” 51  Cf. 2 Kgs ANT/LXX /MT 13:14–21; 16; 17 with L 115; also Schütte, “Vetus Latina.” Tekoniemi, “In Search,” 4, approaches this thesis. 52  Cf. Schütte/Schneider, “Adramelech,” 80–81. 50 

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2  ­SamANT 24 should be examined for whether or not it can verify this presupposed thesis. Proving the thesis would mean that the placement of 2 Sam 21–24 must be understood within the process of Torah-theological editing of the Book of Kings. Disproving it would remove a linkage of 2 Sam 24 with my considerations on Palimpsestus Vindobonensis and requires an independent consideration of 2 SamANT 24.

8.  Word Equivalents in the Tradition of 2 Sam 24 The textual tradition of 2 SamLXX 24, unlike 2 SamANT 24, is dominated by the kaige recension: ἐγώ ἐιμι (v. 12, 17LXX ) instead of ἐγώANT; παρεκλήθη (v. 16LXX ) instead of μετεμελήθηANT;53 ἐν ὀφθαλμοῖς (v. 22LXX ) instead of ἐνώπιονANT. It is also possible that ὑπερίσχυσεν (v. 4LXX ) instead of ἐκράτησεANT and παραβίβασον, ἐμωράνθην (v. 10LXX ) instead of περίελε, ἐματαιώθηνANT are all kaige wordings. Of particular importance is ἀνομίαν (v. 10LXX) instead of ἀδικίανANT for ‫ﬠון‬.54 In this, the kaige recension shows an awareness of the newly formed standard of the νόμος, the Mosaic Torah.55 The choice of the verb ἀδικέω in 2 SamLXX 24:17 (ἠδίκησα; 2 SamANT 24:17 ἥμαρτον) for ‫ חטאתי‬has a parallel only in Gen 42:22 and is difficult to assess. For ‫חטאתי‬, as in 2 Sam 24:10, ἥμαρτονLXX or ἡμάρτηκαANT would be expected. The verb ἀδικέω for ‫ ﬠוה‬in 2 SamLXX 19:20 also appears untouched by the changed equivalence of the noun (ἀνομίαν/‫)ﬠון‬ in the same verse. Is there a non-kaige use of ἀδικέω for ‫ ﬠוה‬in 2 SamLXX /ANT 19:20 and in 2 SamLXX 24:17? A. Rofé recognises in the verb phrase ‫( חטאתי … הﬠויתי‬v. 17MT) the formulaic expression of a confession of guilt as in Job 33:27 (and Greek in 1 Kgs 8:47ANT; DanLXX /Th 3:29/Odai 7:29; DanTh 9:1556: ἁμαρτάνω – ἀνομέω) or, formulated in plural and extended by a third element (‫)רשﬠנו‬, in 1 KgsMT 8:47 par. 2 ChrMT 6:37; Ps MT 106:6.57 In all cases Greek ἁμαρτάνω for ‫ חטא‬remains stable, while Greek witnesses to the continuation of the formula of guilt attest to different variants,58 the weighting of which argues for a non-kaige ἀδικέω (‫ )ﬠוה‬and kaige ἀνομέω (‫)ﬠוה‬. 53 

Aejmelaeus, “Kingdom,” 354–357. So also 2 Sam 19:20 and 2 Kgs 7:9, cf. non-kaige 2 Sam 3:34; 7:10. 55 Cf. the new wording νόμος (/Hebrew?) and (ἐν προφητείᾳ/‫ )]בנבוא[ה‬+ ἐξαλεῖψαι ἀνομίαν λαοῦ in the praise of Samuel (SirLXX 46:14, 20). 56 DanLXX 9:15 ἁμαρτάνω – ἀγνοέω. 57  Rofé, “4QSama,” 116. 58  1 Kgs 8:47B*/ANT attests to ἀδικέω (‫)ﬠוה‬ – ἀνομέω (‫)רשﬠ‬. A correction of a later hand by Bab in ἀνομέω (‫)ﬠוה‬ – ἀδικέω (‫ )רשﬠ‬indicates a hexaplaric correction like Codex Alexandrinus and generally 1 KgsLXX 8:47 and also PsLXX 105:6. 2 ChrLXX 6:37; DanTh 9:5 also attest to 54 

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2 SamMT 24:17 formulates the passage ‫“( הנה אנכי חטאתי ואנכי הﬠויתי‬Look, I have sinned and I have done wickedly”) vis-à-vis v. ms. B1st hand (ἰδοὺ ἐγώ εἰμι ἠδίκησα) and B2nd hand/LXX (ἰδοὺ ἐγώ εἰμι ἡδίκησα καὶ ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ ποιμὴν ἐκακοποίησα = “I did wrong and I, the shepherd, have done evil”) completely anew. There is little to support a textual omission of καὶ ἐγώ εἰμι ὁ ποιμὴν ἐκακοποίησα in the MT, since 4QSama attests to this text (‫)וא]נכי הרﬠה הרﬠתי‬ but there is no place for ‫ ואנכי הﬠויתי‬in the text gap before it.59 4QSama can be translated as “and I, I have done wickedly to evil,” as 1 ChrMT 21:17 more decisively attests (‫חטאתי והרﬠ הרﬠותי‬, correspondingly 1 ChrLXX /ANT 21:17), or it can be translated as – with regard to the people/sheep allegory that follows in the verse – “and I, the shepherd, have done wickedly” (so 2 SamLXX /ANT 24:17 καὶ ἐγώ [LXX + ἐιμι] ὁ ποιμὴν ἐκακοποίησα). With ‫ואנכי הﬠויתי‬, 2 SamMT 24:17 abrogates the Greek textual tradition in order to re-emphasise David’s “sinning” (‫ﬠוה‬, cf. 2 Sam 24:10 ‫ )ﬠון‬according to ‫חטאתי‬. Thus, the juxtaposition of kaige ἀνομία and the verb ἀδικέω in 2 SamLXX 24:10, 17 suggest that ‫ ﬠוה‬in 2 SamMT 19:20 and 24:17 replaced another Hebrew verb (‫ )?ﬠׁשק‬translated as ἀδικέω.60 This is supported by the text-historical testimony of the story of the Ark returning to Israel (1 Sam 6). The LXX/ANT and Palimpsestus Vindobonensis – as the oldest testimony – speak of “something for the torment [L 115 + of the plague]” as a Philistine gift to send back with the Ark “and it will be atoned [‫ ]כפר‬for you,” but the MT knows from the beginning that “an atonement (‫ )אשם‬to the God of Israel” is required.”61 Again, 1–2 SamuelMT, chronologically after the kaige recension of the Greek version, has transmitted a narrative with a developed theology of guilt and forgiveness to which the apostle Paul gave his own response in the 1st century AD. 2 SamANT 24 shows no features of the kaige recension, but it is unclear whether this is an indication of it being an older text. 2 SamANT 24 is strongly influenced by 1 ChrLXX /ANT 21. This is shown, for example, by the additions in 2 SamANT 24:2, καὶ πρὸς τοὺς ἄρχοντας τῶν δυνάμεων (1 ChrLXX /ANT 21:2 καὶ πρὸς τοὺς ἄρχοντας τῆς δυνάμεως; 1 ChrMT 21:2 ‫ )ואל שרי הﬠם‬and καὶ ἐνέγκατε πρός με (= 1 ChrLXX /ANT 21:2; 1 ChrMT 21:2 ‫)והביאו אלי‬, or by passages that read βλέποντεςANT (= 1 ChrLXX /ANT 21:3 – but only 2 SamMT 24:3 reads ‫ )ראות‬instead of ὁρῶντες (v. 3LXX); καὶ ἐκράτησε τὸ ρῆμαANT (1 ChrLXX / ANT 21:4 τὸ δὲ ρῆμα ἐκραταιώθη) instead of καὶ ὑπερίσχυσεν ὁ λόγος (v. 4LXX); ἀδικέω (‫)ﬠוה‬ – ἀνομέω (‫)רשﬠ‬, while 2 ChrANT 6:37 prefers ἀνομέω (‫)ﬠוה‬ – ἀσεβέω (‫ )רשﬠ‬and DanLXX 9:5 ἀδικέω (‫)ﬠוה‬ – ἀσεβέω (‫)רשﬠ‬. 59  Cross/Parry/Saley, “4QSama,” 192. 60  ‫ ﬠׁשק‬forms the Masoretic equivalent for a non-kaige use of ἀδικέω in 1 Sam 12:4, which is also given in Deut 28:29, 33 as a possible model for a kaige usage in 2 Samuel. 61  1 SamLXX 6:3 ἀπόδοτε αὐτῇ (ANT + ὑπὲρ) τῆς βασάνου (ANT + δῶρα) … καὶ ἐξιλασθήσεται ὑμῖν / … pro tormentum donum … et propitius vobis erit L115(= 4QSama ‫ו]נכפר‬ ‫)ל[כם‬, reddite ei honorem pro tormento … propitius erit vobis DeusL91–95, but MT ‫תשיבו לו אשם‬ ‫ ;… ונודﬠ לכם‬cf. 1 Sam 6:4, 8, 17.

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ἡμάρτηκαANT and περίελεANT (=1 ChrLXX /ANT 21:8) instead of ἥμαρτον and παραβίβασον (v. 10LXX); θάνατον ἐν ΙσραηλANT (= 1 ChrLXX /ANT 21:14 = word sequence of 2 SamMT 24:15/1 ChrMT 21:14) instead of ἐν Ισραηλ θάνατον (v. 15LXX); μετεμελήθηANT (= 1 ChrLXX /ANT 21:15) instead of παρεκλήθη (v. 16LXX); θυσιαστήριον τῷ κυρίῳANT (= 1 ChrLXX /ANT 21:18 = word order of MT) instead of τῷ κυρίῳ θυσιαστήριον (v. 18LXX = word order of MT); ἐν τῇ ἅλῳANT (1 ChrLXX /ANT 21:18 ἐν ἅλῳ) instead of ἐν τῷ ἅλωνι (v. 18LXX). 2 SamANT 24 shares certain facts with Josephus (Ant. 7.13), with Joab counting 900,000 Israelites and 400,000 Judeans instead of 800,000 Israelites and 500,000 Judeans (2  SamLXX /MT 24:9); 1  ChrLXX /ANT 21:5 counts 1,100,000 Israelites and 480,000 Judeans while 1 ChrMT 21:5 counts 1,100,000 Israelites alongside 470,000 Judeans. 2 SamANT 24 shows itself to have been strongly shaped by 1 ChrLXX /ANT 21 without adopting its kaige influences.62 It also shares two additions with 1 ChrMT 21 and numerical data according to Josephus’ source. The textual history becomes even more confusing insofar as 4QSama, as the oldest manuscript, offers a mixed text of 2 Sam 24 and 1 Chr 21 for the narrative of 2 Sam 24:16– 22.63 This fluid textual tradition speaks altogether for a narrative of 2 Sam 24 that was still very young and lively in the 1st century BC, circulating in various versions. According to Edenburg, 2 SamMT 24 confirms a late textual formation by its choice of words, which also clearly contrasts with 1–2 SamuelMT.64 Thus, ‫( הקם מזבח‬2 Sam 24:18 par. 1 Chr 21:18) instead of ‫ בנה מזבח‬refers to 1 Kgs 16:32 and 2 Kgs 21:3 par. 2 Chr 33:3. 2 Kgs 21:3 was only connected to the Books of Kings through the Torah-centric theological editing, and 1 Kgs 16:32 also perhaps acquired its form in this context (cf. references to Ahab in 2 Kgs 21:3, 13) in connection with a broadened exposition of Ahab traditions. 2 SamLXX / ANT 24:18 στῆσον θυσιαστήριον and 1 ChrLXX /ANT 21:18 στῆσαι θυσιαστήριον confirm ‫ הקם מזבח‬as an original phrase.

9.  Text-Critical Insights Codex Aleppo provides in 2  Sam  24:17 “and I, I  have done wickedly” (‫)ואנכי העויתי‬ a small but important indication that the Masoretic text underwent a development whose final version is first attested in 920 AD. The Septuagint, with Codex Vaticanus from the 4th century AD, shows a kaige recension of the text, which, however, does not agree completely with the MT. It appears that in the 1st century BCE, 2 SamLXX 24 received a proto-Masoretic version, which subsequently underwent further changes up to 2 SamMT 24. The Masoretic book di62 

For example, 1 ChrLXX /ANT 21:17 shows kaige influence (ἐγώ ἐιμι). Kratz, “Bible manuscript”; Ulrich, “David.” 64  Edenburg, “2 Sam 21–24,” 200. 63 

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vision between 2 Sam 24/1 Kgs 1 is already attested by 5QKings (late 2nd century BCE) with its “handlesheet” before 1 Kgs 1:1, but this says nothing about the textual form of 2 Sam 24. 2 SamANT 24 attests to a non-kaige text, whose strong similarity to 1 ChrLXX /ANT 21 makes it difficult to speak of a (much) older predecessor text to 2 SamLXX 24. In addition, the numbers in common with Josephus’ source and also the – from today’s point of view – mixed text version of 4QSama (2 Sam 24:16–22) lead me to the conclusion that little can be said about the original text underlying 2 Sam 24. It remains doubtful that 2 SamANT 24 offers a true precursor text to 2 SamLXX 24. 2 SamANT 24 is more likely to be placed in the editorial process of the Old Greek of the Books of Samuel and Kings. If the other texts of 2 Sam 21–24 that have parallel versions in Chronicles (2 Sam 21:15–22; 23:8–39) do not show as much of an affinity to 1 Chronicles as 2 SamANT 24 does, then 2 Sam 21–24 could have been developed late into a literary unit that provided the proto-Masoretic Book of Samuel with a new ending formed from older texts of different origins (material used in 1 Chronicles, Psalmic literature, and also the Sondergut of 2 Sam 21). This idea cannot be rejected, especially if 2 Sam 21–24 is to be seen as an insertion into the court history and if the court history itself only late forms a bridge between the Books of Samuel and Kings. Then, the as-yet unanswerable question arises as to what an original ending after 2 Sam 9 (or after 8:18?) might have looked like. 2 Sam 21–24, the court history and 1 Chronicles show three possibilities of creatively writing literary book endings from existing material. My thesis on the Old Greek and ANT, LXX and MT is at least not disproven by the insights gained. It is also not verified, which is why the question of how 2 SamANT 21–24 could have been understood in the run-up to the kaige recension is still unanswered. Against Edenburg’s doubts that 2 Sam 21–24 would have intruded into an original Book of Samuel reaching as far as 2 SamANT 26:11, I am unable to develop a simple and strong counter-model. However, the coherence of the court history (2 Sam 10–20 and 1 Kgs 1:1–2:11) as a bridge between Samuel and Kings is beyond questioning for me. The Torah-centric theological revision in 1 Kgs 2:3 can be interpreted differently from the perspective of book production. But the Wiederaufnahme of 2 Sam 8:15–18 in 2 Sam 20:23–26 sets a caesura and allows 2 SamANT 21–24 to be later inserted into the court history. Possibly, the insertion of 2 Sam 21–24 into ANT already from a proto-Masoretic standpoint intended the new book division at 2 Sam 24/1 Kgs 1 accomplished by the kaige recension of section βγ. I can only recall for this opinion an example already mentioned that gives a similarly puzzling picture. ANT shares with the LXX/MT the shift of the Ahaz story to its historically correct place (2 Kgs 16), including all chronological corrections that now set Hezekiah as the Judean contemporary witness of the fall of Samaria. However, 2 Kgs ANT 17:2 does not yet carry out the conceptually necessary re-evaluation of the deeds of the Israelite king Hosea according to 2 KgsLXX /MT 17:2. Without an elucidation of the his-

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torical development of the Greek Antiochene text, the text-historical interpretation can not go any further at this point. The textual history of 2 Sam 24 points beyond the kaige recension of the 1st century BCE into an unreconstructible prehistory. Certainly, concerning this period, L. T. Simon refers to commonplace position in his study of 2 Sam 24: “It is a generally accepted view that the Israel we know from the tradition comes to be during the pre-Hellenistic post-exilic period.”65 But true as it is that we encounter wide religious literature about biblical Israel in the Hellenistic period, we lack any testimony for the pre-Hellenistic post-exilic period  – that is, the Persian period  – as to what these texts or their precursor texts looked like. Whatever religious traditions existed in Judah in Persian times, we do not know their exact textual wordings. In particular, the preserved remains of the Old Latin tradition suggest that precursor texts of the Tanakh in Old Greek were still circulating in the 3rd century BCE and beyond, which are difficult to read out of the Greek and Masoretic tradition.66 Thus, Simon’s text criticism based on the Masoretic text follows a modern convention of scholarly work. However, it must be made aware that the Masoretic version  – at least of 2 Sam 24  – represents a recent development whose textual history up to the kaige recension in the 1st century BCE must first be understood in order to be able to make certain considerations about the textual history before the 1st century BCE. How can the conceptual contradiction between 2  Kgs ANT 16 and 2  Kgs ANT 17:2 be resolved? And how can one resolve the tension of a non-kaige court history of 2 SamANT 10–26, which includes a more recent ending of the Books of Samuel with 2 Sam 21–24? The development of the text from kaige 2 SamLXX 24 to 2 Sam MT 24 allows a textual treatment for several centuries. Historically, the establishment of Christianity as a de facto state religion may have greatly accelerated the final work on the Jewish Tanakh as it has been comprehensively available to us since 920 AD. The Torah-centric theological difference between HosMT 8:12 (‫ )תורתי‬and its translations, according to which Jerome at the end of the 4th century CE could still assume a reading as ‫תורותי‬,67 indicates that scribes were still compensating for theological incoherencies in the Tanakh long after the 1st century BCE. S. Schorch points to significant variations of the Pentateuchal text in Samaritan Targumim, which may have preserved an original diversity of the Samaritan Torah tradition.68 The existence of Palimpsestus Vindobonensis, the Latin Vorlage 65 Simon,

Identity, 34. Palimpsestus Vindobonensis. On Codex Monacensis with its text of Exod 36–40, see Bogaert, “L’importance.” 67  LXX reads τὰ νόμιμα αὐτοῦ and Old Latin legitima eiusL175/L176, Peshiṭta “the multitude of my laws” (Gelston, Peshiṭta, 119); the Vulgate of Jerome reads likewise leges meas; see Schütte, “Einbindung.” 68  Schorch, “Value.” 66 Cf.

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of which was copied again in the 5th century AD, reminds us how little we know of the circulation of older versions of the biblical text in Christianity and even more so in Judaism until the 4th and 5th centuries AD. Fragments from the Cairo Genizah testify to readings from the 1st millennium AD that, although small, are significant to the text’s developmental history and do not yet share a TiberianMasoretic understanding of biblical tradition.69 Just as 2 KgsANT 16 testifies to a conceptual hermaphrodite with 2 KgsANT 17:2, so also could 2 SamANT 21–24 have been incorporated into the non-kaige edition of the Antiochene Books of Samuel and Kings, which then, in the kaige recension of the majority text of the Septuagint, for the first time depicted the proto-Masoretic stage of development of the MT with its book division at 2 Sam 24/1 Kgs 1. Looking at the tradition of the Kitāb at-Tārīḫ of Abū l-Fatḥ, it can be seen that the Samaritan legend of a “Persian-era” religious dispute between Samaritans and Jews could have originated in Hasmonean times, similar to Jewish literature of the same period making propaganda for Judaism with tales “from times past.” With 2 Sam 24 as the conclusion to the book, the kaige recension testifies to a special significance of this narrative within the literary unity of 2 Sam 21–24 and for the Masoretic Book of Samuel, which also falls within the Hasmonean period. Whether the Masoretic Book of Samuel bore its name from the beginning, which is first attested only in the Talmud, remains uncertain, even if Abū l-Fatḥ’s talk of a “scroll of David” and of “Books of David” as alternative names may have been for rather polemical reasons. 2 Sam 24 and its significance for an orientation of the qibla towards Jerusalem was undoubted for Abū l-Fatḥ. But can this be said for the main intention of 2 Sam 24 or 1 Chr 21, whose narrative is tangible beginning in the 1st century BCE?

10.  Textual Interpretation and Compositional History I have deliberately refrained from naming the narrative of 2 Sam 24. 1 Chr 21 acquires the features of a cult aetiology after 1 Chr 22:1 continues “and David said, this is the house of YHWH God, and this the altar for a burnt offering for Israel.” 2 SamANT/LXX 24:25 also inserts a reference to Solomon using the same wording, which brings the history of the temple into view.70 But does 2 SamMT 24 intend to be a cult aetiology? A. Schenker has provided a detailed analysis and nuanced interpretation of the 2 Sam 24 text. According to him, the narrative combines “the foundation legend of the Jerusalem sanctuary with a detailed story centred on YHWH 69 E. g., T-S B4.29 with Deut 6:17: “mizvat YHWH” or “mizvot YHWH”? Cf. Schütte, “miṣwah oder tôrah.” 70  καὶ προσέθηκεν Σαλωμων ἐπὶ τὸ θυσιαστήριον ἐπ’ ἐσχάτῳ ὅτι μικρὸν ἦν ἐν πρώτοις.



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and King David.”71 Thus, contrary to what Abū l-Fatḥ recalled of this story, an aetiology of the Jerusalem Temple merely provided the material to form an elaborately composed “Fürstenspiegel”72 (“guide to good rulership”) in the Masoretic narrative. This difference between the Masoretic emphasis and Abū l-Fatḥ’s reception can be noted today, but nothing further can be said. As the final chapter of the Masoretic Book of Samuel, 2 Sam 24 depicts, according to Schenker, the maturation of a king into exercising his power responsibly, learning to consider the redemptive gifts of divine grace in their full scope.73 In thinking through the theological implications of the Masoretic text, he interprets a “coherence of content, thought and theme,” which is why “the original unity of the text may legitimately be assumed” without “denying the variety of motifs and traditions of different nature and origin.”74 Schenker sees in the Greek tradition the “brusqueness” of the Masoretic text softened and in Josephus the image of David relieved of negative features.75 1 Chr 21, on the other hand, pursues a different goal. David’s sin and repentance would give rise to Jerusalem replacing the older place of worship, Gibeon.76 Thus, with its concentrated presentation, 2  SamMT 24 appears as a complete text, which at the same time formed the Vorlage for various corruptions in the Greek tradition. So, does 2 SamMT 24 form the oldest text tradition of this Fürstenspiegel? This cannot be said with certainty, at least not regarding the small details. According to 2 SamMT/LXX 24:11, God’s word comes “to Gad the prophet, the seer of David” (‫)אל גד הנביא חזה דוד‬. In 2 SamANT 24:11 and 1 ChrMT/LXX /ANT 21:9 τὸν προφήτην is absent not by chance. A clear parallel to 2 SamMT/LXX 24:11 is formulated in 2 Kgs 17:13 (“by the hand of everyone his77 prophet, every seer”). This places 2 Sam 24 in the context of the Torah-centric theological treatment of the Books of Kings, especially since 2 Kgs 17:13 is missing from Palimpsestus Vindobonensis. The note in 1 Sam 9:9 that explains the term “seer” (‫ )ראה‬with “prophet” (‫ )נביא‬probably also dates from this time, even if this is difficult to 71 Schenker, Der Mächtige, 27: “die Gründungslegende des Jerusalemer Heiligtums mit einer ausführlichen Geschichte, in deren Mittelpunkt JHWH und König David stehen.” 72 Schenker, Der Mächtige, 28. 73  Cf. Talmud b. Yoma 22b with its comparisons between David’s and Saul’s ruling qualities; on this, see Klein, “Streben.” A larger collection of Karaite and Rabbanite thoughts on the interpretation of 2 Sam 24 is presented by Schenker, Der Mächtige, 50–58. 74 Schenker, Der Mächtige, 33: Er arbeitet eine “inhaltliche[.], gedankliche[.] und thematische[.] Kohärenz” heraus, weshalb “legitimerweise die ursprüngliche Einheit des Textes angenommen werden darf,” ohne “die Vielfalt der Motive und Traditionen verschiedener Natur und Herkunft … in Abrede” zu stellen. But can a reception of this study satisfy the ever-flaring questions of incoherence in 2 Sam 24 (Rofé, “4QSama”; Auld, “David’s Census,” cf. Simon, Identity)? 75 Schenker, Der Mächtige, 49: “Schroffheit.” 76 Schenker, Der Mächtige, 39–47. 77 Ketib ‫ביד כל נביאו כל חזה‬. The Qere status constructus pl. ‫ נביאי‬remains questionable. Should ‫ ביד כל נביא וכל חזה‬be read?

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prove.78 And once again, the formulaic, probably secondary confession of guilt in 2 SamMT 24:17 should come back to mind, with ‫ ﬠוה‬again emphasising David’s sin (2 Sam 24:10 ‫)ﬠון‬. This key term builds a bridge to that of “atone” (‫)כפר‬ in 2 Sam 21:3.79 The transmission of the Books of Samuel – MT, Septuagint and 4QSama – reveals “nomistic” textual growth.80 A. Aejmelaeus dates this, among other developments, to “around the turn of the era, perhaps the 1st century BCE” and sees the Books of Samuel then “not yet considered to be … authoritative and unchangeable in its wording.”81 In 2 Sam 21, Hannes Bezzel has already recognised a text with Chronistic influences. This narrative is hardly about political tensions of the Persian or early Hellenistic period but rather “about more fundamental questions, not least about the relationship between offence and punishment.”82 In this sense, Schenker’s dating of 2 Sam 24 (“not too far into the post-exilic period”)83 must also be corrected, which then solves the problem as to why the prescribed ransom for the muster (Exod 30:11–16; 38:25–26, cf. Josephus, Ant. 7.13), which would have prevented David’s sin, is only documented late by Priestly texts.84 L. T. Simons gives decisive weight to David’s dealings with the Jebusite Araunah for his dating of 2 Sam 24 (after 164 BCE).85 This dating also fits in better with the interrelationships between the Books of Kings and 1–2 Chronicles as recently described by Schenker.86 This results in a “post-Chronistic” treatment of Samuel and Kings.87 2  SamANT 24 and 4QSama show strong references to the Chronistic textual tradition as well as clear features that the narrative of 2 Sam 24 has been preserved. An even older version of 2 Sam 24 cannot be recovered. It is possible that it or  – according

78  1 ChrLXX 26:28; 2 ChrLXX /ANT 16:7, 10 also normalize ‫ ראה‬to προφήτης; 2 ChrLXX /ANT 19:2; 29:30 ‫ חזה‬to προφήτης. 79  On this, see Schenker, Der Mächtige, 9–10. The key term ‫ כפר‬is already given originally in the Vorlage of 2 SamANT 21:14 ἐξιλάσατο, 24:25 ἵλεως ἐγένετο (MT ‫)ﬠתר‬, cf. note 22 and 61. The themes of the concentric composition of 2 Sam 21–24 are again summarised in the three punitive alternatives of famine – war – disease (2 Sam 24:13) (Simon, Identity, 143). 80  Rofé, “Nomistic Correction”; A. Aejmelaeus, “Corruption.” 81  Aejmelaeus, “Corruption,” 16–17. 82  Bezzel, “Corrections,” 207. 83 Schenker, Der Mächtige, 38: “nicht zu weit in die nachexilische Zeit.” 84 Schenker, Der Mächtige, 18 and note 26; Simon, Identity, 138. 85  “I should think that chapter 24 rather enters into a controversy with the mentality that stood behind the reconsecration of the altars” (Simon, Identity, 157) as similarly 2 Sam 21 or the Book of Ruth (Simon, Identity, 34 and 328). 86 Schenker, Textgeschichte, 187–188. Idem, “Septuagint,” 14–15, writes on 2 Kgs 21:2–9: “It seems likely that the redactor of the new edition of 2 Kgs 21:2–9, preserved in MT, combined the first edition (preserved in V[etus]L[atina]) with the Chronicler’s work, and that the Chronicler had before his eyes the first edition of 2 Kgs 21:2–9, namely that preserved in VL, the only remaining witness of the earliest LXX.” 87  On this question see Becker/Bezzel, Rereading; Willi, “Geschichtswerk.”



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to Auld’s or Schenker’s conception88  – its motifs are based on a substantially different textual form.

11. Summary Various indications show that the story of 2 Sam 24/1 Chr 21 with its individual motifs remained a work in progress for several centuries from the 2nd century BCE onwards, thus developing quite differently in several traditions. In this, the motif of a Jerusalem cult aetiology, at least for the versions of 2 Sam 24, played a rather subordinate role compared to David’s royal action. For the Samaritan Abū l-Fatḥ, however, this aetiological motif had the greatest significance in the fundamental dispute about the correct orientation of worship, towards Jerusalem or towards Gerizim. The legend that the Kitāb at-Tārīḫ associates with the narrative of 2 Sam 24 may – like the narrative itself – have its roots in the 2nd century BCE and would have also, like 2 Sam 24, evolved in the following centuries.

Bibliography Aejmelaeus, A., “A Kingdom at Stake: Reconstructing the Old Greek – Deconstructing the Textus Receptus,” in: Scripture in Transition: Essays on Septuagint, Hebrew Bible, and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honour of Raija Sollamo (ed. A. Voitila/J. Jokiranta; JSJSup 126; Leiden, 2008), 353–366. –, “Corruption or Correction? Textual Development in the MT of 1 Samuel 1,” in: Textual Criticism and Dead Sea Scrolls Studies in Honour of Julio Trebolle Barrera (ed. A. Piquer Otero/P. A. Torijano Morales; JSJSup 157; Leiden, 2012), 1–17. Auld, A. G., “David’s Census: some Textual and Literary Remarks,” in: Textual Criticism and Dead sea Scrolls Studies in Honour of Julio Trebolle Barrera (ed. A. Piquer Otero/P. A. Torijano Morales; JSJSup 157; Leiden, 2012), 19–34. –, “The Text of Chronicles and the beginnings of Samuel,” in: Rereading the relecture? The Question of (Post)chronistic Influence in the Latest Redactions of the Books of Samuel (ed. U. Becker/H. Bezzel; FAT 66; Tübingen, 2014), 31–40. Barthélemy, D., Les Devanciers d’Aquila (VTSup 10; Leiden, 1963). Becker, U./Bezzel, H., Rereading the relecture? The Question of (Post)chronistic Influence in the Latest Redactions of the Books of Samuel (FAT 66; Tübingen, 2014). Bezzel, H., “Chronistisch beeinflusste Korrekturen am Bild Sauls in den Samuelbüchern?” in: Rereading the relecture? The Question of (Post)chronistic Influence in the Latest Redactions of the Books of Samuel (ed. U. Becker/H. Bezzel; FAT 66; Tübingen, 2014), 183–214.

88  Auld, “David’s Census,” 34: “both 2 Sam 24 and 1 Chr 21 include several expansions from shorter and earlier forms of these texts”; Schenker, Der Mächtige, 33: “eine Vielfalt der Motive und Traditionen.”

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Bogaert, P.‑M.,”L’importance de la Septante et du ʽMonacensis’ de la Vetus Latina pour l’exégèse du livre de l’Exode (chap. 35–40),” in: Studies in the Book of Exodus (ed. M. Vervenne; BETL 126; Leuven, 1996), 399–428. Cross, F. M./Parry, D. W./Saley, R. J., “4QSama,” in: Qumran Cave 4. XII (ed. F. M. Cross et al.; DJD 17; Oxford, 2005). Edenburg, C., “2 Sam 21–24: Haphazard Miscellany or Deliberate Revision?” in: Insights into Editing in the Hebrew Bible and the Ancient Near East: What Does Documented Evidence Tell Us about the Transmission of Authoritative Texts? (ed. R. Müller/J. Pakkala; CBET 84; Leuven, 2017), 189–222. Fernández Marcos N., “Der antiochenische Text der griechischen Bibel in den Samuelund Königebüchern (1–4 Kön LXX),” in: Im Brennpunkt: Die Septuaginta, Vol. 2 (ed. S. Kreuzer/J. P. Lesch; BWANT 161; Stuttgart, 2004), 177–213. –/ Busto Saiz, J. R. (ed.), Samuel, Vol. 1 of El Texto Antioqueno de la Biblia Griega (TECC 50; Madrid, 1989). Fischer, B., “Palimpsestus Vindobonensis: A Revised Edition of L 115 For Samuel–Kings,” BIOSCS 16 (1983): 13–87. Gelston, A., The Peshiṭta of the Twelve Prophets (Oxford, 1987). Ginzberg, L., “Antoninus in the Talmud,” in: Jewish Encyclopedia (1906), 656–657, https:// www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/1617-antoninus-in-the-talmud, accessed on November 11, 2021. Hensel, B., “Von ‘Israeliten’ zu ‘Ausländern’: Zur Entwicklung anti-samaritanischer Polemik ab der hasmonäischen Zeit,” ZAW 126 (2014): 475–493. –, Juda und Samaria: Zum Verhältnis zweier nach-exilischer Jahwismen (FAT 110; Tübingen, 2016). Hützli, J., “The Literary Relationship between I–II Samuel and I–II Kings. Considerations Concerning the Formation of the Two Books,” ZAW 122 (2010): 505–519. Joosten, J., “The Samareitikon and the Samaritan Tradition,” in: Die Septuaginta – Text, Wirkung, Rezeption: 4. Internationale Fachtagung veranstaltet von Septuaginta Deutsch (LXX.D), Wuppertal 19.–22. Juli 2012 (ed. W. Kraus/S. Kreuzer; WUNT 325; Tübingen, 2014), 346–359. –, “Biblical Interpretation in the Samareitikon as Exemplified in Anonymous Readings in Leviticus Attested in M′,” in: The Samaritan Pentateuch and the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. M. Langlois; CBET 94; Leuven, 2019), 313–325. Kalimi, I., “Die Quelle(n) der Textparallelen zwischen Samuel–Könige und Chronik,” in: Rereading the relecture? The Question of (Post)chronistic Influence in the Latest Redactions of the Books of Samuel (ed. U. Becker/H. Bezzel; FAT 66; Tübingen 2014), 11–30. Klein, J., “Streben nach Sündlosigkeit als Mangel – Sündenverstricktheit als Vorzug eines Herrschers. Gedanken zur Talmudstelle bJoma 22b,” in: König David  – biblische Schlüsselfigur und europäische Leitgestalt: 19. Kolloquium (2000) der Schweizerischen Akademie der Geistes- und Sozialwissenschaften (ed. W. Dietrich/H. Herkommer; Freiburg [Schweiz], 2003), 229–238. Kratz, R. G., “Bibelhandschrift oder Midrasch? Zum Verhältnis von Text- und Literargeschichte in den Samuelbüchern im Licht der Handschrift 4Q51 (4QSama),” in: The Books of Samuel: Stories  – History  – Reception History (ed. W. Dietrich; BETL 284; Leuven, 2016), 153–180. Kreuzer, S., “Älteste Septuaginta und hebraisierende Bearbeitung. Old Greek und Semikaige im nicht-kaige-Text von 2 Samuel (mit einer Analyse von 2 Sam 4,1–5),” in: Die Septuaginta – Text, Wirkung, Rezeption: 4. Internationale Fachtagung veranstaltet von



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Septuaginta Deutsch (LXX.D), Wuppertal 19.–22. Juli 2012 (ed. W. Kraus/S. Kreuzer; WUNT 325; Tübingen, 2014), 73–88. Lange, A., Die Handschriften biblischer Bücher von Qumran und den anderen Fundorten, Vol. 1 of Handbuch der Textfunde vom Toten Meer (Tübingen, 2009). Mäkipelto, V., “An Integrative Approach to textual History: How Fluid Textual Traditions Challenge Methodology,” BN, NF 186 (2020): 29–49. Mathys, H.‑P., Dichter und Beter: Theologen aus spätalttestamentlicher Zeit (OBO 132; Fribourg, 1994). Milik, J. T., “Textes de la Grotte 5Q,” in: Les ‘Petites Grottes’ de Qumrân (ed. M. Baillet/J. T. Milik/R. de Vaux; DJD 3; Oxford, 1962), 167–197. Mommsen, T. (ed.), Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Vol. IX,1 (Berlin, 1892). Noja, S., “The Samareitikon,” in: The Samaritans: Their Religion, Literature, Society and Culture (ed. A. D. Crown; Tübingen, 1989), 408–412. Noth, M., Überlieferungsgeschichtliche Studien: Die sammelnden und bearbeitenden Geschichtswerke im Alten Testament (Schriften der Königsberger Gelehrten Gesellschaft 18,2; Halle/S., 1943). Rahlfs, A., Septuaginta (Stuttgart, 1935). –, Septuaginta-Studien I–III, 2nd ed. (Göttingen, 1965). Richelle, M., “Revisiting 2 Kings 13:14–21 (MT and LXX),” in: Making the Biblical Text: Textual Studies in the Hebrew and the Greek Bible (ed. I. Himbaza; OBO 275; Fribourg, 2015), 62–81. Rofé, A., “The Nomistic Correction in Biblical Manuscripts and Its Occurrence in 4QSama,” RdQ 14 (1989): 247–254. –, “4QSama in the Light of Historico-literary Criticism: The Case of 2 Sam 24 and 1 Chr 21,” in: Biblische und judaistische Studien: Festschrift für Paolo Sacchi (ed. A. Vivian; JudUm 29; Frankfurt, 1990), 109–119. Schenker, A., Der Mächtige im Schmelzofen des Mitleids: Eine Interpretation von 2 Sam 24 (OBO 42; Fribourg, 1982). –, Älteste Textgeschichte der Königebücher (OBO 199; Fribourg, 2004). –, “Textgeschichtliches zum Samaritanischen Pentateuch und Samareitikon,” in: Samaritans: Past and Present: Current Studies (ed. Mor M./F. V. Reiterer; SJ 53/SSam 5; Berlin, 2010), 105–121. –, “The Septuagint in the Text History of 1–2 Kings,” in: The Books of Kings (ed. B. Halpern/A. Lemaire; VTSup 129; Leiden, 2010), 3–17. Schorch, S., “The Value of the Samaritan Versions for the Textual History of the Samaritan Pentateuch,” in: Text 30 (2021): 64–85. Schütte, W., “2 Kön 10,23–28 und seine Urfassung nach Palimpsestus Vindobonensis,” RB 125 (2018): 504–524. –, “Die Vetus Latina und die Samuel-Könige-Bücher. Zum Miteinander von Textkritik und Exegese,” BN, NF 177 (2018): 25–43. –, “Endeten die Königebücher ursprünglich mit 2 Könige 17? Gründe dafür und Gründe dagegen” (2019), https://independent.academia.edu/wolfgangschuette, accessed on November 11, 2021. –, “miṣwah oder tôrah? Ben Sira und das Aufkommen der Torah im 2. Jh. v. Chr,” SJOT 35 (2021): 33–58. –, “Die Einbindung der Begriffe ‘Tora’ und ‘Bund’ in die ältere theologische Konzeption einer ‘verwandtschaftlichen’ Beziehung von Gott und Israel in der Hoseaschrift”, in:

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Bundestheologie bei Hosea? (ed. F. Sedlmeier/H. U. Steymans; BZAW 522; Berlin 2022), 345–368. –/ Schneider, T., “Adramelech, der Äthiopier (2 Kön 17,4 ANT). Eine neue Quelle zu den Beziehungen zwischen Hosea von Israel und der kuschitischen 25. Dynastie?” BN, NF 182 (2019): 69–90. Shenkel, J. D., Chronology and Recensional Development in the Greek Text of Kings (HSM 1; Cambridge, 1968). Simon, L. T., Identity and Identification: An Exegetical and Theological Study of 2 Sam 21–24 (TG.T 64; Rome, 2000). Stenhouse, P., The Kitāb al-Tarīkh of Abū ʼl-Fatḥ (Sydney, 1985). Tekoniemi, T., “Identifying kaige and (proto-)Lucianic readings in 2 Kings with the help of Old Latin manuscript La115,” SBL Annual Meeting 2017, https://helsinki.academia. edu/TimoTekoniemi, accessed on November 11, 2021. –, “In search for Old Greek readings: The Old Latin manuscript Palimpsestus Vindobonensis (La115) in 2 Samuel,” SBL Annual Virtual Meeting 2021, https://helsinki. academia.edu/TimoTekoniemi, accessed on November 11, 2021. –, “Is there a (proto-)Lucianic stratum in the text of 1 Kings of the Old Latin manuscript La115?” in: On Hexaplaric and Lucianic Readings and Recensions (ed. D. Candido/J. Alfaro/K. De Troyer; DSI 14; Göttingen, 2021), 115–134. Thackeray, H. S. J., “The Greek Translators of the Four Books of Kings,” JTS 8 (1907), 262–266. Trebolle, J., “Kings (MT/LXX) and Chronicles: The Double and Triple Textual Tradition,” in: Reflection and Refraction: Studies in Biblical History in Honour of A. Graeme Auld (ed. R. Rezetko/T. H. Lim/W. B. Aucker; VTSup 113; Leiden, 2007), 483–501. –, “Qumran Fragments of the Books of Kings,” in: The Books of Kings (ed. B. Halpern/A. Lemaire; VTSup 129; Leiden, 2010), 19–39. –, /Torijano, P., “From the Greek Recension to the Hebrew Editions: A  Sample from 1 Kgs 2:1–10,” in: Insights into Editing in the Hebrew Bible and the Ancient Near East: What Does Documented Evidence Tell Us about the Transmission of Authoritative Texts? (ed. R. Müller/J. Pakkala; CBET 84; Leuven, 2017), 267–293. Ulrich, E., “David, The Plague and the Angel,” in: After Qumran: Old and Modern Editions of the Biblical Texts – The Historical Books (ed. H. Ausloos/B. Lemmelijn/J. Trebolle Barrera; BETL 246; Leuven, 2012), 63–79. Wedel, G., “Religionsgespräche bei den Samaritanern und der islamische Einfluss auf die Entwicklung und Formulierung einer samaritanischen Theologie,” in: Die Samaritaner und die Bibel: Historische und literarische Wechselwirkungen zwischen biblischen und samaritanischen Traditionen (ed. J. Frey/U. Schattner-Rieser/K. Schmid; SJ 70/ SSam 7; Berlin, 2012), 356–418. Willi, T., “Das deuteronomistische Geschichtswerk im Spiegel der Chronik,” in: Geschichte Israels und deuteronomistisches Geschichtsdenken: Festschrift zum 70. Geburtstag von Winfried Thiel (ed. P. Mommer/A. Scherer; AOAT 380; Münster, 2010), 287–300. Wolff, H. W., “Das Kerygma des deuteronomistischen Geschichtswerks,” in: idem, Gesammelte Studien zum Alten Testament, 2nd ed. (TB 22; München, 1973), 308–324. Zobel, H.‑J., “‫ישראל‬,” in: ThWAT, Vol. 3 (ed. G. J. Botterweck/H. Ringgren; Stuttgart, 1982), 986–1012.

Part III

“Diaspora Perspectives”: Biblical Reflections on Historical Realities in Egypt, Transjordan, Babylon, and Persia

The Judean Group of Elephantine Reading Aramaic Literature in the Service of Achaemenid Rule Ann-Kristin Wigand

1.  Elephantine: A Border Garrison in Persian Times Elephantine is a small island on the river Nile located near the first cataract and directly opposite the ancient town of Syene at the southern border of Egypt. Due to its location and the geographical circumstances, Elephantine has always had an important role for trade and the deployment of military troops.1 Settlements on the island are documented from the Old Kingdom to the 12th/13th century CE and then again in the 19th century. At that time scattered findings of Aramaic written papyri2 prompted larger archaeological investigation on the site that brought to light a large amount of papyri and ostraca.3 Among those findings were papyri and ostraca in Aramaic language that mostly date to the fifth century BCE and thus to the time of Achaemenid rule in Egypt.4 The majority of Aramaic material documents the everyday life of the islands inhabitants: trade, contracts, marriage documents, legal matters and correspondences on religious issues.5 It also depicts the island as place of coworking and cohabitation of people with a multitude of ethnic and religious backgrounds: for example, Persian officials and Egyptian administrative staff already living on the island for a long time were adopted by the new Persian overlords when they took over power in the second half of the fifth century.6 In addition to 1  From the First Dynasty on there is archeological evidence for fortifications in every settlement phase, see Von Pilgrim, “Elephantine”; Von Pilgrim, “Festung.” 2  Published by Sayce/Cowley, Aramaic Papyri. 3  For the circumstances of archaeological work done see the documentation of the excavations in the official documentation Honroth/Rubensohn/Zucker, “Bericht über die Ausgrabungen auf Elephantine” and in the personal journals of Otto Rubensohn published by Müller, “Die Papyrusgrabung auf Elephantine 1906–1908.” 4  The standard editions of the Aramaic material from Egypt are now Porten/Yardeni, Textbook of Aramaic Documents, vols. 1–4 [TAD A–D] and Lozachmeur, La collection ClermontGanneau. 5  For a brief overview of the material see Botta, “Elephantine,” 648–651 and Porten, “Elephantine Papyri.” 6  Schütze “Local Administration,” 489; Briant, “Ethno-classe dominante,” 161–164.

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these groups, groups of Arameans and Judeans are attested to have lived and worked in Elephantine and Syene.7 Smaller groups in Elephantine were the Medes, Chorezmians, Carians, Kaspians, Bactrians, Kilikians, Phoenicians, Libyans and Arabs.8 Due to the island’s border location and the military term ‫ דגל‬as a label for individual groups of inhabitants it has been assumed that Elephantine was a military garrison in Achaemenid times and its inhabitants were mercenaries.9 The written Elephantine documents do not mention any kind of combat activity, but rather indicate their function in the Achaemenid administration.10 Archeological evidence from the living quarter at Elephantine supports the assumption that this multiethnic engaged administration was intended by the Achaemenid power. The houses excavated in the living quarter seem to have been built after the Achaemenids took over the power in Egypt. The modest houses follow a uniform type using identical bricks which points to a central supply of material.11 Houses of the same type are also attested for Achaemenid buildings in Syene.12 These settlements were probably planned and built by the central authority at the beginning of the Achaemenid time for their administrative officials.

2.  The Judean Community of Elephantine For biblical scholars one of the Elephantine groups has always been of high interest: The group that calls themselves ‫יהודיא‬. Neither translation nor exact meaning of this term are completely clear in this context. Translated in English as “Jew,” “Jehudite” or “Judean,” the respective translation already marked the ethnic or the religious focus assumed by the translator. Indeed, the demarcation of religious and ethnic assignment of groups in Elephantine is complex and seem to depend on context and purpose.13 For example, at times the ethnonyms ‫ יהודי‬and ‫ ארמי‬seem to be interchangeable, as in the Aramaic documents the same person of Elephantine with a Yhw-theophoric name can be sometimes assigned as Judean and sometimes as Aramean.14 Here, I use “Judean” for this 7  For the function of ethnonyms in the Aramaic documents from Late Period Egypt see Grassi, “Arameans,” 4–11. 8  For more information on these groups and their roles see Becking, “Other Groups.” 9 Rohrmoser, Götter, 34–35. 10  Schütze “Local Administration,” esp. 499–503; for an overview of the papyri and their content see Porten “Elephantine Papyri.” 11  Schütze “Standard of Living,” 43–46; Krekeler, Stadtgrabung, 133. 12  Schütze “Standard of Living,” 46. 13  Grassi, “Arameans,” 20–21. 14 This brought van Hoonacker, Communauté and recently Rohrmoser, Götter, 6–8 to not differentiate between Arameans and Judeans and choose the term “Judeo-Aramean” when assigning this group. A term that was never used as self-designation by the groups in the documents, though, see Grassi, “Arameans,” 18.

The Judean Group of Elephantine



157

social group15 and assume that they are more or less congruent with the group venerating Yhw at Elephantine.16 The Aramaic documents give testimony of a Yhw-cult that was practiced in a proper temple17 material remnants of which could also be excavated in the late 20th century by Cornelius von Pilgrim.18 As far as we know from the extant documents, the Yhw-temple was not subject of discussion in terms of cult purity, although it is clear that the officials in the Jerusalem temple knew about its existence.19 Only when this temple was destroyed,20 did it become thematic in the correspondence between the Judeans in Elephantine with the Persian governors Bagavahya in Jerusalem and Delaiah in Samaria (TAD A4.7–9). On the one hand, we learn from this correspondence about the cultic practice in the Yhw-temple: The Judean group reports that from the day of the destruction of the temple, there no meal-offerings, incense and burnt offerings were offered anymore in the temple (TAD A4.7:21–22: ‫)מנחה ולבונה וﬠלוה לא ﬠבדו באגורא זך‬. Therefore, it is probable that there had been a respective sacrificial practice by the priests in the first YHW-temple before the destruction.21 On the other hand, we learn about the structures of communication in these religious matters that involve solely the Judean community in Elephantine and Persian officials in Jerusalem, Samaria and Egypt, excluding religious representatives from Jerusalem22 and from the Khnum temple in Elephantine23. In the correspondences concerning the reconstruction of the temple and its sacrificial cult with the governors in Jerusalem and Samaria (TAD A4.7–8) and Persian officials in Egypt (TAD A4.5; A4.10) the Judeans explicitly declare their loyalty towards the authority24 and show tact in who to address (in this case the officials in Jerusalem and Samaria) to place a successful request to the satrap.25 After advising on this matter, Bagavahya and Delaiah send a statement to Arshama, the Persian satrap in Egypt. A copy of this memorandum was held by the community in Elephantine. In 15 

See Grassi, “Arameans,” 6.

16 Becking “Gottheiten,” 206–208 and Edelman “Introduction,” 23–24 have pointed out the

development of different Yahwisms into a Judaism that was constructed in Hellenistic times and therefore dismissed the translation “Jewish” as anachronistic in this context. 17 Rohrmoser, Götter, 154–161. 18  von Pilgrim, “Tempel des Jahwe”; von Pilgrim, “Tempel des Jahu”; Rohrmoser, Götter, 161–185. 19 Granerød, Dimensions, 4–5. 20  The reason for the demolition of the temple has been widely discussed. For an overview see Rohrmoser Götter, 240–265. Two fresh approaches to this question are presented by Becking, “Evil Act” and Schipper, “Judeans/Arameans.” 21  See Rohrmoser, Götter, 209–211 for archaeological evidence that supports the practice of burnt offerings. 22  TAD A4.8 reports that the temple representatives were included but did not answer and thus had no influence in the process. 23 Rohrmoser, Götter, 217. 24  See Kratz, “Der zweite Tempel,” 73–74. 25  Becking, “Evil Act,” 196.

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this document they confirm the reconstruction of the temple (TAD A4.9:8) and explicitly support to continue the meal-offerings and the incense-offering in the temple (TAD A4.9:9–11) but omit the permission for the burnt offerings. Hence, it seems that these burnt offerings were the sticking point in permission to reconstruct the temple. Mainly three possible reasons for the omitted permission by the governor are discussed: First, to avoid offending the priests of Khnum who venerate a ram-headed deity. Second, to avoid offending the Persians, who abhorred animal sacrifices. Third, to avoid offending the priests in Jerusalem who according to Deuteronomistic ideas insist on a centralized cult.26 In any case it is surprising that Persian officials interfered in the affairs of the local temples as their main focus was the political stability of the empire and the actions taken by the regional officials should serve this goal. Most likely, Bagavahya and Delaiah assessed the sacrificial practice of burnt offerings in the Yhw-temple as destabilizing the situation in Elephantine. Granerød convincingly presents that it is more a political than a religious decision (which could in fact accompany all three of the aforementioned explanations) that the governors make to appease the satrap Arshama. One advantage of a Yhw cult on a smaller scale in Elephantine is to indeed have more stability among the communities at site. Another advantage could be of economic nature, meaning that the economic surplus of the Judean community that is not invested in costly animal sacrifices would feed into the funds extracted by the Achaemenid system out of Elephantine.27 The Judeans did not have a choice as to accept the renunciation of the sacrifice. In the confirmation of their approval towards the Persian administration just as in the previous correspondence, however, Jedaniah and his colleagues present themselves as loyal servants to the Persian ruling system (TAD A4.10). Besides the offerings, two festivals specific to the Yhw religion displayed in the Hebrew bible are also mentioned in the Aramaic documents in Elephantine: Sabbath and Passover/Mazzot. It seems, however, that they played a more centrale role for the religious practice in homes, at least in the papyri they are not connected in any way to the cult in the temple.28 From the extant ostraca that mention Sabbath29 it can be drawn, that this specific day of the week was known and used to organize time: In one case a certain Islah arranged a grocery delivery of groceries by boat on the day of Sabbath30 and in another case goods should be brought on Sabbath.31 Although the documents do not reveal details about this holiday, they imply that Sabbath was 26 See for details Kottsieper, “Religionspolitik,” 169–175; Rohrmoser, Götter, 214–218; Granerød, Dimensions, 142–147. 27 Granerød, Dimensions, 146–147. 28 Rohrmoser, Götter, 328. 29  TAD D7.10; D7.12; D7.16; D7.28; D7.35; D7.48. 30  TAD D7.16. 31  TAD D7.48.

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not a day of strict rest as claimed in the Hebrew Bible, at least not for all Judeans of Elephantine.32 Two ostraca which date to the first quarter of the fifth century BCE mention Passover explicitly (TAD D7.6; D7.24: ‫)פסח‬. Neither of them gives further detail about the character of the festival, only it seems that there was no fixed date of celebration yet and the letters also lack any mention of the temple.33 The so-called Passover letter (TAD A4.1) which dates to 419/418 BCE34 is a letter of Hananiah, a Judean in Persian service, to Jedaniah and his fellows in Elephantine. The papyrus is heavily destroyed and not much about its content can be said with certainty. Since the time span of 15th through 21st of a month (most probably Nisan) and the Aramaic term ‫“ חמיר‬leavened” is mentioned,35 it was suggested that the official letter deals with regulations about the Passover/Mazzot-festival.36 Besides the parallels to the religion of the Hebrew Bible the own characteristics of the Yhw venerater’s religious practice at Elephantine have been discussed widely. It seems that Yhw was not the only God venerated in the temple in Elephantine. A list of donations to Yhw (TAD C3.15) includes donations to Anathbethel and Eshembethel. Additionally, a polytheistic greeting formular in Elephantine letters “May the gods [or: all gods] seek your welfare” (‫)אלהיא כל ישאלו שלומכי‬ was employed by Judeans.37 To that account an ostracon should be added in which Judeans send the blessing “by Yhwh and Khn[um],”38 demonstrating it was apparently possible to invoke both the Egyptian god Khnum and YHW in one blessing.39 The religion practiced in Elephantine obviously differs from what is supposed to be pure Yahwism following contemporary biblical perspectives. This was interpreted either as a remnant of pre-exilic Yahwism that could in this form also apply for the religion practiced in preexilic Judea40 or as a (syncretistic) development due to the contact with their neighbors.41 Anathbethel and Eshembethel are known from the Aramaean pantheon. It could be that either the Judeans brought them from their homeland as part of the old pre-exilic religion42 or that the Arameans in Elephantine introduced their gods into the new environment.43 Ultimately, we do not know the religious implications of the donation list and 32 Rohrmoser,

Götter, 331–333; Becking, “Identity,” 407–408. Götter, 338–339; Becking, “Identity,” 406. 34 Porten/Yardeni, TAD, vol. 1, 53. 35  Becking, “Centre,” 69. 36  See Rohrmoser, Götter, 383–385. 37  TAD A3.5–7.9–11; 4.1–4.7–8; 6.1. 38  TAD D7.21; Rohrmoser, Götter, 241. 39  Schipper, “Judeans/Arameans,” 216–217. 40 Meyer, Papyrusfund, 40; Cowley Aramaic Papyri, xxviii. 41 Sachau Aramäische Papyrus: XXVI; Porten, Elephantine Papyri in English, 173–179. 42 Meyer, Papyrusfund, 59. 43 Porten, Archives, 164. 33 Rohrmoser,

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their historical background. There are two things about the Judean pantheon however, that are especially interesting in the context of Achaemenid Egypt. First, the triadic structure of Yhw, Anathbethel and Eshembethel in the temple correspond to a common practice in the Egyptian temples,44 in which Egyptian deities were usually venerated in groups of three (in Elephantine for instance it was the triad of the gods Khnum, Satet and Anukis).45 Apart from the questions of how the religion of the Judeans looked like when they arrived to Elephantine, the Egyptianizing triadic structure of the Judean’s deities show that their religion (or at least the public display of it) most likely underwent changes during their time on the island. Second, in the Elephantine papyri Yhw is called with the divine epithet “God of heaven” (‫)אלה שמיא‬,46 a practice known from biblical texts as well.47 In Ezra 1:2; 6:9–10; 7:12, 21, 23 Cyrus refers to YHWH with this epithet and in Ezra 5:11–12 and Neh 2:20 Jehudites use it in a note to king Darius.48 Likewise Jedaniah refers to Yhw in the Elephantine documents when corresponding with the Persian official Bagohi about the reconstruction of the temple. As the epitheton for YHWH/Yhw was mainly used in Persian dominated times and especially in interaction with Persian officials it could represent a rhetorical fashion as it alludes to the Persian god Ahura Mazda. Although this God is never literally referred to as “God of heaven,” iconographic depictions as winged sun-disk suggest that Ahura Mazda is located in the heavenly realm.49 The background of the epithet then would not be theological but rather politically motivated by using rhetorical means to make the own subject open for the interpretation of the Persian addressee.50 We can assume that the religion of the Judeans adapted to their surrounding over the time they spent in Elephantine,51 due to the specific political system, personal contacts in a multiethnic, multicultural and multilingual context and the confrontation with another predominant religion.

44  Grimme, “Jahotriade” was the first to describe the phenomenon in the Yhw-temple in comparison with the Egyptian practice; Cornell/Strawn, “Pidgin,” 162–163. 45  For the peculiarities of the Elephantine triad see von Lieven, “Spätägyptische Religion,” 132–136. 46  TAD A3.6:1; A4.3:3.5; A4.7:2.27–28; A4.8:2.26–27; A4.9:3–4; Cornell/Strawn, “Pidgin,” 164–173; Rohrmoser, Götter, 118–122. 47  Ezra 1:2; 5:11–12; 6:9–10; 7:12, 21, 23; Neh 1:4–5; 2:4, 20. 48  Cornell/Strawn, “Pidgin,” 166. 49  Cornell/Strawn, “Pidgin,” 164–165. 50  Bolin, “Temple,” 141; Granerød, Dimensions, 253–254 describes this as a Judean strategy of coping with the Persian dominance. 51  Cornell/Strawn, “Pidgin,” 173–174.

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3.  The Literature – Ahiqar Between Biblical and Egyptian Literature We have seen how in some of the Aramaic documents from Elephantine the Judean community present themselves as loyal servants within the Achaemenid system. The non-documentary material supports this, though not as a self-presentation but within its interpretation in social and literary context. Among the Aramaic papyri from Elephantine was one larger piece of literature: An Aramaic version of Ahiqar. The story about the Aramean Ahiqar, a wise counsellor to Sennacherib and Esarhaddon at the Assyrian court, has been known in many versions and languages52 and has been transmitted over a large span of time. The papyrus P. Berlin 13446 found in Elephantine dates to the second half of the fifth century BCE and is the oldest known copy of Ahiqar. It consists of two parts: first, the narrative about the wise courtier Ahiqar and second, a collection of Aramaic wisdom sayings which is combined to the narrative part. Ahiqar, the respected counsellor to the Assyrian kings Sennacherib and Esarhaddon is plotted against by his nephew, who he had trained as his successor at the Assyrian court. Ahiqar flees and hides to avoid execution of the king’s death sentence. Through a lucky turn he is rescued by another courtier who Ahiqar himself had helped in a similar situation earlier. The Elephantine papyrus breaks off at this point due to material damage, but as the plot scheme known from the younger versions indicate the vindication of the innocent courtier is to be assumed for the Aramaic Ahiqar as well.53 The combination of a narrative and a poetic part is known also in the younger versions of Ahiqar. While the narrative is quite fixed regarding its content (the younger versions tend to a more detailed narration with addition of episodes),54 the corpus of wisdom sayings is individual to the respective traditions, though they share features that are common to wisdom collections in the Ancient Near East in general.55 Since its excavation Ahiqar is assumed to be the literature of the Judeans in Elephantine.56 As the Judean group and its religion was interpreted against the background of the Hebrew bible, the extant literature of Elephantine was as well. Indeed, it is close to draw a line between this composition and biblical literature. 52 

Edited by Conybeare/Rendel Harris/Smith Lewis, Story of Aḥiḳar; Denis, Introduction, 993–1036 presents an overview of all known manuscripts; Küchler, Frühjüdische Weisheitstraditionen, 319–414 and Contini/Grottanelli, “Introduzione,” 11–90 discuss individual traditions in more detail; the Demotic fragments are recently discussed by Quack, “Die demotischen Fragmente,” 265–300. 53  For a brief summary of this discussion see Bledsoe, Wisdom in Distress, 132–136. 54  Strugnell, “Development,” 204*. 55 Weigl Achikar-Sprüche, 723–733. 56  Kratz, “Aḥiqar and Bisitun,” 301–303 briefly introduces into the research history of this question.

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In fact, although Ahiqar does not belong to biblical literature and has no Judean background, the composition has become a “permanent guest”57 in Hebrew Bible study. 3.1  Ahiqar and Biblical Wisdom Literature The Ahiqar composition shares motive parallels, compositional, and formal aspects with the wisdom literature of the Hebrew Bible. The sayings find their parallels mainly in the Book of Proverbs, Qohelet, Ben Sira, Job, and the narrative part in the court tales in Tobit, Daniel, Ester, Josef in Gen 37:39–50, and Judith. The sayings of Ahiqar exhibit a wide variety in form, style and content.58 In his comprehensive study Michael Weigl presents a classification of the different types of sayings and brings them together with their counterparts in biblical and extra-biblical literature.59 Here, I will only present a few paradigmatic cases to get an impression of how the wisdom of Ahiqar (TAD C1.1) can be read against the background of the better-known biblical wisdom. However, the Ahiqar sayings also feature riddles and fables, types of sayings that are not found in the biblical sapiential corpora. TAD C1.1:80 and TAD C1.1:141 show close parallels to Prov 27:1 and Prov 25:9–10 respectively treating general sapiential issues like dealing with time, keeping of secrets, and means of education. Prov 27:1 Ahiqar TAD C1.1:8060 ‫בר[י] אל תל[ו]ט יומא ﬠד תחזה[ לי]לה‬ ‫ׂא־ת ַדﬠ ַמה־ּיֵ ֶלד יֹום׃‬ ֵ ‫אל־ּת ְת ַה ֵּלל ְּביֹום ָמ ָחר ִּכי ל‬ ִ [My] son, do not d[a]mn the day until Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do you see[ nig]ht. not know what a day may bring forth. Ahiqar TAD C1.1:141 Prov 25:9–10 ‫[מסתר]יך אל תגלי קדם [רח]מיך אל יקל שמך‬ ‫ַאל־ּתגָ ל׃ ֶּפֽן־יְ ַח ֶּס ְדָך‬ ְ ‫ַאחר‬ ֵ ‫ת־ר ֶﬠָך ְוסֹוד‬ ֵ ‫ִר ְיבָך ִריב ֶא‬

‫קדמיהם‬

Your [secret]s do not reveal before your [fri]ends; let your name not be light before them.

57 

‫ׁש ֵֹמ ַﬠ ְו ִד ָּב ְתָך ל ׂא ָתׁשּוב׃‬

Debate your case with your neighbor, and do not disclose the secret to another; Lest he who hears it expose your shame, And your reputation be ruined.

“geachteter und geliebter Dauergast,” Mathys, “Achämenidenhof,” 294. Bledsoe, Wisdom in Distress, 140–175, who refers to Weigl’s study in large parts of his discussion. 59 Weigl Achikar-Sprüche, for the classification of the types of sayings see esp. 544–580. For a location of the Ahiqar sayings in their literary context see also the older studies of Lindenberger, Proverbs and Küchler, Frühjüdische Weisheitstraditionen, 381–412, to which also Weigl refers. 60  Text and translation of Ahiqar follows Porten/Yardeni, TAD, vol. 3, 24–57. 58  See

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Prov 23:13

Ahiqar TAD C1.1:176

‫אל תהחשך ברך מן חטר הןלו לא תכהל‬ ]… ‫תהנצלנה[י‬ ׄ

‫י־ת ֶּכּנּו ַב ֵּׁש ֶבט ל ׂא יָ מּות׃‬ ַ ‫מּוסר ִּכ‬ ָ ‫ַאל־ּת ְמנַ ﬠ ִמּנַ ַﬠר‬ ִ

Do not withhold your son from (the) rod. Do not withhold correction from a child, If not, you will not be able to save hi[m for if you beat him with a rod, he will not …]. die.

In other cases, the sayings are not similar in a formal sense, but share motive parallels. In TAD C1.1:82, Prov 26:2 and Qoh 10:20 a word is compared to a bird and is thus characterized as something that on the one hand passes quickly and on the other hand can quickly be out of control. In TAD C1.1:89–90 and in Prov 25:15 the motive of a gentle tongue that breaks bones is connected to the ruler. Prov 26:2 Ahiqar TAD C1.1:82 ]‫לב[ב‬ ׄ ‫כי צנפר הי מלה ומשלחה גבר לא‬ ‫ַּכ ִּצּפֹור ָלנּוד ַּכ ְּדרֹור ָלﬠּוף ֵּכן ִק ְל ַלת ִחּנָ ם ל ׂא ָתבֹא׃‬ For a bird is a word and he who sends it Like a flitting sparrow, like a flying swallow, forth is a person of no hea[rt] so a curse without cause shall not alight. Qoh 10:20

‫ַאל־ּת ַק ֵּלל ְּוב ַח ְד ֵרי ִמ ְׁש ָּכ ְבָך‬ ְ ‫ּגַ ם ְּב ַמ ָּד ֲﬠָך ֶמ ֶלְך‬ ‫ת־הּקֹול‬ ַ ‫יֹוליְך ֶא‬ ִ ‫ַאל־ּת ַק ֵּלל ָﬠ ִׁשיר ִּכי ﬠֹוף ַה ָּׁש ַמיִ ם‬ ְ ‫ַּוב ַﬠל ַה ְּכנָ ַפיִ ם יַ ּגֵ יד ָּד ָבר׃‬ Do not curse the king, even in your thought; Do not curse the rich, even in your bedroom; For a bird of the air may carry your voice, And a bird in flight may tell the matter. Ahiqar TAD C1.1:89–90 Prov 25:15 ]‫רכיך לשן מ[לך] וﬠלﬠי תנין יתבר כמותא זי [ל‬ ‫ַאּפיִ ם יְ ֻפ ֶּתה ָק ִצין ְו ָלׁשֹון ַר ָּכה ִּת ְׁש ָּבר־ּגָ ֶרם׃‬ ַ ‫ְּבא ֶֹרְך‬

‫א מתחזה ׃‬

Soft is the tongue of a k[ing] but the ribs of a dragon it will break like death which is [n]ot seen.

By long forbearance a ruler is persuaded, And a gentle tongue breaks a bone.

A prominent sapiential means to emphasize one crucial aspect of the instruction is expressing it in a numerical saying. This figure appears several times in the Hebrew Bible and also once in the Aramaic Ahiqar sayings:61

61 On the basis of the numerical saying in the Ahiqar corpus Rüger, “Zahlensprüche,” 229–234 develops a textcritical argumentation about the appearance of the numerical sayings in the Masoretic text of the Hebrew Bible.

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Ahiqar TAD C1.1:187–188

‫תרתין מלן שפירה וזי תלתא רחימה לשמש‬‎ ‫ש[תה] חמרא ויניקנהי כבש חכמה[…]וישמﬠ‬ ‫מלה ולא יהחוה‬ Two things are beautiful and (that) which is three is beloved by Shamash: (one who) d[rinks] the wine and pours it out as libation; (one who) masters wisdom and (one who) will hear a thing and will not tell (it). *

Prov 6:16–19

‫ּתֹוﬠבֹות נַ ְפ ֽׁשֹו ֵﬠינַ יִ ם‬ ֲ ‫הוה ְו ֶׁש ַבﬠ‬ ָ ְ‫ׁשׁש־הּנָ ה ָׂשנֵ א י‬ ֵ ‫ָרמֹות ְלׁשֹון ָׁש ֶקר ְויָ ַדיִ ם ׁש ְֹפכֹות ָּדם־נָ ִקי׃ ֵלב ח ֵֹרׁש‬ ‫יח‬ ַ ‫ָאון ַרגְ ַליִ ם ְמ ַמ ֲהרֹות ָלרּוץ ָל ָר ָﬠה׃ יָ ִפ‬ ֶ ‫ַמ ְח ְׁשבֹות‬ ‫ַאחים׃‬ ִ ‫ּומ ַׁש ֵּל ַח ְמ ָדנִ ים ֵּבין‬ ְ ‫ְּכזָ ִבים ֵﬠד ָׁש ֶקר‬ These six things the LORD hates, Yes, seven are an abomination to Him: A proud look, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that are swift in running to evil, a false witness who speaks lies, And one who sows discord among brethren.

Ahiqar TAD C1.1:178 is formally similar to Prov 26:3 as the sayings have a parallelized threefold structure that implies an intensification towards the third element of the saying: Ahiqar TAD C1.1:178

‫מחאה לﬠלים כאיׄ ה לחנת אף לכל ﬠבדיך‬ ]‫אלפ[ן‬ ׄ A stroke for a slave-lad, a rebuke for a slave-lass; moreover, for all your slaves discip[line].

Prov 26:3

‫ׁשֹוט ַלּסּוס ֶמ ֶתג ַל ֲחמֹור ְו ֗ ֵׁש ֶבט ְלגֵ ו ְּכ ִס ִילים׃‬ A whip for the horse, a bridle for the donkey, and a rod for the fool’s back.

The provenance and time of composition of the Ahiqar sayings is not certain and also biblical wisdom shows an overall globalized character; assumptions about literary dependencies cannot reliably be conducted.62 These methodological reservations notwithstanding, the parallels between biblical wisdom and Ahiqar wisdom show that these literatures have at least had part in the same cultural echo chamber. 3.2  Ahiqar and (Biblical) Court Novels One reason why Ahiqar has been treated as “Jewish” literature for a long time is the adaption of the Ahiqar story in the biblical book of Tobit. There, Ahiqar is displayed as Tobit’s nephew which makes him a Jewish courtier at the Assyrian court and blends him into the biblical narratives of wise Jews succeeding at foreign royal courts like Daniel, Esther, Joseph and Judith.63 The Aramaic fragments of 4Q550 Tales of the Persian Court feature a narrative cycle of similar content as well.64 These narratives are connected by a similar plot scheme: The 62 

See also Küchler, Frühjüdische Weisheitstraditionen, 380; Weigl Achikar-Sprüche, 737 f.

63 Burt, Courtier, 113–116 also names the book of Nehemiah and 3 Esd 3–4; Raup Johnson,

Historical Fictions discusses also Tobit, 2 Maccabees, 3 Maccabees and the Letter of Aristeas. 64  In a first edition Milik, “Modèles” assumed these fragments could be a proto version of the book of Esther. This identification is not supported anymore. Wechsler, “Two Para-Biblical



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protagonist experiences a development of status in a diaspora situation and is depicted as exceptionally wise.65 At some point of the story the protagonist (or the entire Jewish people) is endangered by an antagonist’s conspiracy.66 In the end the (Jewish) hero(ine) is saved with divine help and vindicated into the former position.67 Historically the setting of theses narratives may reflect their historical background as Jewish groups had to arrange with living in a Persian or Hellenistic dominated society. The texts deliver a certain ideal of conduct in diaspora situation, which is applicable not only for Jewish groups as can be seen in the Ahiqar tradition.68 Rather, Ahiqar and the biblical diaspora novels are part of a greater group of narratives that focus on a prominent person at a royal court. They have different cultural backgrounds, but as a matter of fact accumulate in Persian and Hellenistic times,69 reflecting the experience of changing foreign rule.70 Therefore the protagonist’s ethnicity is a crucial issue in those stories. Unlike other narratives, in which the reversal of power can transport subversive messages,71 Ahiqar focuses on the sapiential logic of the hero’s fate which is loyalty to the (foreign) king. In this alignment it is close to the biblical narratives. Additionally, the combination with the wisdom sayings emphasizes its sapiential character. 3.3  Loyalty Towards the Foreign Ruler: Ahiqar and Bisutun We saw that there are links in content and form between Ahiqar and biblical literature. This proximity was traditionally construed in a twofold way: On the one hand, there was this Judean community which was perceived as a diaspora echo to the biblical display of Yahwistic groups. Thus, this group was supposed to have a comparative cult and a scripture with normative character. And since they probably did not know the Bible (or parts of it),72 Ahiqar could serve as a Novellae,” 138–140 and Crawford, “4QTales,” 131–132 could show that it is rather the general structure than the specific content that connects these Aramaic narratives from Qumran with texts like Esther and Ahiqar. 65 Humphreys “Life-Style”; Collins, “Court-Tales”; Meinhold, “Gattung.” 66 Humphreys “Life-Style,” 219. 67 Meinhold “Gattung,” 311–320. 68 Humphreys “Life-Style,” 211–213. 69  Starting from genre-critical considerations to the biblical Daniel Narratives Holm, Courtiers and Kings shows how motives of court tales draw through a wide range of texts starting from genre-critical considerations to the biblical Daniel Narratives. Although this literature often treats a foreign courtier at a Babylonian or Assyrian court, there are no documented independent literary pieces of this genre from this region, see Holm, Courtiers and Kings, 75. Grottanelli, “Ancient Novel” presents narratives with a similar plot scheme from Hellenistic literature. 70 Gnuse, “Prison,” 39–40. 71 Gnuse, “Prison,” 44 summarizes the texts as “literature of resistance.” 72 Knauf, “Elephantine,” 179–188; Kratz, “Zwischen Elephantine und Qumran,” 133; Grabbe, “Elephantine and the Torah,” 134.

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“substitute” literature. On the other hand, Ahiqar was interpreted against the background of biblical literature. However, neither the sayings nor the narrative feature Yahwism or any religious reference connected to it, which would, after all, be the integrative element of biblical literature.73 Moreover, there were no archeological findings of biblical literature in Elephantine, so the actual recipients of Ahiqar in Persian times would probably not have made the same references we make.74 Rather, the narrative blends in well into a literary fashion of Persian and Hellenistic times75 and in combination with the sayings reflects the spirit of Achaemenid times.76 The function of the Ahiqar composition was not so much religious for the Judeans in Elephantine, but rather part of a political instruction. This can be shown when looking at the attitude towards the person of the king, presented in it. Achiqar is the archetype of a loyal courtier. He shows how an Aramean at the Assyrian court would not only somehow comes to terms with his position, but more than that becomes a respected and successful part of the royal system. Even when he is falsely accused and in danger of being executed, he still holds on to his loyalty towards the (foreign) king. He says to the official who is sent by Esarhaddon to execute him: TAD C1.1:53–54

Esarhaddon the King is merciful, as known. At last, he will remember me and my counsel he will seek. The[n], you will present me to him and he will let me live.”

‫אסרחאדן מלכא רחמן הו כמנדﬠ‬ ‫ﬠלאחרן יזכרני וﬠטתי יבﬠה‬ ‫אח[ר ]אנת ׄת ׄק ׄרבני ﬠלוהי‬ ׄ ‫ויהחיני‬

53 54

The Aramaic Ahiqar features a set of sayings that focus on the king and the attitude of common man to the ruler. TAD C1.1:84–92*

Do not cover (= ignore) the word of a king; let it be healing [for] your hea[rt] Soft is the speech of a king (yet) it is sharper and mightier than a [double-]edged knife See before you a hard thing: [against] the face of a k[in]g do not stand. His rage is swifter than lightning. You, watch yourself.

‫אל תכסה מלת מלך רפאה תהוי‬ ‫[ללב]בך׃ רכיך ממלל מלך שדק‬ ]‫וﬠזיז הו מן סכין פמיׄ [ן‬

Let him not show it because of your sayings and you go not in your days

ׄ ‫אל יחזׄ נׄ הי ﬠל‬ ]‫אמריך ותהך [ו‬

73 Granerød,

84

]‫‏חזי קדמתך מנדﬠם קשה [ﬠל‬‎ 85 ‫ׄאנפי מ[ל] ׄך אל תקום זﬠיר‬

‫כצפה מן ברק אנת אשתמר לך‬ ׄ

‫לא ביומיך‬

86

Dimensions, 1. For a more detailed intertextual approach towards the Ahiqar composition see Wigand, Achikar in Elephantine, 20–22, 200–208. 75  See Holm, Courtiers and Kings. 76  Mathys, “Achämenidenhof,” 296–297; Wigand, “Politische Loyalität,” 139–146. 74 

167

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[See the go]od of a king. If (something) is commanded to you, it is a burning fire. Hurry, do it. Do not kindle (it) against you and (do not) cover your palms. [More]over, (do) the word of the king with heat/ delight of the heart [H]ow can wood contest with fire, flesh with knife, man with k[ing]? Soft is the tongue of a k[ing] but the ribs of a dragon it will break like death which is [n]ot seen A king is like (the) Merciful; moreover, his voice i[s] high. Who is there who can stand before him but (he) with whom El is? Beautiful is the king to see like (the) sun (OR: Shamash) and precious is his glory to (them that) tread the earth (as) f[ree] men (OR: in tran[quility]).

‫[חזי ט] ׄבת מלך הן פקיד לך ׄאשה‬ ‫יקדה הי ﬠבק ﬠבדהיׄ ׄאל תהנשק‬ ] [‫ﬠליך ותכסה כפיך‬

87

‫בחמד לבבא ׃‬ ׄ ‫[א]ף מלת מלך‬ ‫[מ]ה ישפטון ﬠקן ﬠם אשה בשר‬ ]‫ﬠם סכין איש ﬠם מ[לך‬

88

]‫ רכיך לשן מ[לך‬89* ]‫* וﬠלﬠי תנין יתבר כמותא זי [ל‬90

‫א מתחזה ׃‬

]‫מלך כרחמן אף קלה גבה ה[ו‬‎ 91

‫מן הו זי יקום קדמוהי להן זי‬ ‫אל ﬠמה‬ ‫שפיר מלך למחזה כשמש ויקיר‬‎ 92 ]‫הדרה לדרכי ארקא בניח[רן‬

This topic is exceptional for the Aramaic version of the Ahiqar sayings and does not appear in the younger versions. Especially in the context of Elephantine, where officials from multiple ethnicities serve in the administrative system of a foreign king, these sayings complement the narrative perfectly.77 Unlike the narrative, these royal proverbs are not specific for one court or king, rather there are various possibilities of identification.78 Together with the narrative and its propagated loyalty towards the king it opens a hermeneutical space that is accessible from various perspectives, e. g. the Persian royal ideology. Ahiqar could be read as a literary expression of the Persian claim of loyalty towards the foreign officials within the Achaemenid system. This becomes even clearer when we focus on Elephantine as place of excavation and presumed place of reception. Because biblical scholarship put the emphasis so strongly on the parallels between Ahiqar and biblical literature, the literary connections to the literature in the immediate context were disguised. In fact, there was another written piece of non-documentary character besides Ahiqar found in Elephantine: An Aramaic version of the Bisutun inscription.79 In the original trilingual inscription in Elamite, Persian and Babylonian at a rock in Bisutun, Darius I. presents himself as legitimate ruler and praises his power and the universal character of his kingship. As a matter of fact, Darius did reign over a huge empire, merging many nations and peoples under one rule. In the inscription he describes his successful campaigns and how the peoples surrendered loyally to the new king (and how those who did not were punished severely). The Aramaic version on papyrus of this famous example of 77 

Kratz, “Aḥiqar and Bisitun,” 306–308, 310–312. Achikar in Elephantine, 99–108. 79  Published by Porten/Yardeni, TAD, vol. 3, 60–71 (TAD C2.1). 78 Wigand,

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Persian royal propaganda has found its way to Upper Egypt for didactic reasons. It served to instruct the diaspora apparatus of the Achaemenid king in loyalty towards the remote ruler.80 Both texts, Ahiqar and Bisutun appear as literary manifestations of the demand for political loyalty in the foreign realm. At Elephantine they have been read together as instruction texts. The political dimension is more explicitly rendered in Bisutun, but in its light, the rather implicit political message in the wisdom text of Ahiqar becomes more specific: The Persian ruler, who presents himself in the royal inscription, becomes an alternative example to the Assyrian kings of the Ahiqar narrative which can be used to illustrate the rather abstract sapiential proverbs of Ahiqar. In the environment of Persian dominance this interpretation might be closer than the actual image of Assyrian rule that none of the readers have experienced themselves. And also, the other way round the courtier perspective the Ahiqar narrative takes and the thereby developed personal experience that loyalty to the foreign king pays off in the end, makes the message of the Bisutun inscription more tangible.81 For the multiethnic recipients of Elephantine these pieces of literature have a message that is valid beyond any ethnic affiliation. Basically, every person in Persian service, no matter if Aramean, Egyptian, Judean can succeed when following the instruction. 3.4  Ahiqar and Egyptian Literature Drawing the context a little wider than the island Elephantine, we see that the literary form of Ahiqar, combining a narrative frame with sapiential proverbs is known in genuine Egyptian literature, such as in the Teaching of Ptahotep and the Demotic Teaching of Ankhsheshonqy. Similarities between the latter and Ahiqar have been examined in some studies already.82 The story is set at the court of Pharao. Like Ahiqar, Ankhsheshonqy is a wise man who gets imprisoned after getting knowledge of a plot against the king planned by a friend of his, a courtier of Pharao and not disclosing it to the ruler. The proverbs of Ankhsheshonqy show direct correspondences in particular with the younger Syrian version of Ahiqar,83 which has led to assumptions about mutual influence.84 Of course, a literary influence does not apply for the older Aramaic Elephantine version of Ahiqar, but becomes more plausible when we take the younger Demotic ver80 

For a more detailed discussion see Wigand Achikar in Elephantine, 116–119, 122–123. Wigand, “Politische Loyalität,” 139–146; Kratz, “Mille Ahiqar,” 52. 82 Lichtheim, Late Egyptian Wisdom Literature, 13–21; Ryholt, “Onch-Sheshonqy,” 119–120; Betrò, “Achiqar in Egitto,” 184–187; Quack, “Interaction,” 385–388; Houser Wegner, Demotic Instructions, 195–208; Wigand, Achikar in Elephantine, 164–169. 83 Lichtheim, Late Egyptian Wisdom Literature, 13–22; Quack, “Interaction,” 380–386; Wigand, Achikar in Elephantine, 166–167. 84 Lichtheim, Late Egyptian Wisdom Literature, 21–22; Houser Wegner, Demotic Instructions, 191–208 argues against it. 81 

The Judean Group of Elephantine



169

sion of Ahiqar into account. Joachim F. Quack has shown that the connection between the two traditions can not only be drawn formally and by content, but apparently also in the manuscripts themselves. It seems that the same scribe (or at least scribes of the same school) has been writing both a manuscript with proverbs that can be assigned to Ankhsheshonqy (P. Berlin 15709) and a manuscript presumably featuring Demotic wisdom of Ahiqar (P. Berlin 15658).85 This shows that in Ptolemaic time at the latest, there was a common reception of both Ahiqar and Ankhsheshonqy in Egypt. The accurate description of Saitic time supports the possibility that at least parts of the Ankhsheshonqy tradition is older than the extant Ptolemaic manuscripts.86 Ahiqar was circulating in Egypt in Persian times for sure, so it could have been known in similar circles in which also Ankhsheshonqy was transmitted already before the abovementioned Papyri have been written and transmitted. In general, the Demotic Ahiqar demonstrates that the Ahiqar material became rooted in Egypt and had impact on Egyptian cultural production.87 These few examples of interaction of the Ahiqar tradition with its literary context in Egypt show that Ahiqar that was principally described as literature of the Judeans is well perceived in the wider environment as well and its ideological outreach must not be considered solely in the geographical realm of Yehud.

4. Conclusion The Judeans were an integral part of the multiethnic community at Elephantine. They lived their lives according to the political and social circumstances of their surroundings. They practiced their Yahwistic religion with elements comparable to what we know from biblical evidence. The cult in their proper temple at the island, however, was presumably neither identical with what is described for the Jerusalem temple nor does it correspond to the requirements formulated in the Hebrew Bible. Requests concerning the form of their religious life in the temple would be placed to the respective addressees within the Persian system of administration and not to a central religious authority in Jerusalem. Looking at the literature of Elephantine, such as the Aramaic Ahiqar composition and the Bisutun inscription supports the assessment that the Judeans should not be perceived as a group socially and ideologically dependent on a normative “Judeanness” propagated in Jerusalem. We do not know about Biblical books known to them and also, as we saw above, Ahiqar was not a substitute transmitting the biblical message in a new dress. 85 

Quack, “Die demotischen Fragmente,” 283. Quack, “Chronologie,” 338–339, 342. 87 Wigand, Achikar in Elephantine, 187–191. 86 

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In the book of Tobit, we can trace how the message of the Ahiqar material was obviously topical, influenced biblical literature directly, and thus the hero was Judaized. Parallels are also found in the wisdom literature of the Hebrew Bible. Yet, the same also applies for Egyptian literary production. The message of Ahiqar was connectable for Egyptian readers as well. The teaching of Ankhsheshonqy and the Demotic version of Ahiqar are examples of this. Moreover, the Judeans at Elephantine did not read Ahiqar for explicitly religious reasons. The coexistence of Ahiqar and Bisutun suggest their reception in an instructive context with a clearly political agenda. In line with this interpretation and contextualization of the literature of Elephantine, we should also look at the Judean group. Without doubt there can be lines drawn to ideological and religious motives of the Hebrew bible. But from the documents we know from Elephantine the Judeans appear to act naturally in the system they live in. I suggest that if we want to get an impression about the Judeans of Elephantine, we should start by looking at them within their direct context of living: the Persian ruled, multiethnic cohabitation in Egypt.

Bibliography Becking, B., “Die Gottheiten der Juden auf Elephantine,” in: Der eine Gott und die Götter: Polytheismus und Monotheismus im antiken Israel (ed. M. Oeming/K. Schmid; ATANT 82; Zürich, 2003), 203–226. –, “Yehudite Identity in Elephantine,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period: Negotiating Identity in an International Context, (ed. O. Lipschits/​G. N. Knop­ pers/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2011), 403–419. –, “Centre, Periphery, and Interference: Notes on the ‘Passover/Mazzot’-Letter from Elephantine,” in: Centres and Peripheries in the Early Second Temple Period (ed. E. Ben Zvi/C. Levin; FAT 108; Tübingen, 2016), 65–78. –, “The Other Groups That Were: Some Remarks on Different Minor Ethnicities in Persian Period Elephantine,” Journal for Semitics 26 (2017): 820–848. –, “‘That Evil Act’. A Thick Description of the Crisis around the Demolition of the Temple of Yahô at Elephantine,” in: Elephantine in Context: Studies on the History, Religion and Literature of the Judeans in Persian Period Egypt (ed. R. G. Kratz/B. U. Schipper; FAT 155; Tübingen, 2022), 184–208. Betrò, M. C., “La tradizione di Achiqar in Egitto,” in: Il saggio Ahiqar: Fortuna e trasformazioni di uno scritto sapienziale. Il testo più antico e le sue versioni (ed. R. Contini/C. Grottanelli; StudBib 148; Brescia, 2005), 177–191. Bledsoe, S. A., Wisdom in Distress: A Literary and Socio-Historical Approach to the Aramaic Book of Ahiqar (Ph.D. Diss; Tallahassee, FL, 2015). Bolin, T. M., “The Temple of ‫ יהו‬at Elephantine and Persian Religious Policy,” in: The Triumph of Elohim: From Yahwisms to Judaisms (ed. D. V. Edelman; CBET 13; Kampen, 1995), 127–142. Botta, A. F., “Elephantine,” EBR 7 (2013), 648–651.



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Briant, P., “Ethno-classe dominante et populations soumises dans l’empire achéménide. Le cas de l’Egypte,” in: Method and Theory: Proceedings of the 1985 London Achaemenid History Workshop (ed. A. Kuhrt/H. Sancisi-Weerdenburg; AchH 3; Leiden, 1988), 137–174. Burt, S., The Courtier and the Governor: Transformations of Genre in the Nehemiah Memoir (JAJSup 17; Göttingen, 2014). Collins, J. J., “The Court-Tales in Daniel and the Development of Apocalyptic,” JBL 94 (1975): 218–234. Contini, R./Grottanelli, C., “Introduzione,” in: Il saggio Ahiqar: Fortuna e trasformazioni di uno scritto sapienziale. Il testo più antico e le sue versioni (ed. R. Contini/C. Grottanelli; StudBib 148; Brescia, 2005), 11–90. Conybeare, F. C./Rendel Harris, J./Smith Lewis, A. (ed.), The Story of Aḥiḳar from Aramaic, Syriac, Arabic, Armenian, Ethiopic, Old Turkish, Greek and Slavonic Versions = Tašʿītā d-Aḥīqār, 2nd ed. (Cambridge, 1913). Cornell, C./Strawn, B. A., “Is Judean Religion at Elephantine a Pidgin? Reassessing Its Relationship to Its Antecedents and Congener,” in: Elephantine in Context: Studies on the History, Religion and Literature of the Judeans in Persian Period Egypt (ed. R. G. Kratz/B. U. Schipper; FAT 155; Tübingen, 2022), 153–182. Cowley, A. E., Aramaic Papyri of the Fifth Century B. C. (Oxford, 1923). Crawford, S. W., “4QTales of the Persian Court (4Q550a–e) and its Relation to Biblical Royal Courtier Tales,” in: The Bible as Book: The Hebrew Bible and the Judaean Desert Discoveries (ed. E. D. Herbert/E. Tov; London, 2002), 121–137. Denis, A.‑M., Introduction à la littérature religieuse judéo-hellénistique, 2 vols. (Turnhout, 2000). Edelman, D. V., “Introduction,” in: The Triumph of Elohim: From Yahwisms to Judaisms (ed. D. V. Edelman; CBET 13; Kampen, 1995), 15–25. Gnuse, R., “From Prison to Prestige: The Hero Who Helps a King in Jewish and Greek Literature,” CBQ 72 (2010): 31–45. Grabbe, L. L., “Elephantine and the Torah,” in: In the Shadow of Bezalel: Aramaic, Biblical and Ancient Near Eastern Studies in the Honor of Bezalel Porten (ed. A. Botta; CHANE 60; Leiden, 2013), 125–135. Granerød, G., Dimensions of Yahwism in the Persian Period: Studies in the Religion and Society of the Judaean Community at Elephantine (BZAW 488; Berlin, 2016). Grassi, G. F., “‘Do We Know the Arameans?’ (SAA 17,176): The Use of Ethnonyms in the Aramaic Documents from Egypt,” in: Elephantine in Context: Studies on the History, Religion and Literature of the Judeans in Persian Period Egypt (ed. R. G. Kratz/B. U. Schipper; FAT 155; Tübingen, 2022), 3–34. Grimme, H., “Die Jahotriade von Elephantine,” OLZ 15 (1912): 11–17. Grottanelli, C., “The Ancient Novel and Biblical Narrative,” Quaderni Urbinati di Cultura Classica, NS 27 (1987): 7–34. Holm, T. L., Of Courtiers and Kings: The Biblical Daniel Narratives and Ancient StoryCollections (EANEC 1; Winona Lake, 2013). Honroth, W./Rubensohn, O./Zucker, F., “Bericht über die Ausgrabungen auf Elephantine in den Jahren 1906–1908,” ZÄS 45–46 (1910): 162–209. Hoonacker, A. van, Une Communauté Judéo-Araméenne à Éléphantine, en Égypte, aux VIe et Ve Siècles av. J.-C (Schweich Lectures; London, 1914). Houser Wegner, J. R., Cultural and Literary Continuity in the Demotic Instructions (Ph.D. diss.; New Haven, 2001).

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Humphreys, W. L., “A Life-Style For Diaspora: A Study of the Tales of Esther and Daniel,” JBL 92 (1973): 211–223. Knauf, E. A., “Elephantine und das vor-biblische Judentum,” in: Religion und Religionskontakte im Zeitalter der Achämeniden (ed. R. G. Kratz; VWGTh 22; Gütersloh, 2002), 179–188. Kratz, R. G., “Zwischen Elephantine und Qumran: Das Alte Testament im Rahmen des antiken Judentums,” in: Congress Volume Ljubljana 2007 (ed. A. Lemaire; VTSup 133; Leiden, 2010), 129–146. –, “Der Zweite Tempel zu Jeb und zu Jerusalem,” in: Das Judentum im Zeitalter des Zweiten Tempels, 2nd ed. (ed. R. G. Kratz; FAT 42; Tübingen, 2013), 60–78. –, “Aḥiqar and Bisitun: The Literature of the Judeans at Elephantine,” in: Elephantine in Context: Studies on the History, Religion and Literature of the Judeans in Persian Period Egypt (ed. R. G. Kratz/B. U. Schipper; FAT 155; Tübingen, 2022), 301–322. Krekeler, A., Stadtgrabung am Westkôm von Elephantine. Stadtentwicklung und Bauten vom Neuen Reich bis in die Römerzeit (Ph.D. diss.; Hannover, 1998). Küchler, M., Frühjüdische Weisheitstraditionen: Zum Fortgang weisheitlichen Denkens im Bereich des frühjüdischen Jahweglaubens (OBO 26; Freiburg [Schweiz], 1979). Lichtheim, M., Late Egyptian Wisdom Literature in the International Context: A Study of Demotic Instructions (OBO 52; Freiburg [Schweiz], 1983). Lindenberger, J., The Aramaic Proverbs of Ahiqar (JHNES; Baltimore, 1983). Lozachmeur, H., La collection Clermont-Ganneau: Ostraca, épigraphes sur jarre étiquettes de bois, 2 vols. (MAIBL 35; Paris, 2006). Mathys, H.‑P., “Der Achämenidenhof im Alten Testament,” in: Der Achämenidenhof: Akten des 2. Internationalen Kolloquiums zum Thema “ Vorderasien im Spannungsfeld Klassischer und Altorientalischer Überlieferungen” 23.–25. Mai 2007 (ed. B. Jacobs/R. Rollinger; Classica et Orientalia 2; Wiesbaden, 2010), 231–308. Meinhold, A., “Die Gattung der Josephsgeschichte und des Estherbuches. Diasporanovelle I–II,” ZAW 87 (1975): 306–324; ZAW 88 (1976): 72–93. Meyer, E., Der Papyrusfund von Elephantine: Dokumente einer jüdischen Gemeinde aus der Perserzeit und das älteste erhaltene Buch der Weltliteratur (Leipzig, 1912; repr. Saarbrücken, 2008). Milik, J. T., “Les Modèles Araméens du Livre d’Esther dans la Grotte 4 de Qumrân,” RevQ 15 (1992): 321–399. Müller, W., Die Papyrusgrabung auf Elephantine 1906–1908: Das Grabungstagebuch der 1. und 2. Kampagne (FuB 20; Berlin, 1980), 75–88. –, Die Papyrusgrabung auf Elephantine 1906–1908: Das Grabungstagebuch der 3. Kampagne (FuB 22; Berlin, 1982), 7–50. Pilgrim, C. von, “XII. Der Tempel des Jahwe,” MDAIK 55 (1999): 142–145. –, “Tempel des Jahu und ‘Straße des Königs’ – Ein Konflikt in der späten Perserzeit auf Elephantine,” in: Egypt, Temple of the Whole World: Studies in Honour of Jan Assmann (ed. S. Meyer; SHR 97; Leiden, 2003), 303–317. –, “Elephantine  – (Festungs-)Stadt am Ersten Katarakt,” in: Cities and Urbanism in Ancient Egypt: Papers from a Workshop in November 2006 at the Austrian Academy of Sciences (ed. M. Bietak/E. Czerny/I. Forstner-Müller; UZKÖAI 35; Wien, 2010), 257–270. –, “Die ‘Festung von Elephantine’ in der Spätzeit – Anmerkungen zum archäologischen Befund,” in: In the Shadow of Bezalel: Aramaic, Biblical and Ancient Near Eastern



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Studies in the Honor of Bezalel Porten (ed. A. Botta; CHANE 60; Leiden, 2013), 203– 208. Porten, B., “Elephantine Papyri,” ABD 2 (1992), 445–455. –/ Yardeni, A., Textbook of Aramaic Documents from Ancient Egypt. I. Letters (Winona Lake, 1986) [= TAD A]. –/ Yardeni, A., Textbook of Aramaic Documents from Ancient Egypt. II. Contracts (Winona Lake, 1989) [= TAD B]. –/ Yardeni, A., Textbook of Aramaic Documents from Ancient Egypt. III. Literature, Accords, Lists (Winona Lake, 1993) [= TAD C]. –/ Yardeni, A., Textbook of Aramaic Documents from Ancient Egypt. IV. Ostraca and Assorted Inscriptions (Winona Lake, 1999) [= TAD D]. Quack, J. F., “Zur Chronologie der demotischen Weisheitsliteratur,” in: Acts of the Seventh International Conference of Demotic Studies. Copenhagen, 23–27 August 1999 (ed. K. Ryholt; CNIP 27; Copenhagen, 2002) 329–342. –, “The Interaction of Egyptian and Aramaic Literature,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Achaemenid Period: Negotiating Identity in an International Context (ed. O. Lipschits/G. N. Knoppers/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2011), 375–401. –, “Die demotischen Fragmente der Erzählung und Sprüche des Achiqar,” in: Elephantine in Context: Studies on the History, Religion and Literature of the Judeans in Persian Period Egypt (ed. R. G. Kratz/B. U. Schipper; FAT 155; Tübingen, 2022), 265–300. Raup Johnson, S., Historical Fictions and Hellenistic Jewish Identity: Third Maccabees in Its Cultural Context (HCS 43; Berkeley, 2004). Rohrmoser, A., Götter, Tempel und Kult der Judäo-Aramäer von Elephantine: Archäologische und schriftliche Zeugnisse aus dem perserzeitlichen Ägypten (AOAT 396; Münster, 2014). Rüger, H. P., “Die gestaffelten Zahlensprüche des Alten Testaments und aram. Achikar 92,” VT 31 (1981): 229–234. Ryholt, K., “A New Version of the Introduction to the Teachings of Onch-Sheshonqy (P. Carlsberg 304 + PSI inv. D 5 + P. CtYBR 4512 + P. Berlin P 30489),” in: A  Miscellany of Demotic Texts and Studies (ed. P. J. Frandsen/K. Ryholt; Carlsberg Papyri 3; Kopenhagen, 2000), 113–140. Sachau, E., Aramäische Papyrus und Ostraka aus einer jüdischen Militär-Kolonie zu Elephantine. Altorientalische Sprachdenkmäler des 5. Jahrhunderts, 2 vols. (Leipzig, 1911). Sayce, A. H., Aramaic Papyri Discovered at Assuan (with the assistance of A. E. Cowley, and with appendices by W. Spiegelberg and S. de Ricci; London, 1906). Schipper, B. U., “The Judeans/Arameans of Elephantine and Their Religion – An Egyptological Approach,” in: Elephantine in Context: Studies on the History, Religion and Literature of the Judeans in Persian Period Egypt (ed. R. G. Kratz/B. U. Schipper; FAT 155; Tübingen, 2022), 209–236. Schütze, A., “The Standard of Living in the Judean Military Colony at Elephantine in Persian Period Egypt,” Journal of Ancient Egyptian Interconnections 12 (2016): 41–49. –, “Local Administration in Persian Period Egypt According to Aramaic and Demotic Sources,” in: Die Verwaltung im Achämenidenreich – Imperiale Muster und Strukturen: Akten des 6. Internationalen Kolloquiums zum Thema “ Vorderasien im Spannungsfeld klassischer und altorientalischer Überlieferungen” 14.–17. Mai 2013 (ed. B. Jacobs/W. F. M. Henkelman/M. W. Stolper; Classica et Orientalia 17; Wiesbaden, 2017), 489–515. Strugnell, J., “Problems in the Development of the Ahiqar Tale,” ErIsr 26 (1999): 204*–211*.

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Wechsler, M. G, “Two Para-Biblical Novellae from Qumran Cave 4: A Reevaluation of 4Q550,” DSD 7 (2000): 130–172. Weigl, M., Die aramäischen Achikar-Sprüche aus Elephantine und die alttestamentliche Weisheitsliteratur (BZAW 399; Berlin, 2010). Wigand, A., “Politische Loyalität und religiöse Legitimierung. Überlegungen zur Textpragmatik der aramäischen Achiqarkomposition,” WO 48.1 (2018): 128–150. –, Achikar in Elephantine: Die aramäische Achikarkomposition im Kontext des perserzeitlichen Elephantine (ORA 50; Tübingen, 2022).

Gilead in 2 Samuel and the Discourse on Diaspora during the Persian Period Stephen Germany Within the Hebrew Bible, the region of Gilead in northern Transjordan features most prominently in texts with their narrative setting prior to the end of the northern kingdom of Israel (722 BCE). In contrast, references to Gilead (or to northern Transjordan more generally) in biblical texts set in later times are relatively sparse. However, there is good reason to conclude that many of the biblical texts relating to Gilead were written by Judean scribes long after the periods that they portray. In light of this, we can rightly ask what motivated later Judean authors to write about a region that possibly had little historical connections to Judah at the time when many of the texts in question were written. In this essay, I will take the book of 2 Samuel as a case study and will argue that there, Gilead serves above all a symbolic function as part of a discourse on exile and life in the diaspora following the end of the kingdom of Judah in 586 BCE.

1.  Gilead in the Hebrew Bible The geographical definition of Gilead – particularly given the Bible’s different delimitations of this region  – is complex. Historically speaking, the heartland of Gilead seems to have been in the highlands just south of Wadi az-Zarqa (the biblical Yabboq).1 The biblical references to Gilead, however, generally have in view the highlands to the north of Wadi az-Zarqa, as is attested, for example, in the biblical toponyms Jabesh-gilead and Ramoth-gilead. Geographical texts in the Pentateuch and book of Joshua indicate that different biblical scribes had differing views on the extent of Gilead in their mental landscape, such that it is difficult to pin down one “authoritative” definition of biblical Gilead.2 For the present purposes, I will thus err on the side of caution and adopt a fairly broad understanding that encompasses both the highlands immediately to the south of Wadi az-Zarqa and the highlands to the north.

1  2 

See Finkelstein/Koch/Lipschits, “Biblical Gilead,” 150. For further discussion, see Germany, “Scribal Cartography.”

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The biblical discourse on the land of Gilead spans a wide range of texts depicting events at different points along the biblical timeline of Israel’s history. Statistically speaking, most of the references to Gilead or Gileadites occur in the books of Genesis to Kings and are particularly prominent in texts with their narrative setting prior to the fall of the northern kingdom of Israel in 722 BCE.3 In contrast, references to Gilead (or to northern Transjordan more broadly) in texts relating explicitly to the postmonarchic period are relatively sparse, occurring only in a handful of prophetic texts.4 Thus, on the whole, the biblical evidence paints a picture of Gilead as an important region for Israel up to the end of the northern kingdom but which subsequently lost its importance in the wake of the Assyrian deportation of large parts of the northern Israelite population (2 Kgs 15:29; 17:6). Until recently, the possibility that at least some of the biblical narratives referring to Gilead could have been written after the end of the northern kingdom or even in the postmonarchic period was not often considered.5 Nevertheless, as I will argue here, all of the references to Gilead in 2 Samuel appear in narratives that postdate the end of the northern kingdom of Israel, and most also postdate the end of the southern kingdom of Judah.

2.  On the Formation of the Book of Samuel Before turning to the texts themselves, it is useful to explain why I consider a relatively late date of composition for at least some of the materials in the book of Samuel to be plausible. During much of the twentieth century, the prevalent view was that the book of Samuel is comprised of several early, extensive, and originally independent narrative sources, such as a “History of Saul’s Reign” in 1 Sam 9–14, a “History of David’s Rise” in 1 Sam 16–2 Sam 8, and a “Succession Narrative” or “Court History” in 2 Sam 9–20 + 1 Kgs 1–2. Particularly with regard to certain passages in the History of David’s Rise and the Succession Narrative, many interpreters continue to advocate a date of composition during 3  See esp. (1) the Jacob cycle (Gen 31–32), (2) the conquest narratives and related territorial descriptions in the books of Numbers, Deuteronomy, and Joshua (Num 26; 32; Deut 2–3; Josh 12–13; 17; 20–22); (3) the stories of the Judges (Judg 5; 7; 8; 10–12; 20–21), and (4) the narrative of the monarchic period (1 Sam 11; 13; 31; 2 Sam 2; 17–19; 21; 24; 1 Kgs 4; 12; 15; 17; 20; 22; 2 Kgs 8–10; 15). 4 Jer 50:19; Obad 19–21; Zech 10:10 (which announces that Yhwh will settle returned exiles in the land of Gilead and in Lebanon); Mic 7:14. 5  For example, in one of the few monograph-length treatments of biblical Gilead, Magnus Ottosson wrote with respect to the Persian period: “It is difficult to comprehend the situation in Gilead. The texts’ silence about the province is significant” (Ottosson, Gilead, 238). However, Ottosson’s “Historical Survey” of Gilead in the last section of his study basically paraphrases the biblical narrative and does not take into consideration that certain texts could reflect Persianperiod circumstances even if they are set much earlier in time.



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or close to the time of David, and almost always on the basis of the argument that texts in these narrative blocks that depict “embarrassing” aspects of David’s character and actions reflect realities from the life of the historical David that provoked an “apologetic” response by the authors of the David stories.6 In the last two decades, however, the logic of this argument – namely, “If [the David story] is apologetic literature that attempts to disguise events, then the events must be real”7– has rightly been critiqued by a number of scholars.8 Once this line of argumentation is called into question, there is no compelling reason to conclude that the stories about David reflect any actual events in the life of the historical David. Instead, in my view, the basic plotline of David’s succession of Saul as king of Israel in 1 Sam 9–2 Sam 8 (which I call the “Saul-David Narrative”) reflects the historical situation after the fall of the northern kingdom in 722 BCE. In this narrative, Saul represents the northern kingdom of Israel and David the southern kingdom of Judah, such that David’s succession of Saul reflects Judah’s role as Israel’s “successor” after 722 BCE. In light of this literary function of the SaulDavid narrative already from its inception,9 I consider that relatively little textual material in the book of Samuel antedates the late eighth century and that most of the process of the book’s composition is to be situated in the late monarchic and postmonarchic periods.10 This judgment also applies to the so-called Succession Narrative, which is generally seen as encompassing 2 Sam 9–20 + 1 Kgs 1–2. Despite a longstanding tradition of dating the Succession Narrative to the time of David and/or Solomon,11 there are compelling reasons to conclude that large portions of this 6  See, e. g., McCarter, “Apology,” 500; McKenzie, King David, 45; Halpern, David’s Secret Demons, 57–72; Baden, Historical David, 12, 46, 105, 114; Knapp, Royal Apologetic, 219, 231, 246; and Garsiel, Story, 488–489. 7  As put by Isser, Sword of Goliath, 105 (who does not adhere to the argument itself ). 8  Cf. Isser, Sword of Goliath, 105; Naʾaman, “Saul, Benjamin and the Emergence of ‘Biblical Israel,’” 342–345; Edenburg, “Wilderness, Liminality and David’s Rite of Passage,” 286; and Dietrich, “Der Mann, mit dem Gott war,” 142. 9  Although others have also noted the symbolic function of Saul and David as standing for Israel and Judah (Kratz, Komposition, 187–188 [ET p. 181]; Fischer, Von Hebron nach Jerusalem, 283; Adam, Saul und David, 10, 20–21, 95, 161; Wright, David, 10, 47), I differ from them in seeing this function as part of the deep structure of the Saul-David Narrative from the outset rather than the result of later redactional reworking. 10  For further discussion, see Germany, “Saul and David.” 11  See, e. g., Rost, Thronnachfolge Davids, 127 (who dates the Succession Narrative to the time of Solomon); Flanagan, “Court History or Succession Document,” 181 (who identifies a “Court History” that provides a faithful “record” of events during David’s reign, which was later reworked into a story of Solomon’s succession); Seiler, Thronfolge Davids, 321, 323–324 (who regards 2 Sam 9–20 + 1 Kgs 1–2 as largely a literary unity that dates to the time of Solomon); Hutton, Transjordanian Palimpsest, 221–223 (who, like Flanagan, postulates a “Court History” stemming from the time of David that was later reframed as a “Solomonic Succession Narrative” around the time of Solomon’s death). Barton, “Dating the ‘Succession Narrative,’” 103 also

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narrative are even later than the earliest version of the Saul-David narrative in 1 Sam 9–2 Sam 8*.12 In addition to considerations such as literary style13 is the issue of narrative continuity, which has troubled interpreters ever since Leonhard Rost first proposed the theory of the Succession Narrative in 1926. To put it pointedly, the narrative spanning from 2 Sam 9 to 1 Kgs 2 has neither an absolute beginning nor an absolute ending and thus is unlikely to have ever existed independently of its present literary context, where it is preceded by the story of David’s rise to kingship and is followed by the story of Solomon’s reign.14 In fact, if David’s career as king in the book of Samuel is an anticipation of the later history of the kingdom of Judah, as I have suggested above, then the “dark side” of David’s reign in the Succession Narrative, marked by repeated failings and challenges,15 can be understood as an anticipation of the “dark side” of Judah’s history marked by the end of the kingdom in 586 BCE and the Babylonian exile.16 Within the so-called Succession Narrative, the case for a postmonarchic background to the story of Absalom’s rebellion in 2 Sam 15–20 has been eloquently made by Alexander Fischer, who argues that the present shape of the narrative of David’s “exile” to Transjordan and his return to Jerusalem reflects the dissolution of the kingdom of Judah in the early sixth century and the exile of part of its population: “Die Schilderung der Emigration Davids ist transparent auf die Exilierung des Volkes 587 v. Chr. und lässt sich vor ihrem Hintergrund lesen. Oder zugespitzt formuliert: Die Fluchtgeschichte Davids ist als eine literarische Vorabbildung entworfen, die den Weg ins Exil paradigmatisch in die Gründerzeit einzeichnet.”17 tends toward an early date, although not necessarily one in the tenth century (he suggests the eighth or seventh centuries as possibilities). 12  See already Van Seters, In Search of History, 355; idem, “Court History and DtrH,” 92; idem, Biblical Saga of King David, 363; see further Ackerman, “Knowing Good and Evil,” 57, who considers that the Succession Narrative was written after the History of David’s Rise (but also regards 2 Sam 9–20 + 1 Kgs 1–2 as a separate literary document). 13  Cf. Barton, “Dating the ‘Succession Narrative,’” 97: “The liveliness of the narrative does not correlate with a high degree of historical accuracy, in fact rather the reverse.” 14  Cf. Barton, “Dating the ‘Succession Narrative,’” 98 and Rudnig, Davids Thron, 330–332 (who identifies a relatively sparse base narrative in 2 Sam 11:1a*, 2, 4*, 5, 27; 12:24*, 29, 31b; 15:1*, 12b; 17:22*; 18:1a, 6, 9b, 15*, 16a, 17a; 1 Kgs 1:5, 7, 8*, 38, 39*, 40* that links the story of David’s rise with the Solomon narratives). 15  On the more negative – or at least ambivalent – depiction of David beginning in 2 Sam 11, see, e. g., Polzin, David and the Deuteronomist, 112. See also Wright, David, 102, who argues that editorial expansions in 2 Sam 15–20 “undermine David’s achievements.” 16  On an implicitly postmonarchic dating of the Succession Narrative, cf. Frolov, “Succession Narrative,” 83, 104 (who regards 2 Sam 1–1 Kgs 2 as a whole as basically Deuteronomistic) and Van Seters, Biblical Saga of King David, 363 (who regards 2 Sam 9–20 and most of 1 Kgs 1–2 as part of a post-Dtr “David Saga”). 17  Fischer, “Flucht und Heimkehr Davids,” 65 (italics original). For a similar conclusion, see Rudnig, Davids Thron, 315–317 and Wright, David, 119.



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Yet Fischer’s observation can be taken even further: Considering that 2 Sam 15–20 are structured by a pattern of exile and return, it is reasonable to assume that these chapters presuppose not only the exile of part of Judah’s population but also the return from exile and the beginning of Persian rule. In other words, the story of David’s flight and return in 2 Sam 15–20 should be interpreted against the historical background of the Persian period.18 This insight was already hinted at by Robert Polzin in his literary reading of 2 Sam 15–19, even though his main concern was not to argue for a Persian-period date of composition of these chapters: “The various emphases on return in chapters 15–19 seem not so much required by David’s flight from Jerusalem, as David’s flight appears necessary in order to focus the story on some central issues: exilic return to Jerusalem; return with or without the king; […] exilic restoration of the kingship; and finally, divine retribution concerning the house of David.”19

Thus, given the postexilic background of the story of David’s flight and return in 2 Sam 15–20, the references to Gilead in these chapters and in related texts in the book of Samuel (especially 2 Sam 2) provide an ideal test case for exploring the function of Gilead as a literary topos in Persian-period biblical texts.

18  Several scholars have suggested that the story of David’s flight and return is part of a layer of expansion within 2 Sam 15–20; cf. Kratz, Komposition 190 [ET pp. 175–176] (who identifies the core of 2 Sam 15–20 in 2 Sam 15:1–6, 13; 18:1–19:9a; 20:1–22); Fischer, Von Hebron nach Jerusalem, 309; idem, “Flucht und Heimkehr,” 48–51, 58 (who identifies an earlier narrative in 2 Sam 18:1–19:9); Rudnig, Davids Thron, 330 (who identifies the oldest materials relating to Absalom’s revolt in 2 Sam 15:1*, 12b; 17:22*; 18:1a, 6, 9b, 15*, 16a, 17a and considers that this narrative could go back to the time of David himself ); and Hutton, Transjordanian Palimpsest, 201–211 (who argues that the core of the story is to be found in 2 Sam 18:1–19:9a* and was secondarily augmented by the story of David’s flight to and return from Transjordan in 2 Sam 15:7–17:29* + 19:9b–20:13*); Wright, David, 99–101 (who sees 2 Sam 15:14–17:29 + 19:10–43 as secondary to an earlier Absalom story in 2 Sam 15:2–6, 7–13* [esp. vv. 10, 12] + 18:2–19:9). However, it is questionable whether a version of the story of Absalom’s revolt that did not include David’s flight across the Jordan ever existed, since a direct connection between 2 Sam 15:13 and 18:1 is very abrupt, and 19:9a cannot form the absolute conclusion of the story. Rather, I  would identify the most basic Absalom story as consisting of at least 2 Sam 15:1–7, 9–11a, 12b, 13–16a; 16:14–15a; 17:24, 26; 18:1, 6–7, (8?), 9a, 15, (16?), 17; 19:9–10, 11–12, 14–15, 40a* [EV 39a*, without the reference to Chimham]; 20:3. This narrative, which reflects the theme of exile and return from the outset, was later expanded (likely in several stages) through a number of additional scenes that deal with subsidiary themes: Ittai the Gittite in 15:19–22; Ziba the servant of Mephibosheth in 16:1–4 + 19:17b–18a, 24–30; Shimei in 16:5–12 + 19:16–17a, 18b–23; Absalom being caught by a tree branch in 18:9b–14; the reporting of Absalom’s death to David and David’s mourning in 18:19–19:8; Barzillai the Gileadite in 19:32–39 [EV 31–38]; and Sheba’s rebellion in 20:1–2, 4–22. 19 Polzin, David and the Deuteronomist, 159.

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3.  Two Case Studies: Mahanaim and Barzillai the Gileadite Within the narratives in the book of Samuel (plus 1 Kgs 1–2), the region of Gilead itself is mentioned only four times (1 Sam 13:7; 2 Sam 2:9; 17:27; 24:6), although it is also called to mind in a number of other passages that mention the towns of Jabesh-gilead (1 Sam 11; 31:11–13; 2 Sam 2:4–7) and Mahanaim (2 Sam 2:8, 12, 29; 17:24, 27; 19:32; 1 Kgs 2:8) as well as the individual Barzillai the Gileadite (2 Sam 17:27; 19:31; 1 Kgs 2:7). Given that the reference to Jabeshgilead in 1 Sam 11 potentially goes back to an earlier Saul narrative,20 I will set aside the references to Jabesh-gilead for the present purposes and instead focus on the references to (1) the town of Mahanaim and (2) the figure of Barzillai the Gileadite.21 3.1 Mahanaim Within the Hebrew Bible, the toponym Mahanaim – which is typically associated with one of the twin sites of Tulul ed-Dhahab in Wadi az-Zarqa22 – features prominently in 2 Samuel, which contains contain nearly half of the total biblical occurrences.23 In 2 Sam 2, Saul’s general Abner takes Saul’s son Ishboshet to Mahanaim and makes him king “over Gilead, the Ashurites, Jezreel, Ephraim, Benjamin, and over all Israel” (vv. 8–9).24 But why does Abner bring Ishboshet to Mahanaim, of all places, in an attempt to preserve the kingship of the “house of Saul”?25 In light of the geographical references to Gilead, Jezreel, Ephraim, and Benjamin in 2 Sam 2:9, the text clearly casts Ishboshet as the first monarch of the northern kingdom of Israel (in contradistinction to a “united kingdom” under Saul and David), anticipating the later depiction of the territorial extent of the northern 20  Cf. Hutton, Transjordanian Palimpsest, 371, who likewise sees the motif of Transjordan in 1 Sam 11 as diachronically prior to that in 2 Sam 15­­–19. 21  Hutzli, “Literary Relationship,” 177, 196 claims that geographical data in the book of Samuel, including its references to Mahanaim (2 Sam 2; 17; 19), demonstrate the antiquity of some of the book’s traditions, since in his view these toponyms “are of little or no significance in later biblical texts.” Yet here Hutzli assumes from the outset what he seeks to prove, namely, that the references to Mahanaim in 2 Samuel do not fall under the category of “later biblical texts.” 22  For further discussion, see Coughenour, “A Search for Mahanaim,” 57–66. Hutton, “Over the River,” 108 identifies Mahanaim with Tall ad-Dhahab al-Gharbiya. 23  Gen 32:3; Josh 13:26, 30; 21:38; 2 Sam 2:8, 12, 29; 17:24, 27; 19:32; 1 Kgs 2:8; 4:14; 1 Chr 6:80. 24  As has been recognized in recent scholarship, the narratives relating to Ishboshet and the “war between the house of Saul and the house of David” in 2 Sam 2:8–4:12 are a multi-layered set of expansions that interrupt an earlier connection between David’s being anointed king over Judah in 2 Sam 2:4a and over all Israel in 2 Sam 5. See, e. g., Bezzel, “Der ‘Saulidische Erbfolgekrieg,’” 171–172. 25 Fischer, Von Hebron nach Jerusalem, 78 thinks that the choice of Mahanaim reflects a strategic plan by Abner to secure the support of the inhabitants of Jabesh-gilead.



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kingdom.26 In short, in 2 Sam 2:8, Mahanaim represents Ishboshet’s capital in a nascent “northern kingdom” competing with David’s kingdom. The other main cluster of references to Mahanaim in the book of Samuel appears in the story of Absalom’s rebellion in 2 Sam 15–20. In chapter 15, David’s son Absalom manages to gain a following large enough to cause David to fear a coup, whereupon David decides to flee Jerusalem along with his loyalists (2 Sam 15:13–17), crosses the Jordan, and comes to Mahanaim (2 Sam 17:22, 24, 27).27 David’s decision to go to Mahanaim of all places in Transjordan raises the question of the relationship between the story of David’s flight and return in 2 Samuel 15–20 and Abner’s proclamation of Saul’s son Ishboshet as king over the north (including over Gilead) in Mahanaim in 2 Sam 2:8–9. It seems that the connection is intentional, since the events surrounding David’s flight and return are closely connected with David’s recognition by the (northern) “Israelites” on the one hand and by Judah on the other.28 By having the events surrounding David’s flight and return take place in Mahahaim, the narrative reiterates how David’s actions (and the actions of other characters toward David) have to do with the recognition of Davidic rule by the representatives of the north, such as Ziba (2 Sam 16:1–4), Shimei (2 Sam 16:5–12; 19:16–17a, 18b–23), and Sheba (2 Sam 20:1–2, 4–22).29 Yet David’s sojourn in Mahanaim is connected not only to the question of whether or not he is recognized by northern Yahwists, but also to a discourse on Judah’s relations with other groups. A key scene here is 2 Sam 17:27–29, which describes how Shobi son of Nahash, Machir son of Ammiel from Lodebar, and Barzillai the Gileadite from Rogelim bring out supplies for David and his men at Mahanaim, thereby indicating their support of David and implicitly acknowledging him as the legitimate king. Here, Shobi is portrayed as an Ammonite and Machir potentially as an Aramean. The question of whether Barzillai the Gileadite should be understood as Israelite or non-Israelite is unclear from the immediate context and will be revisited below. For now, though, it should be noted that in 2 Sam 19:10b [EV 9b] David is said to have “fled out 26  Contra Knapp, Royal Apology, 164–165, who includes 2 Sam 2:8–9 among a series of texts that he considers to accurately reflect historical events in the tenth century BCE. 27  Fischer, “Flucht und Heimkehr Davids,” 49 argues that “the city” that is referred to in 2 Sam 18:1–19:9 originally referred to Jerusalem (with reference to earlier literature) and that the “forest of Ephraim” originally referred to an area near the town of Ephraim, ca. 20 km north of Jerusalem. Hutton, Transjordanian Palimpsest, 207 resists the theory that the story in 2 Sam 18 was originally set in Cisjordan (see further Hutton, “Over the River,” 106–107). 28  On the close connection between 2 Sam 2 and David’s flight to Mahanaim in 2 Sam 15– 20, cf. Polzin, David and the Deuteronomist, 183–184, Fischer, “Flucht und Heimkehr Davids,” 49; and Hutton, Transjordanian Palimpsest, 364. 29  On David’s sojourn in Mahanaim as a claim to David’s rule over a “greater Israel,” cf. Hutton, “Over the River,” 105: “The biblical editors hoped to provide David’s dynasty with political rootedness in Transjordan by invoking the Transjordanian landscape and claiming David’s occupation of Mahanaim” (see further ibid., 126).

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of the land” (‫ )ברח מן הארץ‬because of Absalom.30 This suggests that the Jordan is implicitly treated as the boundary of Israel and thus that all three of the figures in 2 Sam 17:27–29 represent groups living “outside the land.”31 As Jacob Wright has observed, the offering of provisions by Shobi, Machir, and Barzillai and the specific reference to the hunger, thirst, and weariness of David and those with him in 2 Sam 17:29 creates a close connection to texts in Deuteronomy that deny Ammonites and Moabites participation in the community of Israel “because they did not meet you with food and water on your journey out of Egypt” (Deut 23:4).32 In this respect, 2 Sam 17:27–29 represents a revision of the more exclusive law in Deuteronomy, demonstrating instead that the groups of “outsiders” represented by Shobi, Machir, and Barzillai were loyal to David.33 3.2  Barzillai the Gileadite Toward the end of the story of David’s flight and return, the figure of Barzillai the Gileadite becomes somewhat more developed compared to his counterparts Shobi and Machir in 2 Sam 17:27–29.34 Unlike these two figures, who are not mentioned again in the narrative, Barzillai reappears in 2 Sam 19:32–40 [EV 31–39], where he is described as helping David in his journey across the Jordan, at which point David invites him to move to Jerusalem and to come under the king’s care. Barzillai politely refuses, stating that he is too old and wishes to die in his own town. Since several details in this passage are important to my overall argument, it is worth quoting the text in full here:35 32 Now Barzillai the Gileadite had come down from Rogelim; he went on with the king to

the Jordan, to escort him over the Jordan. 33 Barzillai was a very aged man, eighty years old. He had provided the king with food while he stayed at Mahanaim, for he was a very wealthy man. 34 The king said to Barzillai, “Come over with me, and I will provide for you in Jerusalem at my side.” 35 But Barzillai said to the king, “How many years have I still to live, that I should go up with the king to Jerusalem? 36 Today I am eighty years old; can 30 

This is the perspective, at least, of the Israelites who are speaking in 2 Sam 19:9. Hutton, Transjordanian Palimpsest, 30, who notes that 2 Sam 2:8–10a, 29–32; 9:3–5; 13:37–38; 15:16–16:13; 17:27–29; 19:12–44 “clearly presents Transjordan as a politically autonomous region to which exiled political figures could escape in exile” (see also ibid, 372). 32 Wright, David, 133. 33  Or, in Wright’s words, the authors of this passage “provided readers with a historical precedent to defend a more inclusive policy than what is found in the Torah” (Wright, David, 137). 34 Wright, David, 135 argues – quite plausibly, in my view – that the story of Barzillai in 2 Sam 19:32–41 [EV 31–40] predates the reference to Barzillai alongside Shobi and Machir in 2 Sam 17:27, with 2 Sam 19:33b [EV 32b] being a later gloss that updates the passage in light of the present form of 2 Sam 17:27. 35  The translation follows the NRSV, while the verse numbering follows that of the Hebrew text. 31 Cf.



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I discern what is pleasant and what is not? Can your servant taste what he eats or what he drinks? Can I still listen to the voice of singing men and singing women? Why then should your servant be an added burden to my lord the king? 37 Your servant will go a little way over the Jordan with the king. Why should the king recompense me with such a reward? 38 Please let your servant return, so that I may die in my own town, near the graves of my father and my mother. But here is your servant Chimham; let him go over with my lord the king; and do for him whatever seems good to you.” 39 The king answered, “Chimham shall go over with me, and I will do for him whatever seems good to you; and all that you desire of me I will do for you.” 40 Then all the people crossed over the Jordan, and the king crossed over; the king kissed Barzillai and blessed him, and he returned to his own home.

Curiously, 2 Sam 19:32–40 does not describe Barzillai’s ethnicity or religious identity beyond simply stating that he is a “Gileadite.” And given that the land of Gilead has an ambivalent function in 2 Samuel (at times standing for northern Israel and at times standing for the land of exile, as shown above), it is not immediately clear whether Barzillai the Gileadite should be understood as a Yahweh-worshiper or instead as a foreigner who supports David’s kingship. In my view, this ambivalence regarding Barzillai’s insider or outsider status is in fact part and parcel of the text’s meaning and suggests an interpretation that combines both aspects. In light of the broader theme of exile and return that characterizes the present shape of 2 Sam 15–19, I  suggest that the figure of Barzillai in 2 Sam 19:32–40 should be understood as representing the community of Yahweh-worshipers living in the diaspora during the Persian period.36 According to this line of interpretation, if a returning David stands for a returning Golah community, then David’s offer to Barzillai can be understood as an appeal to the Yahwistic diaspora communities that continued to exist in the Persian period to take up residence in Judah. Barzillai’s polite refusal of the offer would thus reflect the reality that some members of “Israel” voluntarily chose to continue a life in the diaspora. If this is the case, then David’s blessing of Barzillai at the end of the exchange would suggest that the author of this passage accepted this state of affairs and advocated normalized relations between Yahwistic communities in the land of Israel and in the diaspora, symbolized by the open line of communication established through Barzillai’s servant Chimham.37 This positive view of Barzillai and the members of his house is also reflected in David’s dying words in 1 Kgs 2:7, in which David tells Solomon, “Deal loyally … with the sons of Barzillai the Gileadite, and let them be among those who eat at your table; for with such loyalty they met me when I fled from your broth36 Hutton, Transjordanian Palimpsest, 73–74 picks up on this mediating role of Transjordan, noting the identity of literary characters from Transjordan as “ethnically Israelite” but “not inherently politically aligned with either Judah or Israel.” However, he interprets it within a tenth-century historical context rather than a Persian-period context. 37 McCarter, II Samuel, 418 and Hutton, “Left Bank,” 483 interpret Chimham as possibly Barzillai’s son.

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er Absalom.”38 This passage, like 2 Sam 19:32–40, advocates the acceptance in Jerusalem of a social group associated with the figure of Barzillai, specifically permitting this group to “eat at the king’s table.” Considering that Gilead is often treated as an “Israelite” territory in other biblical texts, it seems that Barzillai’s Gileadite identity was chosen specifically to represent someone who is simultaneously an insider and an outsider – an insider in terms of ethnicity but an outsider in terms of geographical location. This interpretation of Barzillai the Gileadite in 2  Sam  17:27 and 2 Sam 19:32–40 as representing the Yahwistic diaspora during the Persian period finds some support in the attestation of the name “Parnu bar Zilli” (‫פרנו‬ ‫ )בר זלי‬in an Aramaic legal document from Elephantine dated to the year 402 BCE.39 The document is the deed to the sale of a house by a certain Anani bar Azariah – who is explicitly identified as some sort of Yahwistic cultic official (‫)ﬠנני בר ﬠזריה לחן זי יהו‬ – to a certain “Anani bar Haggai bar Meshullam Bar Bss, Aramean of Yeb the fortress.”40 The individual Parnu bar Zilli is mentioned in the context of Anani bar Azariah specifying the boundaries of the property being sold: Above Anani’s house is the “house of Parnu bar Zilli and Mardu, his brother” (line 19). Although Parnu bar Zilli’s ethnic and religious identity is not mentioned explicitly, the fact that he lives above a Yahwistic cultic official and just steps away from the temple of Yahweh on the island of Elephantine (lines 18–19) at least raises the possibility that he may also be a Yahweh-worshiper. In addition to the positive passages about Barzillai the Gileadite in 2 Sam 17:27 and 2 Sam 19:32–40, the name “Barzillai” appears in two further contexts that suggest a more negative treatment of the members of the group represented by him. In 2 Sam 21:1–14, David agrees to hand over seven of Saul’s descendants to be killed by the Gibeonites in order to stave off a famine, and five of these are described as the sons of Saul’s daughter Merab, “whom she bore to Adriel son of Barzillai the Meholathite” (2 Sam 21:8). Although “Adriel the Meholathite” is mentioned already in 1 Sam 18:6, the reference to Adriel’s father Barzillai is found only here. If “Barzillai the Meholathite” is indeed meant to refer to the same “Barzillai the Gileadite” from 2 Sam 19:32–41, then 2 Sam 21:8 would indicate that David did not uphold his own commitment to deal loyally with Barzillai.41 38  In the present form of 1 Kgs 2, this highly positive treatment of Barzillai is sandwiched between David’s instructions to Solomon to put to death two ambivalent figures from Judah and Benjamin – Joab and Shimei. On the structuring of the reference to Joab, Barzillai, and Shimei in 1 Kgs 2, cf. Provan, “Why Barzillai of Gilead,” 115. 39  Pap. Brooklyn 47.218.94. For the text, see Kraeling, Brooklyn Museum Aramaic Papyri, 268–280, esp. 270–271. For a similar name, see Lozachmeur, Collection Clermont-Ganneau, 1:401 (an Aramaic ostracon from Egypt reading “pṭy/wsy br zl[y] // pḥpy br zl[y],” CG no. 267 convex lines 2–3). I am grateful to James Moore for bringing this evidence to my attention. 40  Lines 1–3. The dittography of the relative pronoun ‫ זי‬occurs over the break between lines 2 and 3. 41  Cf. Van Seters, “David and the Gibeonites,” 541, who notes that the reference to Barzillai



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The other more negative treatment of Barzillai the Gileadite is found in the books of Ezra and Nehemiah. Ezra 2:59–63 (with a parallel in Neh 7:61–65) lists certain groups whose belongingness to Israel was in question, including priestly groups represented by the descendants of Habaiah, Hakkoz, and Barzillai, “who had married one of the daughters of Barzillai the Gileadite, and was called by their name” (v. 61). The text goes on to state that these groups “looked for their entries in the genealogical records, but they were not found there, and so they were excluded from the priesthood as unclean; the governor told them that they were not to partake of the most holy food, until there should be a priest to consult Urim and Thummim.” As Jacob Wright has observed, here the name of Barzillai the Gileadite “discredits Judahite priests (and perhaps other persons) who bear it.”42 Although I am less confident than Wright in concluding that the references to Barzillai in 2 Sam 17:27; 19:32–40; and 1 Kgs 2:7 postdate Ezra 2:61 and Neh 7:63, I agree with him that all of these texts featuring Barzillai reflect debates about the inclusion of particular groups during the Persian period. In contrast to Wright and others, however, I would suggest that Barzillai may perhaps better be understood not as a foreigner but as a personification of Yahwistic groups living outside the land.

4.  Transjordan and the Diaspora My suggestion that “Gilead” in 2 Sam 15–20 serves as a cipher for the diaspora is bolstered by the similar function of Transjordan in Josh 22:9–34, a story about a conflict between Cisjordanian and Transjordanian Israelites that arose following Joshua’s distribution of the conquered land to the Israelite tribes (Josh 13–21). In this narrative, the Transjordanian tribes build a giant altar on the west bank of the Jordan River on their way home from the Israelite assembly, whereupon the Cisjordanian tribes complain that the altar violates the principle of a single legitimate cultic site (as expressed in the book of Deuteronomy). Upon hearing the western tribes’ accusation, the Transjordanians explain that the altar was never intended for offering sacrifices, and they go on to state their real motivation: “From fear that in time to come your children might say to our children, ‘What have you to do with Yhwh, the God of Israel? For Yhwh has made the Jordan a boundary between in 2 Sam 21:1–14 “makes the friendship between David and Barzillai [in 2 Sam 17:27; 19:31– 40] seem quite ludicrous.” 42 Wright, David, 136. Hamilton, “At Whose Table?,” 529 (with n. 47) suggests that the traditions about Barzillai in 1 Kgs 2:7; Ezra 2:61; Neh 7:63 are “perhaps based on the genealogies that such an aristocratic family would have kept.” In Hamilton’s view, the story of Barzillai the Gileadite tries “to address the question of how the landed elite should relate to the state” (ibid., 531). In his view, it is difficult to imagine situating it in a postexilic historical context (ibid., 532), yet he fails to recognize the importance of David’s “exile and return” for the meaning of 2 Sam 15–20 as a whole.

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us and you, you Reubenites and Gadites; you have no portion in Yhwh.’ So your children might make our children cease to worship Yhwh.” (Josh 22:24–25)

Here, the phrase “in time to come” and the reference to future generations indicate that the conflict described in the text has nothing to do with the period of the conquest constructed by the book of Joshua but instead with a heated issue at the time when the text was written. In terms of its rhetorical function, the text critiques a group living “in the promised land” for barring Israelites “outside the land” from participating in the sacrificial cult at the central place of worship.43 This situation is best understood within the historical context of the Persian period, when the question of Judean diaspora communities’ access to the sacrificial cult at the second temple would have first arisen.44 In short, in Josh 22, Cisjordan and Transjordan can be understood as symbols for Palestinian Judaism and diaspora Judaism, respectively.45 Similarly, in 2 Sam 15–20, given that the Jordan River marks the boundary between life inside and outside the land, then the figure of Barzillai the Gileadite can be interpreted as a symbol for the Yahwistic diaspora.

5. Conclusions In this study, my aim has been to understand the symbolic function of Gilead in a selection of texts in 2 Samuel. While in 2 Sam 2:8–9 the references to Gilead and Mahanaim are closely linked to biblical conceptions of the northern kingdom of Israel (and thus anticipate the “divided monarchy” even before 1 Kgs 12), I have suggested that the remaining references to Mahanaim and to Barzillai the Gileadite in 2 Sam 17:24, 27 and 19:32–40 (as well as in 1 Kgs 2:7) should be under43 

Cf. Ellis, “Theological Boundaries,” 244; Goldstein, “Joshua 22:9–34,” 71–72. postexilic date for Joshua 22 has been proposed by a number of interpreters (cf. den Hertog, “Jos 22,” 75; Noort, “Der Streit um den Altar,” 169; and Nocquet, La Samarie, 162–177). Ronnie Goldstein has proposed that the narrative in Josh 22:9–34 reflects a conflict between Nehemiah and the Tobiads as described in the book of Nehemiah. Drawing in part on the writings of Josephus, Goldstein (“Joshua 22:9–34,” 78) concludes that the Tobiads had close connections with the Jerusalem priesthood and could have influenced the authors of Josh 22, who took a pro-Transjordanian position, in contrast to the group represented by Nehemiah. Thus, Goldstein suggests that the narrative serves to defend the right of Transjordanians  – such as the Tobiads – to participate in the sacrificial cult in Jerusalem (ibid., 71–72). However, I wonder whether pinpointing such a specific historical context unduly neglects a more symbolic interpretation of Cisjordan and Transjordan, as I am proposing here. Moreover, if it is true that Josh 22 reflects a conflict with the Tobiads, then Goldstein’s dating may need to be downdated further, given that the conflict between Nehemiah and Tobiah described in the book of Nehemiah could reflect the realities of the Hellenistic period rather than the Persian period (cf. Kloppenborg, “Joshua 22,” 363 n. 55; Campbell, “Jewish Shrines,” 159–169). 45  Cf. Nocquet, La Samarie, 177, who describes Josh 22 as “une apologie de ceux qui vivent leur foi yahwiste en dehors de la Judée” and as a story that validates “l’orthodoxie religieuse et cultuelle de la diaspora.” 44 A



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stood as part of a discourse on exile, return, and relations between Yehud and the diaspora during the Persian period. From this perspective, David’s sojourn in the town of Mahanaim in 2 Sam 17 not only represents David’s appropriation of the seat of power of the Saulide Ishbosheth from 2 Sam 2; it also symbolizes the place of David’s (and thus Judah’s) exile outside of the land. This function of Gilead as a symbol of life “in exile” also appears in the detailed exchange between David and Barzillai the Gileadite in 2 Sam 19:32–41. In my view, this exchange serves to clarify the relationship between the Yahwistic diaspora outside the land, represented by Barzillai, and the Yahwistic community in Yehud, represented by David. Given David’s blessing of Barzillai, we can conclude that the text accepts the choice of certain Yahwistic groups to live outside of Yehud while at the same time offering them the opportunity to participate in religious life in the land. Furthermore, if we assume that the passages featuring Mahanaim and Barzillai the Gileadite in 2 Sam 17 and 19 were written by scribes in Yehud, then we would also have evidence within the so-called Succession Narrative of a more inclusive form of Judean Yahwism in the Persian period than that which is reflected, for example, in the books of Ezra and Nehemiah.

Bibliography Ackerman, J. S., “Knowing Good and Evil: A  Literary Analysis of the Court History in 2 Samuel 9–20 and 1 Kings 1–2.” JBL 109 (1990): 41–64. Baden, J., The Historical David: The Real Life of an Invented Hero (New York, 2013). Barton, J., “Dating the ‘Succession Narrative,’” in: In Search of Pre-Exilic Israel: Proceedings of the Oxford Old Testament Seminar (ed. J. Day; JSOTSup 406; London, 2004), 95–106. Bezzel, H., “Der ‘Saulidische Erbfolgekrieg’ – Responses to Which Kind of Monarchy?” in: The Book of Samuel and Its Response to Monarchy (ed. S. Kipfer/J. M. Hutton; BWANT 228; Stuttgart, 2021), 165–181. Campbell, E. F., Jr., “Jewish Shrines of the Hellenistic and Persian Periods,” in: Symposia Celebrating the Seventy-Fifth Anniversary of the Founding of the American Schools of Oriental Research, Vol. 2 (ed. F. M. Cross; Cambridge, MA, 1979), 159–169. Coughenour, R. A. “A Search for Mahanaim,” BASOR 273 (1989): 57–66. Dietrich, W., “Der Mann, mit dem Gott war. Kompositions- und quellenkritische Überlegungen zur Darstellung des Aufstiegs Davids in den Samuelbüchern,” in: David in the Desert: Tradition and Redaction in the “History of David’s Rise” (ed. H. Bezzel/R. G. Kratz; BZAW 514; Berlin, 2021), 127–143. Edenburg, C., “Wilderness, Liminality and David’s Rite of Passage,” in: David in the Desert: Tradition and Redaction in the “History of David’s Rise” (ed. H. Bezzel/R. G. Kratz; BZAW 514; Berlin, 2021), 285–303. Ellis, R. R., “The Theological Boundaries of Inclusion and Exclusion in the Book of Joshua,” RevExp 95 (1998): 235–261. Finkelstein, I./Koch, I./Lipschits, O., “The Biblical Gilead: Observations on Identifications, Geographic Divisions and Territorial History,” UF 43 (2011): 131–159.

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Fischer, A. A., “Flucht und Heimkehr Davids als integraler Rahmen der Abschalomerzählung,” in: Ideales Königtum: Studien zu David und Salomo (ed. R. Lux; ABG 16; Leipzig, 2005), 43–69. –, Von Hebron nach Jerusalem: Eine Redaktionsgeschichtliche Studie zur Erzählung von König David in Hebron in II Sam 1–5 (BZAW 335; Berlin, 2004). Flanagan, J. W., “Court History or Succession Document? A Study of 2 Samuel 9–20 and 1 Kings 1–2,” JBL 91 (1972): 172–181. Frolov, S., “Succession Narrative: A ‘Document’ or a Phantom?” JBL 121 (2002): 81–104. Garsiel, M., The Story and History of David and His Kingdom, Part 1 of The Book of Sa­ muel: Studies in History, Historiography, Theology and Poetics Combined (Jerusalem, 2018). Germany, S., “Saul and David, Israel and Judah: The Book of Samuel as Paradigmatic History,” VT, forthcoming (published online Sept. 2022: DOI: 10.1163/15685330bja10110). –, “Scribal Cartography in Numbers 32, Deuteronomy 2–3, and Joshua 12–13,” ZDPV 137 (2021): 142–166. Goldstein, R., “Joshua 22:9–34: A  Priestly Narrative from the Second Temple Period.” Shnaton 13 (2002): 43–82 [in Hebrew]. Halpern, B., David’s Secret Demons: Messiah, Murderer, Traitor, King (Bible in Its World; Grand Rapids, 2001). Hamilton, M. W., “At Whose Table? Stories of Elites and Social Climbers in 1–2 Samuel,” VT 59 (2009): 513–532. Hertog, C. G. den, “Der geschichtliche Hintergrund der Erzählung Jos 22,” in: Saxa loquentur: Studien zur Archäologie Palästinas/Israels. Festschrift für Volkmar Fritz zum 65. Geburtstag (ed. C. G. den Hertog/U. Hübner/S. Münger; AOAT 302; Münster, 2003), 61–83. Hutton, J., “The Left Bank of the Jordan and the Rites of Passage: An Anthropological Interpretation of 2 Samuel XIX,” VT 56 (2006): 470–484. –, “Over the River and through the Woods: Historical and Narrative Geography in 2 Samuel 18,” in: The Books of Samuel: Stories  – History  – Reception History (ed. W. Dietrich; BETL 284; Leuven, 2016), 105–127. –, “The Transjordanian Palimpsest: The Overwritten Texts of Personal Exile and Transformation in the Deuteronomistic History (BZAW 396; Berlin, 2009). Hutzli, J., “The Literary Relationship between I–II Samuel and I–II Kings: Considerations Concerning the Formation of the Two Books,” ZAW 122 (2010): 505–519. Isser, S., The Sword of Goliath: David in Heroic Literature (SBLStBL 6; Atlanta, 2003). Kloppenborg, J. S., “Joshua 22: The Priestly Editing of an Ancient Tradition,” Bib 62 (1981): 347–371. Knapp, A., Royal Apologetic in the Ancient Near East (WAWSup 4; Atlanta, 2015). Kraeling, E. G., The Brooklyn Museum Aramaic Papyri: New Documents of the Fifth Century B. C. from the Jewish Colony at Elephantine (New Haven, 1953). Kratz, R. G., Die Komposition der erzählenden Bücher des Alten Testaments (Göttingen, 2000) [English translation: The Composition of the Narrative Books of the Old Testament (London, 2005)]. Lozachmeur, H., La collection Clermont-Ganneau: Ostraca, épigraphes sure jarre, étiquettes de bois, Vol. 1 (Paris, 2006). McCarter, P. K., II Samuel: A New Translation with Introduction, Notes, and Commentary (AB 9; New York, 1984).



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–, “The Apology of David,” JBL 99 (1980): 489–504. McKenzie, S. L., King David: A Biography (New York, 2000). Naʾaman, N., “Saul, Benjamin and the Emergence of ‘Biblical Israel,” ZAW 121 (2009): 211–224, 335–349. Nocquet, D., La Samarie, la Diaspora et l’achèvement de la Torah: Territorialités et internationalités dans l’Hexateuque (OBO 284; Fribourg, 2017). Noort, E., “Der Streit um den Altar. Josua 22 und seine Rezeptionsgeschichte,” in: Kult, Konflikt und Versöhnung: Beiträge zur kultischen Sühne in religiösen, sozialen und politischen Auseinandersetzungen des antiken Mittelmeerraumes (ed. R. Albertz; AOAT 285; Münster, 2001), 151–174. Ottosson, M., Gilead: Tradition and History (ConBOT 3; Lund, 1969). Polzin, R., David and the Deuteronomist. A Literary Study of the Deuteronomistic History, Part Three: 2 Samuel (Bloomington, 1993). Provan, I. W., “Why Barzillai of Gilead (1 Kings 2:7)? Narrative Art and the Hermeneutics of Suspicion in 1 Kings 1–2,” TynB 46 (1995): 103–116. Rudnig, T. A., Davids Thron: Redaktionskritische Studien zur Geschichte von der Thronnachfolge Davids (BZAW 358; Berlin, 2006). Seiler, S., Die Geschichte von der Thronfolge Davids (2 Sam 9–20; 1 Kön 1–2): Untersuchungen zur Literarkritik und Tendenz (BZAW 267; Berlin, 1998). Van Seters, J., The Biblical Saga of King David (Winona Lake, 2009). –, “The Court History and DtrH: Conflicting Perspectives on the House of David,” in: Die sogennante Thronfolgegeschichte Davids: Neue Einsichten und Anfragen (ed. A. de Pury/T. Römer; OBO 176; Fribourg, 2000), 70–93. –, “David and the Gibeonites,” ZAW 123 (2011): 535–552. –, In Search of History: Historiography in the Ancient World and the Origins of Biblical History (New Haven, 1983). Wright, J. L., David, King of Israel, and Caleb in Biblical Memory (New York, 2014).

Involuntary Migration, Strategies of Identity Construction, and Religious Diversity after 586 BCE C. L. Crouch It is hard to overstate the consequences of Jerusalem’s destruction for the identity concerns of those who once lived there. The fall of the city to the Babylonians – not once, but twice – together with associated events left an indelible mark on Israelite and Judahite identity. This essay examines the construction of Israelite and Judahite identities in the wake of Judah’s downfall through the lens of involuntary migration, paying particular attention to the way that the reasons for this catastrophe were differently narrated by different involuntary migrant communities. The deportee community in Babylonia, according to the evidence of the book of Ezekiel, accounted for the disaster by focusing on the Israelites’ failure to worship YHWH exclusively. The refugee community in Egypt, by contrast, is said by the book of Jeremiah to have accounted for Judah’s downfall by pointing to the Judahites’ failure to persist in their worship of the Queen of Heaven. Both communities’ efforts reflect interpretive strategies common among involuntary migrants, as they seek to explain their situation and to reassert practices deemed central to group identity.

1.  Texts and Contexts Although the books of Jeremiah and Ezekiel are ultimately products of lengthy processes of revision and supplementation, both are firmly rooted in events surrounding the destruction of Judah in the early sixth century BCE. For present purposes, the prominence of involuntary migration in the accounts of this period is a point of particular interest, insofar as it foregrounds the practical and ideological significance of displacement for the population of the former kingdom. In terms employed by modern social-scientific research, these traditions depict a wide range of forced migration typologies: internal displacements within Judah, external displacements to neighbouring countries, and migrations motivated by environmental, economic, religious, and military causes. These displacements include overtly “forced” migrations, as in the deportation of Judah’s royal family to Babylonia, as well as cases in which migrants are able to exert some degree of

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individual or collective agency: in decisions of whether to migrate, in decisions concerning with whom to migrate, and in decisions regarding destination. The forced migration of the royal family from Jerusalem, along with a number of other elites, is undoubtedly the best-known migratory event of the period. When scholars refer to this century it is common to refer simply to “the Exile,” or “the exilic period,” and thus to foreground the experience of those taken to Babylonia in the aftermath of Jerusalem’s defeat. Yet the experience of the deportees was not as monolithic as this terminology suggests: it should be differentiated along multiple axes, including date and destination. Moreover, it fails to take any account of the involuntary displacements undergone by those not taken to Mesopotamia. The following synopsis seeks to draw the reader’s attention to the more complex reality of this period. The surrender of Jehoiachin to Nebuchadnezzar in 597 prompted the Babylonians’ first deportation of people from Judah to Babylonia. This deportation included members of the royal family and administration, military and priestly personnel, and a number of industrial specialists (2 Kgs 24:10–16). Upon arrival, they were divided into at least two contingents: one urban, one rural. Cuneiform ration tablets confirm that the king and his sons were taken to the capital city, Babylon.1 The remaining deportees – undoubtedly the majority – were resettled in the countryside, in a land-for-service scheme typical of Babylonia’s deportation programme.2 The book of Ezekiel identifies the titular prophet as among these 597 deportees, and the prophet’s audience as a group resettled at a site along the Chebar canal. Extra-biblical materials from a settlement called Al-Yahudu (‘the City of Judah’) indicate that at least some of the deportees from Judah (as part of the 597 deportation, or later ones) were resettled in the environs of Nippur, but the site named in Ezekiel (Tel Abib) is not otherwise known.3 A second deportation occurred after the final surrender of the city in 586, following a prolonged siege provoked by renewed rebellion under Zedekiah (2 Kgs 25:1–21). The book of Jeremiah reports still further deportations in 582 (Jer 52:30). Details of this third wave are sparse, though it is not unreasonable to think that it was a consequence for the assassination of the Babylonians’ chosen governor, Gedaliah, by a surviving member of the royal family, Ishmael (see Jer 41). Where the deportees of 586 and 582 were resettled is not reported. 1  These are the so-called Weidner tablets, which may be found as Mélanges Dussaud A and B within the ORACC project ‘Cuneiform Texts Mentioning Israelites, Judeans, and Other Related Groups’ (http://oracc.iaas.upenn.edu/ctij/corpus); cf. 2 Kgs 25:27–30. 2  See Alstola, Judeans in Babylonia for a description of this system. 3  The Al Yahudu texts published thus far appear in Pearce and Wunsch, Documents of Judean Exiles and West Semites in Babylonia; Wunsch, with Pearce, Judeans by the Waters of Babylon, is eagerly awaited. Although these texts are not direct evidence concerning the circumstances of the community depicted within the book, they give a useful sense of the conditions of life in Babylonia; see also Alstola, Judeans in Babylonia.



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Though they were not taken by force to Babylonia, accounts of this period make clear that those left in the land were not spared displacement. Prior to Jerusalem’s surrender(s), inhabitants of Judah’s unwalled towns and villages sought safety in Jerusalem or in one of the kingdom’s other large, fortified cities – hoping that the temporary abandonment of their homes would lessen their attraction to the invading Babylonian army and that the greater military strength of the capital would protect them. The Rechabites of whom Jeremiah makes an example are in this category: they explain that “when King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon came up against the land, we said, ‘Come, and let us go to Jerusalem for fear of the army of the Chaldeans and the army of the Arameans.’ That is why we are living in Jerusalem.” (Jer 35:11).4 The Judahites who witness Jeremiah’s field purchase may be in Jerusalem for similar reasons (Jer 34). Jerusalem also became unsafe, however, as the Babylonians drew near; this prompted both its ordinary residents and its resident refugees to flee the city; Jeremiah urges Benjaminites in Jerusalem – probably also temporary residents, there seeking refuge – to escape before the invaders arrived (6:1). Not all those who tried to leave before it was too late were successful, however (52:7; cf. 37:11– 12). Zedekiah and some of the soldiers who had been defending the city tried to flee south into the Arabah; Zedekiah is said to have been captured and then deported, while his sons and members of the ruling class were executed by the conquerors (39:4–9). Some survivors did manage to reach safety in the Transjordan; those who fled the capital as it fell may well have been joining others who had gone there directly from Jerusalem’s outlying hamlets (40:11–12). After Jerusalem’s surrender, the Babylonian provincial government relocated some of the kingdom’s homeless population onto agricultural properties vacated as a result of the deportations (39:7–12). Some of the other people who had been allowed to remain in the provincialized kingdom moved to its new capital, Mizpah, where they may have hoped to benefit from imperial largesse (40:7–10). Among those identified as relocating to Mizpah is Jeremiah, who is given a “choice” by the Babylonian representative: to go with the royal family to Babylonia, or remain in Judah and go to Mizpah (40:4–6). Sometime later, an attempted political coup involving the assassination of the governor appointed by the Babylonians provokes a series of further migrations. The leader of the assassination plot, a member of the former royal family called Ishmael, is reported to have taken captive all those who had been in Mizpah at the time of the assassination, forcing them to go with him and his allies as they flee across the Jordan towards Ammon (41:10). Ishmael succeeds in reaching Ammon, but those whom he had forced to flee with him begin what appears to be a return migration to Judah, soon interrupted by the governor’s surviving 4  On the Rechabites as involuntary migrants see Strine, “Embracing Asylum Seekers and Refugees.” Davidson has examined the chapter’s presentation of this otherwise unknown group as “drawn into the center and absorbed by the center” in Davidson, “Exoticizing the Otter,” 198.

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military commanders (41:13–16). Almost immediately there is a dispute over the group’s next destination: some of their number want to go to Egypt, fearful that the Babylonians will exact upon them the consequences of Ishmael’s actions (41:17–18), but when the prophet Jeremiah is consulted as to the divine will, he says that they should return to Judah and stay there (42:7–22). The leadership reiterates its fear that the Babylonians will force them to migrate to Babylonia and opts for Egypt (43:2–7). Jeremiah is named among those “taken” to Egypt as part of this group (43:6). Given his clearly expressed opposition to this move, this effectively depicts him as having been forced to migrate, against his will, by members of his own community.5 The text indicates that this migration to Egypt was envisioned as a temporary solution to the dangers posed by remaining in the homeland, with the people deciding to go to Egypt in the expectation that they would return to Judah later (44:14). A few eventually succeed in making a return migration, but the majority do not (44:28). Although the detailed relationship of these accounts to early sixth century realities may be disputed by historians, the persistence with which they refer to population movements in the wake of Judah’s fall make clear that displacement was a pervasive – and widely variable – aspect of life in sixth-century Judah/Yehud. Of the experiences described in these texts, the rural deportee community at Chebar and the refugee community in Egypt form the primary loci of interest in the following discussion, because the accounts concerning them offer related yet contrasting responses to these experiences of displacement. The Chebar community, or a portion of it, is represented at length by the book of Ezekiel, which presents itself as the words of a priest-prophet deported in 597. Although the entirety of the book is unlikely to stem from that single individual, it offers a perspective on identity construction that plausibly reflects the experience of an involuntary migrant community displaced to a rural, isolated environment.6 The perspective of the refugees in Egypt is complicated by the fact that it is presented as second-hand information, relayed by a prophetic figure antagonistic to this community’s decision to go to Egypt. Indeed, access to the experiences and self-understanding of any of the homeland survivors of 597 BCE is limited by the preservation of their stories in texts subject to the editorial attentions of the deportees and their descendants, whose voices ultimately dominate the biblical tradition. The book of Jeremiah, especially in its Masoretic form, reflects the eventual triumph of the deportees over those who remained in the land when it expresses divine preference for the deportees and divine judgment on those who remained. The voices of the latter, as well as those who fled the land for other destinations, are coloured by the book’s need to leave the land devoid of inhabitants, so that it is empty and waiting for the deportees to return. Nevertheless, 5  On Jeremiah as an involuntary migrant, see Reimer, “There – But Not Back Again: Forced Migration and the End of Jeremiah.” 6  For discussion at greater length, see Crouch, Israel and Judah, 49–90.



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Jeremiah does preserve some of these voices.7 Their persistence is reflected in the book’s exceptional focus on life in Judah in the run-up to and immediate aftermath of the land’s devastation, which stands in notable contrast to the deportee-orientated judgement of Ezekiel and the deportee-orientated hope of Second Isaiah. Glimpses of an underlying positivity about the potential of those not deported in 597, though subverted by the extant tradition, also affirm that these voices have not been wholly lost to subsequent redactors.

2.  Involuntary Migration and Strategies of Identity Construction Anxiety over a community’s cultural distinctiveness is a common phenomenon among communities suddenly exposed to outsiders, as both the deportee community in Babylonia and the refugee community in Egypt were. Under ordinary circumstances ethnic groups develop cultural habits that are more or less unconscious, but encounters with alternative ways of life draw attention to these habits, encouraging their explicit articulation and justification.8 The shock of the encounter with the Babylonian army, together with the widespread disruption and displacements that followed, would almost inevitably have drawn the people’s attention to the implications of these events for their culture and identity. Given the propensity of experiences of alterity to crystalise ethnic sentiments, it is little surprise that explicit expressions of ethnic identity are characteristic of involuntary migrant communities. As Dawn Chatty has observed, “ethnic identities tend to become most important in situations of flux, when there are sudden or profound changes underfoot, when resources or boundaries are being threatened” – in other words, in precisely the sorts of socially unstable situations typical of involuntary migration.9 Edward Said has also drawn attention to the physical and social instability of displaced communities, suggesting that their chronic insecurity provokes a sustained, acute attention to lines of difference among the displaced. He speaks especially of the “need [of the displaced] to reassemble an identity out of the refractions and discontinuities of exile,” arguing that defensive, boundary-emphasising behaviours in migrant communities are a response to the profound insecurity of living outside one’s own land.10 Crosscultural evidence suggests that groups that move en bloc are especially likely 7  See Seitz, Theology in Conflict; Pohlmann, Studien zum Jeremiabuch; Sharp, Prophecy and Ideology in Jeremiah. 8 Bourdieu, Outline of a Theory of Practice, 233; for discussion see, e. g., Jones, The Archaeology of Ethnicity, 95. 9 Chatty, Displacement and Dispossession, 22, referring to Barth, “Introduction”; cf. T. Parsons, “Some Theoretical Considerations on the Nature and Trends of Change in Ethnicity,” in Ethnicity: Theory and Experience, ed. N. Glazer and D. P. Moynihan (Cambridge, 1975), 53–83; 68–69. 10  Saïd, “Reflections on Exile,” 361; 360.

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to preserve and intensify cultural customs from the homeland, because such customs give members of the group “a language of cohesion with each other and with the past” and thus “a necessary affirmation of identity.”11 Ezekiel’s intense attention to Israelite cultural phenomena, and especially the book’s anxiety about the deportees’ adherence to an exclusively Yahwistic form of Israelite religious expression, is a stellar example of the impact of migration on identity construction. Ezekiel seeks to address the social instability provoked by displacement by (re)establishing clear, unambiguous boundaries between Israelites and others, paying particular attention to the role of exclusive Yahwism in defining Israel and differentiating it from outsiders. A  distinctive Israelite praxis is presented as being essential to Israel’s ultimate survival, and a prerequisite for its eventual return to the land. As the epitome of an anti-assimilationist cultural strategy – typical of involuntary migrants resettled in rural, camp-like settings  – exclusive Yahwism acts as a bulwark against the cultural dangers of displacement.12 Much less is known about the way that those in the homeland responded to the upheaval to which the kingdom’s survivors had been subjected. But  – between the Moabites, Edomites, and Ammonites in the Transjordan where some had sought refuge, and the Babylonians who invaded and then stayed to govern the province – it may surely be said that Judah’s population underwent an intensive experience of alterity as a result of the kingdom’s conquest. For survivors in the homeland also to have developed more explicit identity language and a stronger concept of self would be typical. Indeed, it would be surprising if the population of Judah had not thought about the effects of these events for their self-understanding. The migration to Egypt would then have compounded the initial effects of these experiences in the homeland. Notably, one of the specific ways that involuntary migrant communities fight the dangers of displacement is to engage in acts of explanatory narrative, seeking to understand how and why they have been displaced. Liisa Malkki has discussed this as the moralisation of history, in which the disaster experienced by the community is linked to specific moral failures committed in the group’s immediate past.13 Displacement is articulated as a consequence for sin – specifically, as a failure to maintain key cultural practices characteristic of the group’s distinctive identity, and thereby a failure to maintain crucial community boundaries. In these historical retrospectives, concerns over cultural distinctiveness are intimately intertwined with explanations of migrants’ current situation. Moreover, the place in which the involuntary migrants now find themselves is conceived 11  Sayigh, “The Palestinian Identity among Camp Residents,” 8; cf. Chatty, Displacement and Dispossession, 34 n. 8; Cohen, The Symbolic Construction of Community, 103. 12  For a more sustained analysis of Ezekiel’s insular approach to Israelite identity as a response to involuntary migration, see Crouch, Israel and Judah Redefined, 49–90. 13 Malkki, Purity and Exile.



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as a place of purification from these sins: a place where normative community practices may be restored and thus a site of preparation for the group’s eventual return to the homeland.14 The community at Chebar and the community in Egypt both exhibit signs of engaging in this type of explanatory narrative, pointing to cultural – especially religious – deviation from previously-established norms as the principal reason that they now find themselves outside their land. The practices that each group identifies as the defining characteristic of their community – a failure to adhere to which has led to their present displacement  – however, are diametrically opposed.

3.  The Babylonian Diaspora’s Account: Failure to Adhere to Exclusive Yahwism According to Ezekiel, the Israelites are in Babylonia because they failed to worship YHWH exclusively. Exclusive Yahwistic worship, from Ezekiel’s perspective, is an immutable feature of Israelite identity and, by failing to adhere to this exclusive Yahwistic worship, the people have endangered their uniquely Israelite character. Once they were no longer distinctively Israelite, they no longer merited possession of the land of Israel – and they have accordingly been evicted from it by the deity whom they have failed to worship. In order to trace this trajectory of cultural endangerment, and thereby explain the people’s present circumstances, the book focuses intently on Israel’s past. Its moralising tendencies are especially prominent in Ezekiel 20, the infamously negative account of Israel’s history of sin. At significant length, the chapter argues that Israel’s punishment is deserved. It begins by recounting Israel’s origins to Egypt, where its unique relationship with YHWH and concomitantly unique cultural praxis – exclusive Yahwism – was first established. The verses that follow detail how Israel failed to maintain this exclusive Yahwism and thus undermined the distinction between Israel and the nations. The threat posed by these assimilatory tendencies reached its inevitable conclusion when YHWH decided that Israel would be removed from the land in which it had been meant to live out its distinctive lifestyle. Through this narrative the chapter explains why Israel is now in Babylonia, identifying the Israelites’ failure to maintain distinctively Israelite cultural boundaries as the reason for YHWH’s judgment. A similar logic undergirds much of the rest of the book – Israel’s descent into religious apostasy 14 Malkki, Purity and Exile, 197–231; cf. Peteet, “Transforming Trust,” 179; Zureik, “Theoretical and Methodological Considerations for the Study of Palestinian Society,” 159–160, on the camp as a moral community and the idea that the refugee’s soul must be purified before return to the homeland.

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and concomitant existential danger is especially prominent in Ezekiel 16 and 23, which offer grim enumerations of Israel/Jerusalem’s failures to maintain an exclusive Yahwism and depict the ruthless destruction that follows. Throughout, the book identifies Israel’s failures with regard to boundary maintenance as the reason for its deportation to Babylonia.15 Ezekiel’s use of history to explain Israel’s current circumstances serves several functions. First, while all communities are “in an important sense … constituted by their past,” a group’s shared past acquires an especially important role during times of significant social, cultural, and physical upheaval, when the coherence and continuity of the community are under threat.16 Involuntary displacement, in particular, creates a radical break between the lived experience of the present and that of the past. This discontinuity must somehow be overcome if the community is going to survive in recognisable form. Stories about the past are particularly powerful tools for such efforts: they assert an essential continuity between that past and this present, reconstructing the imagined community as one that bridges what was and what is.17 In the process, they help to reconstruct social networks broken down by dislocation, dismemberment, and death.18 Moreover, by arguing that the reasons for Israel’s present suffering may be located in Israel’s past behaviour, Ezekiel’s historicising re-establishes an orderly, just cosmos. The disaster was not a random or inexplicable event, but one that conforms to expected relationships between causes and their effects. Indeed, says Ezekiel, the cause of Israel’s disaster may be easily identified: Israel failed to worship YHWH alone, and was punished. If the community wishes to secure a more peaceful future – one in which Israel continues to exist, clearly demarcated from non-Israelites – its members must reinstitute the exclusive worship of YHWH immediately. Only then may Israel look forward to its eventual restoration.

15  Ezekiel progressively differentiates between the true Israel, which is in Babylonia, and those who used to be part of Israel but can no longer claim to be, who are still in Jerusalem. The distinction is again linked to boundary maintenance; those taken to Babylonia have previously sinned in this regard but are being given an opportunity to repent and restore an exclusively Yahwistic praxis, and thus remain “Israel,” whereas those who are still in Jerusalem are persisting in assimilatory practices and thereby denying the distinction that would allow them to retain their Israelite identity. 16  Bellah et al, Habits of the Heart, 153. 17  See e. g., Peteet, “Transforming Trust.” On imagined communities, originally Anderson, Imagined Communities, and since adopted by a variety of disciplines, including migration studies, as a means of articulating the abstract and ideological aspects of social communities, over and above their practical expressions. 18  Note how the book climaxes with a vivid description of Israel’s revivification (Ezek 37:1– 14).



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4.  The Egyptian Diaspora’s Account: Failure to Reject Exclusive Yahwism The Judahite refugees who fled to Egypt in the wake of Gedaliah’s assassination offer a diametrically opposed explanation for what has happened to the kingdom and its inhabitants. Rather than exclusive Yahwism providing the solution to their problems, this group presents exclusive Yahwism as the cause. Though much briefer than Ezekiel’s account, this alternative explanation of the situation shares its key characteristics, linking corporate disaster to the abandonment of a key marker of community identity. The Egypt refugees’ explanation for what has happened to them appears in the midst of their dispute with the prophet Jeremiah over religious praxis in Egypt (Jer 44). According to Jeremiah, this group of migrants has re-instituted the same non-Yahwistic religious practices that led to Judah’s downfall. Especially striking, in light of Ezekiel’s concern about the dangers of assimilation, is that Jeremiah (whose voice, in the final form of the book, is that of the Babylonian deportees) condemns the Egyptian diaspora in terms that imply that their non-Yahwistic worship is a case of assimilation. Like other Judahites previously evicted from the land, they had made offerings to gods “whom they had not known – neither they, nor you, nor your ancestors” (44:3). Rather than taking the consequences wrought upon their predecessors as a warning, however, the community in Egypt is now also “making offerings to other gods, in the land of Egypt” (44:8). They will therefore – according to Jeremiah – be subject to the same judgment: “I will punish those who live in the land of Egypt as I have punished Jerusalem, with sword, with famine, and with pestilence” (44:11). The cost of this (purported) assimilation to foreign, non-exclusively-Yahwistic practices is explicit: ‘none of the remnant of Judah who have come to settle in the land of Egypt shall escape or survive or return to the land of Judah. Although they long to go back to live there, they shall not go back (except some fugitives)’ (44:14). As in Ezekiel, Jeremiah identifies a purified form of community practice as a prerequisite for return to the homeland. If the community fails to (re)institute an exclusive Yahwism, then they forfeit the right of return. The migrants’ response to Jeremiah’s accusations is focused on their worship of an unnamed female goddess, who is identified with her honorific title, the Queen of Heaven.19 Whereas Jeremiah condemns this worship, suggesting that the sack of Jerusalem and the destruction of the kingdom were triggered by this and other non-Yahwistic religious practices, the refugee community offers a very different interpretation of the source of their current distress. The crime that led to Jerusalem and Judah’s devastation, they contend, was not the inhabitants’ 19  There has been extensive debate over the identity of this deity, but the issue is irrelevant here. See Quine, Casting Down the Host of Heaven, 157, with further references.

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failure to abide by the tenets of exclusive Yahwism, but exclusive Yahwism itself. They explain: “We used to have plenty of food, and prospered, and saw no misfortune. But from the time we stopped making offerings to the Queen of Heaven and pouring out libations to her, we have lacked everything and have perished by the sword and by famine” (44:17–18). The refugees’ re-introduction of the worship of the Queen of Heaven in Egypt is, this reasoning suggests, designed to re-institute a cultural practice whose neglect has endangered the community’s collective existence. Only if this is done, they imply, will Judah’s restoration be within reach. This episode represents, in microcosm, an intense argument over the interpretation of the kingdom’s downfall and the dispersal of its inhabitants. The voice of Jeremiah represents the Babylonian deportees and echoes the book of Ezekiel: the root of the problem is a failure of exclusive Yahwism. The Egypt refugees give voice to the opposing argument: exclusive Yahwism led to the abandonment of traditional Queen of Heaven worship and disaster. Though conflicting in their conclusions, the words attributed to the Egypt refugees offer a mirror image of Ezekiel’s moralised historicising: the present is explained by the past, and survival depends on adopting the right kind of behaviour in future.

5. Conclusions Both of these migrant communities identify the cause of their displacement as a matter of cultural practice, arguing that the disasters they have experienced occurred because a defining practice of the group was abandoned. The practices they identify as essential, however, are diametrically opposed: whereas Ezekiel identifies exclusive Yahwism as the core of Israelite cultural identity, the community in Egypt views it as an aberrant deviation from Judah’s older cultural traditions. Although the Babylonian deportees are ultimately (canonically) triumphant, Jeremiah’s brief account of the refugee community in Egypt texts recalls a period after the kingdom’s demise in which the interpretation of the past was still a point of contention. Noting that divergent explanations of this kind thrive when “the collective memory is still dispersed among a multitude of spatially separated small communities,” Maurice Halbwachs observed that, at such a time, what distinguishes heresies from more or less orthodox doctrines is not that the first are inspired by the present or the recent past while the others draw on an ancient past; rather it is the way in which each recalls and understands the same period of the past which is still close enough for there to exist a great variety of remembrances and of witnesses.20

20 Halbwachs,

On Collective Memory, 94.



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Though they do so in divergent ways, both communities remember the downfall of the kingdom and the displacement of its inhabitants in ways that explain the present in terms of the past. The self-ascriptions used by the two communities suggest that their disagreements are, at least in part, motivated by differing backgrounds in the homeland. Ezekiel insistently identifies the community at Chebar as “Israel.” The community in Egypt, by contrast, is consistently referred to as “Judah.” Although space precludes a full exploration of this issue here, I  have argued elsewhere that the Israelite community deported with Ezekiel was composed largely of Jerusalemite elites, and that this “Israel” was distinct from the general population of the kingdom.21 The latter may already have been known as “Judahites” prior to Jerusalem’s surrender, although there is very limited evidence of this in the surviving literature. What is clear is that a distinctively “Judahite” identity became substantially more important in the wake of the kingdom’s collapse, and that this development is convincingly understood as a consequence of the repeated displacements that took place at that time, together with the experience of alterity arising from the Babylonian presence in Yehud. By the time some remnant of this group fled to Egypt, this homeland contingent had coalesced around “Judah” as their identity term of choice. Relevant for present purposes is that this nascent community of Judahites comprised a far more diverse cross-section of the former kingdom’s population than did the Israelite community in Babylonia. Whereas the latter were the kingdom’s elites, mostly from Jerusalem, the former included people from all around Judah. Some of these originated in urban Jerusalem, but others were from smaller towns and villages; some were of the traditional elites of the land, but others were from the rural poor. Some were military, others were civilians. And, crucially: some may have been exclusively Yahwistic – those whose origins were in Jerusalem, alongside or among those who considered themselves Yahwistic Israelites, perhaps – but many were not.22 In light of the growing consensus that religion in Judah prior to its collapse was more diverse than claims made by the biblical texts might suggest, and that the sixth century was a crucial time in the development of a more rigorously exclusive Yahwism, it is worth drawing attention to the fact that involuntary migrants tend to develop greater rigidity in their religious praxis than is adopted 21 Crouch,

Israel and Judah Redefined. biblical evidence, together with the archaeological and iconographic repertoire, all but unanimously admits that the general population of Judah worshipped a traditional Levantine pantheon, rather than adhering to the YHWH-alone cult that the biblical authors ultimately champion; see, e. g., Stavrakopoulou and Barton, Religious Diversity in Ancient Israel and Judah; Hadley, The Cult of Asherah in Ancient Israel and Judah; Keel and Uehlinger. Göttinnen, Götter und Gottessymbole. That Ezekiel and those it represents sought to blame the disaster on this religious diversity merely underlines the point. 22 The

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among those left behind in the homeland.23 This may arise from a need to focus on a limited repertoire of distinguishing characteristics  – elements of group practice that are distinctive but also sustainable in a different context – which become fixed, or even fossilised, over time. In this vein, Ezekiel – and other texts that adopt the deportees’ religious perspective – have seized upon and intensified an Israelite tendency towards exclusive Yahwism, as a means of reinforcing an Israelite identity threatened by displacement. The refugees in Egypt, in their turn, have become adamant proponents of the Queen of Heaven, as they seek to re-establish their links with a polytheistic Levantine homeland and to prepare themselves for return to it. Determined to salvage something of the past with which to construct their post-displacement identities, neither group is prepared to budge. The results are incompatible – but the methods are the same.

Bibliography Alstola, T., Judeans in Babylonia: A Study of Deportees in the Sixth and Fifth Centuries BCE (CHANE 109; Leiden, 2020). Anderson, B. R. O’G., Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (London, 2016). Bellah, R. N. et al., Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life (Berkeley, 1985). Bourdieu, P., Outline of a Theory of Practice (trans. R. Nice; CSSA 16; Cambridge, 1977). Chatty, D., Displacement and Dispossession in the Modern Middle East (Cambridge, 2010). Cohen, A. P., The Symbolic Construction of Community (London, 1985). Crouch, C. L., Israel and Judah Redefined: Migration, Trauma and Empire in the Sixth Century BCE (SOTSMS; Cambridge, 2021). Davidson, S. V., “‘Exoticizing the Otter’: The Curious Case of the Rechabites in Jeremiah 35,” in: Prophecy and Power: Jeremiah in Feminist and Postcolonial Perspective (ed. C. M. Maier/C. J. Sharp; LHBOTS 577; London, 2013), 188–207. Hadley, J. M., The Cult of Asherah in Ancient Israel and Judah: Evidence for a Hebrew Goddess (Cambridge, 2000). Halbwachs, M., On Collective Memory (ed./trans. L. A. Coser; Heritage of Sociology; London, 1992). Hollenbach, D., “Religion and Forced Migration,” in: The Oxford Handbook of Refugee and Forced Migration Studies (ed. E. Fiddian-Qasmiyeh et al.; Oxford, 2014), 447–459. Jones, S., The Archaeology of Ethnicity: Constructing Identities in the Past and Present (London, 1997). Keel, O./Uehlinger, C., Göttinnen, Götter und Gottessymbole: Neue Erkenntnisse zur Religionsgeschichte Kanaans und Israels aufgrund bislang unerschlossener ikonographischer Quellen (Freiburg, 1992). Malkki, L. H., Purity and Exile: Violence, Memory, and National Cosmology among Hutu Refugees in Tanzania (Chicago, 1995). 23 Chatty, Displacement and Dispossession, 131; Hollenbach, “Religion and Forced Migration.”



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Pearce, L./Wunsch, C., Documents of Judean Exiles and West Semites in Babylonia in the Collection of David Sofer (CUSAS 28; Bethesda, 2014). Peteet, J. M., “Transforming Trust: Dispossession and Empowerment among Palestinian Refugees,” in: Mistrusting Refugees (ed. E. V. Daniel/J. C. Knudsen; Berkeley, 1995), 168–186. Pohlmann, K.‑F., Studien zum Jeremiabuch: Ein Beitrag zur Frage nach der Entstehung des Jeremiasbuches (FRLANT 118; Göttingen, 1978). Quine, C., Casting Down the Host of Heaven: The Rhetoric of Ritual Failure in the Polemic against the Host of Heaven (OtSt 78; Leiden, 2020). Reimer, D. J., “There – But Not Back Again: Forced Migration and the End of Jeremiah,” HeBAI 7 (2018): 359–375. Saïd, E. W., “Reflections on Exile,” in: Out There: Marginalization and Contemporary Cultures (ed. R. Fergeson et al.; Cambridge, 1990). Sayigh, R., “The Palestinian Identity among Camp Residents,” Journal of Palestine Studies 6 (1977): 3–22. Seitz, C. R., Theology in Conflict: Reactions to the Exile in the Book of Jeremiah (BZAW 176; Berlin, 1989). Sharp, C. J., Prophecy and Ideology in Jeremiah: Struggles for Authority in the DeuteroJeremianic Prose (OTS; London, 2003). Stavrakopoulou, F./Barton, J. (ed.), Religious Diversity in Ancient Israel and Judah (London, 2010). Strine, A., “Embracing Asylum Seekers and Refugees: Jeremiah 29 as Foundation for a Christian Theology of Migration and Integration,” Political Theology 19 (2018): 478–496. Wunsch, C./Pearce, L. E., Judeans by the Waters of Babylon: New Historical Evidence in Cuneiform Sources from Rural Babylonia (Babylonische Archive 6; Dresden) (forthcoming). Zureik, E., “Theoretical and Methodological Considerations for the Study of Palestinian Society,” Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East 23 (2003): 152–162.

Leviticus 26 and the Pro-Babylonian-Golah and Pro-Diaspora Redactions in the Context of Identity Formation and Conflict of Yahwistic Groups in the Persian Period* Kishiya Hidaka 1. Introduction Leviticus 26 is not only the concluding text of the Holiness Legislations,1 Heiligkeitsgesetz in German, but also it is an unusual chapter in the Pentateuch, as the themes of the exile and the restitution of Israel become visible here. Despite the narrative timeline setting of the Pentateuch in the Exodus narrative, which stands much earlier to the (Babylonian or even the Assyrian) exile in the large narrative context of the Enneateuch, the theological themes of “exile and restitution” explicitly appear here. In line with other Pentateuchal passages that explicitly narrate the event of the exile (Deut 4 and 28–30),2 Lev 26 holds its distinctive theological inclination toward the community (or communities) that goes through the exile and the restitution from it. While Lev 26 is a text that belongs to the Pentateuch, it reflects a noteworthy literary and theological relationship with the prophetic books of Jeremiah and Ezekiel that present contrasting theological evaluations and categorizations regarding the Babylonian Golah and the other diaspora, who were scattered widely in many parts of the world following the Babylonian invasion. Leviticus 26 not only stands in a line of literary influences between those prophetic passages, but also the literary formation of this text reflects the discussion on the problems of the different identities and categorizations of the Babylonian Golah and the other diaspora, as I shall discuss below. *  I would like to thank my colleague Moritz F. Adam (Zürich) for correcting and improving the English of this article. Nevertheless, I alone am responsible for all the possible errors and mistakes. 1  Here, I use the term “Holiness Legislations,” which was proposed by Schwartz, “Introduction,” 1–10. Cf. also Nihan, “Leviticus 26:39–46,” 305 n. 1. 2  Many scholars have observed the similarities between the textual structures in Deut 4; 28–30; and Lev 26, all of which speak of curse and promise, the exile as punishment and the promised restitution. On this possible theological proximity between Deut 4; 28–30; and Lev 26, see, e. g., the seminal work, Steck, Israel, 139–143. The theology of the repentance of sin is one of the main common theological features shared by Deut 4; 28–30; and Lev 26.

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2.  The Theological and Literary Analysis of Lev 26 and Its Theme of Exile The concept of the exile and restitution is especially developed in the latter part of Lev 26, namely, vv. 32–45. Here, a clear mention of the issues of exile and the restitution from this state is emphasized: 32 And I will devastate the land, so that your enemies who come to dwell in it will be appalled at it. 33 And I  will scatter you among the nations, and I  will draw the sword against you. And your land will be a desolation, and your cities a waste.   34 Then the land will restore its Sabbaths during all the days it is desolated, while you are in the land of your enemies (‫)בארץ איביכם‬. Then the land (‫ )הארץ‬will take a rest and restore its Sabbaths. 35 All the days it is desolated, it will take the rest that it did not have on your Sabbaths when you were dwelling on it.   36 And as for those of you who survive (‫)והנשארים בכם‬, I will let weakness come into their hearts in the lands of their enemies (‫)בארצת איביהם‬. And the sound of a driven leaf will pursue them, and they will flee as the flight from the sword, and they will fall down, even though no one pursues. 37 They will stumble over one another, as if in front of a sword, even though no one pursues. And there will be no power in you to stand against your enemies.   38 And you will perish among the nations, and the land of your enemies (‫)ארץ איביכם‬ will devour you. 39 And those of you who survive (‫ )והנשארים בכם‬will rot in the lands of your enemies (‫ )בארצת איביכם‬because of their iniquities. And also they will rot because of the iniquities of their ancestors with them.   40 But if they confess their iniquity and the iniquity of their ancestors, in their sin that they committed to me and, also, that they walked with me in hostility, 41 – [because of which] I would also walk with them in hostility and I would bring them into the land of their enemies (‫)בארץ איביהם‬ – and [if ] then their uncircumcised heart will be humbled and then they will amend their iniquity, 42 I will remember my covenant with Jacob and also my covenant with Isaac and also my covenant with Abraham. And I will remember the land. 43 For the land will be abandoned by them, and it will restore its Sabbaths by being desolate without them. And they will amend their iniquity, because they rejected my judgement, and they abhorred my statutes.   44 Yet for this, when they are in the land of their enemies (‫)בארץ איביהם‬, I do not reject them and do not abhor them so as to destroy them utterly and break my covenant with them, because I am YHWH their God. 45 And I will remember for them the covenant with their ancestors whom I brought out of the land of Egypt before the eyes of the nations, to be God to them. I am YHWH. (Leviticus 26:32–45)

Verses 32–39 concentrate on the description of the destruction coming toward the Israelites and from v. 40 onwards the theme of the restitution for those who repent and confess their sins emerges. Here, this restitution is initiated by the act of YHWH remembering the covenant with the ancestor figures of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob3. 3 See, e. g., Nihan, “Priestly Covenant,” 104–115. Also, even though both Pentateuchal texts of Lev 26 and Deut 4 focus on the similar concepts of the exile and restitution, significant differences in the understanding of covenant theology exist here. YHWH does not forget the



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Especially in Lev 26, the restitution is associated with the concept of the Sabbath of the land. This exceptional concept, which is elaborated in Lev 26:43, also appears in 2 Chr 36:21 and pertains to the account of the Babylonian exile and deportation of the people from the land.4 Importantly, this concept of the Sabbath seems to reflect the implicit theological presupposition that those who are taken away from the land by the Babylonian deportation will eventually return to the land because the Sabbath rest of the land is not a perpetual state but is a temporally limited institution. This is especially explicit in 2 Chr 36:21, which clearly points to the end date of this Sabbath state of the land, as 70 years.5 The theme of the land comprises the central theological position in Lev 26. However, there are two different categorizations of the land in this chapter, namely, the promised land and the land of enemies. The Singular Form Texts

The Plural Form Texts

34 while you are in the land of your enemies (‫)בארץ איביכם‬ 38 and the land of your enemies (‫ארץ‬ ‫ )איביכם‬will devour you 41 I would also walk with them in hostility and I would bring them into the land of their enemies (‫)בארץ איביהם‬. 44 Yet for this, when they are in the land of their enemies (‫)בארץ איביהם‬

36 And as for those of you who survive (‫)והנשארים בכם‬, I will let weakness come into their hearts in the lands of their enemies (‫)בארצת איביהם‬. 39 And those of you who survive (‫והנשארים‬ ‫ )בכם‬will rot in the lands of your enemies (‫ )בארצת איביכם‬because of their iniquities.

A change in the number of ‫ ארץ‬and ‫ ארצת‬can be detected within Lev 26:27–45. The mentions of land in vv. 33, 34a, 42, and 43 is about the land of Israel, and of course, this comes in the singular form.6 The problem lies in the mention of the land in vv. 34b, 36, 38, 39, 41, and 44. The singular form appears in vv. 34b, 38, 41, and 44.7 In vv. 36 and 39, the plural form is used. Verse 36 might possibly be a later interpolation since the expression of v. 37 is repeated in similar forms in v. 36b. Also, importantly, the LXX reading here uses the expression indicating the singular instead of the plural form of the MT (cf. also, Syriac Peshitta for v.

covenant in Deut 4, but in Lev 26 YHWH remembers the covenant. This act of remembrance presupposes the state of forgetting for a period of time, which seems to be a time of exile. 4  See, e. g., Hieke, Levitikus 16–27, 1085–1086. 5  For the relationship between Lev 26 and 2 Chr 36, see, e. g., Maskow, Tora in der Chronik, 142 ff. 6  Leviticus 26 has a prominent conception of the “Sabbath” of the Land. Leviticus 26, as a part of Holiness Legislations, might have formulated its unique theological understanding of the exile, focusing on the “purity” of the land, which is one of the central theological themes of the Holiness Legislations. On this problem, see Nihan, From Priestly Torah, 540–541. 7 The Samaritan Pentateuch has the reading of plural instead of the singular in v. 44. However, this phenomenon is attested only by the Samaritan Pentateuch, contrary to other major testimonies in LXX, Vulgate, Targum, and Peshitta.

208

Kishiya Hidaka

39!).8 Verse 39 shows similar characteristics as v. 36, by repeating the theme of the destruction in the land of enemies. Thus, it looks as though vv. 36 and 39 seem to create the inclusion of the textual block of vv. 37–38, which describes the downfall in a foreign land.9 The singular form of the land seems to be original since it directly connects the text block of vv. 37–38 to vv. 40–45, in addition to the textual witness from the LXX reading that points to singular in this textual block. If this is the case, the interpolation or the change of the singular to plural in vv. 36 and 39 is the result of a later redaction, which aimed to reflect the situation of the diaspora dispersed in several foreign lands.10 Therefore, the original text with the singular form of the land might reflect the explanation of the Babylonian exile with the focus on the Babylonian-Golah group. There remains a problem regarding v. 38. Verse 38 describes the destruction of the Babylonian-Golah group in the land of the enemy. This concept of destruction will make the restitution of the Babylonian Golah unfeasible because there will be no Golah that survived after this event. It seems quite probable that this text of v. 38 holds an anti-Golah sentiment. This tendency of ideology is also shared by vv. 27–32, 36a, 37b, and 39. Correspondently, for the mention of the Israelites, the 3rd person plural is used in vv. 36aβ–37a, 39aβ–b, and 40–45, but the 2nd person plural in vv. 36aα, 37b–38, and 39aα. 3rd person plural in vv. 36aβ–37a, 39aβ–b, 40–45

2nd person plural in vv. 36aα, 37b–38, 39aα

36aβb I will let weakness come into their hearts in the land [LXX!] of their enemies. And the sound of a driven leaf will pursue them, and they will flee as the flight from the sword, and they will fall down, even though no one pursues. 37a They will stumble over one another, as if in front of a sword, even though no one pursues. 39aβb because of their iniquities. And also they will rot (‫ )ימקו‬because of the iniquities of their ancestors with them.

36aα And as for those of you who survive (‫)והנשׁארים בכם‬ 37b And there will be no power in you to stand against your enemies. 38 And you will perish among the nations, and the land of your enemies will devour you. 39aα And those of you who survive (‫ )והנשׁארים בכם‬will rot in the land [LXX and Peshitta!] of your enemies

8 The LXX translator tends to use different words to emphasize the plural form of “land (‫( ”)ארץ‬cf. Jer 16:15; 23:8; Ezek 5:5, 6; 6:8; 11:17; 12:15; 20:23, 34, 41; 22:4, 15; 25:7; 30:7, 23, 26; 35:10; 36:19; 39:27; Psa 105:44; 106:27; 107:23; Dan 9:7; 2 Chr 15:5; Isa 36:20; Ezra 9:7, 11. Also, see 2 Kgs 18:35; 19:11; Ezek 36:24; Ezra 3:3; 9:1, 2). For example, LXX Ezek 34:13 uses ἀπὸ τῶν χωρῶν for ‫­­מן הארצות‬, but v. 25 has ἀπὸ τῆς γῆς as a translation of ‫מן הארץ‬. Ezek 34 and Lev 26 prominently share several common words and concepts (see, the discussion below). Therefore, the LXX translator of Lev 26 seems to reflect the possible original reading of the singular of the land here. Notably, the Peshitta reading attests to the singular form of the “land” in v. 39. 9 Cholewiński, Heiligkeitsgesetz, 128–130. 10  Contrary to this, see, e. g., Kilian, Literarkritische, 152.



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Reflecting this change from the 2nd person to the 3rd person in vv. 36–45, which tell of the situation of the exiled people, it can be concluded that the textual block written in the 2nd person holds different perspectives than the textual block written in the 3rd person by its non-Golah-centered thought. However, the 3rd person texts indicate a pro-Babylonian-Golah stance toward the description of this exile and the restitution (vv. 40–45!).11 In these original 3rd person Golah-oriented texts, the Israelites are entirely described as people who went into only one country, namely, in this case, Babylonia.12 The 2nd person textual block, along with the revision of the plural form of the “lands” in vv. 27–39 might have an aim to reorient and widen this Golah-centered way of thinking in Lev 26 to include the entire diaspora.13 The important question that creates the dividing point is whether the restitution takes place in one single land or at many places. In the former case, the Babylonian Golah is thought of as the recipient of this restitution, but in the latter case, the widespread diaspora would be the target group. This is the remarkable literary and ideological character that Lev 26 diverges widely from many other Pentateuchal passages that speak of exile and restitution. For example, Deut 4:25–27; 28:37, 28:64–65, and 30:1–5 have mention of the restitution from many lands.14 Leviticus 26* thinks of only one land as the place of restitution, and this will be a key point to understand the theological tendencies and orientations of this text. 11  Although v. 29b seems to be presupposing the destruction of the Golah-group, it serves as a bridge to the restitution part of vv. 40 ff. 12  See Müller, “Prophetic View,” 221; Nihan, “Leviticus 26:39–46,” 315. 13  On the contrary, one possibility that cannot be completely rejected is that the plural form of “the lands of enemies” in vv. 36 and 39 might be a critical polemic toward those who remained (‫ )נשׁארים‬in the land at the Babylonian invasion. Interestingly, Dalit Rom-Shiloni claims that Ezek 4–5 receives the text of Lev 26 and the writer of these chapters perceived “the difference between Lev 26:33–39 and 40–45, and their juxtaposition,” so that the writer of these chapters in Ezekiel applied the prediction of the annihilation to “Those Who Remained [sic.] in Jerusalem from the 597 [B. C. E.] exile till the city’s destruction in 586 B. C. E. [sic.]” and saw the signification for the “continuation and restoration for the Jehoiachin Exiles” in the promises in Lev 26:40–45 (Rom-Shiloni, Exclusive Inclusivity, 178). However, this sociological differentiation between the Jehoiachin-exile and the others might have already existed in the composition of Lev 26 itself. There is also a suggestion of an anti-diaspora theology that emphasizes the destruction of the diaspora who were scattered in several “lands of enemies,” as in a similar ideological concept of the anti-Egyptian-diaspora sentiment that can be seen in the pro-Babylonian-Golah passages of Jer 42–44*. In Lev 26*, the destruction would apply to the widespread diaspora who went into several lands of enemies, but the restitution is from the one single land only. Also, one possible verse that hints at the concept of scattering into multiple places is v. 33 with the expression ‫ואתכם אזרה בגוים‬. However, this verse uses the 2nd person plural, so that this text belongs to the same literary level as other 2nd person plural texts that imply an orientation toward the diaspora. 14  For example, Deut 4:27 uses the hiphil form of the verb ‫ פוץ‬to describe the scattered state of those who face the situation of exile.

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Kishiya Hidaka

Leviticus 26* seems to intentionally concentrate its concept of exile and restitution on the one community that was deported into one single land.15 The motif of the “exodus from Egypt” in Lev 26:45 supports this view on the Babylonian-Golah orientation in Lev 26*, for it can correspond to the theme of the “exodus from Babylonia.” Leviticus 26:45 seems to connect the literary motif of “exodus from Egypt” to the concept of exile in Lev 26:40–44. In this case, as in the exodus from Egypt, which took place in a single land, Lev 26 presupposes that the restoration is only possible from a single land, i. e., Babylonia. This prominent and exclusive theological orientation toward the Babylonian Golah is an ideological concept that can otherwise be found in the pro-Babylonian-Golah redactions in the books of Jeremiah and Ezekiel, to which we turn now.

3.  Pro-Babylonian-Golah Redactions and Pro-Diaspora Redactions in Jeremiah and Ezekiel It was Karl-Friedrich Pohlmann who first discovered and discussed the differences of the conceptualizations and categorizations between the Babylonian Golah and the diaspora in the book of Jeremiah, and later, Ezekiel. In his 1978 monograph, Pohlmann identified a redactional layer in Jeremiah that pays exclusive attention and is oriented toward the first Babylonian Golah, or the Jehoiachin Golah, who were deported in 597 BCE.16 He named this redactional layer die golaorientierte Redaktion, in English, the “Golah-oriented redaction.” Here, I use a variant and modified name for this redaction, “pro-BabylonianGolah redaction,” for several reasons.17 One of the reasons is that the exclusive 15  This observation is further supported by the presupposition of Deut 28* in Lev 26*. Leviticus 26* presupposes, at least, the original core of Deut 28*. The texts of Deut 28:23–24 and Lev 26:19–20 are parallel with the noticeable distinction of the mention of rain. While Deut 28:24 mentions the rain as the tool of destruction that will be used by YHWH, Lev 26:19– 20 does not refer to the rain because the rain in Lev 26 already has a positive image and is connected to the graceful act of YHWH, as in Lev 26:4. The version of Deut 28:23–24 reflects the phrases that appear in VTE § 63–64, which describes the image of the curse as it turns the earth into the iron and the sky into the bronze, in addition to the narrative structure that Moses is taking the position of the suzerain Esarhaddon in Deut 28*, contrary to Lev 26*, where God directly speaks. These features of Deut 28* and Lev 26* reveal that Deut 28* is earlier than Lev 26*, and Lev 26* presupposes and receives the influences from the text of Deut 28*. See Otto, Deuteronomium 23,16–34,12, 1994–1995. See also Nihan, From Priestly Torah, 535–545. If this is the case, then Lev 26* might have intentionally eliminated the mentions of the widespread diaspora in Deut 28:36–37, 63–65*. 16 Pohlmann, Studien zum Jeremiabuch. 17  Some recent scholars modify the German terminology golaorientierte Redaktion to ProGola Redaktion. See Nihan, “Ezechiel,” 412–429; Bührer, “Ezechiel und die Priesterschrift,” 175–202; Koch, Gottes himmlische Wohnstatt, 133–189; idem, “Vorstellungen,” 207–229. The exclusive claims of the “pro-Babylonian-Golah redaction” is more than just the sole “orientation.”



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211

and intensive claims of the passages of this redaction are more than “orientation,” and the sole mention of the word “Golah” will be misleading because the Hebrew word “Golah” can mean those who are exiled and possibly applicable even to the other diaspora.18 Pohlmann later found homogeneous redaction, which support the exclusive focus on the Babylonian Golah in the book of Ezekiel.19 At the same time, he noticed that, in the book of Ezekiel, there exist redactional passages that focus on the diaspora and revise the exclusive claims of the pro-Babylonian-Golah redaction. His two-volume commentary on the book of Ezekiel in the series of Das Alte Testament Deutsch is focusing on the pro-Babylonian-Golah redaction and pro-diaspora redactions as the constitutive literary developmental elements for the entire composition of the book of Ezekiel.20 3.1  Jeremiah 24: The Central Passage of Pro-Babylonian-Golah Redactions The explicit and crucial division between the Babylonian Golah and the diaspora in the ideology of the pro-Babylonian-Golah redactions can be observed especially in Jer 24. This text poses an explicit and sharp distinction between the Babylonian Golah of 597 BCE and the diaspora, including those who remained in the land: 1 YHWH showed me [the following (vision)]: Two baskets of figs placed before the temple of YHWH. [This was] after Nebuchadnezzar, the king of Babylon, had taken Jeconiah, the son of Jehoiakim, the king of Judah, the chiefs of Judah, the craftsmen, and the smiths from Jerusalem into exile. And he brought them to Babylon.   2 One basket had very good figs, as the figs of the first-ripe, but the other basket had very bad figs, which were so bad that they could not be eaten.   3 And YHWH said to me, “What do you see, Jeremiah?” And I said, “Figs, the good figs are very good, and the bad ones are very bad, so bad that they cannot be eaten.”   4 And the word of YHWH came to me, saying:   5 “Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel. Like these good figs, I will recognize the Golah (‫ )גלות‬of Judah as good, that I have sent away from this place to the land of the Chaldeans.   6 And I will set my eyes upon them for good. And I will bring them up to this land. And I will build them up, and I will not destroy them. And I will plant them, and I will not pluck them up. See, e. g., Jer 24, which is one of the central passages of the pro-Babylonian-Golah redactions. This redaction polemically separates the Babylonian Golah from other Jewish groups including diaspora and those who remained in the land. Therefore, reflecting the ideological aspects and characteristics of this redaction, “pro-Babylonian-Golah redaction” will be a better term for scholarly use. 18  For example, the Egyptian diaspora is labelled “Egyptian Golah” in some contexts. 19 Pohlmann, Ezechielstudien. 20 Pohlmann, Hesekiel: Kapitel 1–19; idem, Hesekiel: Kapitel 20–48.

212

Kishiya Hidaka

  7 And I will give them a heart to know (‫ )לב לדﬠת‬me that I am YHWH. And they will be my people to me and I will be God to them, for they will return (‫ )ישׁבו‬to me with the all of their heart.   8 And like the bad figs that are so bad that they cannot be eaten, thus says YHWH, I will treat King Zedekiah of Judah, his chiefs, the remnant of Jerusalem (‫ )שׁארית ירושׁלם‬that remains in this land, and those who live in the land of Egypt (‫)בארץ מצרים‬.   9 And I will set them to horror and to evil to all the kingdoms of the earth; a reproach and a byword, a taunt and a curse in all the places to which I will drive them away.   10 And I will send sword (‫)החרב‬, famine (‫)הרﬠב‬, and pestilence (‫ )הדבר‬upon them, until they are completely destroyed from the land that I gave to them and their ancestors.” (Jeremiah 24:1–10)

Here, the good fig is thought to be the first Babylonian Golah of 597 BCE, deported with King Jehoiachin, and the bad figs are those who remained in the land with King Zedekiah and those who escaped to Egypt. The theological and ideological program of Jer 24 imposes a clear differentiation between the Babylonian Golah and the other groups, including the diaspora.21 3.2  The Pro-Babylonian-Golah Redaction in Ezekiel The same concept of the exclusive orientation toward the Babylonian Golah can be found in several texts in the book of Ezekiel.22 The book of Ezekiel seems to have served to support the identity of the Babylonian Golah at some literary developmental stages before it reached its final form. According to Pohlmann, the book of Ezekiel received redactional expansions from redactors who had an exclusive orientation toward the first Babylonian Golah of 597 BCE and redactors who had concerns for the entire diaspora.23 For example, the Babylonian-Golah orientation in the book of Ezekiel is perceivable at the very beginning of the book of Ezekiel. In Ezek 1–3*, Ezekiel is thought to be a prophet in the Babylonian-Golah community, and he saw a vision of YHWH when he was among the Babylonian Golah near the river Chebar of Babylonia. The revelation of YHWH in the book of Ezekiel takes place for the Babylonian Golah who were away from Jerusalem. This pro-Babylonian-Golah book of Ezekiel seems to have received many redactional revisions to reorient it even to the entire diaspora.24 The traces of 21  For

a detailed analysis of Jer 24 and its exclusive pro-Babylonian-Golah ideology, see Pohlmann, Studien zum Jeremiabuch, 20–31, 183–197. 22  For example, Ezek 33:21–29* has a programmatic function to limit the receiver of the salvific oracle of Ezek 33–37* to the Babylonian Golah only. Ezekiel 33:21–29 rejects the possibility for those who remained in the land to continue their lives in the land of Israel. 23  See, e. g., Pohlmann, Hesekiel: Kapitel 1–19, 27–32; idem, Ezechielstudien, 131–134. 24  Some of these modifications seem to be made by the redactors and writers who had a favoring attitude toward the diaspora. I  here use the terminology “pro-diaspora redactions” for the redactions which focus on the situation of the diaspora with a favorable perspective on them. For the problem of the “pro-diaspora redactions,” see below.

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213

the effort of pro-diaspora redactions to mitigate this exclusive claim of the proBabylonian-Golah redaction can be seen, for example, in Ezek 39:25–29.

4.  Leviticus 26 and Pro-Babylonian-Golah Redactions in Jeremiah and Ezekiel Many scholars have focused on the problem of the literary relationship between Lev 26 and several passages of prophetic literature, especially that of Ezekiel. The precedence between the Holiness Legislations and Ezekiel used to be a huge issue for scholarly concerns. There seems to be no scholarly consensus so far, and several diverging results were proclaimed by many scholars.25 However, it must be noted here that these discussions often fall into the one-way question of the dependency of Ezekiel and H. At the same time, the problem of the dependency between the Holiness Legislations, or more precisely Lev 26, and Ezekiel seems not to be a one-way phenomenon. Rather, there are reciprocal dependencies and influences between them that must be evoked here, as I  shall discuss below.26 If the problem of dependency is taken into consideration, then the dependencies between the literary layers and blocks of the texts that existed at one phase of the developmental history of each literary corpus should be researched, but not the entire book of Ezekiel and the entire Holiness Legislations at one stroke. 4.1  Ezekiel 37* and the Pro-Babylonian-Golah Redaction Leviticus 26 and Ezekiel 37* share several significant literary motifs, words, and concepts. According to Pohlmann, Ezek 37*, except for vv. 11b, 12a, 14 (a text from the old prophetic book, which is yet presupposed in the pro-BabylonianGolah redaction), and 15–24, belongs to the pro-Babylonian-Golah redaction.27 The theme of the promise of the land in v. 12b and v. 14 continues into the motif of the settling of those people in this land in v. 25.28 The concept of the Babylonian-Golah orientations of Ezek 37* is also followed, for example, by Christophe Nihan.29 25 

For example, some studies see that Ezekiel postdates H: Lyons, From Law; Levitt Kohn, New Heart; see also Hurvitz, Linguistic Study. Against this idea, some scholars claim that H borrows from Ezekiel: Grünwaldt, Heiligkeitgesetz, esp. 376–377; Otto, “Innerbiblische Exegese,” 125–182 (esp. 179–182) [repr. in idem, Die Tora, 46–95 (esp. 92–95)]; Müller, “Prophetic View.” For a recent alternative option on this problem, see Nihan, “Ezekiel and the Holiness Legislation.” 26  See Nihan, “Ezekiel and the Holiness Legislation.” 27 Pohlmann, Hesekiel: Kapitel 20–48, 491–505. 28 Pohlmann, Hesekiel: Kapitel 20–48, 504–505; see also Rudnig, Heilig und Profan, 65–77. 29  Nihan suggests: “Im Gegenzug werden mit der Rückkehr der Gola-Gruppe von 597

214

Kishiya Hidaka

Several Maccabean-period redactional expansions seem to be added to this chapter of the pro-Babylonian-Golah passages to fuse together the descriptions of the visualized resurrection of the violently slain ones.30 Thus, the final form of this text might have more theological and eschatological implications on the resurrection than simply containing passages that focus on the restitution of the Babylonian Golah, which seems to be the initial primary emphasis of this text. For the overall structure of the book of Ezekiel, Ezek 37* plays a very important role. The connection of the prophecies and narrative part of the book of Ezekiel is created by this vision of the “dry bones,” which are, in a historical sense, the people of the exile,31 who will come back to the land as it is declared in v. 14, and by the theme of the new covenant with the assurance of the divine presence in the sanctuary. Ezekiel 37* in its older text parts unfolds the restitution of the exilic community who will come back to the land and the formation of the new eternal covenant with the promise of the co-existence of the sanctuary of YHWH, which grants the divine presence to this restituted exilic community. The theme of the sanctuary of YHWH forms the necessary literary bridge to the temple vision in Ezek 40–48* in the large context of the book of Ezekiel in its entirety.32 As it is pointed out by several scholars, some basic parts of this temple vision in Ezek 40–48* belong to the constitutive and elementary points of the literary structure of the pro-Babylonian-Golah redaction in the book of Ezekiel. In this book, there is a dating system that centers around the event of the Babylonian v. Chr. ausdrücklich die wiedergewonnene Fruchtbarkeit des Landes (35,1–36,15*) und die Wiederherstellung der traditionellen Ordnung, d. h. des davidischen Königtums (37,25–28), in Verbindung gebracht. Tatsächlich fasst die Prophezeiung von Ez 37,15–28 gar eine Wiedervereinigung von Nord- und Südreich und die Wiederherstellung des davidischen Reiches unter der Führung eines davidischen ‘Prinzen’ (‫ )נשׂיא‬ins Auge. Insofern muss man die Pro-Gola-Redaktion sicherlich im Zusammenhang sehen mit den Hoffnungen in den Statthalter Serubbabel, den bestimmte Kreise in Jerusalem als künftigen judäischen König betrachteten (vgl. ähnlich Sach 1–8). Andererseits muss man die Vision der Gebeine im Tal von Tel-Abib (Ez 37,1–10) und die sich anschließende Auslegung (37,11–14) als Ermahnung der Pro-Gola-Redaktion verstehen, die zur Rückkehr aus dem Exil aufruft, vergleichbar mit einigen Abschnitten des Deuterojesaja (vgl. z. B. Jes 52,11–12): Fern von ihrer Heimat und ihrem Heiligtum sind die Exilanten nur vertrocknete Gebeine; die Möglichkeit zur Rückkehr ist der große Akt der Wiedererschaffung, mit dem JHWH seinem Volk gewissermaßen das Leben zurückschenkt” (Nihan, “Ezechiel”, 423). 30  Schmid, “Ezechielbuch,” 368–369. Verses 7a, 8b–10* seem to belong to the Fortschreibung in the Maccabean period which focuses on the function of the spirit (‫ )רוח‬in the resurrection of individuals (ibid.). 31  The expression ‫ הﬠצמות האלה כל־בית ישׂראל‬in v. 11 can suggest that the entire people of Israel and Judah is meant here. Therefore, this verse supports the Gesamtisrael conception rather than the pro-Babylonian-Golah ideology. However, on the contrary, this text preferably identifies the “entire Israel” with the “dry bones in the valley.” The vision of the dry bones in the valley is strongly connected to other visions of the “glory of YHWH” in Ezek 1*, 8–11*, and 40–48*, as the passage Ezek 3:22–24a relates this valley with the vision of the “glory of YHWH.” Thus, Ezek 37:11 has the ideological intention to exclude the people who are not the Babylonian Golah from the definition of the “entire Israel.” 32  See Rudnig, Heilig und Profan, 76–77.

Leviticus 26 and the Pro-Babylonian-Golah and Pro-Diaspora Redactions



215

exile. Ezekiel 1:1–3; 33:21; and 40:1 refer back to its dating to the exilic event in 597 BCE. The temple vision in Ezek 40–48* belongs to the thematical line and literary context of the other visions in the book of Ezekiel, namely, the vision of the throne of YHWH in Ezek 1* and the vision of the departure of YHWH from Jerusalem in Ezek 8–11*, as Christoph Koch has recently demonstrated.33 All these visions serve the theological concept that takes an exclusively positive stance toward the Babylonian Golah. Ezekiel saw the vision of YHWH when he was with the first Babylonian Golah at the river Chebar. Also, the location of his vision of dry bones at “the valley” (‫ )הבקﬠה‬in Ezek 37:1 can be identified with the valley in Ezek 3:22–23, where the vision of the “glory of YHWH” at the river Chebar in Ezek 1* took place. 4.2  Leviticus 26 and Ezekiel 37* There are several common motifs in Lev 26 and the passages of the proBabylonian-Golah redaction in Ezek 37*. For example, both Lev 26:9 and Ezek 37:26 are marked by the theological motif of the covenant. In Lev 26:9, 42, 45, mentions of the covenant can be found. The covenant in Lev 26* is the covenant that cannot be broken, but it is remembered by YHWH. This covenant is connected to the theological concept of “peace,” as this theme is connected to the vision of peace in v. 6. A very similar concept of the covenant appears in Ezek 37:26, which might be seen as slightly advancing the theme of the covenant to say explicitly that it is a covenant of peace and adding another dimension of an “eternal covenant.”34 However, both motifs are already present in Lev 26 as a whole. The concept of the “eternal covenant” might reflect the Priestly covenant concept that appears, for example, in Gen 9:16 and 17:7, 13, 19.35 This phrase can even be found in Lev 24:8, which belongs to the Holiness Legislations.36 Contrary to this, the phrase ‫ ברית שׁלום‬only appears in Isa 54:10; Ezek 34:25; and 37:26. Leviticus 26:9

Ezekiel 37:26

And I will turn to you. And I will make you fruitful and multiply you. And I will put my covenant with you.

And I will make a covenant of peace with them. It will be an everlasting covenant with them. And I will establish them and I will multiply them. And I will establish my sanctuary in the midst of them forevermore.

33 Koch,

Gottes himmlische Wohnstatt, esp. 133–189. Milgrom, “Leviticus 26 and Ezekiel,” 60; Lyons, From Law, 149. 35  See Nihan, “Priestly Covenant,” 104–115; idem, From Priestly Torah, 542. 36  On this problem, see Nihan, “Priestly Covenant,” 91–115. 34 

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The multiplication of children appears in Lev 26:9 and Ezek 37:26. This phrase of “multiplicity” reflects the repeated words in P of Gen 1, “be fruitful and multiply” (‫)פרו ורבו‬.37 This phrasing appears rarely in Ezekiel and conforms with the context of Lev 26. Also, the LXX text of Ezek 37:26 lacks the mention of multiplicity. This indicates, as Nihan observed, that the mention of multiplicity in Ezek 37 MT might be a later redaction to create a closer relationship between P and Ezekiel.38 In addition to this, it is interesting to note that the order of the covenant and the multiplicity is rightly reversed in Lev 26:8 and Ezek 37:26. Leviticus 26:9 places the covenant after the multiplicity, but Ezek 37:26 seems to make it appear as though this multiplicity is a result of the covenant. From the narrative sequence of Ezekiel, the reason for the mention of the temple as the concluding remark is very clear. As attested in Papyrus 967, once Ezek 37* was directly connected to the temple vision account in Ezek 40–48*, Ezek 37:26, at least once, had the function of creating the literary bridge to this temple vision section.39 This is not surprising, as the promise of the temple marks the essential climax in the concept of salvation in Ezek 37*. Also, the sequence to v. 27 requires the mention of the temple at the latter part of v. 26 to make a smooth connection to v. 27 f. If the theme of the covenant appeared in the latter part of v. 26, the smooth connection to v. 27 would be hindered. Therefore, the sequence from the covenant to the temple in Ezek 37:26 seems to be original. In line with the reflection on Ezek 37:26, Lev 26:6 might reveal its influences also from the Priestly covenant passages of Gen 17:4–7, where the sequence provides firstly the multiplication and then the placement (‫ )קום‬of the covenant.40 The phraseology of Lev 26:9 seems to adopt it from the covenant theology passages in P of Gen 17.41 This could be one of the possible reasons for the seemingly reversed sequence between Ezek 37:26 and Lev 26:9. One of the other important common theological features is the understanding that the ‫ משׁכן‬of YHWH is among the Israelites in Lev 26:11 and Ezek 37:26–27. Leviticus 26:11–12

Ezekiel 37:26–27

11 And I will place my dwelling in the midst of you, and I will not abhor you. 12 And I will walk in the midst of you. And I will be God to you, and you will be a people to me.

26 And I will make a covenant of peace with them. It will be an everlasting covenant with them. And I will establish them and I will multiply them. And I will establish my sanctuary in the midst of them forevermore. 27 And my dwelling place will be upon them. And I will be God to them, and they will be a people to me.

37 

See Grünwaldt, Heiligkeitsgesetz, 352–353. Nihan, “Ezekiel and the Holiness Legislation,” 1031. 39  See Pohlmann, Hesekiel: Kapitel 20–48, 504–505; Rudnig, Heilig und Profan, 345. 40 Hieke, Levitikus 16–27, 1069. 41  Nihan, “Priestly Covenant,” 104–105. 38 

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The setting of this residential place of YHWH is shared by both texts, but there is a slight difference in this concept. Although Lev 26:11 tells that YHWH put his residential place among the Israelites, v. 12 says that the people become YHWH’s people by YHWH himself moving through his people. Ezekiel 37:27 simply connects the idea of the residential place among the Israelites with the concept of YHWH’s people. This is probably because the description of YHWH’s residential place of Ezek 37* is connected to Ezek 40–48*. Also, Pohlmann pointed out that the statement ‫ והיה משׁכני ﬠליהם‬in v. 27a is a later addition since it is “a doublet of v. 26bβ and presents a terminology that deviates from the context.”42 However, if the writer of Ezek 37* knew the text of Lev 26, then the phrase “I will not abhor you” in Lev 26:11 is peculiar because this phrase is not reflected in Ezek 37.43 This absence might indicate that Ezek 37* predates Lev 26. The concept of the Israelites as the people of YHWH and YHWH as the God of the Israelites in Lev 26:12–13 and Ezek 37:27 is also an important common feature. As stated above, the concept of YHWH’s people and YHWH as the God of the people is more strictly connected to the concept of the temple in Ezek 37. The mention of this sanctuary in Lev 26:11 within Lev 26 appears a little sudden, so that this mention of the dwelling place of YHWH seems original in the context of Ezek 37.44 These observations on the comparison between Lev 26 and Ezek 37* not only reveal the close similarity and relationship between Lev 26 and Ezek 37* but also hint at the possible literary precedence of Ezek 37* to Lev 26.45 These close 42 Pohlmann,

Hesekiel: Kapitel 20–48, 504. Nihan, “Ezekiel and the Holiness Legislation,” 1034. 44  Nihan, “Ezekiel and the Holiness Legislation,” 1032–1034. 45 Benjamin Kilchör denies the precedence of Lev 26 to Ezek 37* with the following arguments (Kilchör, “Überlegungen,” 295–306). Firstly, Ezek 37 frequently emphasizes the term ‫ﬠולם‬. The covenant concept in Ezek 37 is the ‫ברית ﬠולם‬, contrary to Lev 26 where this exact term does not appear. He even suggests the following: “Der Bund in Lev 26,9 ist nicht bleibend, er kam durch die Ereignisse des babylonischen Exils zu einem Ende. Doch der neue Friedensbund wird ein ‫ ברית ﬠולם‬sein (Ez 37,26a)” (ibid., 303–304). However, as shown above, the covenant theology of Lev 26 stands very close to the Priestly conception of the “unbroken covenant.” In addition to the fact that the phrase ‫ ברית ﬠולם‬appears in Lev 24:8, another passage in the Holiness Legislations on the covenant concept of Lev 26 does not conceive of the breaking of the covenant at the event of the Babylonian exile, as Kilchör mentions. The covenant in Lev 26 is not to be broken, but to be remembered by YHWH in the period of the restitution. Kilchör ignores this very important aspect of the covenant theology in Lev 26. Secondly, he focuses on the different expressions of ‫ מקדׁש‬and ‫ מׁשכן‬and the locational differentiation of ‫ בתוך‬and ‫ ﬠל‬between Lev 26 and Ezek 37*. While Lev 26:11 locates the ‫ מׁשכן‬in ‫ בתוך‬of the Israelites, Ezek 37:26 places ‫ מקדׁש‬in ‫ בתוך‬of the Israelites, and Ezek 37:27 establishes ‫ מׁשכן‬upon (‫ )ﬠל‬the people. According to Kilchör, these different localizations of the temple and dwelling place in Ezek 37* relate to Ezek 43, where presumably the temple building is thought to be the throne and footrest of YHWH, and therefore, the dwelling place of YHWH is above this building. Although he compares the differences of the temple conception between the P passages of Exod 40, Lev 1–9, and Lev 16 with Ezek 37, those passages of the comparison are not from Lev 26 and even not from the Holiness Legislations. The differences of the temple conceptions between Lev 26 and the P passages were already observed by Nihan, “Ezekiel 34–37 and Leviticus 26,” 43 

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literary and theological similarities of Lev 26 and Ezek 37* are very important elements to understand the literary composition of both textual corpora.46 Even though there might be some minor differences between Lev 26 and Ezek 37*, the existence of thematical similarities and theological relationship cannot be overlooked, especially because both these texts share the exclusive concerns and orientations toward the Babylonian Golah.

5.  Leviticus 26 and the Pro-Diaspora Redaction in Ezekiel The other important textual corpus that shares several literary and theological elements with Lev 26 is Ezek 34. The first point of the common motifs can be found in Lev 26:4 and Ezek 34:26–27. There are corresponding motifs of rain in seasonal time, the crops from the earth, and the fruits of the trees. Ezekiel 34 further develops these motifs of Lev 26 by adding the mention of the blessing of YHWH as the cause of this richness in the natural imagery.47 Leviticus 26:4

Ezekiel 34:26–27

And I will give your rains in their season. And the land will give its produce, and the trees of the field will give its fruit.

26 And I will give them and the region around my hill a blessing. And I will let it down the rain in its season. There will be rains of blessing. 27 And the tree of the field will give its fruit, and the earth will give its produce. And they shall be secure on their land. And they will know that I am YHWH, when I break the bars of their yoke, and deliver them from the hand of those who enslaved them.

163. The differences of the temple conceptions between Lev 26 and Ezek 37 must be explicated before concluding that they are different. Also, if the dwelling place (‫ )מׁשכן‬of YHWH is above the temple building (‫ )מקדׁש‬that is in the middle of (‫ )בתוך‬the people, then it is possible to say that the dwelling place of YHWH is in the middle of the people in the geographical perspective because the dwelling place is vertically connected to the temple building in the assumption of the divine presence of YHWH before the people. 46  It is very difficult to assume that the mention of the exile in Lev 26 reflects the Assyrian exile of the Northern kingdom in the 8th century BCE. Contrary to the arguments of Knohl, who dates the composition of Holiness Legislations to the 8th century BCE (Knohl, Sanctuary, 204–212), and Milgrom, who correlates it to the Assyrian exile of the Northern kingdom (Milgrom, Leviticus 17–22, 1363; idem, Leviticus 23–27, 2363–2365), this close literary connection to Ezekiel points to the fact that the exile mention in Lev 26 is only in reference to the Babylonian exile, not the other exilic events. Julia Rhyder also points to the problem of the preexilic dating of H from her observation on the strong affinities between Lev 26 and prophetic literature (Rhyder, Centralizing, 62–63). 47  See Lyons, From Law, 125; Nihan, “Ezekiel 34–37 and Leviticus 26,” 169–170; Milgrom, “Leviticus 26 and Ezekiel,” 58.



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A similar concept relating to peace on earth appears in Lev 26:6 and Ezek 34:25. Also, the concept that YHWH removes the “evil animal” is shared in both these texts. The description of the people living in the land in a peaceful state is also a common motif. Ezekiel 34:25 relates the motif of peace with that of the covenant. Leviticus 26:6

Ezekiel 34:25

And I will give peace in the land, and you will lie down, and no one will make you afraid. And I will remove evil animals from the land. And no sword will go through your land.

And I will make a covenant of peace with them. And I will remove evil animals from the land. And they will securely dwell in the wilderness and sleep in the forests.

This theological development of Ezek 34 seems highly likely to be motivated by the passage of Ezek 37:26, where the same phrase “the covenant of peace” appears.48 Reflecting on this covenant concept of Ezek 37*, Ezek 34 develops the peace motif of Lev 26. The description of the safe life in the land and the breaking of the yoke by YHWH are the common motifs in both Lev 26 and Ezek 34. Leviticus 26:5, 13

Ezekiel 34:27

5 For you, threshing will overtake the vintage, and the vintage will overtake the sowing. And you will eat your bread to the abundance, and you will live securely in your land. 13 I am YHWH your God who brought you out from the land of Egypt, from being their slaves. And I broke the yoke upon you and made you walk erect.

27 And the trees of the field will give its fruit, and the earth will give its produce. And they shall be secure on their earth. And they will know that I am YHWH, when I break the bars of their yoke, and deliver them from the hand of those who enslaved them.

Ezekiel 34 applies the exodus motif to the future restitution that will be brought by YHWH, although this ideological feature might have already existed implicitly in Lev 26. Ezekiel 34 combines the motifs that existed in separate verses of Lev 26:5, 13 in its own single passage. Here, too, Ezek 34 shows further development of the motifs that appear in Lev 26. Ezekiel 34 is a later text than Lev 26 and reflects the influences from this chapter in the Holiness Legislations. The dependency of Ezek 34* on Lev 26 can be observed, and this result conforms with the observation already made by Christophe Nihan.49 Ezekiel 34* develops several literary motifs, elements, and concepts of Lev 26. At the same time, it is important to mention that Ezek 34* 48  For the dependency of Ezek 34* to Ezek 37, see Nihan, “Ezekiel 34–37 and Leviticus 26,” 171–175. Contrary to Klein, Schriftauslegung, 175–179. 49  Nihan focused on the problem of the dependency between Ezek 34:25–30 and Lev 26. See Nihan, “Ezekiel 34–37 and Leviticus 26,” 165–171.

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holds a pro-diaspora ideology and theology, and this point can be observed especially in vv. 11–16.50

6. Conclusion 6.1 Leviticus 26 in Relation to the Covenant Theologies of Dtr, P, and the Prophetic Literature The passages that I  discussed above relate to the covenant theologies in both of Lev 26* and Ezekiel. The theology of the restitution for both the Babylonian Golah and the diaspora is deeply interconnected with the theme of the covenant of YHWH. The covenant theology of Lev 26 serves an indispensable function for the further development of the diaspora theologies in the Pentateuch and in the prophetic literature. As to the text in the Holiness Legislations, we might expect some relationship to the Priestly covenant theology. There is a similarity, but there is also a significant difference. The concept of the remembrance of the covenant by YHWH might have a Priestly origin, as we can see through the appearance of a similar idea in P texts like Exod 6:5–8 and 2:24–25. However, in Lev 26 there are components of Deuteronomistic covenant theology. In the Priestly covenant passages, we find the phrase “I will be your God” only. However, in Lev 26 the phrase “You shall be my people” appears, which is connected to the concept of keeping the statues and commandments of YHWH. This is seemingly a Deuteronomistic covenant concept. This Deuteronomistic character of the covenant theology in Lev 26 has already been pointed out by Norbert Lohfink.51 Therefore, in Lev 26 we find the amalgamation of not only Deuteronomistic and prophetic covenant theologies, but also the Priestly covenant theology with some modifications.52 The remembrance of the covenant by YHWH and the repentance of his people is a concept that also appears in the Pentateuchal texts of Deut 4 and 28–30. In Lev 26, the people infringe on the covenant, but YHWH remembers the covenant.53 Therefore, the covenant between the people and YHWH is not broken. The same concept appears in Ezek 16:59–63. It seems that this unique covenant theology of Lev 26 unifies several elements of the covenant theologies 50  For more details on the “pro-diaspora redactions” in the books of Ezekiel and Jeremiah, see, e. g., Pohlmann, Hesekiel: Kapitel 1–19, 27–28, 31–32; Nihan, “Ezechiel,” 423–424; Schmid, Literaturgeschichte, 216–221; idem, “Ezechielbuch,” 365–368; idem, “Jeremiabuch,” 356. 51  Lohfink, “Abänderung der Theologie.” 52 Leviticus 26 can be understood as an attempt to mediate the Abraham covenant of Gen 17 and the Sinai covenant. See Nihan, From Priestly Torah, 542. 53  For the implication of the act of the “remembrance,” see Hieke, “Covenant,” 81–83.

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from P, Dtr, possibly the law codes in the Pentateuch,54 and also some texts in the book of Ezekiel. This reception of the prophetic tradition on the covenant theology in Lev 26 is another important feature of H in the Pentateuch. Leviticus 26 has a prominent impact from the prophetic passages of the book of Ezekiel that focuses on the Babylonian Golah at the phase of the development of its own ideological concept. 6.2  Further Development of Repentance Theology in the Diaspora Theologies of the Pentateuch Similar theological arguments to Lev 26 can be observed in Deut 4 and 28–30. However, with another emphasis on the identificatory character of the communities, namely, the main passages of Deut 4* and 28–30* on the whole seem to have explicit pro-diaspora perspectives, rather than exclusively limiting themselves only to the Babylonian Golah. Within Deut 4* and 28–30*, the orientation toward the widespread diaspora holds the central place of the discussion on restitution. In those pro-diaspora passages in the Pentateuch, we find the theology of repentance, which is common to Lev 26. Thus, from the observations above we can see that Lev 26 paved the way for further developments of the diaspora theologies in the literary corpora of the prophetic literature, especially the book of Ezekiel, and the Pentateuch.

Bibliography Bührer, W., “Ezechiel und die Priesterschrift,” in: Das Buch Ezechiel: Komposition, Redaktion und Rezeption (ed. J. C. Gertz/C. Körting/M. Witte; BZAW 516; Berlin, 2020), 175–206. Cholewiński, A., Heiligkeitsgesetz und Deuteronomium: Eine vergleichende Studie (AnBib 66; Rome, 1976). Grünwaldt, K., Das Heiligkeitsgesetz Leviticus 17–26: Ursprünge Gestalt, Tradition und Theologie (BZAW 271; Berlin/New York, 1999). Hieke, T., Levitikus 16–27 (HThKAT; Freiburg, 2014). –, “The Covenant in Leviticus 26: A Concept of Admonition and Redemption,” in: Covenant in the Persian Period: From Genesis to Chronicles (ed. R. J.  Bautch/G. N.  Knoppers; Winona Lake, 2015), 75–89. Hurvitz, A., A Linguistic Study of the Relationship between the Priestly Source and the Book of Ezekiel: A New Approach to an Old Problem (CahRB 20; Paris, 1982). Kilchör, B., “Überlegungen zum Verhältnis zwischen Levitikus 26 und Ezechiel und die tempeltheologische Relevanz der Abhängigkeitsrichtung,” ZABR 24 (2018): 295–306. 54 

For example, the terminology of the “eternal covenant” appears in Lev 24:8.

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Kilian, R., Literarkritische und Formgeschichtliche Untersuchung des Heiligkeitsgesetzes (BBB 19; Bonn, 1963). Klein, A., Schriftauslegung im Ezechielbuch: Redaktionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu Ez 34–39 (BZAW 391; Berlin, 2008). Knohl, I., The Sanctuary of Silence: The Priestly Torah and the Holiness School (Minneapolis, 1995). Koch, C., Gottes himmlische Wohnstatt: Transformationen im Verhältnis von Gott und Himmel in tempeltheologischen Entwürfen des Alten Testaments in der Exilszeit (FAT 119; Tübingen, 2018). –, “Vorstellungen von Gottes Wohnort im Ezechielbuch,” in: Das Buch Ezechiel: Komposition, Redaktion und Rezeption (ed. J. C. Gertz/C. Körting/M. Witte; BZAW 516; Berlin, 2020), 207–232. Levitt Kohn, R., A New Heart and a New Soul: Ezekiel, the Exile and the Torah (JSOTSup 358; Sheffield, 2002). Lohfink, N., “Die Abänderung der Theologie des Priesterlichen Geschichtswerks im Segen des Heiligkeitsgesetzes. Zu Lev 26,9.11–13,” in: Wort und Geschichte: Festschrift für Karl Elliger zum 70. Geburtstag (ed. H. Gese/H. P. Rüger; AOAT 18; NeukirchenVluyn, 1973), 129–136. Lyons, M. A., From Law to Prophecy: Ezekiel’s Use of the Holiness Code (LHBOTS 507; New York, 2009). Maskow, L., Tora in der Chronik: Studien zur Rezeption des Pentateuchs in den Chronikbüchern (FRLANT 274; Göttingen, 2019). Milgrom, J., “Leviticus 26 and Ezekiel,” in: The Quest for Context and Meaning: Studies in Biblical Intertextuality in Honor of James A. Sanders (ed. C. A. Evans/S. Talmon; BibInt 28; Leiden, 1997), 57–62. –, Leviticus 17–22 (AB 3A; New York, 2000). –, Leviticus 23–27 (AB 3B; New York, 2001). Müller, R., “A Prophetic View of the Exile in the Holiness Code: Literary Growth and Tradition History in Leviticus 26,” in: The Concept of Exile in Ancient Israel and its Historical Contexts (ed. E. Ben Zvi/C. Levin; BZAW 404; Berlin, 2010), 207–228. Nihan, C., From Priestly Torah to Pentateuch: A Study in the Composition of the Book of Leviticus (FAT II/25; Tübingen, 2007). –, “The Priestly Covenant, Its Reinterpretations, and the Composition of ‘P’,” in: The Strata of the Priestly Writings: Contemporary Debate and Future Directions (ed. S. Schectman/J. S. Baden; ATANT 95; Zürich, 2009), 87–134. –, “Ezechiel,” in: Einleitung in das Alten Testament: Die Bücher der Hebräischen Bibel und die alttestamentlichen Schriften der katholischen, protestantischen und orthodoxen Kirchen (ed. T. Römer/J.‑D. Macchi/C. Nihan; Zürich, 2013), 412–430. –, “Leviticus 26:39–46 and the Post-Priestly Composition of the Leviticus: Some Remarks in Light of the Recent Discussion,” in: The Post-Priestly Pentateuch: New Perspectives on its Redactional Development and Theological Profiles (ed. F. Giuntoli/K. Schmid; FAT 101; Tübingen, 2015), 305–329. –, “Ezekiel and the Holiness Legislation: A  Plea for Nonlinear Models,” in: The Formation of the Pentateuch: Bridging the Academic Cultures of Europe, Israel, and North America (ed. J. C. Gertz et al.; FAT 111; Tübingen, 2016), 1015–1039. –, “Ezekiel 34–37 and Leviticus 26: A  Reevaluation,” in: Ezekiel: Current Debates and Future Directions (ed. W. A. Tooman/P. Barter; FAT 112; Tübingen, 2017), 153–178.



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Otto, E., “Innerbiblische Exegese im Heiligkeitsgesetz Leviticus 17–26,” in: Leviticus als Buch (ed. H. J. Fabry/H. W. Jüngling; BBB 119; Berlin, 1999), 125–196; repr. in E. Otto, Die Tora: Studien zum Pentatuech: Gesammelte Aufsätze (BZABR 9; Wiesbaden, 2009), 46–106. –, Deuteronomium 23,16–34,12, Vol. 2 of Deuteronomium 12–34 (HThKAT; Freiburg i. Br., 2017). Pohlmann, K.‑F., Studien zum Jeremiabuch: Ein Beitrag zur Frage nach der Entstehung des Jeremiabuches (FRLANT 118; Göttingen, 1978). –, Ezechielstudien: Zur Redaktionsgeschichte des Buches und zur Frage nach den ältesten Texten (BZAW 202; Berlin, 1992). –, Das Buch des Propheten Hesekiel (Ezechiel): Kapitel 1–19 (ATD 22/1; Göttingen, 1996). –, Das Buch des Propheten Hesekiel (Ezechiel): Kapitel 20–48 (ATD 22/2; Göttingen, 2001). Rhyder, J., Centralizing the Cult: The Holiness Legislation in Leviticus 17–26 (FAT 134; Tübingen, 2019). Rom-Shiloni, D., Exclusive Inclusivity: Identity Conflicts Between the Exiles and the People who Remained (6th–5th Centuries BCE) (LHBOTS 543; New York, 2013). Rudnig, T. A., Heilig und Profan: Redaktionskritische Studien zu Ez 40–48 (BZAW 287; Berlin, 2000). Schmid, K., “Das Jeremiabuch,” in: Grundinformation Altes Testaments: Eine Einführung in Literatur, Religion und Geschichte des Alten Testaments, 6th ed. (ed. J. C. Gertz; UTB 2745; Göttingen, 2019), 346–361. –, “Das Ezechielbuch,” in: Grundinformation Altes Testaments: Eine Einführung in Literatur, Religion und Geschichte des Alten Testaments, 6th ed. (ed. J. C. Gertz; UTB 2745; Göttingen, 2019), 361–372. –, Literaturgeschichte des Alten Testaments: Eine Einführung, 3rd ed. (Darmstadt, 2021). Schwartz, B. J., “Introduction: The Strata of the Priestly Writings and the Revised Relative Dating of P and H,” in: The Strata of the Priestly Writings: Contemporary Debate and Future Directions (ed. S. Schectman/J. S. Baden; ATANT 95; Zürich, 2009), 1–12. Steck, O. H., Israel und das Gewaltsame Geschick der Propheten: Untersuchungen zur Überlieferung des deuteronomistischen Geschichtsbildes im Alten Testament, Spätjudentum und Urchristentum (WMANT 23; Neukirchen-Vluyn, 1967).

The Theological Profile of the Masoretic Book of Esther in the Context of Diverse Yhwh Communities1 Vjatscheslav Dreier

1. Introduction This essay inquiries into the historical context of the composition of the book of Esther (Esth), situating its distinctive theological profile within the context of various other Diaspora Yhwh communities in existence at the time. To this end, I will (1.) first reconstruct the context of the author. I will then (2.) describe the diversity of those Yhwh communities of the late Persian−early Hellenistic periods that are historically attested. This is followed (3.) by an overview of the various ways in which the OT itself conceptualizes various Diaspora groups. Finally (4.), I  will draw upon these observations to determine the distinctive theological profile of the narrative in Esth, first by taking the historical context into account (4.1) and then by relating Esth to the various other Yhwh communities of the period (4.2). The picture that will emerge is that of a community of the eastern Diaspora during the early Hellenistic period that is self-reliant and independent of Jerusalem.

1  The research on the book of Esther on which this essay is based was kindly supported by a doctoral fellowship from the Ernst Ludwig Ehrlich Studienwerk (ELES). Parts of this essay are based on my dissertation “Identität und Bedeutung der Gruppen im masoretischen Estherbuch. Einführung in eine gruppenorientierte Hermeneutik,” which was submitted to the Faculty of Theology in Heidelberg (Germany) in April of 2022. These sections will be indicated in the individual sub-sections of this article. The purpose of my dissertation is to introduce grouporiented hermeneutics. To this end, it provides an analysis of literary groups in Esth, examining them for their significance for the exegesis and theology of the narrative. The insights gained from this analysis are also drawn upon to help reconstruct the historical location of Esth. I would like to thank Helge Bezold and Tobias Maurer for their critical and constructive review of the essay. I am also grateful to Dr. Philip Sumpter for his translation of the German original.

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2.  The Historical Context of MT Esther2 2.1  Time of Composition 2.1.1  History of Research Three historical periods come into consideration for the date of the composition of Esth:3 1. Persian period:4 The primary argument for a date between 400–3315 BCE is linguistic in nature (Persian loan words; knowledge of Persian customs, Susa, and court protocol; lack of Greek linguistic influences), though scholars who advocate this dating also refer to the proximity of Esth to Greek descriptions of Persia from the time before Alexander the Great.6 Another argument is the book’s benevolent attitude toward the current reigning power and the gentiles in general (with the exception of the enemies of the Jews). 2. Early Hellenistic period (pre-Maccabean):7 Many scholars date Esth to the period between 331–168 BCE, pointing to the late nature of the Hebrew language, parallels to the Hellenistic “novel,” and the motif of proskynesis that appears in chapter 3 and that is historically related to the worship of Hellenistic rulers. Some resolutely reject the idea that Esth was written after the Maccabean revolt (167 BCE), since the relatively positive portrayal of the foreign power in Esth does not fit with this period.8 3. Late Hellenistic period (Hasmonean):9 Some researchers see echoes of the conflicts of the Maccabean period in the fighting in chapter 9 and so date it accordingly to the period after 167 BCE.

2 

This section is based on section 1.6.5 of my dissertation (see note 1). An extensive discussion of the issue of dating can be found in Ego, Ester, 55–69; Middlemas, “Esther,” 149–168. In addition, for older research, reference should be made to Berg, Book, 169–173; Bardtke, Esther, 252–255; Paton, Esther, 60–63. 4  Representatives of this position are Gunkel, Esther, 87; Loader, “Buch Ester,” 214; Berlin, Esther, xlii; Gerleman, Esther, 39; Meinhold, Esther, 20; Johnson, “Elements,” 583–585; Talmon, “Wisdom,” 422. 5  The battle of Gaugamela on the 1st of October 331 BC is considered to be Alexander’s decisive victory over the Persian empire of Darius III, which brought an end to the Persian period (see Badian, “Gaugamela;” Gehrke, Geschichte, 19–20). 6  See Ego, Ester, 57. 7  This dating is advocated by the following scholars: Ego, Ester, 68–69; Fox, Character, 140; Zenger, “Ester,” 384; Macchi, Esther, 46 (in reference to proto-Esther; in this he is followed by Mathys, “Hof,” 243–246); Bardtke, Esther, 254; Berg, Book, 173; Haag, Zeitalter, 130; Striedl, “Untersuchung,” 81. 8  See Ego, Ester, 59; Levenson, Esther, 26; Bush, Esther, 296; Clines, Esther, 272; Meinhold, “Esther,” 20; Moore, Esther, LIX–LX. 9  This position is held by Achenbach, “Genocide,” 97; Bezold, “Violence,” 47; Wills, Jew, 99–100; Stiehl, “Esther,” 21; Torrey, “Esther,” 40; Paton, Esther, 60–63. 3 



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There are also scholars who assign the book to more than one era. Two positions of this kind need to be mentioned: 4. Redaction-critical theories: Several scholars argue on redaction-critical grounds that Esth should be assigned to two or three of the above-mentioned periods. Some date the core of the narrative (mostly chapters 1–8) to the Persian period and the later redactions (chapters 9–10) to the Hellenistic (partly Hasmonean) period.10 Others see precursors of Esth in the Hellenistic – Pre-Maccabean period, while the Masoretic version of Esth dates from the Hasmonean period.11 5. Persian or Hellenistic period: Quite a few researchers leave the question of dating open and refer instead to the Persian–Hellenistic periods in general, by which a late Persian – early Hellenistic dating is usually meant.12 Middlemas discusses the historical, linguistic, intertextual, and theological arguments for either a Persian or Hellenistic dating and determines that none of them are conclusive. She concludes that the decision is subject to the interpretation of each scholar.13 It is possible, however, to identify a general trend on the part of many scholars towards an (early) Hellenistic date. 2.1.2  Justification of the Position Advocated Here (Origin at the Time of Alexander) In what follows, I will justify the position I have come to adopt, which is that Esth was written during the lifetime of Alexander the Great, between 331 BCE (when Alexander became the pharaoh of Egypt and thus the son of the god Amun-Re) and 323 BCE (Alexander’s death). The methodological assumption here is that the fictional narrative of Esth allows us to draw conclusions about the historical reality experienced by its author.14

a)  Arguments against a Persian Dating In addition to the arguments against a Persian dating listed in 2.1.1 above, the following argument in favour of a Hellenistic dating is primarily based on Mor10  See Middlemas, “Esther,” 168; Wahl, Esther, 47,180–181; 204–205; Grasham, “Theology,” 104. 11  See Macchi, Esther, 44–49; Bickerman, Books, 205–207. 12  See Bush, Esther, 297; Levenson, Esther, 26; Moore, Esther, LIX; Clines, Esther, 272; Witte, “Estherbuch,” 485; Gruen, Diaspora, 138. 13  See Middlemas, “Esther,” 158. In this context, reference should be made to those scholars who have attempted to relate Esth to concrete historical events (see Ego, Ester, 58). Such attempts, however, remain speculative. 14  See Grabbe, Priests, 8–9,19. Reference should also be made to Lau, Identity, 145–190, who examines the ethics of the main characters in Ruth (pp. 55–144) and then uses this information to posit the historical context in which Ruth can plausibly be located.

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decai’s refusal to render proskynesis to the Agagite vizier Haman (Esth 3:2–4). Such an action makes no sense in the Persian period, since Persian kings were not worshipped as gods, and Jews were allowed to honour people of higher rank, including kings of foreign kingdoms, by genuflection, proskynesis, etc. Proskynesis was performed both in Greece and Persia, but with a striking difference: “The proskynesis was the traditional ritual of obeisance with respect to the Persian kings. But  – in contrast to the Diadochs after Alexander  – the Persian kings never claimed a divine status.”15 Evidence that it was customary for Persians to honour their king by proskynesis is found in Herodotus (Hist. 1.119; 3.86; 8.118) and Xenophon (Cyr. 8.3.14).16 However, prostration as a gesture of honour was not only common towards the king, but it was also performed by Persians of low status towards those of high status (Herodotus, Hist. 1.134). Several conflicts between Greeks and Persians have survived in which Greek men were expected or required to prostrate themselves before the Persian king.17 The reason for the Greek refusal is that to “the Greeks, prostration before another was incompatible with the ideal of human freedom.”18 Furthermore, according to Greek understanding (before Alexander the Great), such an honour is only due to the gods.19 In light of what can be reconstructed from Persian sources, we know that although the king was accorded a distinctly high reverence, he was never worshipped as a divine being, as is claimed by some Greek sources.20 As such, it is possible to speak of an “intercultural misunderstanding”21 between Greeks and Persians, a misunderstanding based on fundamental differences in their understanding of anthropology and theology. Even if there had been economic and cultural contacts between Jews and Greeks as early as the Persian period,22 it seems unlikely that Greek influence went so far as to cause Jews to adopt the Greek critique of proskynesis. The problem “only acquired a whole new explosiveness under Alexander the Great.”23

15  Achenbach,

“Genocide,” 98 (emphasis original). See also Macchi, Esther, 151; Staubli, “Proskynese,” section 3.4. 16  These and other verses are quoted and explained in Ego, Ester, 196–198. Briant, Histoire, 235 points out that Persian monuments do not portray acts of homage to the king as involving the bowing of the knee but rather as a slight bow and a kiss of the hand (see, e. g., the image on p. 230). 17  See Herodotus, Hist. 7.136. Further evidence is provided in Ego, Ester, 196–198. It is striking that the Persian king tolerates this behaviour without punishing the Greeks. 18 Ego, Ester, 196. 19  See Achenbach, “Vertilgen,” 295; Ego, Ester, 197; Macchi, Esther, 144; Berlin, Esther, 35. 20 See Ahn, Herrscherlegitimation, 180–227 (taken from Ego, Ester, 197–198); Kuhrt, Empire, 475; Achenbach, “Vertilgen,” 293. 21 Ego, Ester, 198. 22  See Colledge, “Interaction,” 134–138. 23 Ego, Ester, 53. This aspect was already mentioned by Berg, Book, 171–172.

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b)  Arguments for Dating Esth to the Time of Alexander the Great The worship of Alexander as a god and his pretensions to such worship increased over the course of the expansion of his empire. The first evidence of such a cult of the ruler is found in various Greek cities in Asia Minor. It emerged as early as the Asia Minor campaign (334/333 BCE) as a response to the liberation of these cities, e. g., in Ephesus in 334 BCE.24 With the conquest of Egypt (332/331 BCE), Alexander became pharaoh and was thus considered the son of the god Amun-Re (Greek interpretation: Zeus-Ammon).25 Alexander’s conquest of the Persian heartland (331–327 BCE) testified to his steadily growing political power. The Macedonian’s conception of himself eventually found expression in the Alexander-Porus coin type, of which at least ten specimens are extant.26 On the obverse, Alexander is depicted as holding the thunderbolt of Zeus in his right hand and with Nike, flying. The reverse depicts Alexander’s victory over the Indian king Porus. These coins are considered authentic and were probably minted immediately after the victory they depict (326 BCE).27 They illustrate Alexander’s claim to be the son of Zeus.28 Note should also be taken of coins depicting Alexander with the ram’s horns of Zeus.29 In the winter of 324/323 BCE, Athens, Sparta and presumably other Greek cities discussed whether Alexander should be granted divine worship. In Athens, a cult of Alexander can be assumed from 323 BCE, but not all cities in the motherland introduced such a cult.30 Alexander the Great’s demand to be worshipped through proskynesis occasionally met with clear opposition. Callisthenes, for example, voiced criticism in Bactra in 327 BCE (Plutarch, Alexander 54–55).31 The Ptolemies, however, were able to enforce this idea.32 The fact that the cult of Alexander was only regional 24 

See Habicht, Gottmenschentum, 17–36. See Gehrke, Geschichte, 152–153. As an ancient historian, he refers to recent research and concludes that Alexander’s motivation for reaching the oasis of Siwa was not to clarify his status as the “son of god,” since as Pharaoh he already was this qua his office. His motive was rather to seek out the oracle in Siwa, which was also known in Greece – not only for political but also for religious reasons. Ego, Ester, 200 consequently gives too much weight to Alexander’s visit to the Siwa oasis when she evaluates it as an important aspect in the development of the “deification” of the Greek ruler. 26  See Habicht et al., “Porus Medallions,” 28–30 (an image can be found on p. 47). 27  See Habicht et al., “Porus Medallions,” 33–34; Gehrke, Geschichte, 24–25. 28  See Habicht et al., “Porus Medallions,” 33; Oeming, “Historicity,” 368. 29  See Ego, Ester, 53 and the evidence cited there. 30  See Habicht, Gottmenschentum, 28–36. 31 See Ego, Ester, 198–199. Pfeiffer, Herrscher- und Dynastiekulte, 39–40 also refers to Timaeus (handed down by Polybios). Ego mentions a discussion in Arrian in which Greeks debate whether Alexander the Great may be worshipped as a god through proskynesis. It is again Callisthenes who resolutely rejects this, arguing that such homage should only be paid to the gods. 32  See Ego, Ester, 199–200; Achenbach, “Vertilgen,” 295. For a detailed description of the ruler cult in Ptolemaic times, see Pfeiffer, Herrscher- und Dynastiekulte, 31–76. 25 

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and, moreover, controversial, fits into the picture of the Esther narrative, for there is no direct mention of a ruler cult (contrast this with the explicit call to worship the king’s statue in Dan 3:1–7, which indicates a date after Alexander). However, Esth 3:2 indicates that some cities did pay divine honours to Alexander and that this issue was debated in Jewish circles. The combined use of the verbs ‫ כרﬠ‬and ‫ חוה‬suggests that a religious aspect is present in Esth 3, since the combination of both these terms is found in four places in the OT, all in conjunction with the worship of God (Ps 22:30; 95:6; 2 Chr 7:3; 29:29). It can therefore be argued that the proskynesis demanded by Haman implies an historical context in which the demand to worship Alexander was widespread but not universal.33 This would also explain why Mordecai invokes his Jewish identity (sole worship of God) when explaining his refusal. Accordingly, Esth can be interpreted as a “response to the ancient discourse concerning proskynesis.”34 The fact that the demand for proskynesis emanates from the king but applies to his vizier shows that the author did not seek a direct confrontation with foreign rule.35 This fits well with the time of Alexander, when he was worshiped in some cities in Greece and Asia Minor but when this worship was not yet made generally obligatory. As such, the narrator here is making cautious reference to the cultic aspect of proskynesis while clearly positioning himself against it, a position that would be evident to any educated Jewish reader. Josephus shows that during the time of Alexander, Jewish Torah obedience could lead to conflict between Jews and their rulers. He reports (C. Ap. 1.190– 193)36 that the Jews were known to Hecataios of Abdera, a contemporary of Alexander, for their loyalty to their religious laws (Torah), to the extent that they would endure torture to keep them. He gives the following example: When the sanctuary of the god Bel in Babylon collapsed, Alexander ordered his army to 33  See Ego, Ester, 53–54, 64–65, 199–200; Achenbach, “Vertilgen,” 293–295; Wahl, Esther, 90. This interpretation can turn to Jewish reception history for support. In the Greek versions (C5–7), Mordecai confesses in his prayer that he will bow to no man but only to God (see Fox, Character, 43–44, who also refers to the second Esth-Targum and Rashi). Kottsieper, “Zusätze,” 163–164, in his commentary on Esth-LXX, assumes the religious motif also in the MT. Furthermore, mentioned should also be made of Josephus (Ant. 11.209–210, 230; see Wahl, Esther, 92). Paton, Esther, 196 lists many other older representatives of this position. Ego, “Mordechai’s Refusal,” 506–522 offers a comprehensive interpretation of Mordechai’s refusal of proskynesis in the Greek. 34 Ego, Ester, 196. Berlin’s remarks in Esther, 35 concerning the Greek background of the refusal of proskynesis are instructive, but it is questionable whether the author of Esth was concerned with the creatively adopting a Greek ethical value in the late Persian period (Berlin’s dating of Esth). Macchi, Esther, 150–151 also paints a picture of a “Grecized” Mordecai, but he assumes a dating in the Maccabean-Hasmonean period (49). It seems more plausible, however, from a literary and historical perspective, to view the conflict over proskynesis that is so central to Esth as a reaction to an early Hellenistic problem that confronted the Diaspora communities. 35  See Achenbach, “Vertilgen,” 295. 36  For the Greek original and the English translation see Stern, Authors, 35–44. The German text is reproduced in, e. g., Ego, Ester, 205 (translation by Folker Siegert).

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carry away the rubble. His Jewish soldiers, however, refused and were therefore punished with beatings. Another argument relates to the motif of the fear of annihilation. Esth appears to be the first of several narratives expressing this motif in the early Hellenistic period – see Exod 1; Ps 2; 46; 57; 59; 109; Dan 3; Tobit. All of these texts can be dated to the early Hellenistic period (331–200 BCE) (reference may also be made to Jdt; 1–4 Macc from the Hasmonean period).37 Historical and archaeological sources, however, do not suggest any major pogroms or supra-regional persecution of Jews.38 Instead, these texts indicate that the upheavals during the transition from the Persian to the Hellenistic periods and the six Syrian wars that took place during this era were the cause of a major identity crisis among Jewish groups. This threat came to a climax with the spread of the Hellenistic practice of ruler-worship, a practice that was initially local and then later supra-regional. The result was that Jews began to develop a subjective sense of the threat of all-encompassing annihilation.39 According to the current state of historical research, it was not until the Maccabean uprising that a major military conflict occurred (168–164 BCE).40

c)  Arguments against a Date after Alexander’s Death Section 1.1.1 above has already provided us with a number of arguments against a Hasmonean date. Here the focus is on those arguments that speak against a date after the death of Alexander the Great. First of all, it must be stated that the beginning of the Seleucid ruler cult – especially in the eastern empire – is difficult to grasp archaeologically, since there are too few sources.41 One could thus advocate for a date for Esth sometime in the 3rd century (especially starting from chapter 3; cf., on the other hand, the clear call to prostrate oneself before a statue in Dan 3). However, there are three arguments against this view: 1. Immediately after Alexander’s death (323 BCE), political disputes and military conflicts broke out between the Diadochi, which only came to an end after four wars in 281 BCE.42 These politically and militarily turbulent times also affected Susa and the province of Susiana. With the redistribution of the dominions in Triparadeisos (321 BCE), Antipater received the province of Susiana, but soon handed it over to Antigenes (leader of the Argyraspids 37 

See Oeming, “Historicity,” 358–362. See Oeming, “Historicity,” 362–366. 39  See Oeming, “Historicity,” 368–370. 40  Oeming, “Historicity,” 370 rightly points out that the aim of the aforementioned narratives is to comfort the recipients and to strengthen them in their faith that God will direct history for their ultimate good. This observation also applies to Esth. 41  See Wagner, Herrscherrepräsentation, 173–174. 42  See Frevel, Geschichte, 329–330. 38 

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[Silver Shields]). Then Antigonus conquered Susa (315 BCE). Four years later (311 BCE), the ascendant Seleucus I Nicator took Susa.43 In Esth there is no indication of this politically turbulent situation. Instead, it depicts a stable Persian government. 2. Susa remained an important city under Seleucus I,44 but the capital of the eastern Seleucid Empire became Seleucia on the Tigris, although the exact time of its foundation is uncertain.45 Among the eastern satrapies, Babylon was the most important for Seleucus I,46 so Susa was demoted from a Persian residential city to a Seleucid regional capital. Such a low status for Susa does not accord with the picture painted in Esth. 3. The later one dates Esth in the Hellenistic period, the more one would have to reckon with Hellenistic influences on language, culture, etc. In Esth, however, there are no Greek terms (in contrast to Dan), although it is possible to identify a great openness to foreign power.47 Furthermore, the narrative concludes with the prospect of a consolidated Persian government, especially through Mordecai and Esther (Esth 10).

d) Conclusion These observations concerning historical context make it clear that in some situations, Torah-observant Jews could come into conflict with incipient Hellenistic rule when they felt that their faith was at stake.48 There is also evidence of the cultic veneration of Alexander and that this veneration occasionally met with criticism. If we now combine the elements of what we have learned so far – conflict between Torah-observant Jews and their powerful Macedonian overlord; worship of Alexander in parts of Greece, Asia Minor and Egypt; coins depicting him with the thunderbolt of Zeus after the Indian campaign – we are able to reconstruct a scenario in which the Jewish minority felt that their existence was fundamentally threatened. If Alexander were to demand his cultic worship by all subjects (as Haman does in 3:2) and if Jews were to refuse to do so because of their faith, this could lead to an empire-wide annihilation of all Jews. In response to these existential uncertainties, the author of Esth chose Haman, a suddenly 43  On the history of Susa during this time, see Martinez-Sève, “Susa,” paragraph “Susa at the time of the diadochs.” 44  See Martinez-Sève, “Susa,” paragraph “Susa at the time of the diadochs.” 45  See Gehrke, Geschichte, 162. 46  See Wagner, Herrscherrepräsentation, 149. 47  See Johnson, “Elements,” 582–583. The classical philologist Johnson, who wrote a PhD on 3 Macc, argues as follows: Dan 1–6 is critical of Hellenistic culture but contains Greek loan words. Esther shows itself open to strong integration with the gentile environment but does not use Greek loan words. For Johnson, “Elements,” 583, this is an important argument for a dating to the late Persian period, but she cannot exclude a dating to the time of Alexander the Great (582–583). 48  See Ego, Ester, 65.



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promoted vizier, to be the object of proskynesis, giving him the epithet “Agagite” (= Amalekite) in order to associate him with a tradition of anti-Jewish hostility, an association that Jews knowledgeable of Scripture would have been able to pick up.49 The author indicates that the issue at stake is religious-political in nature rather than merely a matter of appropriate custom by combining two specific verbs (‫ ;חוה ;כרﬠ‬3:2). This threatening scenario confronted Diaspora Jews with many questions concerning their identity: How should they relate to a foreign ruler who demands something from them that is against the Torah? How do they deal with an existential threat when they have no state, no king, and no military? What makes Jews Jewish if they want to continue living in the Diaspora?50 In short, the basic form of the question is this: How far does Jewish loyalty to the king extend when it comes into conflict with loyalty to God’s commandments? 2.2  Place of Origin Scholars usually take the eastern (Persian) Diaspora (in or around Susa) to be the place where Esth was written, though they also admit that this is only an assumption that cannot be easily substantiated.51 Macchi also considers Esth to be a Diaspora work, but takes Egypt to be the place of composition.52 Other scholars only speak in general terms of the Diaspora as the context of composition, without giving more concrete details.53 Lebram argues that it originated in Palestine.54 The most significant arguments in favour of the eastern Diaspora as the location for the composition of Esth are as follows:55 1. Esther is almost entirely set in Susa, with detailed information concerning local conditions. 2. The salvation of the Jewish people is determined in Susa, with the Jews in Yehud, Egypt, etc. either not being mentioned at all or only being implied by the fact that all Jews are affected by the edicts. 49  According to the vast majority of scholars, the designation of Haman as an Agagite refers to the Amalekite tradition in the Old Testament, since the name can only refer to the Amalekite king Agag (1 Sam). This invokes the tradition of enmity between Amalek and Israel (see Ego, Ester, 168; Fox, Character, 29; Berlin, Esther, 25; Grossman, Esther, 72 and others). 50  See Fox, Character, 147–148; Day, Esther, 13. 51 See Paton, Esther, 63–64; Gunkel, Esther, 59; Gerleman, Esther, 37; Loader, “Buch Esther,” 214; Bush, Esther, 295; Levenson, Esther, 26; Fox, Character, 233; Zenger, “Esther,” 384; Wahl, Esther, 46; Koller, Esther, 37; Ego, Esther, 205; Middlemas, “Esther,” 160, 167–168; Witte, “Estherbuch,” 486. 52  See Macchi, Esther, 46 (followed by Mathys, “Hof,” 245). 53  See Berlin, Esther, xxx, xlii; Day, Esther, 16; Greenstein, “Reading,” 234. 54  See Lebram, “Esther,” 393, and Bezold, “Violence,” 60–62. His position is thoroughly substantiated in his soon to be published dissertation. 55  See the authors mentioned in note 51.

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3. Esther establishes that Purim is celebrated in Susa on the 15th of Adar and outside Susa on the 14th of Adar. The perspective of the narrator – who does not have to have the same location as the author of Esth – is related to Susa, especially in 9:17–19. 4. Esther contains many parallels to the Daniel narratives (Dan 1–6), which according to some researchers were written in the eastern Diaspora in the Persian period.56 This could indicate that Esth shares a similar context of origin, particularly since Dan is the result of a long process of development. However, studies that could answer the question of a possible literary dependence have yet to be conducted. In light of these four arguments, a location in the eastern Diaspora (in Susa or its environs) will be assumed in what follows.

3.  The Diversity of Historically Attestable Yhwh Communities 3.1 Introduction In order to contextualise the theological profile of Esth historically, the next step is to provide an overview of the various Yhwh communities of the Persian and Hellenistic periods (up until the death of Alexander in 323 BCE), insofar as they can be plausibly reconstructed. This overview will include both those groups that are identified within the OT as well as those that can be proven archaeologically outside it. Since the aim is to present an overview of the diversity of these groups, it will not be necessary to describe each individual group in detail. This information can be found in the secondary literature referenced in the footnotes. The general scholarly consensus is that post-exilic faith in Yhwh is characterised by plurality.57 As Albertz puts it: “The liveliness of the theological discourse of the post-exilic period in particular is witnessed by the multiplicity of ‘theological currents.’”58 Talmon describes the post-exilic period in terms of “multicentrism, heterogeneity and socio-religious diversity.”59 On the one hand, the conditions for the development of such independent centres were created by the 56  See Kratz, Translatio imperii, 146–147; Newsom, Daniel, 9; Bauer, Daniel, 35–36; Albani, Daniel, 52–53; Santoso, Apocalyptic, 134. 57  See Hensel, “Diversity,” 1–44, as well as Frevel, Geschichte, 329–330; Kessler, “Images,” 349–351; Granerød, Dimensions, 324–340; Kratz, Israel, 186–282; Albertz, Exilszeit, 74; Schipper, Geschichte, 71–93; Knoppers, “Moab,” 191; Gerstenberger, Israel, 113–115; Middlemas, “Diaspora Jews,” 50–51; Berquist, Judaism, 222–223. That the Jewish Diaspora is not a monolithic block is already evident in the three different Esth versions (MT, LXX, A-text; See Day, Faces, 235–236). Barclay, Jews, impressively shows the plurality of the different Jewish currents for the Mediterranean region in Hellenistic times. 58 Albertz, History of Religion, 462 (translation Sumpter). See Granerød, Dimensions, 325. 59  Talmon, “Sectarianism,” 254.

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Assyrian and Babylonian deportations of Jews to locations far away from Jerusalem. We must, however, also envisage many Jews voluntarily emigrating from their historical homeland in order, for example, to be conscripted as soldiers for foreign powers or to engage in trade. War and natural disasters will have also played a role.60 With the dissolution of territorial unity, the Jewish people lost their regulating authorities, and the result is that geographically and theologically distinct Yhwh communities developed throughout the Persian empire.61 3.2  The Individual Groups The following Jewish groups can be reconstructed for the Persian and early Hellenistic periods (with the Babylonian period also being cited in some cases):

a)  Non-Exiles in Yehud62 This group was spared of the Babylonian exile and is mainly mentioned in EzraNeh. Since Ezra-Neh is dominated by the perspective of the Golah returnees, ֶ ‫ם־ה‬ ָ ‫( ַﬠ‬Ezra 4:1–4; 10:2, 11; further 6:21) or as ‫ַﬠ ֵּמי‬ this group is devalued as ‫ָארץ‬ ‫( ָה ֲא ָרצֹות‬Ezra 3:3; 9:1–2, 11; Neh 10:29) and placed in opposition to the “true Israel.” The identity of this/these group(s) is debated by scholars.63 Albertz estimates the number of inhabitants in Yehud in 580 BCE to be around 40,000 people, which means that about half of the population would have either died or been deported since 600 BCE.64

b)  Exiles in Babylonia (during the Babylonian and Persian Periods)65 A significant part of the population of Judah was taken into Babylonian exile at the beginning of the 6th century BCE, especially to the province of Babylonia. Part of the royal family and presumably also parts of the religious-intellectual elite were taken to the Babylonian court (2 Kgs 24:8–25:21; Dan 1). Other Jews were deported to rural areas, partly to abandoned villages. Albertz estimates there to have been about 20,000 deportees.66 60 

See Kiefer, Exil, 91–92. See Kiefer, Exil, 90–91; Berquist, Judaism, 223, 236; Kessler, “Zechariah,” 119; Gerstenberger, Israel, 115. 62  See Kessler, “Yahwists,” 93. 63  See the relevant literature on Ezra-Neh. On Ezra 4:1–5, see, e. g., Grabbe, Ezra-Nehemiah, 18, who mentions several suggestions. 64  See Albertz, Exilszeit, 79–80. Kiefer, Exil, 84–87 estimates at least 13,350 people in Yehud for the Persian Period I (539–450 BCE), implying an even greater population decline than the one posited by Albertz. 65  For a detailed account of the Babylonian Golah, see Albertz, Exilszeit, 85–97 as well as Kiefer, Exil, 74–83; Frevel, Geschichte, 283–284. 66  See Albertz, Exilszeit, 75–80. Kiefer, Exil, 67–73 estimates about 16,000 deportees under Nebuchadnezzar and cites figures from other researchers. 61 

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The so-called Murashu archive is dated to sometime between 455 and 403

BCE, during the Persian period. It provides insights into the business activities

of an entrepreneurial family of the same name in the Nippur region (Babylonia). About 80 of the approximately 2,200 personal names mentioned are of West Semitic origin. This suggests that the Jews were well-integrated both economically and socially.67 The documents known as the “āl-Yahudu” texts offer material from three rural sites in Mesopotamia in the period from 572–477 BCE (from the Babylonian exile to Xerxes I).68 They, too, testify to the fact that the “exiles were socially, legally and economically well-integrated”69 in Persian times. Although it was possible for Jews to return to Yehud in the Persian period, it can be assumed that the majority in the “Diaspora” regarded it as their home and therefore remained there.70 “The Diaspora became a self-evident and accepted fact of Jewish life in the Persian period.”71

c)  Returnees to Yehud In the OT, Zerubbabel, Ezra, and Nehemiah are mentioned as the leaders of the returnees to Yehud (Ezra-Neh). Nehemiah built the city wall and implemented social reforms, while Ezra introduced worship in the rebuilt Temple (Hag; Zech). The number of returnees was probably between 4,000 (Becking; in the 6th/5th century) and 10,000 people (Albertz; until 520 BCE).72

d) Samaria In Persian-Hellenistic times, the Gerizim community was very important. Around 450 BCE, it built a temple, which was later expanded and was destroyed only at the end of the 2nd century BCE. The Samaritans accepted only the Torah as canonical scripture and related all Zion traditions to Mount Gerizim.73 For the period from the 6th to the 3rd centuries BCE, the community had little con67  See Ede, “Muraschu”; Kiefer, Exil, 76–78; Albertz, Exilszeit, 89; Frevel, Geschichte, 283. Since Esth is set in Susa, it should be pointed out that Stolper, “Murašû,” 69–77 has demonstrated that members of the Murashu family were in Susa in 417 BCE (February/March) (Kuhrt, Empire, 733 follows him). 68  For an overview, see Kratz, Israel, 203–213; Frevel, Geschichte, 283–284. For a monograph, see Pearce/Wunsch, Documents. 69 Frevel, Geschichte, 284 (translation Sumpter). 70  See Kiefer, Exil, 90; Albertz, Exilszeit, 108; Frevel, Geschichte, 304; Schmid, Literaturgeschichte, 140. Josephus (Ant. 11.8) gives as a reason the fact that many Jews did not want to leave their property behind. 71 Kiefer, Exil, 90 (translation Sumpter). 72  See Albertz, Exilszeit, 108; Frevel, Geschichte, 304. 73 See the detailed description in Kratz, Israel, 232–258 and the extensive monograph Hensel, Juda. See also Frevel, Geschichte, 317–323.

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tact with Jerusalem, though contact was made on occasion (primarily between the religious elites).74

e) Egypt Findings on the Nile island of Elephantine provide insights into its small Jewish community with its own temple to Yahu, which existed as early as 525 BCE.75 There is also evidence of correspondence with Jerusalem and Samaria, requesting help to rebuild the temple after its destruction (410 BCE).76 The temple was rebuilt in 402 BCE.77 The community did not practice an exclusive monotheism, nor have any OT writings been discovered.78 We can also assume the presence of other groups in Lower Egypt. Some, for example, are mentioned in Jer 40–44. It is impossible, however, to say much about them.79

f )  Moab, Ammon and Edom Jewish groups emigrated to these neighbouring regions as a result of droughts, economic problems, wars, etc. (Jer 40:11; Isa 16:4), but little can be said about them.80 The reference to the “dispersed of Israel” in the prophets makes perfect sense in the context of the Persian period (see Ezek in particular, e. g., Ezek 5:10; 6:8; 12:15; 20:23; Zech 2:1–4; also Lev 26:33; Ps 44:12; Neh 1:8). This motif also occurs in Esth 3:8 in the mouth of Haman. The diversity that characterizes these various Yhwh-groups not only refers to their geographical locations but also to their cultic practices (a temple or lack thereof ), the scope of their canons (Torah with or without the Prophets and parts of the Writings), their relationship to their respective dominating powers and majority populations, their sizes, the 74 

See Hensel, Juda, 414–415. an overview, see Rohrmoser, “Elephantine”; Kratz, Israel, 186–203; Schäfer, Judenhaß, 177–197 (detailed monographs are provided by Porten, Archives; Rohrmoser, Gods; Granerød, Dimensions). 76  See Kiefer, Exil, 95. The first letter was sent to the religious and political leadership in Jerusalem (High Priest Johanan and Governor Bagohi), but it remained unanswered. A second letter was sent to the political leadership in Jerusalem and Samaria (Governor Delaiah) and a positive reply was received. The High Priest Johanan probably had reservations about about a new temple in Elephantine, whereas the Elephantine community was eager to make contact with Jerusalem. 77 See Yavetz, Judenfeindschaft, 115, 153–163; Rohrmoser, Götter, 373–374; Granerød, Dimensions, 99–101. 78  See Gerstenberger, Israel, 105–115. 79  See Albertz, Exilszeit, 85–86; Frevel, Geschichte, 284. For a comprehensive overview of the various Jewish groups in Egypt, see Kiefer, Exil, 94–97 (esp. p. 96, note 246). The story of Joseph can also be understood in the light of an Egyptian Diaspora community. 80  See Kiefer, Exil, 91–92. 75 For

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nature of their political, religious, and financial power, etc. Before inquiring into how Esth can be best located within this diversity, we must first outline the various theological conceptualizations of life in the Diaspora that can be found in the OT.

4.  The Diversity of OT Representations of Diaspora Communities81 Thus far we have looked at those Yhwh communities that can be identified historically. We now turn to those groups that are portrayed literarily within the OT. These representations demonstrate conceptually which geographical and theological configurations were possible and which of these were canonised.82 1. Life in Yehud: Zerubbabel, Ezra, and Nehemiah, among others, returned to Jerusalem from the eastern Diaspora during the Persian period in order to remain there and rebuild the city, the wall, the Temple, and cultic life. Nehemiah, however, seems to have gone back to Susa rather than settled permanently in Jerusalem (Neh 13:6). Several OT books of the post-exilic period (Ezra-Neh; Hag; Zech) show that Jerusalem was considered to be the centre of Jewish life, even if some people or groups only joined temporarily (for specific tasks). 2. Life in the Diaspora – Oriented towards Yehud: Joseph became the most powerful Egyptian official after Pharaoh and was thus able to save his kin from famine. This is the result of God’s being with them (Gen 39:1–6; 45:4–8). Before his death, Joseph asks that his bones be transferred to the Promised Land (Gen 50:24–25), but the Israelites remain in Egypt for centuries. Daniel and his friends work at the court of various foreign rulers during the post-exilic period. They keep the food commandments (Dan 1:8–20) and Daniel prays towards Jerusalem (Dan 6:11–12).83 In both narrative contexts, it is assumed that even in the Diaspora, one can live according to God’s will (fulfil the Torah) and be blessed by God. Despite this, Jerusalem/Yehud is the implicit centre of Jewish life. 3. Life in the Diaspora – Having Departed from Yehud, but without Orientation towards It: Mordecai belongs to the Golah deported from Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar (Esth 2:5–6). For him and Esther, Susa is home and they do not intend to leave it. Nevertheless, they are guided by the Torah (though food commandments are not mentioned and the interethnic marriage be81 

This section refers to parts of chapter 5 of my dissertation (see note 1). For the following narratives, a post-exilic origin or final editing is assumed. 83 Historically, the Elephantine community could also be mentioned, which turned to Jerusalem and Samaria for certain religious questions (see Rohrmoser, Götter, 267–277). 82 

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tween Ahasuerus and Esther is not criticised). Reference should also be made to those texts that speak of some Jews in exile worshipping idols (Deut 4:28; Jer 16:13; Ezek 14:3),84 which amounts to total assimilation. The frequency of the use of the divine names ‫ ֱאל ׂ ִהים‬and ‫ יהוה‬in the above-mentioned texts can be correlated with the three categories mentioned above. Both divine names are used 102 × in Ezr and 87 × in Neh. Genesis 37–50 uses them 47 ×, and Dan 1–6 36 × (including the Aramaic designation of God ‫) ֱא ָלּה‬. Neither term occurs in Esth. Though this statistical data does not amount to a thorough study of all the designations of God in these texts, it is possible to identify a tendency: Those books primarily set in Yehud (Ezra-Neh) use the divine names more frequently than those set in the Diaspora but focused on Yehud (Gen 37–50; Dan 1–6). Esther, on the other hand, assumes a permanent existence in the Diaspora and does not use either of the terms. This suggests the following thesis-like observation: The more often explicit reference is made to God, the stronger is the connection with Yehud. This observation, however, does not take into account implicit references to God, which are particularly relevant for Esth. These observations concerning the various configurations of the relationship between Yehud and the Diaspora (along with their accompanying theological standpoints) as well as the differences in the quantitative use of God’s name demonstrate, among other things, that the OT contains different conceptions of Jewish life in the Persian–early Hellenistic periods.85 What is special about this is that all these texts were canonised.

5.  The Theology of MT Esther in its Diverse Contexts86 5.1  The Theology of MT Esther in its Historical Context The author of Esth recognised that Alexander the Great’s claim to be worshipped as a god had developed in parallel with the expansion of his empire. Esther reveals a fear on the part of the author that such worship of the king may one day be demanded of the Jews. The narrative addresses this threat by imagining a “worst case scenario”: All the Jews are to be murdered if they are disobedient (Esth 3:9, 13). This existential threat to the Jewish people provokes the question of how far Jewish loyalty to the king extends when it comes into conflict with loyalty to God’s commandments (see 1.1). In Esth, the answer to this question is 84 

See Kratz, Translatio imperii, 143. Middlemas, “Diaspora Jews,” 48, who, however, only looks at the Joseph narrative, Dan and Esth. How differently exile and Diaspora are spoken of throughout the OT is shown in the extensive and nuanced study by Kiefer, Exil (see, e. g., the conclusion to the OT texts examined on pp. 688–695). 86  This section refers to parts of sections 4.4.1, 4.4.4, and 5 of my dissertation (see note 1). 85  See

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unfolded narratively in a differentiated manner. The royal law in general, which in 3:2 calls upon Mordecai to render proskynesis to the Agagite Haman, can be described as the “crystallisation point of the relationship of the Jewish people to the other peoples,”87 thus raising the central subject of the narrative, namely the theme of the dual loyalty88 of the Diaspora Jews (which is rooted in their dual identity89 as Jews and Persians) and how they behave in the event of a conflict of loyalty.90 The dual identity and dual loyalty of Mordecai and Esther is evident in many places in the narrative: Mordecai is referred to as a Jew in seven places (2:5; 5:13; 6:10; 8:7; 9:29, 31; 10:3), while at the same time he first acts as a servant in the king’s gate (2:21–3:2) and is then appointed Persian vizier (8:1–2, 15; 10:2–3). Esther is characterised as a Jewess in three ways: she bears the Hebrew name ‫( ֲה ַד ָּסה‬2:7), is the cousin and adopted daughter of the Jew Mordecai ַ ‫ת־א ִב‬ ֲ ‫ ; ַּב‬2:15; 9:29). Through (2:5, 7), and is called the daughter of Abihail (‫יחיִ ל‬ her coronation as Persian queen (2:17) and Mordecai’s admonition to keep her Jewish identity hidden (2:10, 20), she appears in the narrative primarily as a Persian. However, Esther undergoes a development, with the result being that, in the end, she appears as both Queen Esther and daughter of Abihail (9:29: ‫ֶא ְס ֵּתר‬ ‫יחיִ ל‬ ַ ‫ת־א ִב‬ ֲ ‫) ַה ַּמ ְל ָּכה ַב‬.91 The centrality of the theme of dual loyalty is evident precisely in the strategies available to combat the genocidal threat. In principle, the Jews in Susa are willing to hold high political office. They do not shy away from the concomitant responsibility for and involvement in the Persian court. When it comes to fundamental issues of Jewish identity, they have to maintain an uncompromising stance and oppose the demands of the foreign political power (3:2–4; 5:9).92 The threat to the entire Jewish community is not played down or even ignored, but collectively mourned and lamented (4:1–3). Mordecai takes the initiative to persuade Esther to intervene against Haman’s edict (4:4–17). Consequently, it is necessary to resist false accusations and assert loyalty to the king,93 which is done in reliance on God’s guidance (4:14b, 16). Because of the 87 

Siquans, “Chosen,” 13. “Life-Style,” 215 developed the term “double loyalty” in the context of an essay on “life-style” in the Diaspora, examining Esther and Daniel. In Esth research, several scholars refer to her and use the term “dual loyalty” or “dual loyalties” (Berg, Book, 178–179; Day, Esther, 13; Greenstein, “Reading,” 234, 237; Levenson, Esther, 16; Koller, Esther, 30). Schaack, Impatience, 280, 285, 295 uses the term “Doppelloyalität.” 89  See Greenstein, “Reading,” 234; Mills, “Household,” 419, who speak of “dual identity.” 90  The theme of the threat of genocide does not constitute the central theme in Esth, for narratively it comprises only the section 3:6–9:2, while the theme of loyalty begins at the latest in 2:21–23 (in a broad sense in 1:3; the motif of disloyalty is introduced in 1:12) and ends only in 10:3. This shows that the theme of loyalty encompasses the problem of genocide. Furthermore, in 3:6, 8 Haman gives the supposed disloyalty of the Jews as the reason for his genocidal edict. Thus, the edict is a consequence enforced by Haman for alleged disloyalty to the Persian king. 91  See Berman, “Hadassah,” 647–669, who presents this development in detail. 92  See Macchi, Esther, 69. 93  See Kratz, Translatio imperii, 243. 88  Humphrey,

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imminent threat of death, it is necessary to proceed courageously and tactically wisely (like Esther) in order to achieve the goal (5:1–8; 7:1–10).94 The king must be addressed again and again (8:3–14), for a partial success (Haman’s conviction in 7:7–10) does not yet invalidate the edict. The goal of Jewish intervention is to reverse a violent edict and not to punish the possible perpetrators (8:3). It is the king who calls on Mordecai and Esther to write a counter-edict. This emphasizes the right of Jews to self-defence, which includes killing the militant enemies of the Jews who act according to the edict of Haman (8:7–13). Just as all the Jews have mourned together (4:3), they now act as one to stand up for their lives (9:1–10). The narrative does not end with the celebration of Purim, but rather with the concluding emphasis that the welfare of all Jews can only be secured in the long term if individual Jews strive to occupy the highest political offices at the court of a foreign ruler (10:2–3).95 This discussion has shown that affirmation of double loyalty – both to the divine commandment and to Persian law – is the fundamental theological claim made by the narrative. This loyalty is to be maintained even in the case of a collective existential threat. By having Mordecai refuse proskynesis (a symbol for the felt fear of an empire-wide commandment to participate in the worship of Alexander the Great), the narrator is claiming that “there is a limit to loyalty when Jews live under foreign rule.”96 This limit is ethno-religiously motivated and “do[es] not equate to refusing to submit to Persian imperial law.”97 Consequently, in the event of a conflict between the two loyalties, the ethno-religious origin is prioritised. The “first loyalty”98 is thus not to the Persian Empire, but to Jewish identity.99 The decisive aspect for the narrator, however, is that “the Book of Esther envisions no conflict by this ordering of priorities.”100 Rather, in Esth, both the Jews and the Persians benefit from this attitude,101 because the enemy of the Persian idea of order in a multicultural empire is Haman. The latter is not overcome by internal mechanisms of the Persian power apparatus, but by Mordechai and Esther.

94 

See Macchi, Esther, 69–70. See Meinhold, Esther, 104; Ego, Ester, 430–431. 96 Ego, Ester, 214. 97  Achenbach, “Vertilgen,” 293. This is also argued by Berg, Book, 99; Koller, Esther, 76. 98 Albertz, Exilszeit, 26, who uses this expression in the context of Dan 1–6, which is also about the conflict between Torah obedience and loyalty to the king. In English, the expressions “primary loyalty” (Day, Esther, 167; White, “Esther,” 172; Laniak, Shame, 96) or “first loyalty” (Fox, Character, 192) are used (both referring to Esth). 99  See Berg, Book, 99; Schaack, Impatience, 205, 285. 100 Berg, Book, 99. This position is also taken by Levenson, Esther, 65. 101  See Berg, Book, 100; Clines, Esther, 262; Schaack, Impatience, 285; Humphrey, “LifeStyle,” 215; Bellmann, Theology, 88 (with reference to Berg). 95 

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5.2  The Theology of MT Esther in the Context of Diverse Yhwh Communities We can further profile the theology of Esth by comparing it to the theologies of other contemporary Yhwh communities. Despite the existential threat posed to the Jewish people, it does not consider a return to Yehud an option (unlike in Ezra-Neh). Thus, for the community to which the author of Esther belonged, it is clear that the “Diaspora” has become and will remain their home,102 because “exile” is not connotated negatively.103 As such, they are giving expression to a new self-understanding: “Exile has apparently changed from a place of exile to a new home.”104 A source of conflict for Diaspora Jews arose through the tension between the claims of a number of OT texts that the exile was only temporary (2 Chr 36:21; Jer 25:11–12; 29:10; Zech 1:12–16),105 although many Jews of the Persian–Hellenistic periods continued to live far from Yehud. Esther takes up this inner-Jewish conflict about the legitimacy of the Diaspora and resolves it by demonstrating continuity with pre-exilic Israel through Mordecai’s genealogy,106 its references to many OT traditions, its not questioning the Diaspora context, and finally the fact that all Jews (also in Yehud) are saved through the courageous and wise actions of the Diaspora Jews Mordecai and Esther. Since the term “Diaspora” presupposes a relationship to a “centre” (Yehud),107 the use of this term must be explained here: The fact that Jerusalem is mentioned only once as the place of the origin of the exiles (2:6) is to be interpreted in such a way that the Diaspora understands itself to be autonomous and independent of Yehud. This can also be made historically plausible, for in the time of upheaval triggered by Alexander the Great, Jerusalem was not a significant political or economic centre. Indeed, apart from the temple and its associated personnel, Jerusalem was insignificant.108 Esth shows that it is the Jews in Susa who were instrumental (though not without God’s help) in the salvation of all the Jews. Since Esther is the Persian queen and Mordecai holds the office of vizier, the author of Esth is making the claim that the politically influential leaders of Susa are now in charge of all Jews.109 Consequently, the centre of Jewish life is located where political power is also exercised – in Susa. 102 

See Berg, Book, 69. Only Grossman, Esther, 242; Stern, “Esther,” 25–53 interpret Esth as a clear criticism of life in the Diaspora, one that implies a call to return to Yehud. However, this position is not held by the majority of scholars. 104 Schmid, Literaturgeschichte, 140 (translation Sumpter), who is here not talking about Esth in particular but rather the OT literature of the Persian period as a whole. Levenson, Esther, 15; Romans, “Models,” 39–40 speak of a transformation from exile to Diaspora (not to a new homeland). 105  See Koller, Esther, 14. 106 Berg, Book, 180; Berlin, Esther, xxxvi; Middlemas, “Esther,” 160. 107  See Kiefer, Exil, 44. 108  See Shalom et al., “Judah,” 66, 68, 74–75; Bieberstein, “Jerusalem,” paragraphs 7.1.4; 7.2.8. 109  See Koller, Esther, 103–104. Berg, Book, 181–182 formulates this idea only cautiously. 103 



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The author of Esth confronted the looming existential threat to his people by drawing on various Israelite narratives and traditions (in particular the Exodus and Joseph narratives, Ezra-Neh, the Amalek tradition, and the Daniel narratives),110 but in the process he also clearly left his own stamp on the material. This can be seen, for example, in his treatment of the Joseph story. This narrative is taken up in many ways,111 for example in the way it legitimizes the ascendency of individual Jews to the highest offices in the foreign court because of their ability to save God’s people in this position. In contrast to the story of Joseph, however, Esth does not understand an existence far away from Yehud to be a transitional stage but a new home. A  striking difference between Esth and the Daniel narratives lies in their understanding of human responsibility for resolving conflict with the foreign powers. Whereas Daniel and his friends completely abandon themselves to their fate and call upon God to help, Esth calls upon its readers to actively, courageously and wisely exert influence upon political decision-makers in order to avert a murder that would adversely affect both Jews and Persians. Esther’s interaction with these Jewish narratives and traditions shows that the book’s author makes consistent references to them while simultaneously taking up a distinct position of his own. Thus, on the one hand, Esther asserts continuity112 with pre-exilic Israel while, on the other hand, developing its traditions in an emancipated manner that takes into account the situation and theology of the group to which the author belonged.113 If the author does represent the views of a larger group of Diaspora Jews, then it is possible to speak of a movement that draws upon the Jewish tradition but interprets it in their own, liberal way.114 Esther presents us with a self-confident and assertive Diaspora community, one that originates in Yehud but is independent of Jerusalem.115 This self-confidence The assignment of centre and periphery made in Esth is also found in Ezra-Neh, for the four missions to rebuild the old homeland start from the eastern Diaspora (see Albertz, Exilszeit, 21–22; Bedford, “Diaspora,” 164–165; Knoppers, “Exile,” 49; Kessler, “Zechariah,” 137; Kiefer, Exil, 691–692; see further chapter 5). Grossman, Esther, 22–23 points out that in the OT, the term ‫ירה‬ ָ ‫ ִּב‬only refers to Jerusalem and Susa, which shows the “competition” of the two cities with regard to the question of the centre of Jewish life. 110 See Berlin, Esther, xxxvi–xli; Ego, Ester, 24–33; Macchi, Esther, 58–64 et al. ScholWetter, Israel, 137–138 points out that some elements in Esth do not make sense if the OT references are not taken into account. 111  See Rosenthal, “Josephsgeschichte,” 278–284; Rosenthal, “Vergleich,” 125–128; Bardtke, “Arbeiten,” 529–533; Meinhold, “Gattung I,” 306–324; Meinhold, “Gattung II,” 72–93; Berg, Book, 124–136; Wahl, “Motiv,” 59–74; Grossman, “Analogies,” 397–399; Ego, Ester, 24. 112  See Berlin, Esther, xxxvi; Levenson, “Esther Scroll,” 448; Laniak, “Volkcentrism,” 86. 113  See Wetter, “Esther,” 603; Laniak, “Volkcentrism,” 79. 114  See Schol-Wetter, Israel, 138–139. 115  See Fox, Character, 228; Schol-Wetter, Israel, 260; Bachmann, “Königshof,” 121. It is important to note that Jerusalem was a politically and economically insignificant, small city in the decades before and after 330 BCE. It was primarily dominated by the Temple (see Shalom et al., “Judah,” 66, 68, 74–75).

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is evident in their selective absorption of important traditions and in their emphatic advocacy for Jews being able to live in peace and mutual respect towards non-Jews under foreign rule – even if this relationship, characterised by loyalty, may be threatened by individual enemies of the Jews. Implicit in this perspective is a critique of those Jewish groups that strongly separate themselves from their environment.116 For the author, good cooperation with non-Jewish political institutions is a natural part of life in the “Diaspora,”117 because this is part of the double loyalty he advocates. It might be possible to characterize the narrative of Esth as “barely religious” or even “areligious.” The perspective that it offers, however, is remarkable for its openness. Diaspora Jews with more or less strongly pronounced religious identities are able to find themselves in it,118 including those who advocate integration into the foreign culture without wanting to abandon essential Jewish commandments and values. Esther thus addresses Jews who have found a new homeland far from Yehud who regard dual loyalty as a significant feature of their identity. It is also important to bear in mind that any reference to a specific religious tradition within Esth would have excluded Jews from other theological currents. Therefore, in Esth, the emphasis is not on religious identity, which was very diverse in early Hellenistic times, but on ethnic identity, because all Jews are affected by Haman’s edict – regardless of their religious orientation. In summary, Esth provides a rare insight into the theology of an early Hellenistic community in the eastern Diaspora. Despite some ambiguities in the historical setting of Esth, it is possible to discern that the author of Esther advocates dual loyalty to the Torah and to the non-Jewish king, that he draws on many scriptural traditions even while confidently developing them in his own direction, and that he makes the claim that the Jews in Susa lead all Jews in the greater empire, since they are able to intercede for all Jews at the king’s court and inscribe the festival of Purim in Israel’s festive calendar for all time.

Bibliography Achenbach, R., “Vertilgen – Töten – Vernichten (Ester 3,13): Die Genozid-Thematik im Esterbuch,” ZABR 15 (2009): 282–315. –, “‘Genocide’ in the Book of Esther: Cultural Integration and the Right of Resistance against Pogroms,” in: Between Cooperation and Hostility: Multiple Identities in Ancient Judaism and the Interaction with Foreign Powers (ed. R. Albertz/J. Wöhrle; JAJSup 11; Göttingen, 2013), 89–114. Ahn, G., Religiöse Herrscherlegitimation im achämenidischen Iran: Die Voraussetzungen und die Struktur ihrer Argumentation (Acta Iranica 31; Leiden, 1992). 116 

See Clines, Esther, 262. See Clines, Esther, 168, 324; Levenson, Esther, 133–134. 118  See Schol-Wetter, Israel, 167. 117 



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Albani, M., Daniel: Traumdeuter und Endzeitprophet (Biblische Gestalten 21; Leipzig, 2010). Albertz, R., Vom Exil bis zu den Makkabäern, Part 2 of Religionsgeschichte Israels in alttestamentlicher Zeit (GAT 8/2; Göttingen, 1992). –, Die Exilszeit: 6. Jahrhundert v. Chr (Biblische Enzyklopädie 7; Stuttgart, 2001). Bachmann, V., “Der persische Königshof als Bühne für Variationen um die Themenkomplexe Macht und Identität. Ein vergleichender Blick auf die Estherbuchversionen EstMT, EstLXX und Est A ,” in: Between Canonical and Apocryphal Texts: Processes of Reception, Rewriting, and Interpretation in Early Judaism and Early Christianity (ed. J. Frey/C. Clivaz/T. Nicklas; WUNT 419; Tübingen, 2019), 103–126. Badian, E., “Gaugamela,” in: Encyclopædia Iranica, www.iranicaonline.org/articles/ gaugamela-, accessed on March 8, 2022. Barclay, J. M. G., Jews in the Mediterranean Diaspora: From Alexander to Trajan (323 BCE–117 CE) (HCS 33; Edinburgh, 1996). Bardtke, H., Das Buch Esther (KAT 17/5; Gütersloh, 1963). –, “Neuere Arbeiten zum Estherbuch,” JEOL 19 (1967): 519–549. Bauer, D., Das Buch Daniel (NSKAT 22; Stuttgart, 1996). Bedford, P. R., “Diaspora. Homeland Relations in Ezra-Nehemiah,” VT 52 (2002): 147– 165. Bellmann, S., Politische Theologie im frühen Judentum (BZAW 525; Berlin, 2019). Berg, S. B., The Book of Esther: Motifs, Themes and Structure (SBLDS 44; Missoula, 1979). Berlin, A., Esther: The Traditional Hebrew Text with the New JPS Translation (JPSBC; Philadelphia, 2001). Berman, J. A., “Hadassah Bat Abihail. The Evolution from Object to Subject in the Character of Esther,” JBL 120 (2001): 647–669. Berquist, J. L., Judaism in Persia’s Shadow: A  Social and Historical Approach (Eugene, 2003). Bezold, H., “Violence and Empire. Hasmonean Perspectives on Imperial Power and Collective Violence in the Book of Esther,” HeBAI 10 (2021): 45–62. Bickerman, E. J., Four Strange Books of the Bible: Jonah, Daniel, Koheleth, Esther (New York, 1967). Bieberstein, K., “Jerusalem,” in: WiBiLex, www.bibelwissenschaft.de/stichwort/22380, accessed on March 8, 2022. Briant, P., Histoire de l’Empire perse: De Cyrus à Alexandre (Paris, 1996). Bush, F. W., Ruth/Esther (WBC 9; Dallas, 1996). Clines, D. J. A., Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther (NCBC; Grand Rapids, 1984). Colledge, M., “Greek and Non-Greek Interaction in the Art and Architecture of the Hellenistic East,” in: Hellenism in the East: The Interaction of Greek and Non-Greek Civilizations from Syria to Central Asia after Alexander (ed. A. Kuhrt/S. SherwinWhite; HCS 2; Berkeley, 1987), 134–162. Day, L. M., Three Faces of a Queen: Characterization in the Books of Esther (JSOTSup 186; Sheffield, 1995). –, Esther (AOTC; Nashville, 2005). Ede, F., “Murashu,” in: WiBiLex, www.bibelwissenschaft.de/stichwort/28189, accessed on March 8, 2022. Ego, B., “Mordechai’s Refusal of Proskynesis before Haman in the Context of the Religious Imagination of the Book of Esther,” in: Die Septuaginta – Texte, Theologien, Einflüsse (ed. W. Kraus/M. Karrer; WUNT 252; Tübingen, 2010), 506–522.

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Kessler, J., “Persia’s Loyal Yahwists: Power Identity and Ethnicity in Achaemenid Yehud,” in: Judah and the Judeans in the Persian Period (ed. O. Lipschits/M. Oeming; Winona Lake, 2006), 91–121. –, “The Diaspora in Zechariah 1–8 and Ezra-Nehemiah: The Role of History, Social Location, and Tradition in the Formulation of Identity,” in: Community Identity in Judean Historiography: Biblical and Comparative Perspectives (ed. G. N. Knoppers/K. A. Ristau; Winona Lake, 2009), 119–145. –, “Images of Exile: Representations of the ‘Exile’ and ‘Empty Land’ in Sixth to Fourth Century BCE Yehudite Literature,” in: The Concept of Exile in Ancient Israel and its Historical Contexts (ed. E. Ben Zvi/C. Levin; BZAW 404; Berlin/New York, 2010), 309–351. Kiefer, J., Exil und Diaspora: Begrifflichkeiten und Deutungen im antiken Judentum und in der hebräischen Bibel (ABG 19; Leipzig, 2005). Knoppers, G. N., “Exile, Return and Diaspora: Expatriates and Repatriates in Late Biblical Literature,” in: Texts, Contexts and Readings in Postexilic Literature: Explorations into Historiography and Identity Negotiation in Hebrew Bible and Related Texts (ed. L. Jonker; FAT II/53; Tübingen, 2011), 29–61. –, “‘Married into Moab.’ The Exogamy Practiced by Judah and His Descendants in the Judahite Lineages,” in: Mixed Marriages: Intermarriage and Group Identity in the Second Temple Period (ed. C. Frevel; LHBOTS 547; London, 2011), 170–191. Koller, A., Esther in Ancient Jewish Thought (Cambridge, 2014). Kottsieper, I., “Zusätze zu Ester,” in: Das Buch Baruch; Der Brief des Jeremia; Zusätze zu Ester und Daniel (ed. O. H. Steck/R. G. Kratz/I. Kottsieper; ATD Apokryphen 5; Göttingen, 1998), 109–210. Kratz, R. G., Translatio imperii: Untersuchungen zu den aramäischen Danielerzählungen und ihrem theologiegeschichtlichen Umfeld (WMANT 63; Neukirchen-Vluyn, 1991). –, Historisches und biblisches Israel: Drei Überblicke zum Alten Testament (Tübingen, 2017). Kuhrt, A., The Persian Empire: A Corpus of Sources from the Achaemenid Period (London, 2010). Laniak, T. S., Shame and Honor in the Book of Esther (SBLDS 165; Atlanta, 1998). –, “Esther’s Volkcentrism and the Reframing of Post-Exilic Judaism,” in: The Book of Esther in Modern Research (ed. S. W. Crawford/L. J. Greenspoon; JSOTSup 380; London, 2003), 77–90. Lau, P. H. W., Identity and Ethics in the Book of Ruth: A Social Identity Approach (BZAW 416; Berlin, 2011). Lebram, J., “Esther (Buch),” TRE 10 (1982), 391–395. Levenson, J. D., “The Esther Scroll in Ecumenical Perspective,” JES 13 (1976): 440–451. –, Esther: A Commentary (OTL; Louisville, 1997). Loader, J. A., “Das Buch Ester,” in: H.‑P. Müller/O. Kaiser/J. A. Loader, Das Hohelied, Klagelieder, Das Buch Ester, 4th ed. (ATD 16/2; Göttingen, 1992), 201–280. Macchi, J.‑D., Esther (IECOT; Stuttgart, 2018). Martinez-Sève, L., “Susa: IV. The Hellenistic and Parthian Periods,” in: Encyclopædia Iranica, www.iranicaonline.org/articles/susa-iv-hellenistic-parthian-periods, accessed on March 8, 2022. Mathys, H.‑P., “Der achämenidische Hof im Alten Testament,” in: The Achaemenid Court (ed. B. Jacobs/R. Rollinger; Classica et Orientalia 2; Wiesbaden 2010), 231–308.

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Meinhold, A., “Die Gattung der Josephsgeschichte und des Estherbuches. Diasporanovelle I.,” ZAW 87 (1975): 306–324. –, “Die Gattung der Josephsgeschichte und des Estherbuches. Diasporanovelle II.,” ZAW 88 (1976): 72–93. –, Das Buch Esther (ZBKAT 13; Zürich, 1983). Middlemas, J., “Biblical Case Studies of Diaspora Jews and Constructions of (Religious) Identity,” in: Religion in Diaspora: Cultures of Citizenship (ed. J. Garnett/S. L. Hausner; London, 2015), 36–54. –, “Dating Esther: Historicity and the Provenance of Masoretic Esther,” in: On Dating Biblical Texts to the Persian Period: Discerning Criteria and Establishing Epochs (ed. R. J. Bautch/M. Lackowski; FAT II/101; Tübingen, 2019), 149–168. Mills, M. E., “Household and Table: Diasporic Boundaries in Daniel and Esther,” CBQ 68 (2006): 408–420. Moore, C. A., Esther: Introduction, Translation, and Notes (AB 7B; Garden City, 1971). Newsom, C. A./Breed, B. W., Daniel: A Commentary (OTL; Louisville, 2014). Oeming, M., “‘To Be Destroyed, to Be Killed, and to Be Annihilated’ (Esther 7,4): Historicity and Fictionality of Anti-Jewish Pogrom Stories before the Maccabean Crisis,” in: Times of Transition: Judea in the Early Hellenistic Period (ed. S. Honigman/C. Nihan/O. Lipschits; Mosaics – Studies on Ancient Israel 1; University Park, 2021), 357–372. Paton, L. B., A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Book of Esther (ICC; New York, 1908). Pearce, L. E./Wunsch, C., Documents of Judean Exiles and West Semites in Babylonia in the Collection of David Sofer (CUSAS 28; Bethesda, 2014). Pfeiffer, S., Herrscher- und Dynastiekulte im Ptolemäerreich: Systematik und Einordnung der Kultformen (MBPF 98; München, 2008). Porten, B., Archives from Elephantine: The Life of an Ancient Jewish Military Colony (Berkeley, 1968). Rohrmoser, A., “Elephantine,” in: WiBiLex, www.bibelwissenschaft.de/stichwort/17256, accessed on March 8, 2022. –, Götter, Tempel und Kult der Judäo-Aramäer von Elephantine: Archäologische und schriftliche Zeugnisse aus dem perserzeitlichen Ägypten (AOAT 396; Münster, 2014). Römer, T., “Conflicting Models of Identity and the Publication of the Torah in the Persian Period. Introduction: The Positive Views of the Persians in the Hebrew Bible,” in: Between Cooperation and Hostility: Multiple Identities in Ancient Judaism and the Interaction with Foreign Powers (ed. R. Albertz/J. Wöhrle; JAJSup 11; Göttingen, 2013), 33–51. Rosenthal, L. A., “Die Josephsgeschichte, mit den Büchern Ester und Daniel verglichen,” ZAW 15 (1895): 278–284. –, “Nochmal der Vergleich Ester, Joseph-Daniel,” ZAW 17 (1897): 125–128. Santoso, A., Die Apokalyptik als jüdische Denkbewegung: Eine literarkritische Untersuchung zum Buch Daniel (Marburg, 2007). Schaack, T., Die Ungeduld des Papiers: Studien zum alttestamentlichen Verständnis des Schreibens anhand des Verbums katab im Kontext administrativer Vorgänge (BZAW 262; Berlin, 1998). Schäfer, P., Judenhaß und Judenfurcht: Die Entstehung des Antisemitismus in der Antike (Berlin, 2010). Schipper, B. U., Geschichte Israels in der Antike (München, 2018).



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List of Contributors Bartosz Adamczewski is Associate Professor at Cardinal Stefan Wyszyński University in Warsaw. C. L. Crouch is Professor of Hebrew Bible and Ancient Judaism and Chair of the Department of Textual, Historical and Systematic Studies of Judaism and Christianity at Radboud University Nijmegen and Research Associate in the Department of Old Testament and Hebrew Scriptures at the University of Pretoria. Vjatscheslav Dreier, University of Heidelberg, received his doctorate on the Esther Book (2017–2022; supervised by Prof. Dr. Dr. h. c. Manfred Oeming). Stephen Germany (Ph.D., Emory University) is a post-doctoral researcher at the University of Basel. Uzi Greenfeld is a field archaeologist for the Israel Antiquities Authority (CAJS). Charlotte Hempel is Professor of Hebrew Bible and Second Temple Judaism, University of Birmingham, UK, and a Research Fellow at the Department of Old Testament and Hebrew Scriptures, Faculty of Theology and Religion, University of Pretoria. Benedikt Hensel is Full-Professor of Hebrew Bible at the Carl von Ossietzky Universität Oldenburg. Kishiya Hidaka is a PhD student at the University of Zürich (from 2020), funded by Schweizerische Bundes-Exzellenz-Stipendien by Eidgenössische Stipendienkommission für ausländische Studierende (ESKAS). Magnar Kartveit is Professor of Old Testament. He is emeritus at VID Specialized University. Yigal Levin is a professor in the Israel and Golda Koschitzky Department of Jewish History and Contemporary Jewry at Bar-Ilan University. Dany Nocquet is emeritus Professor of Old Testament and Biblical Hebrew at the Faculté de Montpellier, Institut Protestant de Théologie. Dalit Regev is a researcher at the Israel Antiquities Authority (CAJS).

252

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Wolfgang Schütte, Dr. theol. 2007, Kirchliche Hochschule in Bethel/Bielefeld. He is currently in ecclesiastical service in the Protestant Church of Rheinland/ Germany. Ann-Kristin Wigand, PhD at the Humboldt-University of Berlin. She is currently in ecclesiastical service in the Protestant Church of Hessen and Nassau/Germany.

Index of Sources Hebrew Bible Genesis 1 216 9:16 215 9:20–21 56 17 216 17:4–7 216 17:7 215 17:13 215 17:19 215 31–32 176 32:3 180 37–50 239 39:1–6 238 42:22 141 45:4–8 238 50:24–25 238 Exodus 1 231 2:24–25 220 6:5–8 220 6:7 94 10:2 94 11:5 100 12:20 17 12:29 100 28:38 56 30:11–16 148 35:3 17 36–40 145 38:25–26 148 40 217 Leviticus 1–9 217 1:3–9 56 3:17 17 7:26 17 16 217

16:30–33 56 18:24–30 30 23:3 17 23:21 17 23:31 17 24:8 215, 217, 221 26 6, 114, 205–210, 213, 215–221 26:4 210, 218 26:5 219 26:6 215–216, 219 26:8 216 26:9 215–216 26:11 216–217 26:12–13 217 26:12 217 26:13 219 26:19–20 210 26:27–45 207 26:27–39 209 26:27–32 208 26:29b 209 26:32–45 206 26:32–39 206 26:33–39 209 26:33 207, 209, 237 26:34 114 26:34a 207 26:34b 207 26:36–45 209 26:36 207–209 26:36a 208 26:36aα 208 26:36aβ–37a 208 26:36b 207 26:37–38 208 26:37 207 26:37b–38 208 26:37b 208

254 26:38 207–208 26:39 207–209 26:39aα 208 26:39aβ–b 208 26:40–45 208–209 26:40–44 210 26:40 206, 209 26:41 207 26:42 207, 215 26:43 207 26:44 207 26:45 210, 215 Numbers 13:13 123 26 176 27:17 99 32 176 35:29 17 Deuteronomy 1:1–32:50 118 2–3 176 2:30 94 4 205–207, 220–221 4:19 100 4:25–27 209 4:27 209 4:28 239 6:17 146 7 32 7:1–4 30 7:1 126 11:27 16 11:29–30 16 12 16 12:5–27 128 12:12–14 18 12:13–14 16 12:20a 18 17:3 100 20:17 126 23 32 23:4 30–32, 182 23:8 30 24:16 139 27 16 28–30 205, 220–221

Index of Sources

28 210 28:23–24 210 28:24 210 28:29 142 28:33 142 28:36–37 210 28:37 209 28:63–65 210 28:64–65 209 30:1–5 209 32:51–34:12 118 33:6 118 33:7–25 118, 122 33:7 5, 117, 119, 124–125, 127 33:7a 119, 124 33:7bc 124 33:7b 119 33:7c 119 33:7d 120, 125 33:7e 120, 125 33:7f 120–121, 125 33:8 119 33:12 119 33:13–17 125 33:13 119 33:18 119 33:20 119 33:22 119 33:23 119 33:24 119 33:26 123 33:26a 122–123 33:26bc 124 Joshua 6:26 139 10:10 95 10:20 95 12–13 176 13–21 185 13:26 180 13:30 180 14:6–14 120 15:8 126 15:13–20 120 15:13–19 118 15:17 119



15:63 126 17 176 18:16 126 18:28 126 19:15 124 20–22 176 21:38 180 22 186 22:9–34 185–186 22:10–34 128 22:24–25 186 24:29 118 Judges 1:1 118 1:8 122 1:10–15 118 1:11–15 122 1:13 119–120 1:21 126 2:10b–3:7 118 3:8–18:31 118, 122, 125 3:8–11 5, 119, 122, 125, 127–128 3:8–10 121 3:8 119 3:9–11 121 3:9a 119 3:9b 119 3:9c 119–120 3:10ab 121 3:10c–e 120 3:10de 120 3:11 120 4:7 94 5 176 5:11 123 5:13 123 6:1–2 120 7 176 7:9 94 8 176 8:28 120 10–12 176 11:24 140 11:33 95 12:8 124 12:10 124

Hebrew Bible

17:6 122 17:7–9 124, 127 18:31 127 19–20 125 19:1–20:13c 5, 122, 124–126 19 122 19:1–9 127 19:1–3 126 19:1–2 124–127 19:1 122 19:2–3 124 19:2 122 19:3–9 5, 127–128 19:3–4 124 19:5–9 124 19:5 124 19:6 124 19:8 124 19:9 124 19:10–12 5, 127–128 19:10 124, 126 19:11 126 19:12 126 19:15 122, 124 19:16–21 126–127 19:17 124 19:18 122, 124–125, 127 19:21–23 124 19:22–30 122 19:26 125 19:27 125 19:28 122 19:29–20:48 125 19:29 125, 127 20–21 176 20:1 123 20:2 123, 125 20:3–13c 123 20:4 124 20:8 125 20:10 125 20:13d–17 124 20:18 125 20:22 125 20:23 125 20:26–28 125 20:26 125 20:31 125

255

256 20:35 125 21:19 127 21:21 127 21:25 122 1 Samuel 2:1–10 135 6 142 6:3 135, 142 6:4 142 6:8 142 6:17 142 9–2 Sam 8 177–178 9–14 176 9:9 147 11 176, 180 12:4 142 13 176 13:1 137 13:7 180 16–2 Sam 8 176 18:6 184 19:8 95 23:5 95 31 136, 176 31:11–13 180 2 Samuel 1–9 137 1–2 178 2 176, 179–181, 187 2:4–7 180 2:4a 180 2:8–4:12 180 2:8–10a 182 2:8–9 181, 186 2:8 180–181 2:9 180 2:12 180 2:29–32 182 2:29 180 3:22–39 135 3:34 141 5:4–5 136 5:6–8 126 5:19 94 7:10 141 8:15–18 144

Index of Sources

8:16–18 134 8:18 134, 144 9–20 176–178 9 144, 178 9:3–5 182 10–1 Kgs 2 133 10–1 Kgs 2:11 134, 137 10–26 140, 145 10–20 144 11 178 11:1a 178 11:2 178 11:4 178 11:5 178 11:27 178 12:24 178 12:29 178 12:31b 178 13:37–38 182 15–20 178–179, 181, 185–186 15–19 179–180, 183 15 181 15:1–7 179 15:1–6 179 15:1 178–179 15:2–6 179 15:7–17:29 179 15:7–13 179 15:9–11a 179 15:10 179 15:12 179 15:12b 178–179 15:13–17 181 15:13–16a 179 15:13 179 15:14–17:29 179 15:16–16:13 182 15:19–22 179 16:1–4 179, 181 16:5–12 179, 181 16:14–15a 179 17–19 176 17 180, 187 17:13 93 17:22 178–179, 181 17:24 179–181, 186 17:26 179



17:27–29 181–182 17:27 180–183, 184–186 17:29 182 18:1–19:9 181 18:1–19:9a 179 18 181 18:1 179 18:1a 178–179 18:2–19:9 179 18:6–7 179 18:6 178–179 18:8 179 18:9a 179 18:9b–14 179 18:9b 178–179 18:15 178–179 18:16 179 18:16a 178–179 18:17 179 18:17a 178–179 18:19–19:8 179 19 180, 187 19:9–10 179 19:9 182 19:9b–20:13 179 19:10–43 179 19:10b 181 19:11–12 179 19:12–44 182 19:14–15 179 19:16–17a 179, 181 19:17b–18a 179 19:18b–23 179, 181 19:20 141–142 19:24–30 179 19:31–40 185 19:31 180 19:32–41 182, 184, 187 19:32–40 182–186 19:32–39 179 19:32 180 19:33b 182 19:40a 179 20:1–22 179 20:1–2 179, 181 20:3 179 20:4–22 179, 181 20:23–26 134, 144

Hebrew Bible

21–24

257

134–137, 139, 141, 144–146, 148 21 135, 144, 148, 176 21:1–14 134–135, 184–185 21:1 134 21:3–6 134 21:3 148 21:8–9 134 21:8 184 21:12 134 21:14 135, 148 21:15–22 134–135, 144 21:15–17 134 22 134–135 22:17 134 22:19 134 22:21 134 22:24 134 22:26–28 134 22:30–31 134 22:33–51 134 23:1–7 134–135 23:1–6 134 23:8–39 134–135, 144 23:14–16 134 23:21–22 134 23:33–39 134 24 5, 132–136, 140–149, 176 24:2 142 24:3 142 24:4 141 24:6 180 24:9 143 24:10 141–142, 148 24:11 147 24:12 141 24:13 148 24:15 143 24:16–22 134, 136, 143–144 24:16 135, 141 24:17 135, 141–143, 148 24:18 143 24:22 141 24:24 133 24:25 135–136, 139, 146, 148 26:3 138–139 26:11 135–136, 144

258 1 Kings 1–2 176–178, 180 1:1–2:11 144 1 134, 135, 144, 146 1:1 136, 139, 144 1:5 178 1:7 178 1:8 178 1:13 100 1:17 100 1:24 100 1:30 100 1:35 100 1:38 178 1:39 178 1:40 178 1:48 100 2 178, 184 2:1–9 135 2:3 138–139, 144 2:5 135 2:7 180, 183, 185–186 2:8 180 2:11 135–136 2:12–21:43 137 2:19 100 3:6 100 4 176 4:14 180 8:3 109 8:47 141 11 33 12 176, 186 12:5–6 92 12:17 140 13 139 14:24 140 15 176 16–18 102 16:31 92 16:32 143 16:34 139 17–18 94, 95, 98 17 176 17:1 99 18 92, 97–98 18:15 99 18:17–46 100

Index of Sources

18:19 97 19:2 93 19:18 94–95 20–22 90 20 4, 89–91, 95–96, 99, 102–103, 176 20:1–22 90, 95–96, 102–103 20:1–8 91 20:1 91 20:2–8 92 20:7 92 20:9–12 91, 93 20:13–14 91, 93 20:13b 94 20:15–18 91, 94 20:15 95 20:19–22 91, 95 20:21 95 20:22 95 20:23–43 95 20:23–40 90 20:23 90 21 89, 92, 102 21:19 101 22–25 137 22 4, 89–90, 95–96, 98, 100, 102–103, 176 22:1–40 90, 96–97, 100–103 22:1–9 96 22:4 97 22:6 97 22:10–14 96, 98 22:11 98 22:15–23 96, 99 22:15 99 22:16 99 22:17 99 22:21–23 100 22:22 100 22:24–28 96, 101 22:24 101 22:29–40 96, 101 22:29–31 101 22:30 101 22:40 101 22:41–54 96 22:54 136



2 Kings 1:1 136 1:17 139 1:18a–d 139 1:19 139 2:2 99 2:4 99 2:6 99 3 139 5–7 102 5 91, 93, 103 5:5–7 92 5:5–6 92 5:16 99 6 91, 93, 103 6:24 91 6:32–7:2 92 6:32–33 92 7 103 7:9 141 8–10 176 8:16–24 139 8:28–9:28 101 9 96 9:22 101 10:31 138–139 13:7 138 13:13 100 13:14–21 138, 140 14:6 139 15 176 15:29 176 16 138, 140, 144–146 16:3 140 17 138, 140 17:1–6 138–139 17:2 144–146 17:6 176 17:8 140 17:9 138–139 17:12 138 17:13 139, 147 17:15–19 138–139 17:15 138–139 17:16 138 17:34 139 17:37 139 18–25 140

Hebrew Bible

259

18–19 103 18:5 138, 140 18:35 208 19:11 208 21:2–9 148 21:2 140 21:3 100, 143 21:5 100 21:8 138–139 21:10–15 113 22–23 110, 138–139 22 100 22:8 139 22:11 139 23 113 23:4–5 100 23:15–16 112 23:16–18 139 23:24 139 23:25 138–139 24:3 113 24:8–25:21 235 24:10–16 192 25 136 25:1–21 192 25:21 139 25:26 139 25:27–30 192 1 Chronicles 1–9 106–107 5:1–3 114 5:1–2 114 5:1 114 5:1aα–2 114 5:3–5 114 5:3 114 6:80 180 10–29 107 11:10–47 134 20:4–8 134 21 132, 134–135, 142–144, 146–147, 149 21:1 135 21:2 142 21:3 142 21:4 142 21:5 143

260 21:8 143 21:9 147 21:10 143 21:14 143 21:15 135, 143 21:16 135, 143 21:17 142 21:18 135, 143 21:20 135 21:25 133 22 134 22:1 146 22:19 108 26:28 148 29:29 133 2 Chronicles 1–9 107 6:37 141–142 7:3 230 7:12 109–110 10–36 108 12 96 15:5 208 16:7 148 16:10 148 18:4 97 18:5 97 18:10 98 18:16 99 18:18 100 19:2 148 20:8 108 26:18 109 28:10 108 29 111 29:15–19 111 29:15–16 111–112 29:18 111–112 29:21 109 29:29 230 29:30 148 30 111 30:8 109 30:18–20 112 30:18 111 33:3 100, 143 33:5 100

Index of Sources

34–35 110 34 110–113, 115 34:3–9 111 34:5 113 34:6–7 115 34:6 115 34:33 113 36 113, 207 36:14 113 36:17 109 36:20 114 36:21–22 114 36:21 113–115, 207, 242 36:22 114–115 Ezra 1:1 114 1:2 160 2:59–63 185 2:61 185 3:3 208, 235 4:1–5 235 4:1–4 235 5:11–12 160 6:9–10 160 6:21 235 7:12 160 7:21 160 7:23 160 9–10 27, 29 9 31–33 9:1–5 30 9:1–2 235 9:1 208 9:2 208 9:7 208 9:11 208, 235 10 31 10:2 235 10:11 235 10:44 [1 Esd 9:39] 31 Nehemiah 1:4–5 160 1:8 237 2:4 160 2:10 32 2:19 32



2:20 160 4:12 38 7:61–65 185 7:61 185 7:63 185 10:29 235 13 27, 31–32 13:1–2 31 13:6 238 13:23–31 32 13:23 33 Esther 1:1 94 1:3 94, 240 1:12 240 1:16 94 2:5–6 238 2:5 240 2:6 242 2:7 240 2:10 240 2:15 240 2:17 240 2:20 240 2:21–3:2 240 2:21–23 240 3 230 3:2–4 240 3:2 230, 232–233, 240 3:6–9:2 240 3:6 240 3:8 240 3:9 239 3:13 239 4:1–3 240 4:3 241 4:4–17 240 4:14b 240 4:16 240 5:1–8 241 5:9 240 5:13 240 6:10 240 7:1–10 241 7:7–10 241 8:1–2 240 8:3–14 241

Hebrew Bible

8:3 241 8:7–13 241 8:7 240 8:15 240 9:1–10 241 9:17–19 234 9:29 240 9:31 240 10:2–3 240–241 10:3 240 Job 33:27 141 40:9 123 Psalms 2 231 18 135 22:30 230 44:12 237 46 231 57 231 59 231 95:6 230 105:44 208 106:27 208 106[105]:6 141 107:23 208 109 231 Proverbs 6:16–19 164 23:13 163 25:9–10 162 25:15 163 26:2 163 26:3 164 27:1 162 Qoheleth 10:20 163 Isaiah 1:1–7 55 6:1 100 7:14–17 121 9:5–6 121 11:2 120–122, 127

261

262 16:4 237 34:4 100 36–37 121 36:20 208 41:17–20 94 49:22–26 94 52:11–12 214 54:10 215 60:21 56 61:3 56 Jeremiah 4:2 99 5:2 99 6:1 193 8:2 100 12:16 99 16:13 239 16:14 99 16:15 99, 208 19:13 100 20:4 94 20:7 100 23 99 23:7 99 23:8 99, 208 23:28 99 24 211–212 25:11–12 114, 242 25:12 114 26:15 99 27–29 100 27–28 98, 101 27:14–16 100 28–29 90 28:13 98 28:15 100 29:10 114, 242 34 193 35:11 193 37:11–12 193 38–39 101 38:16 99 39:4–9 193 39:7–12 193 40–44 237 40:4–6 193 40:7–10 193

Index of Sources

40:11–12 193 40:11 237 41 192 41:10 193 41:13–16 194 41:17–18 194 42–44 209 42:5 99 42:7–22 194 43:2–7 194 43:6 194 44 199 44:3 199 44:8 199 44:11 199 44:14 194, 199 44:17–18 200 44:28 194 50:19 176 52:7 193 52:30 192 Ezekiel 1–3 212 1 18, 214–215 1:1–3 215 3:22–24a 214 3:22–23 215 4–5 209 5:5 208 5:6 208 5:9 30 5:10 237 5:11 30 6:8 208, 237 6:10 94 6:13 94 7:3 30 7:8 30 8–11 18, 214–215 11:17 208 12:15 208, 237 14:3 239 16 198 16:22 30 16:36 30 16:59–63 220 20 197



20:23 208, 237 20:34 208 20:41 208 22:4 208 22:15 208 23 198 23:28 94 25:4 94 25:7 208 30:7 208 30:23 208 30:26 208 33–37 212 33:21–29 212 33:21 215 34 6, 99, 208, 218–219 34:11–16 220 34:13 208 34:25–30 219 34:25 208, 215, 219 34:26–27 218 34:27 219 35:1–36:15 214 35:10 208 36:19 208 36:24 208 37 6, 18, 213–219 37:1–14 198 37:1–10 214 37:1 215 37:7a 214 37:8b–10 214 37:11–14 214 37:11 214 37:11b 213 37:12a 213 37:12b 213 37:14 213–214 37:15–28 214 37:15–24 213 37:25–28 214 37:25 213 37:26–27 216 37:26 18, 215–217, 219 37:26a 217 37:26bβ 217

Hebrew Bible

37:27 216–217 39 112 39:11–16 112 39:25–29 213 39:27 208 40–48 18, 214–217 40:1 215 43 217 Daniel 1–6 232, 234, 239, 241 1 235 1:8–20 238 3 231 3:1–7 230 3:29 141 6:11–12 238 9:7 208 9:15 141–142 Hosea 2:7–16 126 2:7 124 2:9 124 2:16 100, 124 8:12 145 Amos 5:21–24 55 Obadiah 19–21 176 Micah 5:1 127 6:6–8 55 7:14 176 Haggai 1:1 132 Zechariah 1–8 214 1:12–16 242 2:1–4 237 10:10 176

263

264

Index of Sources

New Testament Matthew 22:43–44 133

Luke 20:42 133

Mark 12:36 133

Deuteronocanonical/Pseudepigraphic/Cognate Literature Additions to Esther C5–7 230

1 Enoch 93:9–10 56

Sirach 46:14 141 46:20 141 50:25 38

3 Esdras 3–4 164 Odes of Solomon 7:29 141

Aramaic Documents from Ancient Egypt (TAD) A3.5–7 159 A3.6:1 160 A3.9–11 159 A4.1–4 159 A4.1 159 A4.3:3 160 A4.3:5 160 A4.5 157 A4.7–10 14 A4.7–9 157 A4.7–8 157, 159 A4.7:2 160 A4.7:21–22 157 A4.7:27–28 160 A4.8 157 A4.8:2 160 A4.8:26–27 160 A4.9:3–4 160 A4.9:8 158 A4.9:9–11 158 A4.10 157–158

A6.1 159 C1.1 162 C1.1:53–54 166 C1.1:80 162 C1.1:82 163 C1.1:84–92 166 C1.1:89–90 163 C1.1:141 162 C1.1:176 163 C1.1:178 164 C1.1:187–188 164 C2.1 167 C3.15 159 D7.6 159 D7.10 158 D7.12 158 D7.16 158 D7.24 159 D7.28 158 D7.35 158 D7.48 158

265

Inscriptions, Ostraca, Papyri



Classical Literature Homer Odyssea 11.271–280 118

Herodotus Historiae 1.119 228 1.134 228 3.86 228 8.118 228

Xenophon Cyropaedia 8.3.14 228

Dead Sea Scrolls 4Q266 [4QDa]   6 ii 1–4 53 4Q396 1–2 iii   11 – iv 1a 53 4Q550 164 4QHarvesting 51 4QJera 50 4QJerc 50 4QMMT 51–53, 56 4QOrdinances 51 4QOrdinancesc   (4Q514 1) 53 4QpaleoExodm 50 4QSama 134–136, 142–144, 148 5Q2 136 5QKings 136, 139, 144

CD 1:7 56 CD 9–16 51 CD 11:17–18 55 1QS 5:13 54 1QS 6:13–23 51 1QS 8:1–16 55 1QS 8:4–10 56 1QS 9:3–5 55 2QJer 50 4Q51 134 4Q256 51 4Q256 9 10–11 54 4Q258 1 9 54 4Q261 51 4Q266 5 ii 4–7 55

Inscriptions, Ostraca, Papyri Collection Clermont-Ganneau ostraca no. 267 184 Mount Gerizim inscriptions no. 150 108–109 no. 199 109–110

Papyri P. Berlin 13446 P. Berlin 15658 P. Berlin 15709 P. Brooklyn 47.218.94 Papyrus 967

161 169 169 184 216

Vassal Treaties of Esarhaddon § 63–64 210

266

Index of Sources

Josephus Antiquitates judaicae 7.13 134, 143, 148 7.14 134 11.8 236 11.209–210 230

11.230 230 11.302–303 34 Contra Apionem 1.190–193 230

Babylonian Talmud Baba Batra 14b Yoma 22b

133 147

Index of Subjects Aaron 128 Abraham (person and tradition) 29, 207, 220 Alexander the Great 226, 227, 228, 229, 231, 232, 234, 239, 241, 242 Altar 105, 109, 111, 112, 113, 115, 132, 146, 185 Al-Yahudu 13, 34, 35, 37, 40, 192, 236 Aram/Arameans 36, 37, 39 ʾAraq el-Emir 71, 76, 78 Bethel 36, 112 Centralization (formula) 18, 109, 110 Chosen place (Maqom; Deuteronomy) 16 David 95, 106, 107, 108, 111, 132–152 Dead Sea Scrolls 47–63 Demarcation 156 Deuteronomistic History 18, 89, 90, 95, 100, 102, 103, 108, 139, 158, 220 Diversity, Yahwistic 13–15, 19, 48–63, 117, 128, 225, 234–238 Edom/Edomites 19, 27, 30, 38–41, 122, 196, 237–238 Egypt/Egyptian 17, 29, 30, 35–37, 155–174 Elephantine 14, 28, 36–41, 109, 155–174, 184, 237 Elijah 90, 94, 95, 98, 99–102 Ephraim 111, 12, 113, 115, 124–128, 180 Exodus narrative 19, 205, 210, 219, 243 Ezekiel 94, 99, 111, 112, 192–202, 206, 209, 210–221 Formative period/processes 11–13, 15

Gerizim, Mount 13, 16, 37, 38, 50, 65–88, 108–110, 115, 127, 137, 149, 236 Hexateuch 17 Hexapla 134, 141 Identity marker/identity formation 11, 12, 14, 17, 18, 19, 27, 33–41, 183, 192–202, 205–223, 240, 241, 244 Idumea/Idumeans 38–40 Israel, concepts of 19, 210, 215, 217 Jacob 206 Josephus 32, 131, 134, 144, 147, 148, 186, 230, 236 Kaige 134–149 Kitāb al-Tarīkh 131–134, 146, 149 Moab 19, 29–33, 121, 182, 196, 237, 238 Moses 31, 119, 139, 210 Pentateuch, Samaritan 50, 132, 145, 207 Pentateuch, Common 16 Priestly Writings/Traditions 16, 18, 30, 148, 216, 217, 220 Qumran 48–57, 134 Sabbath (observance) 17, 32, 36, 41, 113–115, 158, 206, 207 Sanballat 28, 32, 34, 37, 38, 42, 128 Shechem 65, 71, 73, 74, 76–79, 86 Tobiads 133, 162, 164, 170 Transjordan 13, 19, 33, 38, 40, 71, 128, 175–189, 196 Vulgata 145