Haggadah in Early Judaism and the New Testament 3161600908, 9783161600906

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Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament Herausgeber / Editor Jörg Frey (Zürich) Mitherausgeber / Associate Editors Markus Bockmuehl (Oxford) · James A. Kelhoffer (Uppsala) Tobias Nicklas (Regensburg) · Janet Spittler (Charlottesville, VA) J. Ross Wagner (Durham, NC)

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Haggadah in Early Judaism and the New Testament Edited by

Roger David Aus

Mohr Siebeck

Roger David Aus, born 1940; 1971 PhD in New Testament Studies, Yale University; retired pastor of German-speaking congregations in Berlin within the Ev. Kirche Berlin-Brandenburg-­ schlesische Oberlausitz.

ISBN 978-3-16-160090-6 / eISBN 978-3-16-160091-3 DOI 10.1628/978-3-16-160091-3 ISSN 0512-1604 / eISSN 2568-7476 (Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament) The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliographie; detailed bibliographic data are available at http://dnb.dnb.de. © 2021 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 printed on non-aging paper by Gulde Druck in Tübingen, and bound by Buchbinderei Spinner in Ottersweier. Printed in Germany.

Dedication To all those who openmindedly try to appreciate the great riches of haggadah / aggadah in early Judaism and the New Testament. That is an invitation, especially to those whose expertise lies elsewhere. As the essays in this volume demonstrate, you will be deeply rewarded.

Preface Because I am deeply convinced of how haggadic sources are of major relevance to a much better understanding of New Testament texts, I proposed a volume dealing with various aspects of haggadah in early Judaism and the New Testament to Professor Jörg Frey, the main editor of the WUNT series. I am deeply grateful to him for having accepted it. My thanks also go to Elena Müller, the program director of Theology and Jewish Studies at Mohr Siebeck, for her guidance during the publication process, as well as to Jana Trispel and Tobias Stäbler for their careful editorial remarks. Above all I thank my son, Dr. Jonathan Aus, who after formatting almost all my other volumes, has also done so with this, probably my final one. At the age of eighty, it could be time to stop writing and pay more attention to the insights of others (my wife, however, refuses to believe this will happen). I am grateful to the other seventeen authors who accepted my invitation to contribute an essay to this volume: women and men, Jews and Christians, all experts in their own fields. Because of the extended COVID-19 crisis, for many of them this has been a very trying time: having to teach via video, the library being closed, being shut in at home with kindergarten or school children. Thus I take my hat off and salute them for submitting their essays in time for this publication. It has been a pleasure for me to edit them – in three languages. Some fifty years ago I became acquainted with the importance of haggadah / aggadah while doing a Ph.D. in New Testament Studies at Yale University. Among other things I studied the Tannaitic commentary on Deuteronomy, Sipre, with Judah Goldin and a small group of his students. There I learned to appreciate not only Judaic (early Jewish) halakhic interpretation, but also how haggadic elements are often employed to buttress arguments and to make them more easily “digestible.” For example, a parable is related in order to illustrate what an halakhic assertion means. Even today a rabbi or pastor when teaching or giving a sermon knows that stating a theological truth can indeed be correct but rather boring, and it will not be retained by the listener without the speaker’s illustrating it in a concrete way: “This is as if….” Haggadah (for a concise definition, see Günter Stemberger’s introductory essay here) adds flesh to the dry bones of a skeleton, making it much more attractive to view and to contemplate. And sometimes it simply entertains, thus holding one’s attention.

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Having done a double major in English and German Studies at St. Olaf College in Northfield, Minnesota, I taught English for a year at a Protestant Gymnasium near Heidelberg before studying theology at Harvard Divinity School and Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. During the latter, I served my vicar year in Geneva, Switzerland, in part as a research assistant in the Department of Theology of the Lutheran World Federation, in the same building as the World Council of Churches. Since then I have been greatly interested in ecumenism. My wife is German, and I am bilingual. While an ordained pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, after my Ph.D. in 1971 I served three different German-speaking congregations in Berlin until my retirement. The Protestant Church here graciously granted me one short study leave in 1981, which I spent together with my annual vacation in Jerusalem. There I not only learned more Hebrew at the Hebrew University and used every available opportunity to travel throughout the country, from Eilat to the Golan Heights, but also had fine discussions with people such as David Flusser. In the course of the last five decades I have written not only articles for scholarly journals and Festschriften, but also fifteen volumes, almost all of which have been published in various series edited by Jacob Neusner, who in an ecumenical spirit kindly accepted them from a Christian pastor. Dealing with both the Gospels and Paul, these studies always elucidate specific New Testament passages on the basis of Judaic, primarily haggadic sources. I wish the reader much interest in, and appreciation of, the many insights the contributors to this volume have provided in regard to the importance of haggadah in specific texts in early Judaism and the New Testament. May these studies encourage others to follow their fine example. Berlin, Germany, November 1, 2020

Roger David Aus

Table of Contents Roger David Aus Introduction ……………………………………………………………………. 1 Günter Stemberger Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature …………………………………………….... 7 Roger David Aus Historicity and Truth in Haggadic Texts …….………………………………. 27 Hermann Lichtenberger Haggadah in den Qumrantexten …………………………….................….…. 43 Gudrun Holtz Abraham als Archetyp der Gottesliebe: Die Opferung Isaaks in Philos biographischem Enkomium „Das Leben des Weisen“ (De Abrahamo 167–208a) ......................…............................................................................... 67 Anna Maria Schwemer Schriftauslegung und Haggadah in den Vitae Prophetarum ……............…… 95 Michael Avioz Aspects of Haggadah in Josephus ……………………………………..…… 129 Daniel R. Schwartz Josephus and Chronology According to Sabbatical and Jubilee Periods ….. 139 Alan Avery-Peck Rabbinic Stories in the Babylonian Talmud Rosh Hashanah ………..…..… 157 Tal Ilan The Syro-Phoenician Woman and the Jerusalem Talmud …………………. 175 Peter J. Tomson Jesus, Master of Aggadah. The Parable of the Four Kinds of Soil …….…... 183 Lieve M. Teugels Rabbinic Meshalim and the Parables of Jesus. The Pattern of the Master and the Appointed Overseer …………………………………….………..… 201

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Bruce D. Chilton The Last Earthquake: Zechariah, Matthew, Peter, and the Force of Haggadah ……………….……………..……..…………………………….. 229 Roger David Aus Luke 1:78–79; the Sprout as the Messiah; the Dawn / Morning Star; and the Gradual Beginning of Redemption in Judaic Tradition on Esther, the “Hind of the Dawn” ………………..……………………….…. 251 Harold W. Attridge Scripture and Haggadah in the Fourth Gospel. Haggadic Strategy in John 10:34–36………………………………………………………………. 289 Arie W. Zwiep Haggadic Motifs in the Acts of the Apostles: A Search for Traces of the Tradition of the Elders in Acts 1–3 ……………….……………………. 307 Christian Grappe Traces de motifs haggadiques dans le récit de libération merveilleuse de prison de Pierre en Actes 12 ………………………………………..…… 335 Gerbern S. Oegema Haggadah in Gal 3:6–14 and Rom 4:1–16 ………………..….……………. 359 Klaus Haacker Freispruch für den Frevler. Ps 32,1–2 in Rӧm 4,5–8 und in jüdischen Rezeptionen ……...............................................................……… 375 Alan C. Mitchell What Is Haggadic About Hebrews? ............................................................... 393 Authors ………………………………………………………..…………… 409 Index of Major Ancient Sources ………………………..………………….. 411 Index of Modern Authors …………………………………………….…….. 423 Subject Index ……………………………………………………………… 430

Abbreviations In order to be consistent, the abbreviations for journals and series in all the contributions in this volume, whether in English, German, or French, are cited according to The SBL Handbook of Style, Second Edition (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2014). The abbreviations in German and French for biblical books and writings such as the pseudepigrapha are those presently customary in biblical scholarship in those languages. However, the following abbreviations, primarily of rabbinic works, are not spelled out with bibliographical information in The SBL Handbook of Style. Since they occur frequently in this collection of essays, this is given here. An example would be: Finkelstein 297; Eng. Hammer 272. This list proceeds from the earliest, Tannaitic sources, to the later Amoraic ones. Albeck, Shisha Sidre Mishnah, ed. Chanoch Albeck (Jerusalem and Tel Aviv: Bialik Institute and Dvir, 1975), 6 vols. Danby, The Mishnah, trans. Herbert Danby (London: Oxford University Press, 1933 / 1964). Zuckermandel, Tosephta, ed. Moshe Zuckermandel, with a supplement by Saul Liebermann (Jerusalem: Wahrmann Books, 1970). Lieberman, The Tosefta, ed. Saul Lieberman (sic) (New York: The Jewish Theological Society of America, 1955–1992), 10 vols. Neusner, The Tosefta, trans. Jacob Neusner et al. (Hoboken, NJ: KTAV Publishing House, 1977–1986), 6 vols. Soncino, The Babylonian Talmud, ed. Isidore Epstein, various translators (London: Soncino, 1952), 18 vols. and index. Krotoshin, Talmud Yerushalmi, Krotoshin edition (Jerusalem: Shiloh, 1969). Neusner, The Talmud of the Land of Israel, trans. Jacob Neusner et al. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982–1995), 34 vols. Lauterbach, Mekilta de-Rabbi Ishmael, ed. and trans. Jacob Lauterbach (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1976), 3 vols. Horovitz, Siphre ad Numeros adjecto Siphre zutta, ed. Haim Horovitz (Jerusalem: Wahrmann Books, 1976). Neusner, Sifre to Numbers, trans. Jacob Neusner (BJS 118–119; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986), 2 vols. Finkelstein, Sifre on Deuteronomy, ed. Louis Finkelstein (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1969). Hammer, Sifre. A Tannaitic Commentary on the Book of Deuteronomy, trans. Reuven Hammer (YJS 24; New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986). Midrash Rabbah, with the five Megilloth at the end of vol. 2 (Vilna: Romm, 1887), 2 vols. Mirkin, Midrash Rabbah, Pentateuch, ed. and vocalized by Moshe Mirkin (Tel Aviv: Yavneh, 1981), 11 vols. Soncino, Midrash Rabbah, ed. H. Freedman and Maurice Simon, various translators (London: Soncino, 1939), 9 vols. and index. Theodor and Albeck, Midrash Bereshit Rabba, ed. Judah Theodor and Chanoch Albeck (Jerusalem: Wahrmann Books, 1965), 3 vols.

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Abbreviations

Dunski, Midrash Rabbah. Shir ha-Shirim, ed. Shim‘on Dunski (Jerusalem: Dvir, 1980). Midrash Tanhuma, Eshkol edition (Jerusalem: Eshkol, no date), 2 vols. Berman, Midrash Tanhuma-Yelammedenu. Genesis and Exodus, trans. Samuel Berman (Hoboken, NJ: KTAV Publishing House, 1996). Buber, Midrasch Tanhuma: Ein agadischer Commentar zum Pentateuch, ed. Salomon Buber (Vilna: Romm, 1885), 2 vols. Townsend, Midrash Tanhuma (S. Buber Recension), 3 vols., Genesis-Deuteronomy (Hoboken, NJ: KTAV Publishing House, 1989–2003). Becker, Avot de Rabbi Nathan. Synoptische Edition beider Versionen, ed. Hans–Jürgen Becker with Christoph Berner (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006). Schechter, Aboth de Rabbi Nathan (A and B), ed. Solomon Schechter (Vienna,1887; reprinted New York: Feldheim, 1945). Goldin, The Fathers According to Rabbi Nathan (A), trans. Judah Goldin (YJS 10; New Haven: Yale University Press, 1955). Saldarini, The Fathers According to Rabbi Nathan (B), trans. Anthony Saldarini (SJLA 11; Leiden: Brill, 1975). Friedmann, Pesikta Rabbati, ed. Meir Friedmann (Vienna, 1880; reprint Tel Aviv, 1962– 1963). Braude, Pesikta Rabbati, trans. William Braude (YJS 18; New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968), 2 vols. Mandelbaum, Pesikta de Rav Kahana, ed. Bernard Mandelbaum (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1962), 2 vols. Braude and Kapstein, Pesikta de-Rab Kahana, trans. William Braude and Israel Kapstein (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1975). Friedmann, Seder Eliahu rabba und Seder Eliahu zuta, ed. Meir Friedmann (Vienna, 1902– 1904; reprint Jerusalem, 1969). Braude and Kapstein, Tanna debe Eliyyahu, trans. William Braude and Israel Kapstein (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1981). Buber, Midrasch Tehillim, ed. Salomon Buber (Vilna: Romm, 1891). Braude, The Midrash on Psalms, trans. William Braude (YJS 13,1–2; New Haven: Yale University Press, 1959), 2 vols. Visotzky, Midrash Mishle, ed. Burton Visotzky (New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1990). –, The Midrash on Proverbs, trans. Burton Visotzky (YJS 27; New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992). Eshkol, Pirqe Rabbi Eliezer, Eshkol edition (Jerusalem: Eshkol, 1973). Friedlander, Pirke de Rabbi Eliezer, trans. Gerald Friedlander (London, 1916; reprint New York: Hermon Press, 1970). Guggenheimer, Seder Olam. The Rabbinic View of Biblical Chronology, ed. and trans. Heinrich Guggenheimer (Northvale, NJ, and Jerusalem: Jason Aronson, 1998). Sperber, The Bible in Aramaic, ed. Alexander Sperber (Leiden: Brill, 1959), 4 vols. Grossfeld, The Targum Onqelos to Genesis, trans. Bernard Grossfeld (The Aramaic Bible 6; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1988). Clarke, Targum Pseudo-Jonathan of the Pentateuch: Text and Concordance, ed. Ernest Clarke (Hoboken, NJ: Ktav Publishing House, 1984). Maher, Targum Pseudo-Jonathan: Genesis, trans. Michael Maher (The Aramaic Bible 1B; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1992). Díez Macho, Neophyti 1, ed. Alejandro Díez Macho (Madrid – Barcelona: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Cientificas, 1968–1978), 5 vols. McNamara, Targum Neofiti 1: Genesis, trans. Martin McNamara (The Aramaic Bible 1A; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1992).

Abbreviations

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Klein, The Fragment Targums of the Pentateuch, ed. and trans. Michael Klein (AnBib 76; Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1980), 2 vols. Harrington and Saldarini, Targum Jonathan of the Former Prophets, trans. Daniel Harrington and Anthony Saldarini (The Aramaic Bible 10; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1987). Stenning, The Targum of Isaiah, ed. and trans. John F. Stenning (Oxford: Clarendon, 1949). Chilton, The Isaiah Targum, trans. Bruce Chilton (The Aramaic Bible 11; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1987). Hayward, The Targum of Jeremiah, trans. Robert Hayward (The Aramaic Bible 12; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1987). Levey, The Targum of Ezekiel, trans. Samuel Levey (The Aramaic Bible 13; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1987). Cathcart and Gordon, The Targum of the Minor Prophets, trans. Kevin Cathcart and Robert Gordon (The Aramaic Bible 14; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1989). Merino, Targum de Salmos, ed. with a Latin translation by Luis Díez Merino (Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigationes Cientificas, 1982). Stec, The Targum of Psalms, trans. David Stec (The Aramaic Bible 16; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2004). Grossfeld, The First Targum of Esther, ed. and trans. Bernard Grossfeld (New York: SepherHermon Press, 1983). –, The Two Targums of Esther, trans. Bernard Grossfeld (The Aramaic Bible 18; Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1991). Mangan, The Targum of Job, trans. Céline Mangan (The Aramaic Bible 15; Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1991). de Lagarde, Hagioprapha Chaldaice, ed. Paul de Lagarde (Leipzig: Teubner, 1873; reprint Osnabrück: Zeller, 1967). Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews, by Louis Ginzberg (Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1913 / 1968), 6 vols. and index. Hebrew New Testament, by Franz Delitzsch (Berlin: Trowitzsch and Son, 1885). Hebrew New Testament (Jerusalem: The United Bible Societies, 1976). Jastrow, Dictionary of the Targumim, the Talmud Babli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature, by Marcus Jastrow (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2005; original 1903).

Introduction Roger David Aus My wife and I usually enjoy a glass of dry red wine in the evening. This reminds me of the wine mentioned in biblical and early Jewish sources, which was also almost always red. In the Song of Moses, for example, the author chides Israel for not acknowledging that the Lord provided for it in earlier, difficult times. Deut 32:14 states regarding this period: “you drank fine wine from the blood of grapes.” The Tannaitic interpreter of this verse in Sipre Deuteronomy aptly comments here: “these are haggadoth, which attract a man’s heart like wine.”1 Almost everyone in the area of biblical scholarship knows and can state what halakhah is: the legal interpretation of Scripture. Yet when pressed to define haggadah / aggadah, most students of the New Testament, for example, suddenly become quiet. This is in part due to a lack of solid exposure to early Judaism in their training, but also to the fact that the term is impossible to describe with only one expression. It is not simply everything which is not halakhah.2 Rather, it “includes narrative, legends, doctrines, admonitions to ethical conduct and good behavior, words of encouragement and comfort, and expressions of hope for future redemption.” It can consist of “parables and allegories, metaphors and terse maxims, lyrics, dirges, and prayers, biting satire and fierce polemic, idyllic tales and tense dramatic dialogues, hyperboles and plays on words, permutations of letters,” and other subjects.3 In contrast to the “law” of halakhah, it is often labeled “lore.”4 Haggadic interpretation of Scripture is very old. One could label it typical of haggadah, already in the Bible, when 1–2 Chronicles add details of names, places and times to what was thought to be lacking in 1–2 Samuel and 1–2

1 Cf. Sipre Haʼazinu 317 on Deut 32:14 (Finkelstein 359; Eng. Hammer 324). See also b. Yoma 75a (Eng. Soncino 362) regarding the gad (coriander) of Num 11:7 : “It was like haggadah, which attracts a man’s heart like water.” This comparison was especially true in the scorching summer sun of Palestine. 2 This is carefully pointed out in the first essay of this volume by Günter Stemberger. See also Louis Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews 1. IX: Haggadah is “a name that can be explained by a circumlocution, but cannot be translated.” 3 Cf. the art. “Aggadah or Haggadah” in EncJud (2007) 1.456. 4 Cf. Jacob Neusner, The Halakhah and the Aggadah. Theological Perspectives (Studies in Ancient Judaism; Lanham, MD, etc.: University Press of America, 2001) 28.

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Kings. The Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible, the Septuagint, in its earliest parts from the third century BCE, also betrays different readings or vocalizations of the Hebrew text, at times interpreting its meaning in a major new way. Haggadic comments on Genesis in the pseudepigraphical book of “Jubilees” were made already in the second century BCE,5 and the “Genesis Apocryphon” at Qumran also betrays such comment.6 The Palestinian work “Pseudo-Philo,” thought to be from “around the time of Jesus,” retells and expands in a major, haggadic way the biblical narrative from Adam to David.7 Essays on Philo and Josephus in this volume demonstrate the same tendency to retell and embellish the content of the Bible. It is thus puzzling why New Testament scholars do not employ the term “haggadah” when dealing with such elements in the Gospels, Paul, and elsewhere. Nor do they often recognize and appreciate them as such. One recent example is the voluminous Jesus Handbuch of 2017.8 It has a section devoted to Jesus’ interpretation of the Torah and halakhah,9 yet nothing specifically, for example, on the use of Judaic haggadic traditions which inform his miracles.10 The same applies to the Matthean and Lukan birth narratives, includ5 Cf. O. S. Wintermute in OTP 2.44 for 160–140 BCE. Chapters 1–46 deal with the Genesis narratives. George Nickelsburg in Jewish Literature between the Bible and the Mishnah (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 20052) 73 thinks of “the early 160s [BCE].” 6 Cf. 1QapGen ar in The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition, ed. Florentino García Martínez and Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar (Leiden, etc.: Brill; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2000) 1.28–49. On the relationship of this writing to 1 Enoch, see Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature 172–177. He considers it to have been composed “some time around the turn of the era” (177). 7 Cf. Daniel Harrington in OTP 2.299–300 and 297. See also the critical Latin text with an introduction by Harrington in Pseudo-Philon, Les Antiquités Bibliques (SC 229; Paris: du Cerf, 1976) 1–2. In contrast, Nickelsburg in Jewish Literature would date the work in the vicinity of the Jewish-Roman War of 66–70 CE (269). The Palestinian writing “The Lives of the Prophets” may date to “the first quarter of the first century A.D.” See D. R. Hare in OTP 2.381, and the contribution of Anna Maria Schwemer in this volume for somewhat later. 8 Ed. Jens Schrӧter and Christine Jacobi (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2017). 9 Cf. pp. 402–416 by Thomas Kagan. 10 Cf. pp. 322–326 by Bernd Kollmann, who, including bibliography, nowhere refers to the haggadic traditions behind the Gospel narratives he analyzes, although I have elucidated some of these extensively elsewhere. See for example Water into Wine and the Beheading of John the Baptist. Early Jewish-Christian Interpretation of Esther 1 in John 2:1–11 and Mark 6:17–29 (BJS 150; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988) 1–37; “Walking on the Sea. The Crossing of the Reed Sea in Exodus 14–15, and Jesus as the Second Moses and Messiah in Mark 6:45– 52, Matt 14:22–33, and John 6:16–21” in “Caught in the Act,” Walking on the Sea, and the Release of Barabbas Revisited (SFSHJ 157; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998) 53–133; The Stilling of the Storm. Studies in Early Palestinian Judaic Traditions (ISFCJ; Binghamton, NY: Global Publications, 2000) 1–87; Feeding the Five Thousand. Studies in the Judaic Background of Mark 6:30–44 par. and John 6:1–15 (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD, etc.: University Press of America, 2010); and “The Cursing of the Fig Tree in Mark 11:12–14, 20–21 and Judaic Tradition on Ps 1:3” in Essays in the Judaic Background of Mark 11:12–14, 20–

Introduction

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ing the “virgin birth” of Jesus and the story of the twelve-year-old Jesus in the Temple,11 as well as to the account of the empty tomb on Easter Sunday morning.12 As noted in the Preface, it was my privilege to study for a short time during my graduate work at Yale University with the professor of early Judaism, Judah Goldin, himself a student of Louis Ginzberg, author of the opus magnum The Legends of the Jews.13 When Goldin at one point described “Haggadic Interpretation,” he aptly spoke of “imaginative dramatization,”14 and Isaac Heinemann also spoke in this regard of “creative historiography” as a major type of haggadah.15 The narratives noted above are such Jewish Christian imaginative dramatizations, primarily intended to glorify him whom his adherents now considered to be the Messiah, the Son of God. In light of their own Jewish tradition, it was very understandable that early Jewish Christians retrospectively attributed to the historical Jesus miraculous capabilities.16 For them, he was more, for example, than Israel’s greatest miracle worker, Elisha (2 Kgs 4:42–44), more than the child prodigy Samuel in the Temple, and more than Israel’s first redeemer, Moses, whose birth and death, including his translation to heaven and his grave site’s never being 21; 15:23; Luke 1:37; John 19:28–30; and Acts 11:28 (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD, etc.: University Press of America, 2015) 1–40. 11 Cf. pp. 214–219 by Stephen Hultgren in the Jesus Handbuch. On these, see Matthew 1– 2 and the Virginal Conception in Light of Palestinian and Hellenistic Judaic Traditions on the Birth of Israel’s First Redeemer, Moses (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD, etc.: University Press of America, 2004); “Luke 1:37 in Light of Gen 18:14 and Judaic Traditions on the Wondrous Conception of Isaac by the Rejuvenated Virgin Sarah” in Essays in the Judaic Background 67–116; and “The Child Jesus in the Temple (Luke 2:41–51a), and Judaic Traditions on the Child Samuel in the Temple (1 Samuel 1–3)” in Samuel, Saul and Jesus. Three Early Palestinian Jewish Christian Gospel Haggadoth (SFSHJ 105; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994) 1–64. 12 Cf. pp. 495–497 by Christine Jacobi in the Jesus Handbuch, including interpretation of it as an early Christian “legend.” A concrete haggadic background to the narrative is offered in The Death, Burial, and Resurrection of Jesus, and the Death, Burial, and Translation of Moses in Judaic Tradition (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD, etc.: University Press of America, 2008). 13 Goldin is well-known, for example, for his The Fathers According to Rabbi Nathan (Yale Judaica Series 10; New Haven / London: Yale University Press, 1955). Interestingly, Ginzberg wrote his 1898 Heidelberg dissertation on Jewish haggadah in the Church Fathers, later marrying a woman from Berlin. He taught at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America in New York from 1903 until his death in1953. See his encyclopedic The Legends of the Jews, 6 volumes with vol. 7, Index. 14 Cf. his The Song at the Sea (Philadelphia / New York: The Jewish Publication Society, 1971 / 1990) 27. 15 Cf. the art. “Aggadah or Haggadah” in EncJud (2007) 1.462. 16 This does not apply to his healings and exorcisms, which have a greater chance of having an historical core.

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found, were greatly embellished in Judaic tradition. This was considered by them as Jews to be a legitimate expression of their belief. The above tendency to embellish is also true, for example, for later Christian interpretation of the “wise men from the East” who came to pay homage to “the newborn king of the Jews” in Matt 2:1–12. In the course of time they became three on the basis of three gifts in the text (v. 11), although no number is given for the wise men. They now were also considered kings because of the costly gifts they brought, and they received concrete names: Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar. One is now usually portrayed as a Black, which is also not in the text. “Creative dramatization” has thus been at work here throughout the centuries. It continues even today in Christmas pageants and in new collections of Christmas stories, which sell especially well in the Advent season. If present-day Christians are capable of accepting and appreciating such much later embellishment of the Matthean birth narrative,17 they could also now learn to appreciate other haggadic elements in the Gospel narratives of the adult Jesus. There is in principle no difference, and New Testament pastors and scholars, properly trained in the nature of haggadah already at the seminary or divinity school level, could show lay persons how to gain such an appreciation. In addition, the questions of historicity and truth in haggadic narratives,18 a thorny issue for fundamentalists and some very conservative Evangelicals, would no longer be a major issue because the haggadic nature of narratives would then be recognized and acknowledged for what it is: not threatening for one’s faith. Haggadic elements were employed in early Judaism not only in the Aramaic translation (targum) of the Hebrew text read aloud in a worship service in order to make its present-day meaning better understood by the listeners. They also were used in sermons / homilies there, as well as in the study house (beth ha-midrash). The purpose was clear, as shown in the Tannaitic Sipre ‘Eqeb 49 on Deut 11:22, “cleaving to Him” : “Expounders of haggadoth say: If you wish to know Him who spoke and the world came into being, study haggadah, for thereby you will come to know Him who spoke and the world came into being and cleave to His ways.”19 The study of haggadah can thus also lead to a better understanding of God’s dealing with man, and to man’s proper response to it. Finally, this volume of nineteen essays on various aspects of Judaic and early Jewish Christian haggadah can encourage pastors and prospective New 17

Often it is even combined with the very different narrative of Luke 2:1–20. Many examples of the further development of a New Testament figure are found in the “New Testament Apocrypha.” 18 See the essay “Historicity and Truth in Haggadic Texts” in this volume. 19 Cf. Finkelstein 115; Eng. Hammer 106, who omits one phrase.

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Testament scholars during their professional training (and even later) not only to master Greek, but also to study Hebrew, including rabbinic Hebrew, as well as Aramaic, which is especially relevant for the targums. By so doing they will have much easier access to the great riches found in Judaic haggadic sources, will appreciate these riches, and will learn to better understand how the New Testament writers employed such materials. With such training, they will greatly improve their abilities as theologians to interpret the biblical message for today, and they will also be much better equipped to participate in meaningful Jewish-Christian dialogue.20

20 On the Jewish side it may be noted that a German Jew who emigrated to Palestine in 1935 and thus escaped the Holocaust, Schalom Ben Chorin (b. 1913 as Fritz Rosenthal, d. 1999) wrote, for example, a trilogy on Jesus, Mary and Paul, including there many insights from the haggadah. He also graciously participated actively in “Kirchentage” and other ecumenical meetings in Germany. Over coffee and cake in his Jerusalem apartment, after a very long discussion of the relevance of haggadah to the Gospels, he once kindly called me a ba‘al aggadah.

Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature Günter Stemberger It is notoriously difficult, if not impossible, to define the rabbinic term Haggadah or Aggadah, in its alternative spelling influenced by Aramaic, or its Aramaic equivalent Aggadah or Aggadeta, translated by Marcus Jastrow as “tale, story, lesson, esp. Agadah, that class of Rabb. literature which explains the Bible homiletically,”1 or similarly by Michael Sokoloff “homiletical interpretation”2 or “homiletic story.”3 The word is derived from the Hebrew lehaggid (hiph’il of nagad), to tell, to narrate. It has become common to define the term in a negative way, contrasting it with halakhah. In its more special meaning, Haggadah is the text of the Passover Seder, the recitation of the story of Israel’s redemption from Egypt.

I. “Haggadah” in Tannaitic Literature4 The term occurs only once in the Mishnah. If somebody is prohibited by vow from deriving benefit from his friend, the friend nevertheless “teaches him midrash, halakhot and aggadot. But he does not teach him Scripture (‫ לא ילמדינו מקרא‬.‫( ”)ומלמדו מדרש הלכות ואגדות‬m. Ned. 4:3). As the Palestinian Talmud explains this passage, for teaching Scripture one may receive pay, but not so for teaching midrash, halakhot and aggadot. Therefore being taught these subjects does not imply any benefit. The sequence ‫ מדרש הלכות ואגדות‬is thus opposed to Scripture, although not independent from it, as the term mid-

1 Marcus Jastrow, A Dictionary of the Targumim, the Talmud Babli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature 11, or s.v. Haggadah, “homiletics, popular lecture” (330). 2 Michael Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish Palestinian Aramaic of the Byzantine Period (Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan University Press, 20022) 34. 3 Michael Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Jewish Babylonian Aramaic of the Talmudic and Geonic Periods (Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan University Press, 2002) 78. 4 Rabbinic texts are quoted according to the manuscript versions available in the Ma’agarim of the Historical Dictionary Project of the Academy of the Hebrew Language. Biblical texts are quoted according to the New Revised Standard Version, unless the rabbinic context requires a more literal rendering. Where for rabbinic texts I use an existing translation, I quote their authors, but frequently the context requires a more literal rendering.

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rash makes clear. As Paul D. Mandel understands this passage, “the singular [midrash] is used as a collective noun to indicate a collection of transmitted teachings, as distinguished from the collections indicated by the words halakhot, and haggadot; together, these comprise the major corpora of the transmitted collections of the ‘Oral Law.’”5 The contrast with Scripture makes it clear that midrash is connected with it, biblical traditions, but different from the Bible it is “Oral Law.” Yet it is not quite clear if halakhot and aggadot are part of midrash, or rather independent of it. At any rate, aggadot are in the plural, not yet in the abstract or rather collective singular, aggadah. A similar sequence occurs in t. Ber. 2:12: Zabim and zabot, and menstruating women, and women after childbirth are permitted to read [aloud] (‫ )לקרות‬from the Torah, the Prophets and the Writings, and to study (‫ )לשנות‬Mishnah, midrash, halakhot and aggadot (‫מותרין לקרות בתורה בנביאים ובכתובים ולשנות במשנה במדרש‬ ‫)בהלכות ובאגדות‬, but those who have had a seminal discharge are forbidden [to engage] in all [of the aforementioned activities]. R. Yosé says, “But one may study routine halakhot (‫ )בהלכות הרגילות‬as long as he does not cite the Mishnah” (transl. Jacob Neusner).

This passage allows people affected with certain forms of impurity to read the Bible and to study Mishnah, midrash, halakhot and aggadot, thus viewing aggadot as belonging to the Oral Torah (‫)לשנות‬6 and associating them in some way with the Bible, last in the continuum beginning with the Torah. They are the object of a kind of religious learning, accessible even to women, who normally would not be mentioned in such a context and are excluded in later formulations of this tradition. This religious learning is not affected by minor forms of impurity, but is not allowed to people having suffered a seminal discharge.7 (This, however, is not the place to discuss the reasons behind this differentiation between forms of impurity.) Aggadot are associated with Bible, Mishnah and midrash; they belong to the religious sphere and participate to some extent in its holiness. This passage is cited in y. Ber. 3:4, 22a (cf. y. Šabb. 1:4, 3d), where R. Abba bar Aḥa in the name of Rabbi allows a person with seminal discharge more generally to learn halakhot, but not to learn

5 Paul D. Mandel, The Origins of Midrash. From Teaching to Text (JSJS 180; Leiden: Brill, 2017) 265. He argues that up to the second century CE the term “midrash” means instruction in the law; only later does it become more and more the interpretation of a text, as we see it in m. Nedarim: “Only when combined with the two categories, halakhot and aggadot, is the word midrash used as a collective singular noun” (265, n. 109). 6 Louis Finkelstein, “Midrash, Halakhot, and Aggadot” (Hebrew), in Salo W. Baron et al. (eds.), Yitzhak F. Baer Jubilee Volume (Jerusalem: Israel Historical Society, 1960) 28– 47, derives from the common verb ‫לשנות‬, which also includes the study of midrash, halakhot and aggadot, that the term mishnah here includes them all (28–29); aggadah is part of the study of halakhah and its culmination (31). 7 Y. Moʿed Qaṭ. 3:5, 82d forbids, among other things, these same activities of religious learning to mourners.

Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature

9

haggadot (‫)ואינו שונה הגדות‬. Does this imply that aggadot have a higher degree of holiness, or simply that learning halakhot is so essential that even higher forms of impurity cannot keep a person from it? We cannot know. T. Soṭah 7:21 offers several interpretations of Prov 24:27: “Prepare your work outside, get everything ready for you in the field; and after that build your house,” referring the three parts of the verse to several possibilities of three parts of study, as e.g. Scripture, Mishnah and midrash. One sequence has midrash, laws and aggadot, another starts with halakhot, to be followed by aggadot, and finally by talmud. If we do not consider the different sequences as haphazard and inconsequential, one interpretation considers midrash as the basis of all learning, with aggadot as its final consummation (“after that build your house”), whereas the other takes halakhot and aggadot as the two preliminary steps to the study of talmud, the comprehensive mastering of religious learning. In the next and last interpretation talmud is followed by a good deed (‫)מעשה הטוב‬, which leads to interpretation and reward (‫)בא דרוש וטול שכר‬. As frequently in such sequences of “another matter” (‫)דבר אחר‬, they are not to be read as alternatives, but rather as panels of a polyptychon, to be seen together. All study should finally lead to good deeds and their reward. But where in the course of study the aggadot are placed is significant. They are always based on midrash, together with the halakhot, and (as in so many other texts) they always follow the halakhot. In one case they may be regarded as secondary to the halakhot, in the other as their final consummation. Here we may also quote the anecdote of the Roman soldiers who are sent to Rabban Gamaliel, feigning to be proselytes, to learn the whole Jewish religious tradition and to know its value (‫)וראו תורתם של ישראל מה טיבה‬. There “they read Scripture and learnt (orally) Mishnah, midrash, halakhot and aggadot” (‫וקראו את המקרא ושנו את המשנה מדרש הלכות והגדות‬: Sipre Deut. 344; the parallel y. B. Qam. 4:3, 4b adds talmud after Mishnah). Here too the full spectrum reaches from Scripture to aggadot as part of midrash; they all belong together. In the context of the trial of property cases before the Sanhedrin, m. Sanh. 4 and its parallel, t. Sanh. 7, discuss the right order of arguments. “[If there is]… a law and an exegesis (‫ ‒ )הלכה ומדרש‬they attend to the law, an exegesis and a tale (‫ ‒ )מדרש ואגדה‬they attend to the exegesis; an exegesis and an argument a fortiori ‒ they attend to the argument a fortiori; an argument a fortiori and an analogy ‒ they attend to the argument a fortiori” (t. Sanh. 7:7). It is not quite clear how much these arguments still pertain to a trial and not to the determination of the halakhah. What is clear, however, is the opposition of midrash to halakhah and to aggadah; they are not both regarded as part of midrash. Aggadah is here the weakest argument. If it is simply a “tale,” as translated by Neusner, is thus not quite clear. Much closer is the connection with the explanation of Scripture, midrash, in the two remaining occurrences

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of aggadah in the Tosefta. In t. Soṭah 7:9 two rabbis visit R. Joshua in Peqiin. He wants to know what R. Eleazar ben Azariah taught in the school-house (‫)בבית המדרש‬: “Whence was the aggadah? (‫‘ )היכן היתה הגדה‬Assemble the people – men, women, and children’ (Deut 31:12). He said to them, ‘What did he explain in this connection’ (‫ ”?)מה דרש בה‬This is the reading of MS Vienna; MS Erfurt reads: “What did he explain” (‫ ?)ובמה דרש‬Both versions continue that R. Eleazar expounded Deut 31:12. Aggadah and derash here are clearly equivalent to the interpretation of a biblical text, explaining the need to include women and children in the commandment to assemble the people every seventh year for a public reading of the Torah. In t. ʿEd. 1:14 R. Aqiva is said to interpret five matters in form of aggadah (‫)דורש כמין אגדה‬: “In five aspects does the father endow the son.” The discussion with the rabbis on this matter involves the meaning of “generation” in several biblical texts (Isa 41:4; Gen 15:16, etc.). The text does not go into details of the interpretation; but it is clearly not the literal meaning of the texts.8 The occurrences of the term haggadah in the halakhic midrashim confirm what we found in Mishnah and Tosefta. In Sipre Deut. 306 (ed. Finkelstein 339), one of several interpretations of Deut 32:2 reads: Another interpretation: My doctrine shall drop as the rain: Just as rain falls on trees and infuses them with the particular flavor (of their fruit) – the grapevine according to its flavor, the olive tree according to its flavor, the fig tree according to its flavor – so also words of Torah are all the same (‫)דברי תורה כולן אחת‬, yet they comprise Scripture, Mishnah, Midrash, Halakhot, and Haggadot (‫( )מקרא ומשנה ומדרש והלכות והגדות‬transl. Hammer, slightly adapted).

It may astonish one that this passage considers halakhot and aggadot in the same way as words of Torah, as Scripture itself: “they are all the same,” at least as God’s doctrine, which may be accessible to man in different ways. Not everybody may directly understand the word of the Torah, yet the outcome of its interpretation in halakhot and aggadot. All depends on the person who receives the doctrine. The midrash warns the student that he should not be content to master difficult scriptural lessons and to neglect the easy ones: “This is no trifling matter for you, but rather your very life” (Deut 32:47). “Something which you say is worthless is your very life.” Therefore one must study everything, “Midrash, halakhot, and aggadot” (‫)למוד מדרש הלכות והגדות‬. And similarly, “one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” (Deut 8:3), refers to halakhot and aggadot (‫( )אילו הלכות והגדות‬Sipre Deut. 48). Commenting on Deut 32:2, Sipre Deut. 306 states: “Just as rain cannot be anticipated in advance…, so is a disciple of the wise – you do not know what his character is

8

The parallel m. ʿEd. 2:9 does not refer to haggadah.

Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature

11

until he teaches Mishnah, halakhot and aggadot, or until he is appointed administrator over the community.” Time and again the rabbis insist on the basic unity of the Torah, including not only the basic text of Scripture, but also everything deriving from it including the aggadot, which a serious scholar might tend to neglect because they are attractive even to unlearned people.9 This is underlined in many statements, as for example in a commentary on Exod 15:26 (“If you will listen carefully to the voice of the Lord your God, and do what is right in His sight, and give heed to His commandments and keep all His statutes”), where, as so frequently, the different parts of the verse are referred to different aspects of Torah learning. “ʻWhat is right in His sight’: these are the praiseworthy aggadot that are listened to by everybody” (‫ הגדות משובחות הנשמעות בעיני כל אדם‬: Mekilta de-R. Yishmael Wayassa 1). The manna is compared to “a word of aggadah that attracts a man’s heart” (‫ שהוא מושך לבו של אדם‬.‫ לדבר הגדה‬: Mekilta Wayassa 5; cf. Mekilta de-R. Shim‘on b. Yoḥai Exod 16:31); “you drank fine wine from the blood of grapes” (Deut 32:14) is referred to “the aggadot that attract man’s heart like wine” (Sipre Deut. 317). That aggadah is considered accessible to people without a traditional religious education is also seen in the ordeal of the Soṭah, the woman suspected of adultery. The priest who administers the ordeal first tries to convince the woman to confess her transgression and thus to avoid the ordeal in which God’s name would be blotted out by the water: “He tells her matters of aggadah, matters that occurred in the early Scriptures (‫)דברי הגדה דברים שאירעו בכתובים הראשונים‬, as it is said: ‘what sages have told, and their ancestors have not hidden’ (Job 15:18).” As parallel texts on Job 15 make clear, these matters from the early Scriptures are sexual transgressions of the biblical forefathers which they confessed, as Judah with Tamar (Gen 38:26: “She is more righteous than I”), or Reuben with Bilhah (Gen 35:22; his confession is derived from 49:4) (Sipre Deut. 348; cf. t. Ber. 4:18; y. Soṭah 1:4, 16d; b. Soṭah 7b).10 “Matters of aggadah” are here, too, interpretations of Scripture – Job 15:18 offering the key especially to the

9

Yair Lorberbaum, “Reflections on the Halakhic Status of Aggadah,” Dînê Yiśraʾel 24 (2007) 29–64: “halakhah and aggadah are inseparably intertwined throughout talmudic literature” (29). 10 See Menahem I. Kahana, Sifre on Numbers: An Annotated Edition. Part II: A Commentary on Piskaʿot 1–58 (The Portion of Naso) (Hebrew; The Hebrew University Magnes Press: Jerusalem, 2011) 143; Wilhelm Bacher, “The Origin of the Word Haggada (Agada),” JQR 4 (1892) 406–429, here 411–413 (German: Wilhelm Bacher, Die Agada der Tannaiten. Erster Band. Von Hillel bis Akiba (Straßburg: Karl J. Trübner, 19032) 457–458.

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story of Reuben and Bilhah.11 Obviously, the priest would have to tell the woman the biblical examples more in detail; the summary in our text would not suffice to a person who does not already know the context. The high esteem in which the study of aggadah is held among the early rabbis can be seen in the following quotation: “The interpreters of aggadot (‫ )דורשי הגדות‬said: If you want to know Him who spoke and the world was, learn aggadah; for thereby you will know Him who spoke and the world was, and you will cling to His ways” (Sipre Deut. 49). Yet the rabbis also know that interpretation can be abused: “But whoever acts high-handedly (… reviles the Lord, ‫)מגדף את ייי‬.” This is one who lays open aspects of the Torah (‫)מגלה פנים בתורה‬, like Menasse, son of Hezekiah. “Reviles the Lord” (Num 15:30). He sits and expounds aggadah in a shameful way (‫ יושב ודורש בהגדה על דופי‬: Sipre Num. 112).12

As the passage continues, such a person reviles the Torah by pointing to passages which sound banal and without any religious information, like Gen 30:14 (“In the days of wheat harvest Reuben went and found mandrakes in the field”) or 36:22 (“The sons of Lotan were Hori and Heman”). * * * Let us sum up this brief survey of the use of the word aggadah in the Mishnah, Tosefta, and Halakhic Midrashim. The term always clearly refers to some interpretation of Scripture. It is never used in a more general meaning (as is often used in translations of these texts), as lore, story or narrative. Equally important is the fact that most frequently the term occurs in the plural, i.e. designating concrete interpretations and not as a generic singular, encompassing the totality of “Aggadah” (as opposed to halakhah), as is frequently found in traditional editions of these texts and also quite frequently in translation. Wherever we encounter the singular aggadah, it normally is a single interpretation, a “word / matter of aggadah.” Aggadah frequently is the last part of the tripartite sequence “midrash, halakhah and aggadah,” but never in opposition to halakhah; both are aspects of midrash, but not clearly separated from each other and rather overlapping. Even the much later Baraita of the 32 Middot, also called the Mishnah of R. Eliezer (600–800 CE), does not 11

The translations of ‫ דברי הגדה‬as “matters of ancient lore” (Jacob Neusner, The Components of the Rabbinic Documents. From the Whole to the Parts. XII. Sifre to Numbers Part One [Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998] 51), or as “Beispielsfälle” (Dagmar Börner-Klein, Sifre zu Numeri übersetzt und erklärt [Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1997] 31), are too imprecise as they do not let the biblical context be seen. 12 Kahana, Sifre on Numbers… Part IV (2015) 798, following Bacher, explains ‫ הגדה על דופי‬as a notarikon (the rabbinic way of interpreting a word by dividing it into its syllables) of ‫ גד( מגדף‬as part of ‫ הגדה‬and ‫)דופי‬.

Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature

13

yet know a clear distinction. Some texts read: “With 32 rules is the aggadah explained” (thus quoted inter alia by Rashi), but other texts have “is the Torah explained,” thus applying the rules to every interpretation of the Torah. Wilhelm Bacher already insisted after an analysis of the term maggid, from which he derives the word aggadah, “originally there was no formal distinction in the methods of Halachic and Agadic exposition, and it is a false view that would regard Halachic and Agadic Midrash as having been from the first divided into two different spheres.”13 We may also fully agree with Bacher regarding the essential connection of aggadah with Scripture: that signification which must especially be regarded in the definition of the term Agada, viz., the exposition and application of the Scriptures; there is no means whatsoever of connecting the supposed original signification of “narration, tale,” etc., with the main contents of all Agada, the interpretation of the Scripture… the term Agada, which always consisted of interpretations of Scripture, and in which the narrative element, an extension of the original Biblical narrative, was also based upon exegetical rules.14

II. “Aggadah” in the Yerushalmi and in Classical Midrashim In our next step we shall see whether there are additional aspects to the use of the term “Aggadah” in the classical Amoraic period (ca. 400–500 CE), if it changes, and if so, in what direction. Deut 9:10 reads: “And the Lord gave me the two stone tablets written with ֶ ֵ‫ )וַ ֲﬠל‬that the the finger of God; on them were all the words (‫יהם ְכּ ָכל ַה ְדּ ָב ִרים‬ Lord had spoken to you at the mountain out of the fire on the day of the assembly.” R. Joshua interprets all particles in the Hebrew wording – preposition, “and,” article, “like” – as not absolutely necessary for the meaning and therefore referring to more than the literal meaning of the verse: “Rabbi Joshua ben Levi said: On them (‫)עליהם‬, and on them (‫ ;)ועליהם‬words (‫)דברים‬, the words (‫ )הדברים‬all (‫)כל‬, like all (‫ ;)ככל‬Bible, Mishnah, talmud, and aggadah. Even what a competent student will discover before his teacher was said to Moses on Sinai” (y. Meg. 4:1, 74d).15 Thus he explicitly includes aggadah like all other forms of rabbinic learning together with Scripture as part of the revelation from Sinai; it is in some way on the same level and not an inferior part of rabbinic tradition. Even more explicit is the identification of aggadah with Scripture – perhaps only the Writings? – and its explanation in y. B.

13

Bacher, “The Origin” 419 (German 464). Ibid., 411 (German 456). Bacher sharply rejects the idea that the aggadah originally consisted of folk-tales to which later, first by Aqiva, midrash was added. 15 Parallels: y. Peʾah 2:6, 17a; y. Ḥag. 1:8, 76d; Lev. Rab. 22:1. 14

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Meṣ. 2:13, 8d (cf. y. Hor. 3:7, 48b): R. Ḥananiah says of R. Yoḥanan: “In aggadah I explained to him (everything) except Proverbs and Qohelet.” This all-encompassing idea of rabbinic learning is also expressed in the application of Isa 53:12 to R. Aqiva: “Rabbi Jonah said, it is written: ‘Therefore, I shall distribute to him in public, and with the powerful he shall have part in booty,’ – that is Rabbi Aqiva, who organized midrash, halakhot and aggadot” (‫)שהתקין מדרש הלכות והגדות‬. Here again halakhot and aggadot are aspects of biblical learning.16 Whereas we saw earlier (t. Ber. 12:2) that aggadah belongs to Mishnah, is learnt orally (‫)לשנות‬, we read in y. Ber. 5:1, 9a among other statements how one will not quickly forget his learning: “R. Yoḥanan said: “A covenant is sealed that he who studies aggadah from a book will not quickly forget” (‫)הלמד אגדה מתוך הספר לא במהרה הוא משכח‬. This is surprising not only because of earlier statements which include aggadah within the Oral Law, but also because other rabbis objected to using books of aggadah. R. Joshua ben Levi is quoted as saying: “An aggadah – one who writes it down has no share (in the world to come); he who interprets it, will be singed, and he who listens to it will not receive a reward” (‫)הדא אגדתא הכותבה אין לו חלק הדורשה מתחרך השומעה אינו מקבל שכר‬. The same rabbi then continues: “In my whole life I never looked into a book of aggadah (‫ ;)בספרא דאגדתא‬only once I looked and found” that the 175 sections of the Torah in which speech, saying, commandment are written, correspond to the 175 years of Abraham, the 147 psalms17 correspond to the years of Jacob, and the 123 times that Israel answers “Halleluja” correspond to the years of Aaron. Every statement is supported by biblical proof-texts. This book of aggadah thus contains interpretations of the Scriptures, demonstrating their overarching connections. The objection to their being written down is based on the idea of Oral Torah, which has to stay oral in order to remain the exclusive property of Israel, an idea which became important only as of the third century.18 In the context of a detailed discussion of how to determine “the corner of the field” to be left to the poor in a field sown with two kinds of wheat, a passage in y. Peʾah 2:6, 17a (parallel y. Ḥag. 1:8, 76d) deals with the rela-

16 This is the reading of all textual witnesses of the Yerushalmi. Only the Bavli, which for Sheqalim transmits the text of the Yerushalmi, reads ‫משנה ומדרש והלכות ואגדות‬ (MS Munich) or ‫( משנה מדרש והלכות‬ed. princ.) instead of ‫מדרש הלכות והגדות‬, because later tradition sees Aqiva as the great master of Mishnah, but it does not credit him with aggadah. 17 The number of psalms in rabbinic tradition. 18 Peter Schäfer, “Das ,Dogma‘ von der mündlichen Torah im rabbinischen Judentum,” in idem, Studien zur Geschichte und Theologie des rabbinischen Judentums (AGJU 15; Leiden: Brill, 1978) 153–197.

Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature

15

tionship of aggadot to the practical decisions of law: “R. Zeira in the name of Samuel: One does not derive any conclusions (‫)אין למידין‬, neither from halakhot nor from aggadot nor from additional traditions, but only from study” (‫)לא מן ההלכות ולא מן ההגדות ולא מן התוספות אלא מן התלמוד‬. If we correctly understand this passage, it does not accept any concrete halakhic decisions derived from other halakhic or aggadic traditions19 or from additional information, but only from a logical analysis (‫ )תלמוד‬of the case which is being discussed. Since in m. Peʾah 2:6 the halakhic decision is declared to be a halakhah le-Moshe mi-Sinai – an ancient halakhah the origin of which is forgotten, but which is thought to go back to Moses on Sinai –, the halakhot which are excluded here may also be such traditions going back to Moses on Sinai (cf. the preceding passage on the range of what was revealed to Moses on Sinai). In the same way as aggadot, scripturally-derived teachings, they are excluded from halakhic decision-making. Aggadot are thus considered together with halakhot, not contrasted with or opposed to them. Another passage, however, declares that a specialist in aggadah does not decide halakhic questions. R. Levi interprets Qoh 6:2, “those to whom God gives wealth, possessions, and honor, so that they lack nothing of all that they desire, but a stranger enjoys them.” He refers “wealth” to Scripture, “possessions” to halakhot, “honor” to supplementary teachings (tosafot), etc. “‘Yet God does not enable them to enjoy these things’: This is a master of aggadah who does not declare something prohibited nor declare it as permitted, who does not declare impure nor declare pure (‫)זה בעל אגדה שאינו לא אוסר ולא מתיר לא מטמא ולא מטהר‬. ‘But a stranger enjoys them’: This is a master of talmud” (y. Hor. 3:8, 48c: ‫)בעל התלמוד‬. Read in context, the “master of aggadah” also knows Scripture, halakhot and other collections of mishnayot, but dares not apply his knowledge in legal decisions or has no authority to do so, something reserved to the “master of talmud,” of correct and authoritative reasoning on the basis of his knowledge. The text does not say whether this is a matter of principle or only a concrete example in order to explain the full range of terms in Qoh 6:2. It distinguishes the “master of aggadah” from the “master of talmud” only in the sphere of decision-making, not that of halakhic competence. Only a few lines before this text, another passage evaluates these two persons quite differently. Explaining the verse “The rich is wise in his own eyes, but an intelligent poor person will find him out” (Prov 28:11), R. Samuel the son of R. Yose be-R. Bun refers the rich man who is wise in his eyes to the “master of talmud,” and the poor man who sees through the pose of the other 19 Berachyahu Lifshitz, “Aggadah Versus Haggadah: Towards a More Precise Understanding of the Distinction,” Diné Israel 24 (2007) 11–28: “It appears that the reference [halakhot] here is to Mishnayot, consistent with the Palestinian usage of this term” (11, n. 1).

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to the “master of aggadah” (‫)”ודל מבין יחקרנו“ זה בעל אגדה‬. This is illustrated by a parable of two people entering a city. One has gold bars but cannot spend them to buy his necessities; the other has small change and can readily spend it to survive. According to this interpretation the “master of talmud” is too far away from real life to make use of his superior knowledge, whereas the “master of aggadah” knows how to apply his knowledge in daily life. In reality he is superior to the “master of talmud.” Yet there are also severe criticisms of the teachers of aggadah. R. Zeira is said to have rebuked the masters of aggadah and to have called their books “books of sorcery” (‫מקנתר לאילין דאגדתא וצווח להון סיפרי קיסמי‬: y. Ma‘as. 3:10, 51a). Bar Kahana does not accept this criticism: “Why do you rebuke them? Ask and they will answer you!” He then asks them about the meaning of Ps 76:10, “Human wrath praises you, with the remainder of wrath you gird yourself.” They refer the first part to this world, the second part to the world to come. R. Zeira objects that it might be the other way around: “It is turned this way and that, and we learn nothing.” It is clear that the teachers of aggadah try to interpret biblical texts. What R. Zeira denounces as sorcery is what he understands as guesswork without strict hermeneutic rules which everybody can follow; thus one learns nothing. This is certainly a valid point of criticism, but it does not devalue the effort of the adherents of aggadah to make sense of difficult biblical texts even when it does not lead to binding results. Another haggadic interpretation is rejected in the discussion whether a woman might become pregnant simultaneously from two men. This is considered impossible, in contradiction to how rabbis who as adherents of aggadah (‫ )רבנן דאגדתא‬interpret 1 Sam 17:23, ‫ ממערות פלשתים‬... ‫איש הבנים עולה גלית‬, as meaning that Goliath’s mother Orpah became pregnant by sexual contact with a hundred Philistines (‫ מאה הערות‬: y. Yebam. 4:2, 5c).20 This entertaining solution to a difficult biblical text is rejected not because of its method, but simply because it does not fit the halakhic discussion. In this example aggadah belongs again to the interpretation of a biblical text. In a time of public fasts the prayer-leader should be an old man, knowledgeable (‫)רגיל‬, with house and children (m. Taʿan. 2:2). The Talmud expands: “And humble and kind to youth, experienced in wisdom, experienced in aggadah (‫)ורגיל בחכמה ורגיל באגדה‬,21 and he must have a house and a field” (y. Taʿan. 2:2, 65b). Aggadah is parallel to wisdom. For traditional under-

20

For details see Heinrich W. Guggenheimer, The Jerusalem Talmud. Third Order: Našim. Tractate Yebamot. Edition, Translation, and Commentary (SJ 29; Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 2004) 175, n. 66. 21 Guggenheimer translates: “used to study, used to preaching,” a rather common, but too narrow understanding of haggadah.

Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature

17

standing halakhah is lacking here, therefore “wisdom” is traditionally understood as equivalent to halakhah, thus a counterpart to haggadah. As we see, these passages in the Palestinian Talmud include aggadah in the revelation at Sinai; it is mainly biblical learning, including halakhot, although normally the master of aggadah will not deliver practical decisions in this field. There is a clear tendency to differentiate between fields of learning, although the distinction between aggadah and halakhah is not yet sharply drawn. The “master of talmud” may be at the top of rabbinic learning, but in practical life the “master of aggadah” still has his advantage. New is also the discussion whether aggadah may be written down and be learnt from books. Aggadah belongs to the Oral Torah. In Genesis Rabbah, which is roughly contemporary with the Palestinian Talmud, masters of the aggadah are considered specialists of the Bible. R. Yoshua ben Levi is said to have made the round of all the masters of the aggadah in the south (‫ )חיזרתי על כל בעלי אגדה שבדרום‬to learn the explanation of the verse (‫)שיאמרו לי הפסוק הזה‬: “When Israel set out on his journey with all that he had and came to Beersheba, he offered sacrifices to the God of his father Isaac” (Gen 46:1). Why does it not say: “the God of his father Abraham”? Nobody could tell him until he met R. Judah ben Pedayah, who told him: When a rabbi and his disciple are on the way, one first greets the disciple and only afterwards the rabbi who walks behind the disciple (Gen. Rab. 94:5). Although these haggadists were not able to answer this specific question, they apparently are the first address to turn to with a biblical problem. In Gen. Rab. 3:4, R. Shim‘on ben Yehotsadaq asks R. Samuel bar Naḥman: “Since I have heard that you are a master of aggadah (‫)בעל אגדה‬, from where was the light created? He said to him: It teaches that the Holy One, blessed be he, cloaked Himself in it as in a garment and let shine the splendor of His glory from one end of the world to the other. This he said to him in a whisper. He said to him: This is a plain verse of Scripture: ‘[You are] wrapped in light as with a garment’ (Ps 104:2). And you tell it to me in a whisper? Astonishing! He [Samuel] answered him: As I heard it in a whisper, thus I tell it to you in a whisper” (parallel Lev. Rab. 31:7). In Gen. Rab. 12:10 the same R. Samuel bar Naḥman is addressed as a master of aggada with the question: “What is the meaning when it is written: ‘lift up a song to Him who rides upon the clouds – His name is the Lord’ (‫ ביה שמו‬: Ps 68:5). He answered him: There is no place which does not have an authority responsible [to redress] its injustice. The public prosecutor in the place is responsible [to redress] its injustice.22 The Augustus in the place is 22 For the translation of the phrase (‫אגריקוס‬, a mistake for ‫אגדיקוס‬, Lat. ecdicus, “public prosecutor”; ‫בייה‬, Greek βία, “force, injustice”), see Daniel Sperber, A Dictionary of Greek and Latin Legal Terms in Rabbinic Literature (Ramat Gan: Bar-Ilan University Press, 1984) 32,69.

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responsible [to redress] its injustice. Thus who is responsible [to redress] the injustice of the world? The Holy One, blessed is He, ‫ ביה‬is His name – βία, ‘force,’ is His name.” Another passage in Leviticus Rabbah again mentions R. Samuel bar Naḥman, the “master of aggadah.” R. Ammi asks: “Since I have heard that you are a master of aggadah (‫)בעל אגדה‬, what is the meaning when it is written: ‘Your righteousness (‫)צדקתך‬, O God, reaches the high heavens? [O God, who is like you]’? He answered him: Just as the lower creatures need charity (‫ )צדקה‬from each other, so the upper creatures need charity from each other” (Lev. Rab. 31:1; Lam. Rab. 1:41). In Lev. Rab. 16:4 we read of Ben Azzai who was sitting and expounding, and fire flared around him. When they told this to R. Aqiva, he came and asked him if he perhaps dealt with the inner chambers of the Merkavah. A Genizah fragment of this passage alone expands the words of R. Aqiva: “Since I have heard that you are a master of aggadah (‫)בשביל ששמעתי עליך שאת בעל אגדה‬, that you were sitting and expounding, and the fire was flaring around you: did you perhaps deal with the chambers of the Merkavah”? Whereas Gen. Rab. 94 on the surface is unproblematic, even while addressing the question how correctly to address God, the three passages that call R. Samuel bar Naḥman a “master of aggadah” all deal with the heavenly world – the light emanating from God’s garment, God riding on the clouds and redressing injustice, and God’s righteousness / charity offered to the upper creatures. The teaching on the provenance of the light is explicitly handed on “in a whisper,” as a secret teaching; Ben Azzai “as a master of aggadah” is surrounded by flames when dealing with the divine chariot. As Marc Hirshman has rightly pointed out, the “masters of aggadah” in Genesis Rabbah and Leviticus Rabbah all deal with secret or “mystical teachings… the essence of the Holy One, blessed be He, His creation and His conduct.”23 This is also the case in the remaining example, Gen. Rab. 81:2: The people of Simonia ask Rabbi for a man who would teach them Scripture and Mishnah and decide their law-suits; he nominates Levi bar Sisi. But when the people of the village enthrone Levi on a big platform, in his pride and excitement he forgets all his Torah. He cannot answer them two halakhic questions, so they try: “Perhaps he is a master of aggada (‫)בר אגדא הוא‬.” Thus they ask him the meaning of a biblical text, Dan 10:21: “But I am to tell you what is inscribed in the book of truth.” Here again he cannot answer. But the next day, when consulting with Rabbi, he knows everything. Regarding Daniel 10, before a 23 Menahem Hirshman, “What Is the Place of the Aggadic Midrashim and Who Are the ‘Masters of Aggadah’?” (Hebrew) in Meḥqere Talmud III. Talmudic Studies Dedicated to the Memory of Professor Ephraim E. Urbach, 2 vols., ed. by Yaakov Sussmann and David Rosenthal (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2005) 1.190–208, here 203–207, quote 205.

Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature

19

decree is issued, it is “inscribed,” afterwards it is “truth.” The question concerns God’s decisions, inscribed in the heavenly book. As the text then adds, “truth” (‫ )אמת‬is God’s seal; its three Hebrew letters sum up Isa 44:6: “I am the first and I am the last; besides Me there is no God.” The biblical question they ask the “master of aggadah” thus also deals with the inner being of God.24 R. Samuel bar Naḥman, who several times is called a “master of aggadah,” declares it to be an “aggadic tradition” (‫“ )מסורת אגדה היא‬that Esau will fall by the hand of the descendants of Rahel: ‘Surely the little ones of the flock shall drag them away’ (Jer 49:20). And why does he call them ‘the little ones of the flock’? Because they are the youngest of the tribes” (Gen. Rab. 73:7; cf. 75:5). Jeremiah 49 deals with the fall of Edom / Esau; “the youngest of the flock” are dragged away, whereas here they are the active player – a reading which grammatically is not at all impossible. Thus the “aggadic tradition” is this special reading of the biblical text; yet here again aggadah is bound up with the Bible.25 A similar conclusion from a combination of biblical verses as aggadah is attributed to R. Samuel bar Naḥman in Gen. Rab. 44:8: Three were allowed to ask God what he shall give them, Solomon, Ahaz, and the Messiah (based on “ask” in 1 Kgs 3:5; Isa 7:11; Ps 2:8). In the name of Samuel bar Naḥman they add: “We may bring two more from the aggadah – Abraham and Jacob. Abraham as it is said: ‘O Lord God, what will You give me’ (Gen 15:2). He would not have said: What will You give me? unless God had not said to him: Ask. Jacob said: ‘and of all that You give me I will surely give one-tenth to You’ (Gen 28:22). He would not have said: All that You give me, unless God had not said to him: Ask.” What he knows “from aggadah” is derived from a comparison with three verses where God explicitly invites somebody to ask, and in two of them promises to give something. If Abraham and Jacob say to God that He will give them something, one may derive that God had encouraged them beforehand to ask for a gift. The knowledge “from Aggadah” is derived from a close reading of several texts of Scripture.26 24 The parallel Tanḥuma Tsaw 5 does not mention the “master of aggadah” and has only the third question on Daniel 10, but with a slightly different explanation. 25 Another concrete biblical problem is solved with an aggadic tradition (‫ )מסורת אגדה היא‬in y. B. Bat. 6:4, 15c: In 1 Kgs 6:2 the house of the Lord is said to have been thirty cubits high, but in v. 20 twenty cubits. The aggadic tradition says that the space of the inner room was not counted. The passage also offers other solutions to the contradiction. Important is simply the fact that for such biblical problems one turns to aggadic traditions. For other examples of biblical interpretations called “aggadic tradition,” see Tanḥ. Noah 11; Tanḥ. Wayeḥi 14; Midr. Pss. 18:32, etc. 26 Equally derived from Scripture is an “Aggadah” in Lev. Rab. 18:2: “‘Dread and fearsome are they’ (Hab 1:7): This is Hiram, the king of Tyre. ‘Mortal, say to the prince of Tyre, Thus says the Lord God: Because your heart is proud and you have said, I am a god,’

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Some texts may leave the impression that the “master of aggadah” is not highly valued. “All the masters of aggadah” in the South are unable to answer a biblical question; Levi bar Sisi is addressed as “master of aggadah” only after he could not answer two halakhic questions, and even the biblical question he could not answer. Comparing Israel with a palm tree where nothing is without value, Gen. Rab. 41:1 enumerates masters of Scripture, of Mishnah, of talmud and of aggadah; aggadah, as usual, is last in the enumeration – but does this imply that it is the lowest in value as well? In y. Hor. 3:8, as we have seen, the “master of aggadah” is compared to a man with small coins who can buy in the city whatever he needs, whereas the “master of talmud” is like a man with gold which nobody can change. In practical life, the “master of aggadah” is apparently better off. But the mastery of aggadah, at least when not combined with other branches of knowledge, is not so highly valued. The only rabbi explicitly addressed as “master of aggadah,” Samuel bar Naḥman, always appears in a positive light.27 If Yona Fraenkel is right, this might be due to a historical development among Palestinian rabbis who in a later period accepted preaching in public and thus also valued “masters of aggadah” more highly than before.28 Several more passages in Gen. Rab. and Lev. Rab. mention aggadah as the last member of the chain “Scripture, Mishnah, Tosefta and aggadah” (Gen. Rab. 16:4, cf. Lev. Rab. 13:5) and the like or distribute them among the single parts of a biblical verse (Gen. Rab. 66:3, etc.). They all belong together as parts of the Torah. “R. Judan son of R. Samuel said: Even the words of the Torah that were compared to water and were given from above were given only by measure. And these are they: Scripture and Mishnah and talmud and aggadah. One merits Scripture, one merits Mishnah, one merits talmud, one merits aggadah, and there is one who merits them all” (Lev. Rab. 15:2). Scripture certainly is the basis, but how should we rank Mishnah, talmud, and aggadah? Since for at least some rabbis talmud ranks higher than Mishnah, would then aggadah be the apogee? Perhaps not, but at any rate it is an integral part of Torah learning and not a simple appendix for unlettered people.

etc. (Ezek 28:2); ‘Their justice and dignity proceed from themselves’ (Hab 1:7). This is Nebuchadnezzar. R. Simon said: It is an aggadah: Hiram was the husband of Nebuchadnezzar’s mother. He came over him and killed him. This is what is said: ‘So I brought out fire from within you; it consumed you’ (Ezek 28:18).” Here again it is an artful combination of diverse biblical texts from which a coherent story is derived, in this case that Nebuchadnezzar is killed by a member of his own family: this is aggadah. 27 An exception is Shim‘on bar Nehemiah, whom Shim‘on ben Yehotsadaq addresses as “master of aggadah” (Tanḥ. Wayaqhel 6). But this may be a mistake for Samuel bar Naḥman. 28 Yona Fraenkel, Darkhe ha-aggadah veha-midrash (Givatayim: Yad la-Talmud, 1991) 23–26.

Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature

21

III. Aggadah in the Babylonian Talmud Here we cannot deal with all passages of the Bavli mentioning aggadah in detail, but mention only the most important texts. Most common are sayings which, as already in earlier Palestinian literature, include aggadah as the last item in the comprehensive list of subjects in the field of Torah which ideally everybody should master. “How far is a person obliged to teach his son Torah? Rav Judah said Rav [other texts: Samuel] said: Like Zebulun the son of Dan whom his father’s father taught Scripture, Mishnah, talmud, halakhot and aggadot. They objected: If he taught him Scripture, he need not teach him Mishnah. And R. Abba said: Scripture is Torah” (b. Qidd. 30a). A discussion follows here because strictly speaking the grandfather is not obliged to teach his grandson, but only the father must teach his son (Deut 11:19). The father, however, should ideally teach his son the full spectrum of Torah, to which aggadah belongs. The perfect student is Yoḥanan ben Zakkai, “who never left off Scripture, Mishnah and midrash, talmud, halakhot and aggadot, the details of the scribes, arguments from the minor to the major, analogies, calendrical computations, gematriot, foxes’ and fullers’ fables, the conversation of palm trees, of spirits and of the ministering angels, matters large and small…” (b. Sukkah 28a; b. B. Bat. 134a). In this passage the fields of knowledge are expanded as never before and include much that later is considered part of the expanse of aggadah. However, our text does not speak yet of aggadah in the singular, but of halakhot and aggadot, individual aggadic traditions and not an all-encompassing general notion of aggadah. A similar but somewhat more restricted spectrum is expected of the prayer leader in a public fast. Besides being acceptable to the community and having a pleasant voice, “he should be used to reading Torah, Prophets and Writings, to repeating Mishnah, talmud, halakhot and aggadot, and be expert in all the blessings” (b. Taʿan. 16a). When four elders went to comfort R. Ishmael over the death of his sons, R. Tarfon admonished them not to interrupt one’s fellow, “for he is a great sage and an expert in aggadot” (‫ חכם גדול הוא ובקי בהגדות‬: b. Moʿed Qaṭ. 28b). Does “a great sage” include all traditional Torah learning? It is apparently for this situation of mourning that the emphasis on Ishmael’s expertise in aggadot is so emphasized. Already y. Moʿed Qaṭ. 3:5, 82d forbids the mourner “to read Torah, to repeat midrash, halakhot and aggadot.”29 Whereas

29

‫ ;מלקרות בתורה ומלשנות מדרש הלכות והגדות‬b. Moʿed Qaṭ. 21a: he is forbidden ‫לקרות בתורה בנביאים ובכתובים ולשנות במשנה ובמדרש בהלכות ובאגדות‬. All commandments for a mourner are also in force on the ninth of Ab, including the recitation of aggadot: b. Taʿan. 30a. Lepers, persons suffering from a flux or having had contact with a menstruant woman are allowed to read Torah, Prophets and Writings and to recite Mishnah, hala-

22

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the mourner himself is not allowed to deal with aggadot, his comforters may do so and in his case make every effort to compose an appropriate aggadah. All four rabbis quote a biblical scene of mourning, as e.g. the death of Nadab and Abihu (Lev 10:6), and state that the death of Ishmael’s sons is all the more so a cause for mourning. The aggadot they offer in the presence of R. Ishmael, this “expert in aggadot,” all compare biblical scenes with Ishmael’s mourning.30 The same concentration on biblical texts may be found in b. Nid. 69b: “Our rabbis have taught: Twelve matters did the Alexandrians ask R. Joshua b. Ḥananiah, three matters of wisdom and three matters of aggadah, three matters of nonsense and three matters of proper conduct” (‫)שלש' דברי חכמ' ושלש' דברי הגד' ושלש' דברי בורו' ושלש' דברי דרך ארץ‬. The matters of aggadah are (70b) three pairs of biblical verses which seem to contradict each other (Ezek 18:32 and 1 Sam 2:25; Deut 10:17 and Num 6:26; Ps 132:13 and Jer 32:31). All contradictions are resolved by referring the verses to different situations and times. This use of aggadah is the same as in Palestinian rabbinic literature. In the parallel to t. Soṭah 7:9 (already quoted) where R. Joshua asks what was taught in the school-house, we again find the term aggadah understood as interpretation of the biblical reading of the week: “About what was the aggadah today? About the reading ‘Assemble the people.’ And what did he explain in this connection?” (b. Ḥag. 3a: ‫ בפרשת הקהל ומה דרש בה‬.‫)ובמה היתה הגדה היום‬. Like earlier midrashim, the Bavli several times mentions “masters of aggadah.” According to R. Joshua ben Levi someone accustomed to do charity will merit “sons who are wise, wealthy and masters of aggadah” (b. B. Bat. 9b: ‫)בעלי חכמה בעלי עשר בעלי הגדה‬. All is supported by biblical texts, the masters of aggadah with Prov 3:35, “The wise will inherit honor.” The mastery of aggadah is frequently associated with honor. In b. B. Bat. 145b, at the beginning of a longer list of learning associated with different forms of riches, is the “master of aggadot,” “rich in property, rich in pomp” (‫)עתיר נכסי עתיר פומבי זהו בעל הגדות‬, followed by the master of dialectics (‫)פלפול‬, halakhic traditions, etc. The “master of aggadah” is always clearly set apart from the masters of Mishnah, Gemara, etc., without specifying what his own field is – this is taken for granted. Interpreting Isa 3:1, b. Ḥag. 14a offers another list of learning, applying “support and staff – all support of bread, and all support of water” to the masters of Scripture, of Mishnah, of

khot and haggadot, things forbidden to somebody having suffered a nocturnal seminal emission: b. Moʿed Qaṭ. 15a. 30 According to b. Moʿed Qaṭ. 23a one does not recite a halakhic decision or an aggadah (‫ )שמועה והגדה‬in the house of the mourner. Yet this may be only after the death of a patriarch, which is discussed immediately before, for it is added that R. Ḥananiah ben Gamaliel used to recite a halakhic decision and an aggadah.

Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature

23

talmud, and finally “the masters of aggadah who attract the heart of man like water” (‫ ;בעלי הגדה שמושכין לבו של אדם כמים‬b. Yoma 75a; b. Šabb. 87a). Several times a rabbi asks “one of the rabbis who is ordering aggadic traditions before him” (‫ )דהוה מסדר אגדתא קמיה‬a biblical question. In b. Ber. 10a a rabbi “used to order aggadah before R. Joshua ben Levi, who asked him: Why is it written: ‘Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name’ (Ps 103:1)”? He answers that God is not like a mortal man, who cannot put into a drawing spirit and soul; He draws a form within a form (‫ )צר צורה בתוך צורה‬and throws into it spirit and soul, as Hannah said: “There is no Holy One like the Lord, no one besides You; there is no Rock (‫ )צור‬like our God” (1 Sam 2:2), which has to be read: “There is no artist (‫ )צייר‬like our God.” The rabbi who “orders aggadah” knows how to show connections between verses of the Bible, artfully reading a word slightly differently than the normal vocalization, going beyond the literal understanding of the verse in order to show its deeper meaning. In another passage Ravina asks about the origin of the saying: “The memory of the righteous is a blessing.” When he quotes Prov 10:7, he insists: But where do we know it from the Torah? The answer is Gen 18:18: “Abraham shall become a great and mighty nation, and all the nations of the earth shall be blessed in him” (b. Yoma 38b). The first part of the question is too simple to be a test for the rabbi; the real question is the second part, the connection with another part of the Bible, as is typical for aggadic traditions. A more complicated test is to be found in b. Sukkah 53a. Rav Ḥisda asks the rabbi who was ordering aggadot before him if he had ever heard anything in correspondence to how David had composed the fifteen Songs of Ascents. He answered, quoting a saying of R. Yoḥanan, that when David dug under the altar, the water of the deep welled up and was going to flood the whole world. By composing the fifteen songs, David brought the water down again. But, objected R. Ḥisda, then the songs should have been called Songs of Descent! Now the student of aggadah remembers: David had magically brought down the water so far that it had completely disappeared. Now he wanted to bring the water back again to its normal level, which he accomplished by the fifteen Songs of Ascents. In this example two or more passages of the Bible are no longer connected by aggadic approaches; the title of a group of Psalms is explained by a rather far-fetched fanciful story about David’s preparation of the Temple. This text comes closest to later ideas of aggadah, free-standing stories with only the slightest biblical background. Only in the Babylonian Talmud do we find sayings that try to keep R. Aqiva far away from aggadah. The rabbis discuss Dan 7:9, a very controversial verse in early Judaism: “As I watched, thrones were set in place, and an Ancient One took his throne, his clothing was white as snow, and the hair of his head like pure wool; his throne was fiery flames, and its wheels were burning fire.” For whom were the two thrones? “One was for Him and one

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for David – words of R. Aqiva. Said to him R. Jose ha-Gelili: Aqiva, how long do you profane the Shekhinah? It was rather one for judgment and one for mercy. Did he accept this from him, or did he not accept it? Come and hear! It is taught: One for judgment and one for mercy – words of R. Aqiva. Said to him R. Eleazar ben Azariah: Aqiva, what have you to do with aggadah (‫ !?)מה לך אצל הגדה‬Stop your words and go to (the tractates of) Negaim and Ohalot (laws of purity)! One served rather as a throne, the other as a footstool, the throne to sit upon and the footstool as rest for His feet” (b. Ḥag. 14a; b. Sanh. 38b). In another passage R. Aqiva tries to interpret Exod 8:2: “The frog came up and covered the whole country of Egypt.” “Frog” is in the singular, but in the next verses in the plural. According to Aqiva the one frog multiplied and filled the whole country. It is an innocuous explanation of a linguistic detail of the biblical text. But R. Eleazar ben Azariah attacks Aqiva with the same words as before: “Aqiva, what have you to do (with aggadah)?! Limit yourself to (the tractates of) Negaim and Ohalot (laws of purity)!” (b. Sanh. 67b). In the second example we see no reason why R. Aqiva should be kept away from aggadah. It seems to be a matter of principle, whereas in the first example interpreting the two thrones of Dan 7:9 we enter a highly problematic and frequently studied text31 which concerns the center of Jewish monotheism. As in several texts regarding the “masters of aggadah” in Genesis and Leviticus Rabbah, the discussion concerns inner aspects of God which Hirshman understood as mystical ideas. In both examples we deal with the interpretation of non-legal biblical texts. Rabbinic tradition considers R. Aqiva beside R. Ishmael as the most outstanding interpreter of the biblical text; later tradition attributes to him one of the two schools of halakhic midrashim. It is all the more astonishing how these passages so strictly separate Aqiva from the aggadah. They certainly do not reflect the historical situation of Aqiva’s life-time, but are obviously a late development which considers halakhah and aggadah as two radically distinct disciplines of rabbinic studies, and which seeks to keep them in different compartments, something which even in the Babylonian Talmud is not maintained, since Scripture, Mishnah, halakhah and aggadah all belong to the curriculum of a rabbi (see also b. Sanh. 101a). But these texts point to a development which later on tends to push aggadah out of the center of rabbinic studies. While most passages of the Bavli which speak of aggadah still continue the earlier usage, offer traditions known from earlier rabbinic writings, and present non-legal interpretations of biblical texts, normally by showing their connections with other biblical passages, we thus see in some texts of the

31 See Peter Schäfer, The Jewish Jesus: How Judaism and Christianity Shaped Each Other (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2012) 68–85.

Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature

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Bavli how they move away from this earlier tradition, in the case of R. Aqiva separate aggadah from the normal curriculum of a serious rabbinic scholar, and loosen its contacts with biblical interpretation. Later midrashim do not offer real innovations; they take up earlier traditions and, in keeping with their general tendencies, emphasize the more popular aspects of aggadah, yet remain within the limits of tradition.

IV. Later Developments As we have seen, all texts of classical rabbinic literature which let us see the contents of aggadah keep it within the field of biblical interpretation. Even later Geonim like Sherira and Hai Gaon still “seem to equate aggadah with midrash.”32 The classical negative definition of aggadah which sees in it everything which is not halakhah does not fit the many rabbinic passages we have seen. In the Introduction to the Talmud, attributed to Shmuel haNagid,33 the lemma Haggadah is explained thus: “This is every interpretation that is found in the Talmud on every subject which is not a commandment. This is haggadah and there is nothing to learn from it except what corresponds to reason.” This definition and also the statement that “Whatever the Jewish people, including its sages, scribes, teachers, and preachers, thought or felt during a period of more than 1,000 years is reflected in the aggadah”34 go far beyond these rabbinic texts. The dichotomy of halakhah and aggadah is clearly a gaonic development, when the field of halakhah became more and more the only field of serious study (as we saw already in the case of R. Aqiva) and everything else became second-class entertainment:35 “This is a word of aggadah, and regarding this and all which is like it, our rabbis stated that one does not rely on words of aggadah” (‫)אין סומכין על דברי אגדה‬.36 A saying attributed to Rav Hai Gaon gives the reason for it: Know that aggadah is not rooted in tradition; rather, each person explicates according to his own inclinations [using formulations such as] ‘‘for example,’’ ‘‘it is possible,’’ and ‘‘one might say,’’ and not something definitive. Therefore we cannot rely upon them ...

32

Lifshitz, “Aggadah” 20. Printed in most editions of the Babylonian Talmud after tractate Berakhot. 34 Dvora E. Weisberg et al., “Aggadah or Haggadah” in EncJud (2007) 1.454–464, quote 459. 35 See Barry Scott Wimpfheimer, Narrating the Law: A Poetics of Talmudic Legal Stories (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011) 31–40. 36 Teshuvot ha-Geonim ḥadashot Emanuel 157, translated from the Ma’agarim of the Academy of the Hebrew Language. Lorberbaum, “Reflections” 33: “Apparently it was R. Saadya Gaon who coined the dictum that ‘one does not rely on aggadah.’” 33

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and these midrashot are neither matters of tradition nor of halakhah, but rather are recited as mere possibilities.37

This sceptical and sometimes even outright negative attitude towards aggadah is carried on in later Jewish literature. The best known statement in this regard is the reaction of Moshe ben Naḥman at the Disputation of Barcelona in 1263, when the Christian spokesman Frai Paul quoted the midrash that on the day of the destruction of the Temple the Messiah was born (Lam. Rab. 1:16) in order to prove that even according to rabbinic tradition the Messiah had already come: “I do not believe in this Aggadah…. I said, 'In truth, I do not believe that the Messiah was born on the day of the Destruction, and this Aggadah is either not true, or has some other interpretation derived from the secrets of the Sages.’”38 Against the accusation of Frai Paul that he denies the writings of the Jews, Naḥmanides answered that Jews believe in the Scriptures and in the Talmud, but that “we call the Midrash a book of ‘Aggadah,’ which means ‘razionamiento,’ that is to say, merely things that a man relates to his fellow,” and these are not binding.39 Naḥmanides’ saying has been discussed ever since; many believe that it was not Naḥmanides’ true opinion, but only a subterfuge in the heat of the discussion.40 In his commentary on the Torah, however, we find many statements that express the same scepticism regarding the aggadah and his free selection of what to accept and what not to. In Ashkenazi Judaism, beginning with Rashi, we encounter a more positive attitude towards aggadah, but never a unanimous position. The expansion of the term to include everything which is not halakhah made a clear position much more difficult than in the classical rabbinic literature, when aggadah was still mainly limited to certain forms of biblical interpretation.

37

Benjamin M. Lewin, Otzar ha-Geonim IV (Jerusalem: The Hebrew University Press Association, 1931), Ḥagigah 59–60; translation Lifshitz, “Aggadah” 22. 38 Translation Hyam Maccoby, Judaism on Trial. Jewish-Christian Disputations in the Middle Ages (The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization; London / Toronto: Associated University Press, 1982) 110. 39 Maccoby, Judaism 115–116. 40 See Maccoby, Judaism 44–74; Marvin Fox, “Nahmanides on the Status of Aggadot: Perspectives on the Disputation at Barcelona, 1263,” JJS 40 (1989) 95–109.

Historicity and Truth in Haggadic Texts Roger David Aus We unfortunately live in an era of “alternative facts,” “fake news,” and outright lies. This applies primarily to the political realm. Yet Jews and Christians can also justifiably address the question of the relationship between history and truth already in the Bible and in later Judaic and Jewish Christian haggadic texts.1 One of the earliest examples of haggadah is found in the Chronicler’s rewriting of the books of Samuel and Kings in the Hebrew Bible. Names, large numbers, speeches and prayers were added, gaps were filled in, and certain things were omitted, while others were given a much greater emphasis. Did the Chronicler “fake” history as represented in the four biblical books he rewrote? Malcolm Doubles states in this regard: “The idea that this was a falsification of history presumably never occurred to him.”2 Nor did it occur to his readers. They readily accepted this rewriting and embellishment as a part of their (oral and) literary culture. Other later examples of this creative retelling / rewriting of biblical history are Jubilees, the Genesis Apocryphon at Qumran, PseudoPhilo, and Josephus’ Jewish Antiquities. The latter two clearly demonstrate how this still prevailed in Palestine in the first century CE.3 The three extant Palestinian targums (Pseudo-Jonathan, Neofiti 1, and the Fragment Targums) by numerous embellishments also “reshaped” the narratives found in the Pentateuch, although they were originally oral, recited from memory. When such translation embellishments were recited within a synagogue worship service, no one considered them strange or inappropriate. The opposite was the case; it was thought that they helped the meaning of Scripture to come alive, to understand their present meaning, which was their intention.

1

This is a major revision and expansion of the section “IV. Haggadah and the Questions of Historicity and Truth in the Gospels” in my The Death, Burial, and Resurrection of Jesus, and the Death, Burial, and Translation of Moses in Judaic Tradition (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD, etc.: University Press of America, 2008) 283–300, used by permission. Jonathan Aus points out to me the broader philosophical discussion in the volumes Truth and Historicity, ed. Hans-Georg Gadamer (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1972), and Richard Campbell, Truth and Historicity (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992). 2 Cf. Emil Schürer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, revised by Geza Vermes et al. (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1979) 2.347. 3 While he later wrote the Antiquities in Rome, Josephus’ mother tongue was Aramaic, and he grew up in Jerusalem with primarily Palestinian traditions.

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One can only agree with Philip Alexander when he states that rabbinic (haggadic) anecdotes appear to have “little interest in history for its own sake,” and “in general the Rabbis were not concerned with historiography....”4 This was also true for the predecessors of the rabbis such as those responsible for the early works cited above. No one posed the question of the historicity of an anecdote or a narrative, nor was there any interest in such a question. That is and has been a modern issue, especially since the Enlightenment and the rise of the historical-critical method in biblical scholarship. One should not retroactively apply it to Palestinian Judaic and Jewish Christian sources of the first century CE and later.

I. The Question of Truth Biblical fundamentalists and some very conservative Evangelicals tend today to employ black and white thinking in regard to sayings or narratives in the Gospels of the New Testament, one of my own areas of specialty. For them these can only be “true” or “false.” “Historicity” and “facticity” are opposed to “theological tales,” which are “fiction.” The Evangelists do not intend to “deceive” their readers, especially through haggadah, which is “fable” and “Jewish myth.”5

4 Cf. his “Rabbinic Biography and the Biography of Jesus: A Survey of the Evidence” in Synoptic Studies. The Ampleworth Conferences of 1882 and 1983, ed. Christopher Tuckett (JSNT Suppl. Series 7; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984) 19–50, quotations pp. 43 and 39. It is strange that Samuel Byrskog in Story as History – History as Story. The Gospel Tradition in the Context of Ancient Oral History (WUNT 123; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2000) has sections on “Historical Truth” (179–184) and “Factual Truth and Interpreted Truth” (184–186), yet only notes Greek historians. See his extensive bibliography of them on pp. 309–314. 5 Cf. the use of these terms in Charles Quarles, Midrash Criticism. Introduction and Appraisal (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1998), passim. A member of SNTS, he is concerned with “biblical inerrancy” (xiii), for example in regard to the Matthean and Lukan birth narratives. He feels threatened by what he considers “The Erosion of the Historical Foundations of the Christian Faith” (93). While such a fine scholar as Dale Allison, Jr., can correctly note: “Just as the Romans crucified Jesus and Christian haggadah embroidered the fact...,” and can speak of “Matthew’s haggadic infancy narrative” (Resurrecting Jesus. The Earliest Christian Tradition and its Interpreters [New York / London: T & T Clark International, 2005] 332 and 355), he unfortunately also employs terms such as “deceit” and “self-deception” (215), “quaint,” “bizarre,” “nonsense” (220–221), “conscious deceit” (296), “haggadic fiction” (302), “sheer fiction” (311), and “unadulterated legend” (312). The same is true for Alfred Loisy, who in L’Évangile selon Marc (Paris: Émile Nourry, 1912) 485 labels the discovery of the empty tomb “an apologetic fiction” (see also Mark’s “fiction” on p. 483). See also the art. by Richard Miller, “Mark’s Empty Tomb and Other Translation Fables in Classical Antiquity” in JBL 129 (2010) 759–776. In his volume Who Killed Jesus? (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1995), John Dominic Crossan also uses terms such as “passion fiction” (xii) and the “fictional

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In John 18:38 Pilate is represented as asking Jesus: “What is truth?” The answer, of course, depends on how one defines the term. Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary offers several options. One is “the state of being the case: FACT.”6 This is the definition preferred by those who take the Scriptures literally. What a particular verse says is “the case,” it is a “fact.” Yet there is another valid definition of “truth”: “a transcendent fundamental or spiritual reality.”7 It is in the latter sense in which most biblical scholars today use the term “truth.” For Jews, Christians, and Muslims, for example, Moses was and is a great prophet who revealed part of God’s will for us humans in the Hebrew Bible. This is for the three monotheistic religions a “transcendent spiritual reality” or a “religious truth,” a truth which is part of their own inherited religious traditions. Yet it is not “true,” it is not a “truth” for a Hindu or a Buddhist; the adherents of these religions have their own religious truths. The above discussion applies especially to the nature of haggadah. A good example is the statement found in Pseudo-Philo 9:13,8 b. Soṭah 12a on Exod 2:2,9 and Exod. Rab. Shemoth 1/20 on the same verse,10 that Moses was born circumcised. According to my wife, a pediatrician, this (apparent) phenomenon can indeed happen, but only extremely rarely (hypospasdias in an advanced form). The first Jewish hearers of this haggadah, however, did not ask whether Moses’ being born circumcised was factually, biologically true. Rather, they understood its original intention to glorify Moses, the future redeemer of Israel, at the time of his birth. He was already then someone very special.11 For them

creation” of names (177). All of these are less than helpful and miss the mark as to what haggadah wishes to express. As a Lutheran pastor, I am deeply ashamed of Martin Luther’s stance towards the Jews. He spoke, for example, of “Jewish fables and lies” propagated by their rabbis. See Dr. Martin Luther Sämtliche Schriften, ed. Johann Georg Walch (St. Louis, MO: Concordia Publishing House, 1880–18902) 2.466 on Gen 29:1–3; see also 1.369–370 on Gen 4:15, and 2.1857 on Gen 48:3–7. I owe these references to Peter von der Osten-Sacken. 6 Cf. Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary (Springfield, MA: Merriam-Webster, 1987) 1268. 7 Ibid. 8 SC 229.112; OTP 2.316. 9 Soncino 61. 10 Mirkin 5.34, with other parallels in n. 3; Soncino 3.27. 11 Cf. my Matthew 1–2 and the Virginal Conception in Light of Palestinian and Hellenistic Judaic Traditions on the Birth of Israel’s First Redeemer, Moses (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD, etc.: University Press of America, 2004) 83, n. 178.

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this was a “religious truth.”12 It is such truths which haggadah is capable of expressing very well.13 It is Moshe David Herr who in his discussion of haggadah is very helpful in clarifying what kind of “truth” is found there. He notes that haggadoth / aggadoth are for the most part ... moral and ethical teachings dealing with the problems of faith and the art of living. The aggadah is therefore didactic. From this point of view, it certainly cannot be said that the aggadah does not contain truth which is greater than that of historical and philological reality, and more important than that of the natural sciences. From the point of its aim, the truth of the aggadah is that of the moral and ethical principles of the art of living, while from the point of view of its form, its truth is that of artistic poetic work. The fact that in this topic there is no place for rational and unambiguous decisions does not diminish its importance.14

The modern student of the Bible who can only interpret it literally will have a major problem with the above explanation of “truth” in regard to haggadah. Such a person is only interested in “facts,” measurable as in the natural sciences, and in “history” as it is pursued today at the university level. This is extremely regrettable, for by not being willing to deal extensively with haggadic texts and their peculiar traits, such a person cannot appreciate the great 12 Leopold Zunz, a very early and major scholar of the haggadah, already spoke of its containing “religious truths.” Cf. his Die gottesdienstlichen Vorträge der Juden historisch entwickelt. Ein Beitrag zur Alterthumskunde und biblischen Kritik, zur Literatur- und Religionsgeschichte (Berlin: Asher, 1832) 349. There he also speaks of its intention of bringing Heaven (God) closer to the congregation / the community, and man in turn closer to Heaven. It glorifies God and comforts Israel. 13 Another example of such a truth is found in b. Sanh. 92b (Soncino 618–619) in regard to the dry bones of the dead whom Ezekiel resurrected in Ezekiel 37. For R. Judah (b. Ilai, a third generation Tanna: cf. Hermann Strack and Günter Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash [Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992] 84–85, hereafter cited as Introduction), this preliminary resurrection was “truth; it was a parable.” That is, for him its religious truth consisted in its metaphorically (parabolically) pointing to the general resurrection of the dead at the end of time. See also Carl Holladay’s definition of a parable as “a narrative or saying of varying length, designed to illustrate a truth especially through a comparison or a simile” (A Critical Introduction to the New Testament [Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2005] 62). In his Das Evangelium nach Johannes (NTD 4; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1959) 85, Hermann Strathmann generalizes regarding the Fourth Evangelist by saying that “he treats scenes, figures and dialogues quite freely as the means to present religious truths.” 14 Cf. the art. “Aggadah (or Haggadah...)” in EncJud (1971) 2.355. See also the important remark on p. 359: “The aggadah knows of no conflict between literal and figurative explanations.” A short narrative by Jakob Kranz (1740–1804) is also relevant in this respect, “Die Wahrheit und das Märchen.” Truth walked through the streets completely naked, yet everyone fled from it until it finally met Legend / Tale, who had on beautiful clothes. Upon its receiving some from him, people finally began to love Truth. “Since then Truth and Legend / Tale go together, and both are popular with people.” See Israel Zwi Kanner, ed., Neue jüdische Märchen (Frankfurt am Main: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 1978) 187.

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richness of the traditions they contain, including their “religious truths.” The following ten examples from Palestinian15 Judaic and Jewish Christian sources point out such richness and religious truths.

II. Ten Haggadic Examples of the Question of Historicity and Religious Truth in Judaic and Jewish Christian Sources 1. How Many Pillars of Cloud Were There at the Exodus? Mek. R. Ish. Beshallaḥ 1 describes the Israelites’ departure from slavery in Egypt in Exod 13:21, “The Lord went in front of them in a pillar of cloud by day, to lead them along the way, and in a pillar of cloud by night, to give them light.” Based on various scriptural verses, it states there were seven clouds: “four on the four sides of them, one above them, one beneath them, and one that advanced before them on the road, raising the depressions and lowering the elevations, as it is said: Isa 40:4. It also killed the snakes and scorpions, and it swept and sprinkled the road [free of dust] before them. R. Yehudah16 says: ‘There were thirteen clouds, two on every side, two over them, two beneath them, and one that advanced before them.’ R. Yoshiyyah17 says: ‘There were four, one in front of them, one behind them, one above them, and one beneath them.’ Rabbi18 says: ‘There were only two.’”19 Scripture only mentions two clouds, as Rabbi maintains. Yet the number seven is first given, usually the majority opinion. Then two other eminent scholars maintain thirteen or four. Are the numbers four, seven and thirteen “false,” “fictional,” or even “deceptive”? Hardly. Just as the biblical verse they comment on, Exod 13:21, is not actually “historical,” but expresses the “religious truth” that God cared for the Israelites by showing them the way and protecting them in the wilderness, so the expanded numbers seek to express the same motif through exaggeration. This is typical of haggadah, and those who heard these larger numbers appreciated and accepted their intention, for they were used to such embellishment from the synagogue (the targums or Aramaic paraphrase of the Hebrew text, and sermons) and the study house.20

15 The home of haggadah was primarily Palestine. Even that in the Babylonian Talmud is for the most part from there. Cf. the art. “Aggadah or Haggadah” in EncJud (2007) 1.454. 16 R. Yehudah (b. Ilai) was a third generation Tanna (Introduction 84). 17 He was also a third generation Tanna (Introduction 83). 18 R. Yehudah ha-Nasi (the Prince) was a fourth generation Tanna (Introduction 89). 19 Cf. Lauterbach 1.183. 20 These influenced each other in this respect. Cf. the art. “Aggadah or Haggadah” in EncJud (2007) 1.456 on public address in the worship service by a preacher, and by a sage in the academy. “The aggadah is a fusion of both.”

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2. The Division of the Waters of the Re(e)d Sea Exod 14:21 reads: “Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea. The Lord drove the sea back by a strong east wind all night, and turned the sea into dry land; and the waters were divided.” Mek. R. Ish. Beshallaḥ 5 comments on the last phrase: “All the waters in the world were divided. And from where can you prove that even the water in cisterns, ditches and caves, and in pitchers, cups, barrels and flasks was divided? From the passage: ‘And the waters were divided.’ For it is not written here: ‘And the sea was divided,’ but ‘And the waters were divided.’ This teaches that all the water in the world was divided.” Even the waters above the firmament and under the earth were divided.21 This charming scriptural interpretation is based on the plural “waters.” When the waters of the Re(e)d Sea were divided, was it an historical fact that those in cisterns, ditches and caves, pitchers, cups, barrels and flasks, as well as those above and below the earth, were also divided? Of course not. Yet neither was it “pure fiction.” The author of this account wishes to say in an haggadic way that the dividing of the waters by the Lord (the divine passive) was such a fantastic deed that all the other waters of creation joined in emphasizing its great significance. S. Lehrman notes on the parallel tradition in Exod. Rab. Beshallaḥ 21/6: “So that the whole world might know of the great miracle God had performed for His people.”22 3. The Well Which Accompanied the Israelites for Forty Years in the Wilderness After having left Egypt and passed through the Re(e)d Sea, the Israelites wandered for forty years in the wilderness before entering Canaan. What was their source of water in order to survive the scorching heat of the desert? Haggadic tradition on the water from the rock at Horeb (Exod 17:6; Num 20:8) associated it with the well of Num 21:16–20. Pseudo-Philo 11:15 maintains it “followed them in the wilderness for forty years and went up to the mountain with them and went down into the plains.”23 A wall painting in the Dura Europos synagogue on the Euphrates from before 256 CE shows Moses striking the rock / well with the staff in his right hand, with twelve streams of water flowing off to the tents of the twelve Israelite tribes, six to the right and six to the left, with

21

Cf. Lauterbach 1.231 with n. 10 on the latter waters. Cf. Soncino 2.267, n. 1, and Mirkin 5.251. It goes on to say that “All these miracles were performed by Moses.” 23 Cf. SC 229.124 and OTP 2.319. Daniel Harrington in 2.298–299 argues for the present Latin text’s deriving from the Hebrew, from Palestine and probably from about the time of Jesus. 22

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a tribal leader before each tent.24 A Tannaitic source states that the water turned into mighty streams so that the Israelites could sit in small boats and come together.25 The well even provided wine for the drink-offerings for forty years, various kinds of herbs and vegetables, clothes for the women,26 as well as a number of kinds of exceedingly fat fish.27 Is this delightful, early legend pure “fiction,” the opposite of historically true: “false”? The contrary is the case. Typical of haggadah, it expresses a religious truth. God not only provided manna to the Israelites for forty years in the wilderness. For their thirst He gave them a well from which they could drink daily and also derive many other benefits. He did not abandon His people, but provided for them in their great need. The haggadic narrative points to Him as a loving, caring Father. 4. The Pious Behavior of R. Phinehas’s Ass The Babylonian Talmud relates the following incident regarding R. Phinehas b. Yair, a fourth generation Tanna,28 in Ḥull. 7a–b: “R. Phinehas happened to come to a certain inn. They placed barley before his ass, but it would not eat. It was sifted, but the ass would not eat. It was carefully picked; still the ass would not eat it. ‘Perhaps,’ suggested R. Phinehas, ‘it is not tithed.’ It was at once tithed, and the ass ate it. He therefore exclaimed: ‘This poor creature is about to do the will of the Creator, and you would feed it with untithed produce!’”29 The strange behavior of Balaam’s ass towards him was explained when it spoke to him in Num 22:28–30. Here the ass does not speak but refuses three times to eat normal fodder. It insists on properly tithed food, just as its owner, a rabbi, certainly partook of such. This humorous tale was most probably related in order to emphasize the importance of humans’ eating only properly 24

For details, cf. my Two Puzzling Baptisms. First Corinthians 10:1–5 and 15:29. Studies in Their Judaic Background (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD, etc.: Hamilton Books, 2017) 40 with n. 178. 25 Cf. t. Sukkah 3:11–13 in Lieberman, Mo῾ed 268–269; Zuckermandel / Liebermann 196– 197; Eng. Neusner 2.220–221. 26 Cf. Cant. Rab. 4:12 § 3 (Dunski 123; Soncino 9.223) and 4:14 § 1 (Dunski 124; Soncino 9.225). 27 Cf. Gen. Rab. Toledoth 66/3 on Gen 27:28 (Theodor and Albeck 747; Soncino 2.602). Sipre Beha῾alothekha 95 on Num 11:22 notes that the fat fish was “still more than they needed” (Horovitz 95; Eng. Neusner 2.105). For a more extensive description of the benefits of the well, see my The Death, Burial, and Resurrection of Jesus, and the Death, Burial, and Translation of Moses in Judaic Tradition 145–149. Its relevance to 1 Cor 10:4 is pointed out in Two Puzzling Baptisms 26–41, and its relevance to the narrative of the empty tomb in Mark 16:1–8 in The Death 176–197. 28 Cf. Introduction 87. 29 Soncino 29.

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tithed food. In a typical haggadic way, it employs “imaginative dramatization” in order to make the point.30 It is quite possible that this humorous incident was related in a synagogue sermon in order to rouse the attendants’ interest in the subject of tithing. In my own sermons as a pastor I have always attempted to include at least one humorous remark. This always appealed to the listeners and kept them attentive. Rabbi is related to have done exactly this when the congregation became drowsy.31 Haggadah can entertain,32 but always with a definite purpose in mind. No listener would have thought of asking whether the incident of R. Phinehas’s ass’s insisting three times on tithed fodder was historically “true.” It rather conveyed a religious truth: pious people should eat tithed food. 5. The Very Early Creation of Moses’ Burial Plot Deut 33:21 reads in part concerning Moses’ blessing of Gad, “For there a portion of a ruler was reserved.” The Tannaitic commentary Sipre Vezot ha-Berakhah 355 notes here: “This refers to the burial plot of Moses, which was in a portion of Gad.” To overcome statements in Scripture that he died in the portion of Reuben, the midrash continues by saying, “Moses was carried upon the wings of the Shekhinah four miles from the portion of Reuben to the portion of Gad, while the ministering angels mourned for him, saying, ‘May he come in peace and rest upon his bier!’ This [the burial plot of Moses] is one of the things which were created at twilight before the [first] Sabbath.” These ten things are then listed.33 Just as Moses’ birth is glorified in Judaic haggadic traditions, so is his death. This includes reinterpreting Scripture’s reference to Gad in Deut 33:21 to now mean that Moses’ burial plot was reserved in that portion because he was indeed the “ruler” (commander of Israel). To embellish his death even more, it is maintained that his burial place was made already at the end of the week of Creation. Is this a falsification of Scripture, something intended to deceive the hearer (at a synagogue sermon or a lecture in the study house)? The opposite is the 30 One of my Yale teachers, Judah Goldin, notes that this is one of “the familiar devices of haggadic midrash.” Cf. his The Song at the Sea (Philadelphia / New York: The Jewish Publication Society, 1990) 27. This is true of haggadic narratives in general. See also Isaac Heinemann’s term “creative historiography” in this respect (Introduction 260). 31 Cf. Cant. Rab. 1:15 § 3 (Dunski 49; Soncino 9.87), which has several parallels. This also applied to the study house. In b. Šabb. 30b (Soncino 139) Rabbah “used to say something humorous and the scholars were cheered” before he commenced his discourse. 32 The art. “Aggadah or Haggadah” in EncJud (2007) 1.458 correctly notes “the obvious pleasure taken by the aggadists in the actual telling of a story.” 33 Cf. Finkelstein 417–418; Eng. Hammer 372. Hammer in 511, n. 2, notes on this Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews 5.109, n. 99, for the parallel traditions. Saldarini in regard to ͗Abot R. Nat. B 37 (p. 217) analyzes them on pp. 306–310.

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case. Just as Moses is portrayed as already being circumcised at his birth, so the greatest Israelite hero is glorified at his death in part by having a very special burial plot. Indeed, it was prepared already at the end of God’s six day work of creation. Those hearing this detail will have appreciated its true intention. They will not have posed the question of whether it was true or false. 6. The Twelve-year-old Jesus in the Temple in Luke 2:41–52 In the Gospels of the New Testament, with the exception of Luke, there is no record of anything happening to him between the birth of Jesus and the beginning of his public ministry as an adult. Early Palestinian Jewish Christians therefore created an incident to fill in this “gap,” which is very typical of haggadah. Only the Gospel of Luke contains it in 2:41–52. Here Jesus is portrayed in terms of the boy Samuel,34 who in Judaic tradition also made an annual pilgrimage to the Temple (then not yet in Jerusalem, but in Shiloh) with his parents, as in the Lukan narrative. When he was only two years old, Samuel is represented as a child prodigy who gives instructions in the Temple as to the proper ritual slaughtering of a bullock there: a priest receives the blood, yet a layperson does the slaughtering. Josephus, the earliest Judaic chronography in S. ῾Olam Rab.13, and other texts have Samuel as twelve in the Temple when he was called and began to prophesy there,35 the same age as Jesus. This narrative was originally composed by Palestinian Jewish Christians in Aramaic or possibly Hebrew.36 It typically applies Judaic traditions on one of Israel’s great heroes, Samuel, to its own hero, the Messiah Jesus, who is also represented as a child prodigy, amazing the teachers with his understanding, questions and answers (Luke 2:46–47).37 Did the first Palestinian Jewish Christian hearers of this incident consider it to be deceptive, a “falsification of history”? By no means. On the contrary, since they were accustomed in Judaic tradition to the glorification of early Israelite heroes, already in their youth, they appreciated how well this was done in the present instance. For them,

34 Cf. 1 Sam 2:26 as cited in the margin of the Nestle-Aland Greek New Testament28 at Luke 2:52, the end of the narrative. See also 1 Sam 2:21 and 26 in regard to Luke 2:40, just before its beginning. 35 Cf. the discussion of b. Ber.31b and the other relevant texts in “The Child Jesus in the Temple (Luke 2:41–51a), and Judaic Traditions on the Child Samuel in the Temple (1 Samuel 1–3)” in my Samuel, Saul and Jesus. Three Early Palestinian Jewish Christian Gospel Haggadoth (SFSHJ 54; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994) 1–64, especially 30 and 22–24. 36 Cf. the discussion in ibid., 48–53. 37 The German Jewish painter Max Liebermann portrayed this scene in a masterful way in 1879. It is now found in the Hamburger Kunsthalle.

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Jesus, who later excelled in wisdom, certainly must have done so much earlier, like Samuel. For them, that was an “haggadic truth.”38 7. The Rejection of Jesus at Nazareth in Luke 4 It is generally acknowledged that the Gospel writer Luke knew of and made use of the Gospel of Mark, who describes Jesus’ rejection in his home town of Nazareth in 6:1–6a. In contrast to the Evangelist Matthew, who follows the Markan narrative in 13:54–58, Luke in 4:16–30 has a very different narrative, influenced by Day of Atonement imagery from beginning to end. This includes the high priest as reading aloud; the quotation of Isa 58:6, part of the prophetic reading on the annual Day of Atonement; and Jesus as the scapegoat in Luke 4:29. The latter verse states that because of Jesus’ remarks regarding the positive behavior of Elijah and Elisha towards non-Israelites, all those in the synagogue burned with anger and “rose, drove him out of town and led him to the brow / edge of the hill on which their town was built in order to throw / hurl him headlong down. Yet he passed through their midst and went his way.” Yet no precipitous site can be located anywhere close to Nazareth, which rather lay on a slope.39 For this reason Christian tradition later invented such a site, ca. 2.5 kilometers (1.5 miles) southeast of the town, which was thought to correspond to Luke’s description.40 The Palestinian Jewish Christian narrative ultimately informing Luke here describes Jesus as the scapegoat, hurled down to its death from a steep precipice on the Day of Atonement. In Mark, Jesus appears in Nazareth with his disciples. In Luke, he is alone, like the scapegoat. This according to m. Yoma 6 is sent out of the city (Jerusalem, like Nazareth in Luke) and “led away” to the site of its being killed. Eminent citizens of Jerusalem accompany him to the steep precipice (ṣoq) from which it is “pushed / hurled down” to its certain death. Its blood must be shed. The expiation or atonement of Lev 16:10 thus takes place via its body (guf), put to death. It bears all the iniquities, transgressions and sins of the people of Israel (Lev 16:21–22).41 38

It is symptomatic of the skepsis and general lack of appreciation of haggadah in the New Testament, especially in the Gospels, that this suggested background to the narrative of the twelve-year-old Jesus in the Temple to my knowledge is not mentioned in any commentary. 39 Cf. John Rousseau and Rami Arav, Jesus and His World. An Archaeological and Cultural Dictionary (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995) 214. 40 Cf. Clemens Kopp, Die heiligen Stätten der Evangelien (Regensburg: Pustet, 1959) 124– 125, as well as pictures 11 and 12 of the mountains from which and to which Jesus ostensibly leaped. See also the Israel Guide of Zev Vilnay (Jerusalem: Daf-Chen, 1979) 464 on the location of “the Precipice (Precipitation) or the Leap of the Lord (Latin: Mons Saltus Domini).” 41 For the full argumentation, cf. “Catchword Connections and Day of Atonement Imagery in Luke 4:16–30” in Aus, My Name Is “Legion.” Palestinian Judaic Traditions in Mark 5:1– 20 and Other Gospel Texts (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD, etc.: University Press of America, 2003) 101–153, especially pp. 132–142.

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37

Up to now commentators have not noticed or have intentionally overlooked Day of Atonement imagery, including Jesus as the scapegoat, in Luke 4:29. In his recent commentary on Luke, the highly respected New Testament scholar and expert in Greco-Roman sources Michael Wolter, for example, writes regarding the details of v. 29 that they are “pure fiction.”42 This they certainly are not. He unfortunately does not realize that Palestinian Jewish Christians used creative haggadic dramatization at this point in order to describe Jesus as the scapegoat who much later gave his life for all upon the Cross.43 Since it was not yet time for this, he miraculously passed through the midst of those who intended to kill him and went on his way (v. 30). 8. The Death of John the Baptist in Mark 6:14–29 The portrayal of the Baptist’s beheading (Mark 6:17–29) is so colorful and its dramatic tension so high that it has been very popular throughout the centuries. Two examples are Peter Paul Rubens’ painting “The Feast of Herod,”44 and Oscar Wilde’s 1893 literary work “Salome,” made into an opera by Richard Strauss in 1905. The narrative, which can best be labeled an etiological haggadah, explains the why and how of the “beheading” of v. 16. It is the longest episode in the Gospel (13 verses) which does not directly deal with Jesus. Herod’s telling Herodias on his birthday in v. 23, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom,” is clearly based on the Esther narrative (5:3,6; 7:2). Other aspects of Judaic tradition on the book of Esther deal with King Ahasuerus at his own birthday banquet having his wife Vashti beheaded, with her head served on a platter by an executioner, because she refused to

42

Cf. his Das Lukasevangelium (HNT 5; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008) 198. This is rather strange in the light of his maintaining that Luke had at his disposal a “cultural encyclopedia” which had an extremely Jewish profile, including among other things his excellent knowledge of the Septuagint. He grew up in a Jewish family and received not only his primary, but also his secondary socialization in a Jewish milieu. In addition, the Third Evangelist assumes readers who are well acquainted with the history of Israel and its sacred writings (9–10 and 25, respectively). If this was the case, they certainly knew of the imagery connected with the most sacred day of the year, the Day of Atonement, on which the scapegoat was hurled to its death from a precipice. While the Third Evangelist writes perhaps up to two decades after the destruction of the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem in 70 CE, Palestinian Jewish Christians at this point certainly retained knowledge of this their most important sacred rite. 43 This also obviously excludes the derivation of Luke 4:29 from the attempt of the citizens of Delphi to throw Aesop as a blasphemer to his death. Cf. Margaret Froelich and Thomas Phillips, “Throw the Blasphemer off a Cliff: Luke 4.16–30 in Light of the Life of Aesop” in NTS 65 (2019) 21–32. 44 Rubens lived from 1577–1640. Hanging in the National Gallery of Scotland in Edinburgh, the oil painting depicts Herodias pricking with a fork the tongue of John the Baptist’s head on a platter because he had accused her of committing adultery with her husband Herod Antipas while her divorced husband (his brother Philip) was still alive.

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dance naked before him and his assembled guests. They provide a large number of details in the Gospel narrative.45 Josephus relates in Ant. 18.116–119 that Herod Antipas, afraid of John the Baptist’s great popularity and of possible sedition, preemptively had John brought in chains to the desert fortress Machaerus (at the northeast end of the Dead Sea) and put to death there.46 This was the historical end of John. Yet the question of historicity should not be asked of the Markan narrative. In an haggadic manner typical of Palestinian Jewish Christians, it fills in the gap of how, why and when John was killed, perhaps also satisfying the pious curiosity of those who did not know the real details of John’s death. Its “truth” within the Gospel lies on a different level: John’s death prefigures that of Jesus, and the Baptist’s activity definitely ceases in the tomb (Mark 6:29). Through the resurrection from his own tomb, however, Jesus’ activity continues or begins on a new level for those who confess him as the Son of God, the Lord of their lives. 9. Jesus’ Farewell Discourse in John 13–17 Just before Jacob died (Gen 49:33), he blessed his sons, the twelve tribes of Israel (v. 28), individually, telling them what would happen to them in the days to come (v. 1).This became the model for many later farewell discourses or testaments.47 Foremost among them is Moses’ blessing the twelve tribes of Israel in Deuteronomy 33, just before his death and burial in chapter 34. Judaic tradition maintains: “As the first redeemer was, so shall the latter Redeemer be.”48 That is, as Moses, the first redeemer of Israel from slavery in Egypt was, so shall the last or final Redeemer, the Messiah, be. Just as Moses held a farewell discourse to the twelve tribes just before his death and burial, so Jesus is represented by the Fourth Evangelist as holding a farewell discourse to his twelve disciples in chapters 13–17. This is peculiar to John; the three Synoptic Evangelists do not have this long speech. As noted before, speeches or creative dramatization are typical of Judaic haggadah. The Tannaitic commentary on Deuteronomy, Sipre, notes at Vezot ha-Berakhah 342 on Deut 33:1 that Moses now speaks “words of comfort” to Israel.

45 Full argumentation for this, including Aramaic as the most probable original language, is found in “Herod Antipas’ Birthday Banquet in Mark 6:17–29, and Ahasuerus’ Birthday Banquet in Judaic Traditions on Esther 1” in my Water into Wine and the Beheading of John the Baptist (BJS 150; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988) 39–74. 46 Cf. B.J. 7.163–177 for a description of it. 47 Cf. for example Joshua 23–24, the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, and Acts 20:17– 38. 48 Cf. Eccl. Rab. 1:9 § 1 (Vilna 8; Soncino 8.33). Exod 4:20 with an ass is cited for Moses, and Zech 9:9 with an ass for the Messiah. The same is true for manna and a well. For a number of parallels to this saying, see Str-B 1.69–70.

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All the prophets had learned from him how first to speak harsh words to Israel, then words of comfort.49 The latter term is the plural of the Hebrew ‫נִ יחוּם‬, “comfort, consolation.”50 This is also a major motif emphasized by fourfold repetition in Jesus’ farewell discourse in John. In 14:16 Jesus says: “I will ask the Father, and He will give you another παράκλητος, to be with you forever. 17) This is the Spirit of truth....” In v. 26 the παράκλητος is the Holy Spirit, whom Jesus’ Father will send to them in his name. That is, as Jesus now has comforted the disciples, so after his death and burial he will have his Father send them a second Comforter as a substitute for him. This motif is repeated in 15:26 and in 16:7, where in the latter verse Jesus himself will send him to the disciples.51 The usual English translation of the Greek noun παράκλητος here is “advocate,” as in the Latin translation advocatus; “helper” is also sometimes used. Yet the Greek interpreters of the Fourth Gospel correctly related it to the active παρακαλῶν or παρακλήτωρ,52 including the sense of “comforting / consoling.” The Fourth Evangelist is well-known for including more than one meaning in a term. This appears to be another such instance. Did Moses historically address “words of comfort” to the twelve tribes of Israel in Deuteronomy 33 directly before his death and burial? No pious Jew would have thought of raising such a question. Nor would Palestinian and Hellenistic Jewish Christians have considered Jesus’ very extended farewell speech to the twelve disciples in John 13–17 just before his death and burial to be non-historical, fiction, false as the opposite of true. On the contrary, the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, whom God / Jesus will send is the Spirit of truth. Recognizing Jesus’ long farewell address as that of the final Redeemer of Israel, the Messiah, who acts here just as the first redeemer of Israel, Moses, acted directly before his own death and burial, made early Christians very appreciative of haggadic Judaic traditions designed to comfort and console them when their master was no longer with them. 10. Extended Darkness Before Jesus’ Death on the Cross The earliest Gospel, that of Mark, states at 15:25 that Jesus was crucified at the third hour, that is, ca. 9:00 a.m. Verse 33 continues: “When the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land / earth until the ninth hour.” Then Jesus breathed his last (vv. 34–37). The sun’s eclipse is described here as

49

Cf. Finkelstein 391; Eng. Hammer 349. Cf. Jastrow 904. 51 It is significant that the Hebrew New Testament of the United Bible Societies has here (pp. 280–281 and 283–284) ‫ ְמנַ ֵחם‬, “Comforter,” one of the names of the Messiah (Jastrow 799,2 and Str-B 1.66). 52 Cf. BAGD 618 on the first noun, and 617.4., “comfort, encourage, cheer up,” on the verb. 50

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lasting three hours, from 12 o’clock noon until 3:00 p.m.53 Jesus was crucified on the first day of Passover, the 15th of Nisan, when according to Philo of Alexandria “the moon is full” and “there is no darkness,” “as the sun shines from morning to evening....”54 Astronomically, a solar eclipse is completely impossible at this time. A total darkening of the sun lasts at the most seven minutes, a partial darkening at the most two hours. No other eclipse, either complete or partial, has ever lasted three hours. The origin of this non-historical eclipse must be sought elsewhere. While solar eclipses were recorded as part of the prodigia at the deaths of famous men in Greco-Roman sources,55 those noted for Jewish figures are more relevant. In b. Sukkah 29a “our rabbis taught” that the sun is eclipsed when the vice president of the Sanhedrin is not mourned fittingly.56 A key passage from the Hebrew Bible for a solar eclipse at the death of a famous Jew is Amos 8:9, employed in b. Mo῾ed Qaṭ. 25b: When the soul of R. Pedath went into repose, R. Isaac b. Eleazar opened his funeral address thus: “This day is as hard for Israel as the day when the sun set at noon-tide, as it is written: ‘And it shall come to pass in that day ... that I will cause the sun to go down at noon, and I will darken the earth in the clear day. And I will turn your feasts into mourning and all your songs into lamentation ... as the mourning of an only son’ (Amos 8:9–10).” “And,” said R. Yoḥanan, “that was the day of King Josiah’s death.”57

Here a solar eclipse is adduced at the death of a rabbi, a distinguished person. It is also described as taking place at that of a Judean king, just as in the case of famous Hellenistic and Roman personages, but also of Jesus. According to Amos 8:9 God’s mourning for an only son (v. 10) was to be accompanied by the sun’s going down “at noon.” He would darken the earth / land in broad daylight. The fulfillment of Scripture was so important for the Palestinian Jewish Christian author of this prodigium that he intentionally changed God’s mourning for His only Son, Jesus, from the moment of his death to three hours before.58 If it had occurred for three hours after Jesus’ death, until 6:00 p.m., 53 In Luke 23:45 this “darkness” is made explicit by the statement: “the sun’s ‘light failed,’” with ἐκλείπω, the root of the English “eclipse.” On this section, cf. the full documentation in “The Prodigia at Jesus’ Crucifixion” in Samuel, Saul and Jesus 109–187, especially 134–147 on this solar eclipse. 54 Cf. Spec. Leg. 2.155 in the LCL translation of F. H. Colson. See also Exod. Rab. Bo 15/26 on Exod 12:2 (Mirkin 5.194; Soncino 3.196). 55 Cf. those for Romulus in 708 BCE, Peisander in 394 BCE, Gaius Julius Caesar in 44 BCE, and Nerva in 98 CE. 56 Soncino 130. 57 Soncino 162, which I have slightly altered. N. 4 correctly states that the Munich MS should be preferred here. 58 In y. ῾Abod. Zar. 3:1, 42c it is related that when R. Samuel b. R. Isaac died, there were fire from heaven, peals of thunder, and flashes of lightning “for three hours” (Eng. Neusner 33.113). A parallel tradition is found in y. Pe ͗ah 1:1, 15d (Neusner 2.58). On the three hours,

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41

there would have been the necessity of then quickly taking down the corpse and burying it before the sun went down, the beginning of the Sabbath (Deut 21:23). This would have been difficult to accomplish during darkness and hard to describe in a narrative. The Rabbis assumed that when God mourned in heaven, He followed human mourning customs. Bar Qappara, a fifth generation Tanna,59 notes in Pesiq. Rav Kah. 15/3 on Lam 1:1 that the second of the seven different mourning customs God follows is the following: When He asks His angels what a king does in mourning, they answer, “He extinguishes the lamps.” Thereupon God decides to do likewise. For this Joel 2:10 (= 4:15; Eng. 3:15) is adduced: “The sun and the moon are darkened, and the stars withdraw their shining.”60 Here too God mourns by causing an eclipse.61 When a Palestinian Christian Jew described the accompanying circumstances of Jesus’ death on the Cross, he meant it primarily to fulfill Scripture. God, the heavenly Father, mourned by darkening the sun (Joel 2:10; 4:15 = Eng. 3:15), and He did so already at noon for His only Son (Amos 8:9–10), for three hours before Jesus breathed his last. Was this “fiction,” a “falsification” of the facts? Certainly not. The first Jewish and Jewish Christian hearers of this narrative in Aramaic (or possibly Hebrew), and the later Jewish Christian hearers and readers of Mark’s Gospel in Greek, would have recognized and appreciated the background of the scriptural passages alluded to as interpreted in Judaic tradition. Such an haggadic description of Jesus’ death greatly aided them in understanding his shameful death by crucifixion as part of God’s will, already indicated in Scripture.

III. Conclusion The above ten texts from Palestinian Judaic and Jewish Christian sources are examples of how haggadah manifests itself. It is not interested in history or facticity for their own sake. Rather, for example through embellishment, see Peter Kuhn, Gottes Trauer und Klage in der rabbinischen Überlieferung (Talmud und Midrasch) (AGJU 13; Leiden: Brill, 1978) 339, n. 7. If this length of time was traditional, as appears to be the case, it may explain why there was also an eclipse of the sun at Jesus’ Crucifixion for three hours, from 12 o’clock noon until 3:00 p.m. 59 Cf. Introduction 90–91, 60 Cf. Mandelbaum 1.250–251; Eng. Braude and Kapstein 276–277, with n. 1 on p. 275. In a similar tradition in Lam. Rab. 1:1 § 1 (Vilna 19; Soncino 7.67), after the angels tell God a human king extinguishes the lamps if he has a son who dies, He says He will do likewise, as it is said: Joel 4:15. 61 The same texts note another custom. As a human rends his garment as a sign of mourning, so God rends His purple garment, i.e. the curtain of the Temple. Cf. Mark 15:38, the second prodigium at Jesus’ Crucifixion.

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exaggeration, speeches, and “creative dramatization,” it seeks to express a religious truth. If when doing so, it at times can also in part entertain, then the first hearers and readers of such haggadah retained its intention even more easily. Considerations employed still today in regard to haggadic texts such as the only alternative of something’s being true or false, of historicity or facticity, and expressions such as deception, a Jewish fable or myth, a theological tale, pure fiction, should be erased from the vocabulary of those who consider themselves to be scholars, especially of the New Testament. Instead, they should undergo a change in mindset and begin to open themselves to the great riches contained in haggadic texts. To do so, an attempt to understand them as the first Palestinian Jewish and Jewish Christian hearers and readers of such texts did would be very helpful. It is one of the tragedies of the Christian church that the number of its Palestinian Jewish members dwindled so rapidly after the successful missionizing of Gentiles. The latter soon made the former into small sects such as the Palestinian Ebionites, who for example did not believe in the virgin birth of Jesus. Early Palestinian and later even Hellenistic Jewish Christians, however, could have conveyed to Gentile Christians the nature of Jewish haggadah, and the centuries-old Gentile debate about the historicity / facticity and truth of haggadic sayings and narratives would have been unnecessary. This past unfortunately cannot now be changed. Yet it is not too late for those today unfamiliar with, and unappreciative of, the great riches of haggadic interpretation to become better acquainted with them. This is, as I can attest after over fifty years of dealing with such texts, a very rewarding experience, for haggadah “draws the heart of man, even like water.”62

62 Cf. b. Yoma 75a (Soncino 362); thirst in the scorching summer heat of Palestine is most likely meant. See also Sipre ῾Eqeb 49 on Deut 11:22 (Finkelstein 115; Eng. Hammer 106): “If you wish to know Him who spoke, and the world came into being, study haggadah, for thereby you will come to know Him and to cling to His ways.”

Haggada in den Qumrantexten Hermann Lichtenberger I. Hinführung* Abgesehen von den wenigen in Qumran gefundenen Dokumenten1 und den Kupferrollen 3Q15 haben nahezu alle Texte einen religiösen Bezug, der sich in unterschiedlicher Weise als Nähe zu autoritativen Schriften der alttestamentlich-jüdischen Überlieferung darstellt, die z.T. später zu Büchern des Kanons der Hebräischen Bibel wurden. Das betrifft in erster Linie Texte, die anachronistisch „biblische Schriften“ genannt werden2, da es sich um Handschriften von Texten handelt, die später Teil des Hebräischen Kanons wurden. Das gilt aber auch für Texte wie die Hodayot, die kaum explizite „biblische“ Zitate aufweisen, aber deren Sprache getränkt ist von der der Psalmen und Propheten. Näher an den autoritativen Texten des Judentums stehen Bearbeitungen meist erzählerischer Passagen oder Zusammenhänge, für deren Gattung und Charakter „Reworked Pentateuch“ bzw. „Rewritten Bible“3 vorgeschlagen wurde. Daniel Stökl Ben Ezra versucht, den anachronistischen Begriff „Bible“ mit der Benennung „Rewritten Scripture“4 zu vermeiden, was aber den Anachronismus nicht ganz heilen kann.5 Aus diesem Bereich werden wir uns im Folgenden erzählerischen Bearbeitungen – das können Erweiterungen oder Weglassungen sein – zuwenden. Wir verstehen hier unter Haggada über den autoritativen * Frau Marietta Hämmerle danke ich für stete und kompetente Hilfe. 1 Siehe Armin Lange/Ulrike Mittmann-Richert, „Annotated List of the Texts from the Judaean Desert“, in Emanuel Tov, Hg., The Texts from the Judaean Desert. Indices and an Introduction to the Discoveries in the Judaean Desert Series (DJD 39; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2002) 115–164 (143–144). 2 Zum Problem siehe Armin Lange, Handbuch der Textfunde vom Toten Meer, Band 1: Die Handschriften biblischer Bücher von Qumran und den anderen Fundhöhlen (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009) 14; Karin Finsterbusch/Armin Lange (Hg.), What is Bible? (Contributions to Biblical Exegesis and Theology 67; Leuven u.a.: Peeters, 2012). Hermann Lichtenberger, „Der biblische Kanon und die außerkanonischen Schriften“, in: Nathanael Riemer (Hg.), Jewish Lifeworlds and Jewish Thought. Festschrift presented to Karl E. Grözinger on the Occasion of his 70th Birthday (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2012) 15–25. 3 So auch Lange/Mittmann-Richert, „List“, 122–129. 4 Daniel Stökl Ben Ezra, Qumran. Die Texte vom Toten Meer und das antike Judentum (Jüdische Studien 3; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016) 216. 5 Wir werden darum „Bibel“/„biblisch“ mit Anführungszeichen benutzen.

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Text hinausgehende narrative Zusätze oder Kürzungen eines vorgegebenen Textes. Diese können aus kleinen Zusätzen zum vorgegebenen Text bestehen, sie können aber auch aus einer einzelnen Notiz ganze neue Welten erstehen lassen. Obwohl das Genesis-Apokryphon bereits 1956 veröffentlicht wurde6 und in den damals veröffentlichten Kolumnen II und XIX–XXII viel haggadisches Material, insbesondere zu Lamech, Noah und Henoch (Kol. II) und Abraham, Sara und Melkisedek (XIX–XXII) zu finden war, hat sich die Qumranforschung eher dem Bereich der Halacha zugewandt.7 Nur wenige hinzugefügte haggadische Elemente finden sich in den zu „Rewritten Scripture“ zu rechnenden Pentateuchhandschriften 4Q1588 und 4Q164–167.9 Ein völlig anderes Bild ergibt sich z.B. beim GenApok. Die haggadischen Erweiterungen reichen also von der Einfügung weniger Zeilen, wie zu Ex 15,20 in 4Q365,10 bis hin zu umfangreichen Ausgestaltungen wie im Fall des GenApok. Andere Texte öffnen ganze neue Welten, ausgehend von einer einzigen Information aus, wie Gen 5,24 im Blick auf Henoch oder Gen 6,1–4 für die Giganten. Manchmal genügt ein einziges Wort (Gen 12,11: „du bist eine schöne Frau“), um daraus ein Beschreibungslied (wasf) zu machen (GenApok). Eine zentrale Stelle wird in diesem Abriss das GenApok einnehmen. Zwei Bereiche werden im Mittelpunkt stehen: Lamech-Noah und Abram-Sara. Gleiches Recht hätte das Jubiläenbuch verdient, das in den Qumranfunden in 14

6 Nahman Avigad/Yigael Yadin, A Genesis Apocryphon. A Scroll from the Wilderness of Judaea (Jerusalem: The Magnes Press of the Hebrew University and Heikhal Ha-Sefer, 1956). 7 So gibt es in der Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls, hg. von Lawrence H. Schiffman und James C. VanderKam (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000) zwar einen Artikel zu „Legal Works“ (Lawrence H. Schiffman, I, 479–480), aber keinen entsprechenden zum haggadischen Bereich. Allein im Artikel „Targumim“ (Uwe Gleßmer, II, 915–918) findet sich der Hinweis auf „Haggadic elements“ (918, im Blick auf GenApok und Jub „rewritten biblical narratives“); auch Lange/Mittmann-Richert, „List“, verwenden den Begriff „Haggada“ oder „haggadisch“ nicht, und führen z.B. GenApok unter „Parabiblical Texts“ – „Rewritten Bible“ auf (122), unter „Historical Texts and Tales“ neben den 4Q Historical Texts (4Q322a.332.333.468e) lediglich 4Q242 (Gebet des Nabonid), 4Q550.550a–e (Gebet der Esther) und die Tobithandschriften (4Q196–200); Stökl Ben Ezra, Qumran 215 verwendet „Aggada“ nur im Blick auf rabbinische Texte. 8 John M. Allegro, Qumrân Cave 4 I (4Q158–4Q186) (DJDJ 5; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968) 1–6; siehe dazu John Strugnell, „Notes en marge du volume V des ‚Discoveries in the Judaean Desert of Jordan‘“ (RevQ 7 [1970] 163–276 [168–175]); zu Fragm. 14 siehe 176. 9 Emanuel Tov/Sidney White, „Reworked Pentateuch“, in Harold Attridge u.a. (Hg.), Qumran Cave 4, VIII Parabiblical Texts (DJD 13; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994) 187–351; siehe Daniel K. Falk, The Parabiblical Texts. Strategies for Extending the Scriptures among the Dead Sea Scrolls (Companion to the Qumran Scrolls 8; London: T&T Clark, 2007). 10 Emanuel Tov/Sidney White, „4QReworked Pentateuch“, in Harold Attridge u.a. (Hg.), Qumran Cave 4, VII Parabiblical Texts, Part 1 (DJD 13; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994) 255– 318 (269–272).

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fragmentarischen hebräischen Handschriften erhalten geblieben ist und in Qumrantexten zitiert wird,11 aber wegen seines Umfangs nur paradigmatisch herangezogen werden kann. Ebenfalls nur mit Beispielen vertreten sind die Ezechiel und Jeremia zugeschriebenen pseudoprophetischen Texte. Die Darstellung der Geschichte Israels nach dem Bild der Damaskusschrift liefert reichhaltiges haggadisches Material, von Reiz ist das Gebet Nabonids, das eine Variante zum Danielbuch liefert. Von besonderem Interesse können haggadische Hinzufügungen zur Begründung halachischer Fragen sein. Nur beispielhaft einbezogen werden „Testamente“, obwohl sie viel haggadisches Material enthalten, das weit über „biblische“ Vorgaben hinausgeht. So entsteht aus der Genealogie Moses und Aarons in Ex 6,16–23 eine ganze Literatur in aramäischer Sprache, die deren Vorfahren zugeschrieben wird: Levi (Ex 6,16) – Qahat (Ex 6,16.18) – Amram (Ex 6,18.20). Zunächst des Urgroßvaters TestLevi, dann des Großvaters TestQahat, und schließlich die Visionen des Amram, des Vaters von Mirjam, Aaron und Mose. Alle drei Vorfahren sprechen Letzte Worte an die Kinder, die paränetischen Charakter haben und hierfür z.T. Elemente eines Licht-Finsternis-Dualismus benutzen. Alle Texte sind in die erste Hälfte des 2. Jh.s v.Chr. zu datieren und stammen aus einem priesterlichen Milieu. Schon von ihrer Entstehungszeit her sind sie „vor-qumran-essenisch“, und haben möglicherweise Einfluss auf die dualistische LichtFinsternis-Vorstellung in Texten des yaḥad gehabt. Ebenfalls nicht eigens behandelt werden die Apokalypsen, die, oft nur auf wenigen Wörtern der „biblischen“ Überlieferung fußend, ganze Literaturen und Welten hervorgebracht haben. Am ausgeprägtesten sind z.B. die HenochApokalypsen, die, von Gen 5,24 ausgehend, Henoch zu einer himmlischen Gestalt machen, die alle Geheimnisse des Himmels, der Erde und der Unterwelt kennt. Das mit der Henochüberlieferung verbundene „Buch der Giganten“ geht von der rätselhaften Notiz in Gen 6,1–4 aus. Weiter ließen sich viele biblischen Gestalten zugeschriebene Visionen nennen. Sie alle sind Fortschreibungen „biblischer“ Texte, aber meist ohne Anhalt an „biblischen“ Vorgaben. Dabei gibt es manche Übergangsbereiche. Dass z.B. die letzte „Vision“ in 4Esr 14,1–48 die Wiederherstellung der 24 „biblischen“ und der 70 „außerbiblischen“ Schriften schildert, hat gewiss mit der Rolle des historischen Esra beim Neubeginn nach der Rückkehr aus dem babylonischen Exil zu tun. Die Targume zu Hiob 4Q157 und 11Q10 und Leviticus 4Q156 bieten keine haggadischen Erweiterungen.

11

CD 16,3 (4Q228) und möglicherweise Jub 2,2 in 1QHa IX,10–13; siehe Hermann Lichtenberger, Studien zum Menschenbild in Texten der Qumrangemeinde (SUNT 15; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1980) 164 A2.

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II. Haggadische Zusätze in Pentateuchhandschriften12 1. 4Q364, Fragm. 3, II 1–6p: Rebekkas Trost Gen 28,6 geht offenbar „Rebecca’s address to the departing Jacob and Isaac’s consolation of her“13 voraus. Ihre Worte entsprechen dem Segen Isaaks: (1) ihn, du wirst sehen [...] (2) du wirst in Frieden sehen [...] (3) deinen Tod, und [deinen] Augen [...] (4) deine beiden. Und er (scil. Isaak?) rief [Rebekka?] ihr alle [diese] Wor[te] (6) hinter Jakob, ihrem Sohn

2. Lied Miriams 4Q365 Fragm. 6a II und 6c 1–714 Ebenfalls als Entsprechung zum Lied des Mose Ex 15,1–19 kann die Erweiterung von Ex 15,20–21, des Lieds Miriams und der Frauen, gelten: (1) du hast verachtet [...] (2) denn die Erhabenheit von [...] (3) groß bist du, ein Retter [...] (4) die Hoffnung des Feindes ging zugrunde, und verg[essen?...] (5) sie kamen um in gewaltigen Wassern, der Feind (bzw. die Feinde) [...] (6) und erhebe den, der erhebt, [Er]lösung gabst du [...] (7) [der t]ut Erhabenes.

Das Lied Miriams schließt sich an Ex 15,20–21 an: „Und Miriam, die Prophetin, die Schwester Aarons, nahm die Pauke in ihre Hand, und es folgten ihr alle Frauen mit Pauken und Reigentanz. Und Miriam sang ihnen zu: Singet JHWH, denn er hat sich hoch erhaben gezeigt, Pferd und seinen Reiter warf er ins Meer“.15

Während MT Miriam und die Frauen lediglich Ex 15,1 aus dem Moselied zitieren lässt, bietet 4Q165 ein eigenes Lied der Miriam, von dem der Schluss erhalten ist (Zeile 7 mit vacat). Zeile 8 setzt dann mit Ex 15,22 fort. Das Lied dürfte sich an das Moselied angelehnt haben, wie aus den „gewaltigen Wassern“ hervorgeht (Ex 15,10 im Moselied, Zeile 5 im Lied der Miriam). Die Tradition, dass Miriam ein eigenes Lied gegenüber dem Moselied hat, findet sich in Philos Schilderung der Vita Contemplativa der Therapeuten (Contempl. 87–88) bei ihrer Nachtfeier.16

12 Zur Problematik der Benennung von 4Q364–367 siehe Emanuel Tov, „From 4QReworked Pentateuch to 4QPentateuch“, in Mladen Popović (Hg.), Authoritative Scriptures in Ancient Judaism (SJSJ 141; Leiden/Boston, MA: Brill, 2010) 73–91. 13 Tov, „Pentateuch“ 84. 14 DJD 13, 269–271. 15 In Fragm. 6b, 5–6 erhaltene Wörter kursiv. 16 Siehe Falk, Parabiblical Texts 116.

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III. Haggada und Halacha – Haggada dient als Begründung für Halacha 1. 4Q265 Fragm. 7, II,11–17 Adam und Eva im Paradies17 Zur Begründung von Lev 12,2–5 berichtet Jub 3,8–12: „(8) In der ersten Woche ist geschaffen worden Adam und seine Seite, seine Frau. Und in der zweiten Woche zeigte er sie ihm. Und deswegen ist gegeben das Gebot, sieben Tage zu beachten für das Männliche und für das Weibliche zweimal sieben Tage in Unreinheit. (9) Und nachdem vollendet waren für Adam 40 Tage auf der Erde, auf welcher er geschaffen worden war, brachten wir ihn in den Garten Eden, damit er bebaue und bewahre. Und seine Frau aber brachten wir am 80. Tag. Und aus diesem Lande kam sie in den Garten Eden. (10) Und deswegen ist geschrieben ein Gebot auf den Tafeln des Himmels in Bezug auf die Gebärende: Wenn sie ein Männliches geboren hat, soll sie sieben Tage bleiben in ihrer Unreinheit – entsprechend den anfänglichen sieben Tagen. Und 30 Tage und drei soll sie bleiben im Blut ihrer Reinheit. Und alles Heilige soll sie nicht berühren. Ins Heiligtum soll sie nicht hineingehen, bis wenn sie vollendet hat die Tage, die bei einem Männlichen (angeordnet sind). (11) Und was das Weibliche betrifft: Zweimal sieben Tage entsprechend den zweimal sieben anfänglichen ihrer Unreinheit. 60 Tage und sechs Tage soll sie bleiben im Blute ihrer Reinheit. Und es sollen sein insgesamt 80 Tage. (12) Und als sie beendet hatte diese 80 Tage, brachten wir sie in den Garten Eden. Denn dieser ist heilig unter allem Land. Und jeder Baum, der gepflanzt ist in ihm, heilig ist er“.18

In 4Q265 Fragm. 7, II,11–1719 begegnet dieselbe haggadische Begründung einer Halacha:20

17 Joseph M. Baumgarten, „Purification after Childbirth and the Sacred Garden in 4Q265 and Jubilees“, in: George J. Brooke (Hg.), Proceedings of the First Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies, Paris 1992 (Leiden: Brill, 1994) 3–10; ders., „Scripture and Law in 4Q265“, in Michael E. Stone/Esther G. Chazon (Hg.), Biblical Perspectives: Early Use and Interpretation of the Bible in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Proceedings of the First International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 12–14 May, 1996 (STDJ 28; Leiden u.a.: Brill, 1998) 25–33 (27). Florentino García Martínez/Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls. Study Edition, Volume One 1Q1– 4Q273 (Leiden u.a.: Brill, 1997) 548–551. 18 Übersetzung Klaus Berger, Das Buch der Jubiläen (JSHRZ II,3; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus Gerd Mohn, 1981) 269–575 (333–335). 19 Text und Übersetzung nach Joseph M. Baumgarten, „4Q265 4QMiscellaneous Rules“, in Joseph M. Baumgarten u.a. (Hg.), Qumran Cave 4, XXV, Halakhic Texts (DJD 35; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999) 57–78 (70–72) und ders./Lidija Novakovic, „Miscellaneous Rules 4Q265“, in James H. Charlesworth (Hg.), The Dead Sea Scrolls. Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations 3, Damascus Document II, Some Works of the Torah, and Related Documents (The Princeton Theological Seminary Dead Sea Scrolls Project; Tübingen/Louisville, KY; Mohr Siebeck/Westminster John Knox Press, 2006) 253–269 (266– 267). 20 Siehe dazu in diesem Band den Beitrag von Günther Stemberger.

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(11) […] in der erst[en] Woche […] (12) wurde er in den Garten Eden gebracht und einen Knochen […] (13) [ha]tte sie, bis sie gebracht wurde zu ih[m …] (14) [Denn] heilig ist der Garten und jede Blüte/Knospe, die darin ist, ist heilig […] (15) sie ist unrein sieben Tage wie in den Tagen ihrer Menstruationsunreinheit und drei[unddreissig Tage soll sie bleiben im Blut]21 (16) ihrer Reinheit. Und wenn sie ein Weibliches gebiert, soll sie unrein sein [zwei Wochen entsprechend ihrer Unreinheit und sechsundsechzig Tage] (17) [und sie soll blei]ben im Blut ihrer Unreinheit. Kein Heiliges [darf sie anrühren noch darf sie zum Heiligtum kommen, bis sie vollendet hat].22

Die Bestimmungen über die Unreinheit einer Frau nach der Geburt von Lev 12,2–5 werden ähnlich wie im Jubiläenbuch mit dem Zeitpunkt der Versetzung von Adam und Eva in den Garten Eden begründet. Adam wurde erst eine Woche nach seiner Schöpfung in den Garten Eden versetzt (Z. 11–12), danach wird offenbar berichtet, dass seine Frau erst eine Woche später zu ihm gebracht wurde (Z. 13). Die Verdoppelung der Zeit der Unreinheit bei der Geburt eines Mädchens ist begründet in der Tatsache, dass Eva erst eine Woche später als Adam in den Garten Eden versetzt worden war. Zentral ist sowohl in Jub als in 4Q265 die Heiligkeit des Gartens Eden, der nur im Zustand von Reinheit betreten werden darf, eben wie das Heiligtum, der Tempel. Jeder Baum (Jub 3,12) bzw. jede Blüte/Knospe (4Q265 7, II,14) darin ist heilig. 2. Noah und sein Weinbau Eine haggadische Erweiterung des „biblischen“ Berichts zur Begründung einer Halacha findet sich sowohl im GenApok als auch im Jubiläenbuch zu Gen 6,20–21: Noah pflanzt nach der Flut einen Weinberg und betrinkt sich. Lev 19,23–25 bestimmt, dass Baumfrüchte erst im vierten Jahr geerntet und im fünften Jahr verzehrt werden dürfen. Sowohl Jub 7,1–2 als auch 1QGenApok XII,13–17 lassen bereits Noah diese Bestimmung einhalten.23 Jub 7,1–2: „(1) Und in der siebenten Jahrwoche, in ihrem ersten Jahr, in diesem Jubiläum pflanzte Noah Wein an dem Berg, wo auf ihm zum Stillstand gekommen war der Kasten, dessen Name Lubar von den Bergen des Ararat. Und er brachte Frucht im vierten Jahr. Und er hütete seine Frucht. Und er pflückte seine Frucht in diesem Jahr, im siebenten Monat. (2) Und er machte daraus Wein. Und er tat ihn in ein Gefäß. Und er bewahrte (es) bis zum fünften Jahr, bis zum ersten Tag des Neumonds des ersten Monats“.24

21

Ergänzung nach Lev 12,2. Ergänzung nach Lev 12,4. 23 Siehe Cana Werman, „Qumran and the Book of Noah“, in Esther G. Chazon/Michael Stone (Hg.), Pseudepigraphic Perspectives: The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Proceedings of the International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 12–14 January, 1997 (STDJ 31; Leiden u.a.: Brill, 1999) 171–181 (177). 24 Übersetzung Berger, Jubiläen 361–362. 22

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Nach Jub 7,3–5 bringt Noah Opfer dar, die mit der Besprengung des Weins in das Feuer des Altars und Verbrennen von Weihrauch endet. Danach erst trinkt er. „Und er freute sich und trank von diesem Wein, er und seine Kinder in Freude“ (7,6). Es folgt die Erzählung seiner Trunkenheit und Schande mit der Verfluchung seines Sohnes Ham und der Segnung seines Sohnes Sem (7,7– 13). In 1QGenApok XII,13–17 berichtet Noah: „(13) Und ich pflanzte einen großen Weinberg auf dem Berg Lubar, und in vier Jahren produzierte er (14) viel Wein, und allen Wein […]. Als der erste Tag des Festes kam, am Tag eins des Festes, der im (15) [ersten] Monat ist […] in meinem Weinberg, und inmitten meines Weinbergs öffnete ich dies Gefäß, und ich begann zu trinken am ersten Tag des fünften Jahres (16) [nach der Pflanzung] des Weinbergs. An diesem Tag rief ich meine Söhne und die Söhne meiner Söhne und die Frauen von uns allen und all ihre Töchter (zusammen). Und wir versammelten uns gemeinsam und gingen (17) […Altar?] Und ich segnete/pries den Herrn des Himmels, den Höchsten Gott, den Großen Heiligen, weil er uns vor der Vernichtung gerettet hat“.25

Auch hier genießt Noah erst im fünften Jahr den Wein, danach ruft er seine gesamte Familie zusammen, und er preist/segnet Gott für die Rettung. Von seiner Trunkenheit schweigt er. Wir können zweierlei beobachten: Die Hinzufügung der zeitlichen Bestimmungen lässt Noah die Gebote von Lev 19,23–25 erfüllen, es sind haggadische Elemente zur Harmonisierung mit der Halacha. Andererseits wird im GenApok der anstößige Zug von Noahs Trunkenheit weggelassen. Der Erzähler nimmt sich die Freiheit, nicht nur durch Hinzufügung, sondern auch durch Übergehen den biblischen Bericht zu bearbeiten. 3. 4Q25226 und Noahs Kalender Zur Begründung des spezifischen Sonnenkalenders von 364 Tagen dient auch die Nachricht, Noah habe die Arche nach einem Jahr von 364 Tagen (4Q252 Fragm. 1, II, 2–3) verlassen. Noah hatte also schon den richtigen Kalender eingehalten.

25 Text und Übersetzung folgen weitgehend Daniel A. Machiela, in James H. Charlesworth (Hg.), The Dead Sea Scrolls. Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations, 8A, Genesis Apocryphon and Related Documents (The Princeton Theological Seminary Dead Sea Scrolls Project; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2018) 1–151 (84–85). 26 George Brooke, „4Q252 4QCommentary on Genesis A“, in George Brooke u.a. (Hg.), Qumran Cave 4 XVII, Parabiblical Texts, Part 3 (DJD 22; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996) 185–207; ders., „The Genre of 4Q252: From Poetry to Pesher“ (DSD 1, 1994) 160–179.

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4. Sarai und der Pharao im GenApok Dass dem Pharao durch Impotenz verwehrt wird, mit Sarai Geschlechtsverkehr zu haben, macht sie für Abram wieder als Frau rechtmäßig annehmbar (1QGenApok XX,17–18.30–31; siehe unten).27

IV. Prophetenhaggada Aus Pseudo-Ezechiel und Apokryphon des Jeremia soll jeweils ein Beispiel dargestellt werden. Für Ezechiel die sich an Ezechiel 37 anlehnende Auferstehungsvision, für Jeremia seine Begleitung der Deportierten nach Babel. 1. Ezechiel (4Q38528 und Ez 37,1–14) 4Q385 Fragm. 2, 5–10 (Parallelen in 4Q386 und 4Q388)29 (5) [Und er sprach:] Menschensohn, prophezeie über die Gebeine und sprich, dass sich Knochen an Knochen füge, und Verbindung (6) [zu Verbindung. Und es gescha]h so. Und er sprach zum zweiten Mal: Prophezeie, dass auf sie Sehnen30 (kommen) und sie überzogen werden mit Haut (7) [von oben. Und es geschah so.] Und er sprach: Prophezeie wiederum über die vier Winde des Himmels, dass sie Atem blasen (8) [in die Erschlagenen. Und es geschah so.] Und es le[bt]e auf ein großes Volk an Menschen, und sie priesen YHWH Zebaoth, de[r] (9) [ihnen Leben gegeben hat. vacat Und] ich sprach: YHWH, wann wird dies geschehen? Und YHWH sprach zu [mir: Bis] (10) [dass … T]agen ein Baum sich niederbeugt und sich aufrichtet[

Es finden sich starke Kürzungen gegenüber Ez 37,1–14; so wird die Szenerie des mit Knochen bedeckten Tales (Ez 37,1) vorausgesetzt, auch wird die Erfüllung der Prophezeiung nicht geschildert, sondern mit „und es geschah so“ (6.7.8) verkürzt wiedergegeben. Anders als in Ez 37,13–14 wird das Eintreffen der Lebendigmachung durch ein Wunder angezeigt: Ein Baum neigt sich und richtet sich wieder auf (10). Der wichtigste Unterschied aber ist, dass die Lebendigmachung des Totentales nicht wie in Ezechiel 37 metaphorisch von der Restitution des Volkes zu verstehen ist, sondern von einer „Auferweckung“ von vielen Einzelnen, nämlich der in Zeilen 2–4 genannten Frommen.31 Der Prophet spricht zu YHWH:

27

Hinweis bei Stöckl Ben Ezra, Qumran 217–218. Devorah Dimant, Qumran Cave 4 XXI, Parabiblical Texts, Part 4: Pseudo-Prophetic Texts (DJD 30; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2001) 17–51. 29 A.a.O., 23–29. 30 A.a.O., Qumran Cave 4 XXI, 24.27: „arteries“. 31 „By placing the vision of the Dry Bones in a new context, and by amplifying it with explicative additions, the author of 4Q385 transforms the vision from a metaphor about the future national restoration of Israel as a whole into a vision about the resurrection of individuals 28

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„Ich habe viele aus Israel gesehen, die deinen Namen liebten und wandelten auf den Wegen (3) [deines Herzens. Und dies], wann wird es geschehen und wie wird ihre Frömmigkeit vergolten werden? Und YHWH sprach zu (4) mir: Ich werde (es) den Kindern Israel zeigen, und sie werden erkennen, dass ich YHWH bin“.

Die Auferstehungshoffnung fügt sich ein zu den frühen Bezeugungen, wie sie ähnlich in Dan 12,2 („ewiges Leben“ nur für die Frommen) und 2Makk 7,9.11.14.23 (keine Auferstehung für den Frevler) begegnen. Devorah Dimant nennt für Pseudo-Ezekiel „four techniques, well known from other contemporary Jewish writings: omission, abbreviation, alteration, and addition“.32 Sie treffen alle auf das gewählte Beispiel zu. Zu den Auslassungen ist das Übergehen des Tales voll von Totengebeinen (Ez 37,1) zu rechnen. Zu den Kürzungen zählt das Auslassen der Beschreibung des Eintretens der Prophezeiung und deren Ersatz mit „und es geschah so“. Eine aufschlussreiche Änderung findet sich bei der Nennung der Erweckten: Aus „ein sehr großes Heer“ (Ez 37,10) wird: „Und es le[bt]e auf ein großes Volk an Menschen, und sie priesen YHWH Zebaoth, de[r (9) ihnen Leben gegeben hat]“. Zu den Ergänzungen gehört die Vision vom niedergebeugten und aufgerichteten Baum. 2. Jeremia Apocryphon of Jeremia 4Q383.385a.387.388a.389.390.387a33 gibt dem biblischen Propheten neue Züge und berichtet von Taten und Aufgaben über den „biblischen“ Bericht hinaus. Als Beispiel wählen wir 4Q385a I–II34. Fragm. 18 I a–b (1) Vacat (2) [… und es ging weg] Jeremia, der Prophet, von dem Angesicht YHWHs (3) [und ging mit den] Gefangenen, die weggeführt worden waren aus dem Land Jerusalem, und sie kamen (4) [nach Riblah zum ] König von Babel […] als schlug Nebuzaradan, der Oberste der Leibwache, (5) […] und er nahm die Gefäße des Hauses Gottes, die Priester, (6) [die Vornehmen] und die Israeliten, und führte sie nach Babel. Und es ging Jeremia, der Prophet (7) [mit ihnen bis] zum Fluss. Und er gebot, was sie tun sollten im Land [ihrer] Gefangenschaft (8) [und dass sie hören sollten] auf die Stimme Jeremias hinsichtlich der Worte, die ihm Gott geboten hatte (9) [zu tun,] und dass sie den Bund des Gottes ihrer Väter bewahren sollten im Land (10) [Babel, und nicht tun sollten], wie sie taten und ihre Könige, ihre Priester (11) [und ihre Fürsten …und ent]weiht[en den Na]men Gottes, zu [verunreinigen]

as the eschatological recompense reserved for the righteous of Israel alone“ (Dimant, Qumran Cave 4 XXI, 32). 32 A.a.O., 33. 33 A.a.O., 91–260. 34 A.a.O., 159–166.

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Fragm. 18 II (1) In Tachpanes, d[as im Land Ägypten ist] … (2) Und sie sprachen zu ihm: Befrage [doch unseretwegen Go]tt [ ….aber nicht hörte] (3) auf sie Jerem[ia so]dass er nicht ihretwegen befragte Got[t und ihretwegen erhob] (4) Flehen und Gebet. Und Jeremia stimmte an Klage [… Klagelieder] (5) [üb]er Jerusalem. vacat [Und das Wort YHWHs geschah zu] (6) Jeremia im Land Tachpanes, das im Land Äg[ypten ist, folgendermaßen: Sprich zu den] (7) Israeliten und zu den Judäern und Benjamin. [So sollst du ihnen sagen:] (8) Tag für Tag sucht meine Bestimmungen, und meine Gebote hal[tet und wandelt nicht] (9) hinter den Gö[tz]en der Völker her, denen gew[andelt sind hinterher eure Väter, denn] (10) nicht werden sie eu[ch] rett[en…] nicht

Dem „biblischen“ Bild des Jeremia wird hier hinzugefügt, dass Jeremia die nach Babel Deportierten „bis zum Fluß“ (Euphrat?) (I,6–7) begleitet und sie anhält, den Bund des Gottes ihrer Väter – anders als ihre Väter, Könige, Priester und Könige (I,10) – auch in Babel zu bewahren (I,9), und sich von den Götzen der Völker fernzuhalten. Angesichts des Endes des Königtums in Judäa und der Zerstörung des Tempels ist nun für Jeremia das Einhalten der Gebote das Entscheidende. „The prophet thus inaugurated a new era in which worship by practicing Torah commandments replaced the Temple ritual. Both the transmission of worship by practicing Torah commandments and the warning against idolatry are linked to the cessation of the Temple ritual. Jeremiah emerges from the Apocryphon as the national religious leader and teacher, whose moral and intellectual stature invest him with the authority necessary to lead his people at that crucial hour and to lay the foundations for Jewish life in exile. He thus stands in analogy to Moses“.35

V. Geschichte Israels 1. Damaskusschrift Die Mahnrede in CD I,1–VIII,21 ist reich an haggadischen Ergänzungen; zum Teil dienen sie als halachische Begründungen.36 Daraus einige Beispiele: Der Gegensatz zum „vollkommenen Wandel“ (CD II,15–16) besteht im „Nachgehen den Gedanken der Gesinnung (‫ )יצר‬der Schuld und Augen der Unzucht“. Als Beispiel werden die „Wächter des Himmels“ genannt, die in der „Verstockheit ihres Herzens“ wandelten und deshalb „fielen“, da sie nicht „die Gebote Gottes“ hielten (II,16–18). Die Größe der aus der „Unzucht“ mit den 35

A.a.O., 105. Siehe dazu Hermann Lichtenberger, „Geschichte und Heilsgeschichte in der Damaskusschrift“, in Jörg Frey/Stefan Krauter/Hermann Lichtenberger (Hg.), Heil und Geschichte. Die Geschichtsbezogenheit des Heils und das Problem der Heilsgeschichte in der biblischen Tradition und in der theologischen Deutung (WUNT 248; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009) 175– 184. 36

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Frauen der Menschen entstandenen Riesen wird, über Gen 6,4 hinausgehend, „wie Zedern und ihre Leiber wie Berge“ (II,19) beschrieben. Die Flut vernichtet „alles Fleisch, das auf dem trockenen Land war, denn es erstarb, und sie wurden, als wären sie nicht gewesen, da sie ihren Willen taten und nicht die Gebote ihres Schöpfers taten, bis sein Zorn gegen sie entbrannte“ (II,20–21). Bereits in der vorsintflutlichen Zeit sind also die Gebote Gottes gegeben und bekannt, und sie werden willentlich übertreten. Daher die berechtigte Strafe der Flut. Die „Söhne Noahs und ihre Familien“ sind ebenfalls „darin in die Irre gegangen“ und wurden deshalb ausgerottet (III,1), was über Gen 9,25–10,32 hinausgeht, und das zweite Ende der Menschheitsgeschichte gewesen wäre. „Abraham wandelte nicht darin, und er wurde als Fr[eund er]achtet, weil er die Gebote Gottes hielt und nicht den Willen seines eigenen Geistes wählte“ (III,2– 3). Auch Isaak und Jakob sind aus demselben Grund „Freunde“ (Gottes) (III,3– 4). Die „Söhne Jakobs gingen darin in die Irre“ (III,4–5) und wurden bestraft. Deren Söhne „in Ägypten wandelten in der Verstocktheit ihres Herzens“, lehnten sich gegen die „Gebote Gottes“ auf, taten was jeder für recht hielt. „Und sie aßen Blut. Da wurden ihre Männer in der Wüste ausgerottet“ (III,5–7). Gary A. Anderson sieht richtig, dass Israel hier die Übertretung eines noachitischen Gebotes unterstellt wird, das eben die strengste Strafe nach sich zieht: „Hence the exegetical invention of Israel’s consumption of blood.“37 Anders ist die Strategie bei der Sünde Davids in CD V,2–6: David hatte Dtn 17,17 „Er soll nicht viele Frauen haben“ nicht lesen können, weil die Tora in der Lade verschlossen war bis zum Auftreten Zadoks.38 Er konnte also nicht wissen, dass der König nicht mehrere Frauen haben sollte. Darum werden diese Vergehen nicht angerechnet, da es sich um eine unabsichtliche Sünde handelte. Anders bei der Ermordung des Uria, die ihm Gott vergeben musste (V,6). Dass für alle Israeliten die Einehe auf Lebenszeit gilt, lässt sich Gen 1,27 entnehmen: „Als (ein) Mann und (eine) Frau hat er sie geschaffen“ (IV,21). Das haggadische Argument dafür ist, dass die in die Arche Eintretenden „paarweise“ eingetreten sind (Gen 7,1–16). Dieses urzeitliche Gebot des paarweisen Betretens der Arche und des paarweisen Aufenthalts in ihr wird zur Begründung der Einehe. Drei Typen haggadischer Erweiterungen lassen sich also beobachten: 1. Ausschmückung (die Riesen haben die Höhe von Zedern und ihre Leiber der von Bergen); 2. Unterstellung einer schweren Sünde, die die Ausrottung alles Männlichen bedingt haben kann (Blutgenuss); 3. Entschuldigung wegen Unkenntnis einer Bestimmung (die Tora war verborgen, David konnte das Gesetz über den König und seine Frau[en] nicht kennen).

37

Gary A. Anderson, „The Status of the Torah before Sinai. Retelling of the Bible in the Damascus Covenant and the Book of Jubilees“ (DSD 1, 1994) 1–29 (18). 38 A.a.O., 18–19.

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2. Nabonid Das Gebet des Nabonid (4Q242)39 Die in Qumran erhaltenen Fragmente bieten eine ältere Fassung des in Dan 3,31–4,34 Geschilderten und von Nebukadnezar II (604–562 v.Chr.) Berichteten.40 Fragm. 1,2a,2b,3 (1) Worte des Ge[b]etes, das betete Nabonid, der König von [Babe]l, [der Groß]könig. (2) Mit schlimmer Entzündung durch das Dekret G[otte]s in Teman […] (3) war ich geschlagen sieben Jahre lang, und seit[dem] glich i[ch…] (4) und meine Sünde, er vergab sie. Ein Schutzbürger – und zwar war er ein Jude von [den Exilierten –] (5) tei[l]te mir mit und schrieb, daß ich ehren und gr[oß mach]en solle den Namen G[ottes …] (6) war ich geschlagen mit einer sch[limmen] Entzündung in Teman […] (7) sieben Jahre lang. Ich war einer, den man beten ließ [vor] Götter[n] aus Silber und Gold, (8) Holz, Stein (und) Ton, von denen [ich dach]te, daß s[ie] Götter [seien] (9) […]

Fragm. 441 (1) […] er sie verstärkte, wurde ich geheilt. (2) [Und er sagte zu mir: Siehe], du bist (wieder stark wie) eine Zeder und [für] immer gesund. […Und als] (3) mich meine Freunde […], konnte ich nicht […] (4) Wie gleichst du dem […]

Im Vergleich zur Nebukadnezar-Geschichte Dan 3,31–4,34 sind einige Züge hervorzuheben: Die unterschiedliche Erkrankung des Königs: Nebukadnezar wird „wie ein Tier“ (wahnsinnig?) (Dan 4,22.30), Nabonid hat eine „schlimme

39

Text John J. Collins, „4Q242 4QPrayer of Nabonidus ar“, in: George Brooke u.a. (Hg.), Qumran Cave 4 XVII, Parabiblical Texts, Part 3 (DJD 22; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996) 83–93; frühere Editionen: Rudolf Meyer; Das Gebet des Nabonid. Eine in den QumranHandschriften wiederentdeckte Weisheitserzählung (Sitzungsberichte der sächsischen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Leipzig, Philologisch-historische Klasse 107,3; Berlin: AkademieVerlag, 1962); Adam S. van der Woude, „Bemerkungen zum Gebet des Nabonides (4Q or Nab)“, in Mathias Delcor (Hg.), Qumrân. Sa piété, sa théologie et son milieu (BETL 46; Paris/Leuven: Gemblout/University Press, 1978) 121–129; Klaus Beyer, Die aramäischen Texte vom Toten Meer samt den Inschriften aus Palästina, dem Testament Levis aus der Kairoer Genisa, der Fastenrolle und den alten talmudischen Zitaten. Aramaistische Einleitung. Text. Übersetzung. Deutung. Grammatik/Wörterbuch. Deutsch-aramäische Wortliste. Register (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1984; künftig abgekürzt zitiert als Beyer, Texte I) 223–224; Armin Lange/Marion Sieker, „Gattung und Quellenwert des Gebets des Nabonid“, in Heinz-J. Fabry/Armin Lange/Hermann Lichtenberger (Hg.), Qumranstudien. Vorträge und Beiträge der Teilnehmer des Qumranseminars auf dem internationalen Treffen der Society of Biblical Literature, Münster, 25.–26. Juni 1993 (Schriften des Institutum Judaicum Delitzschianum 4; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1996) 3–34. 40 Übersetzung nach Lange/Sieker, „Gattung“ 12. 41 Text und Übersetzung nach Beyer, Texte I, 223–224.

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Entzündung“ (Zeile 2). Auch der Grund für die Erkrankung ist verschieden: Bei Nebukadnezar ist es Hybris (Dan 4,27), bei Nabonid der Götzendienst (Zeilen 7–8). Beide Krankheiten dauern sieben Jahre (Dan 4,27; Zeile 3). Der Name des Juden ist nach Dan 4,5 Daniel, in 4Q242 wird kein Name genannt; dass der Wahrsager-Heiler ein Jude ist, hat 4Q242 4 mit Dan 5,13 gemeinsam. Auffällig ist insbesondere der Ich-Bericht beider Texte. Die ursprüngliche Erzählung und Zuschreibung dürfte sich tatsächlich auf den letzten König Babyloniens, Nabonid (556–539 v.Chr.), beziehen, die auf den Zerstörer Jerusalems, Nebukadnezar (605–562 v.Chr.), übertragen wurde. Der namenlose Jude von 4Q242 wird zu Daniel.

VI. Das Genesis Apokryphon Die erhaltenen Teile des GenApok erzählen42 in Kol. 0 und I von der Bitte der Wächterengel und deren Zurückweisung durch Gott (vgl. äthHen 13–14), in Kol. II von Lamechs Verdacht, sein Sohn Noah könnte aus einer Verbindung mit einem gefallenen Engel stammen (vgl. äthHen 106), und von der Reise von Lamechs Vater Methusala zu dessen Vater Henoch, um Klarheit zu erhalten, sowie dessen Antwort, die Noah als künftigen Retter ankündigt (Kol. II–V). Kol.VI–VII berichtet Noah von seinem Werdegang, Kol. VIII und IX handeln von der Flut, Kol. X und XI vom Verlassen der Arche, dem Opfer und Noahs Begehen des Landes. Kol. XII schildert den Abstieg vom Ararat und bis Kol. XV einen Traum Noahs, den er Sem erzählt. Kol. XVI und XVII berichten von Noahs Teilen der Erde unter seine Nachkommen. Kol. XIX–XX erzählen von Abrams Aufenthalt in Kanaan und Ägypten mit der Gefährdung Sarais. Nach der Trennung von Lot folgt Abrams Reise durch sein Land, Kol. XX der Krieg mit Königen, die Begegnung mit Melchisedek und Verhandlungen mit dem König von Sodom. Der erhaltene Teil der Rolle43 endet mit einer Vision Abrams, in der ihm Gott erscheint, Abrams Wanderungen nennt, ihm die Zusicherung seiner Begleitung, seines Schutzes und seiner Nachkommenschaft macht. Abram antwortet darauf mit der Klage seiner Kinderlosigkeit. In der Lamech-Noah- und in der Abram-Sarai-Erzählung finden sich eine ganze Reihe über den „Bibel“text hinausgehende erotische Elemente.44 42

Siehe Machiela, Genesis Apocryphon 2–4. Auf den Photographien bei Avigad/Yadin, Genesis Apocryphon, ist deutlich zu erkennen, dass das an Kol. XX angenähte Lederstück abgeschnitten wurde. 44 George W. E. Nickelsburg, „Patriarchs Who Worry About Their Wives: A Haggadic Tendency in the Genesis Apocryphon“, in Jacob Neusner/Alan J. Avery-Peck (Hg.), George W. E. Nickelsburg in Perspective: An Ongoing Dialogue of Learning. Volume One (Leiden/Boston, MA: Brill, 2003) 177–212; Ida Fröhlich, „Narrative Exegesis in the Dead Sea Scrolls“, in Michael E. Stone/Esther G. Chazon (Hg.), Biblical Perspectives: Early Use and Interpretation of the Bible in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Proceedings of the First 43

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1. Die Geburt des Noah a. Die Geburt des Noah nach GenApok und verwandten Texten Aus der knappen Notiz Gen 5,28–29, dass Lamech im Alter von 128 Jahren einen Sohn zeugte, den er Noah nannte, wird eine dramatische Geburtsgeschichte gesponnen. Auf die Besonderheit Noahs (‫ )נח‬weist freilich schon die Namenserklärung in Gen 5,29 hin: „Der wird uns trösten (‫ )נחם‬von unserer Arbeit und der Mühsal unserer Hände vom Acker, den JHWH verflucht hat.“ Der Bericht Lamechs über die Geburt seines Sohnes Noah hat eine auffällige Parallele in äthHen 106,1–107,3.45 (106,1) „Und nach einigen Tagen nahm mein Sohn Methusala seinem Sohn Lamech eine Frau. Und sie wurde von ihm schwanger und gebar einen Sohn. (2) Und sein Körper war weiß wie Schnee und rot wie eine Rosenblüte, und das Haar seines Hauptes und seine Locken weiß wie Wolle, und seine Augen (waren) schön. Und wenn er seine Augen öffnete, erhellten sie das ganze Haus wie die Sonne, so daß das ganze Haus überall hell wurde. (3) Und als er sich von der Hand der Hebamme aufrichtete, öffnete er seinen Mund und sprach mit dem Herrn der Herrlichkeit“.

Lamech fürchtet sich und er eilt zu seinem Vater Methusala: (106,5) „Ich habe einen sonderbaren Sohn gezeugt; er ist nicht wie ein Mensch, sondern er gleicht den Kindern der Engel des Himmels, und seine Art ist anders, und er ist nicht wie wir, und seine Augen (sind) wie die Strahlen der Sonne und sein Angesicht herrlich. (106,6) Und mir scheint, daß er nicht von mir, sondern von den Engeln stammt.“

Lamech bittet seinen Vater, zum Großvater Henoch zu gehen, um die Wahrheit über das Kind zu erfahren. Methusala berichtet Henoch, was Lamech widerfahren war und schmückt dessen Schilderung des Knaben noch aus. Henoch verweist auf die Sünde von Gen 6,1: „Und eine große Vernichtung wird über die ganze Erde kommen, und eine Wasserflut wird kommen und große Vernichtung ein Jahr lang. (106,16) Aber dieser Sohn, der euch geboren ist – wird auf Erden übrig bleiben; und seine drei Kinder werden mit ihm gerettet werden“.

Methusala kann seinen Sohn Lamech beruhigen: (107,2) „Und nun gehe, mein Sohn, verkündige deinem Sohn Lamech, daß dieser Sohn, der geboren worden ist, wahrhaftig sein Sohn ist und (daß dies) kein Betrug ist“.

International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 12–14 May, 1996 (STDJ 28; Leiden u.a.: Brill, 1998) 81–99. 45 Übersetzung Siegbert Uhlig, Das Äthiopische Henochbuch (JSHRZ V,6; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus Gerd Mohn, 1984) 475–780 (743–749).

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Die Dramatik tritt noch stärker in der Erzählung von 1QGenApok II,1–2546 hervor, insofern Lamech seine Frau Batenosh47 verdächtigt, mit den Wächterengeln, den Heiligen und den Nephilin verkehrt zu haben (II,1). Er beschwört sie, „beim Höchsten, beim Herrn der Größe, beim König der Ewigkeiten“ (II,4), ihm die Wahrheit zu sagen, ob (die Schwangerschaft) von einem der „Söhne des Himmels“ (II,5–7) stammt. Lamech berichtet weiter: „Dann sprach meine Frau Batenosh zu mir mit großem Nachdruck, und sie weinte […] und sagte: O mein Bruder und o mein Herr48, denke doch selbst an die Wonne […] in der Hitze des Moments und mein Atmen im Inneren. Denn ich berichte dir alles in Wahrheit. […] alles.“ „Und mein Herz veränderte sich sehr in mir“ (II,8–11).

Batenosh wendet sich an ihren Mann Lamech: „O mein Herr, o mein Bruder […] meine Wonne! Ich schwöre dir bei dem Großen Heiligen, bei dem König des Hi[mmels], dass dieser Same von dir ist und von dir diese Schwangerschaft und von dir die Pflanzung [dieser] Frucht […] und nicht von irgendeinem Fremden, noch von irgendeinem der Wächterengel (Irin), und nicht von irgendeinem der Söhne des Himm[els]“ (II,13–16).49

Zum Abschluss versichert sie noch einmal, die Wahrheit zu sagen (II,18). Lamech berichtet nun, dass er sich an seinen Vater Methusala wandte mit der Bitte, von Henoch die Wahrheit zu erfahren (II,19–25). Henoch bestätigt seinem Sohn Methusala, dass dieses Kind „von Lamech, deinem Sohn“ ist (V,4; vgl. auch 10). Und nun werden, ähnlich wie in äthHen, Züge des Kindes beschrieben: „dies Kind ist ein Licht“ (V,13). Auch wenn der Anfang nicht erhalten ist, so wird doch deutlich, dass die Auseinandersetzung zwischen Lamech und seiner Frau Batenosh über deren Schwangerschaft im Mittelpunkt der Erzählung steht. Im Unterschied zu äthHen 106,1–107,3 ist in 1QGenApok Noah noch nicht geboren, sondern das Misstrauen Lamechs gilt der für ihn offenbar unerwarteten Schwangerschaft.

46 Text und Übersetzung folgen weitgehend Machiela, Genesis Apocryphon 28–35. Siehe auch Daniel A. Machiela, The Dead Sea Genesis Apocryphon. A New Text and Translation with Introduction and Special Treatment of Columns 13–17 (STDJ 79; Leiden/Boston, MA: Brill, 2009). Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Genesis Apocryphon of Qumran Cave 1 (1Q20). A Commentary (BibOr 18/B; Rom: Editrice Pontificio Instituto Biblico, 20043); Text und Übersetzung von Beyer, Texte I, 167–169, wurden herangezogen. 47 In äthHen hat die Frau Lamechs keinen Namen, Jub kennt ebenfalls Batenosh als Betenos. 48 Beyer, Texte I, 167–168: „deine Verleumdung wegen meiner Schwangerschaft [… Laß erst zurückkehren …] vor der Zeit und meine Seele in ihre Scheide, so werde ich alles wahrheitsgemäß [dir berichten…]“. 49 Siehe „the triple assertion that Lamech is the father and a triple denial that the child has not been conceived by an angel“ bei Nickelsburg, „Patriarchs“ 183.

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Und sein Verdacht richtet sich, wie in äthHen, auf Vorgänge nach Gen 6,1–2. Batenosh jedoch erinnert ihn an den Orgasmus, den sie mit ihm erlebt hatte.50 Beide Charaktere, Batenosh und Lamech, werden in einer geradezu tragischen Ausnahmesituation geschildert, die sie allein nicht lösen können. Darum erfolgt der Rekurs Lamechs auf seinen Vater Methusala und Großvater Henoch. Batenosh hat keine derartigen Helfer, ihr bleibt, die Wahrheit zu sagen und ihre Liebe zu ihrem Mann zu beteuern („o mein Bruder, o mein Herr“ II,9, bzw. „o mein Herr, o mein Bruder“ II,13). Solche Töne finden sich im Munde Lamechs nicht. Es gibt auch gemeinsame Züge mit der Geburt Melkisedeks nach dem slavischen Henochbuch (70–72). Melkisedek ist der Sohn Nirs, des 2. Sohns Methusalas nach Lamech, und seiner Frau Sopanima, und damit Neffe von Lamech.51 Dazu gehören die unerklärliche Schwangerschaft der Sopanima und die Verdächtigung gegen die Frau. Das Kind ist mit übernatürlichen Gaben ausgestattet („preist den Herrn“ nach seiner Geburt). Gemeinsam ist auch die Anrede der Sopanima an ihren Mann Nir: „mein Herr“52. Noah wird in der Flut bewahrt – Methusala wird im Garten Eden aufbewahrt, bis er zur Zeit Abrams wieder erscheinen kann. Die Familie HenochMethusala-Lamech wird also nicht nur in Noah erhalten, sondern auch im Sohn von Noahs Bruder Nir, Melchisedek. Die Menschheit wird in der Zeit nach dem Diluvium durch Noah und seine Familie fortgeführt, das Priestertum Nirs durch Melchisedek. b. Die Geburt Noahs nach 4Q534–53653 und Astrologie Der vorläufig von Jean Starcky 1964 unter dem Titel „Un texte messianique araméen de la grotte 4 de Qumrân“54 veröffentlichte Text erweist sich gerade in Zusammenhang mit äthHen 106,1–107,3 und 1QGenApok II,1–28 als Bericht über die Geburt Noahs. Insbesondere die Charakteristika seines Aussehens und die künftige Rolle des Kindes führen auf Noah. 50 Siehe Nickelsburg, „Patriarchs“ 183–184. Der Einwand Nickelsburgs, die Erinnerung an das gemeinsame sexuelle Erleben sei kein Beweis für die Treue Batenoshs, ist nicht überzeugend: „The point is a bit obscure. The issue is not whether Lamech and his wife had been in bed together, but whether this child was conceived under other circumstances“ (183). Batenosh besteht darauf, dass dieses besondere Kind ein Kind der Liebe mit Lamech, und mit niemand anderem ist. Anders ist die hoch erotische Sprache nicht zu verstehen. 51 Siehe Christfried Böttrich, Das slavische Henochbuch (JSHRZ V,7; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1995) 777–1040 (1009–1036). 52 Hinweis Böttrich, Slavisches Henochbuch zu slavHen 71,7, 1020, 7b. 53 Text bei Émile Puech, in ders., Qumrân Grotte 4, XXII,1 4Q529–549 (DJD 31; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2001) 129–170. 54 Jean Starcky, „Un texte messianique araméen de la grotte 4 de Qumrân“, in Mémorial du cinquantenaire 1914–1964. École des Langues Orientales Anciennes de l’Institut Catholique de Paris (Travaux de L’Institut Catholique 10; Paris: Bloud & Gay, 1964) 51–66.

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Am umfangreichsten ist 4Q534 erhalten geblieben, 4Q535 und 536 sind noch fragmentarischer, zwischen den drei Handschriften gibt es gegenseitige Ergänzungen. 4Q534 Fragm. 1 I,1–1155 (1) der Hand [und] die beiden K[n]ie […] ein rötlicher Fleck (2) sein Haar [und] linsenartige (Flecke) werden auf [seinem Angesicht? sein] vacat (3) Und kleine Flecke werden auf den Oberschenkeln sein, einer vom andern verschieden. Und Erkenntnis seines Herzens hat er. (4) In seiner Jugend, er gilt, gescheit56 zu sein, [und wie ein M]ensch, der kein Wissen kennt bis zu dem Zeitpunkt, an dem (5) er die drei Bücher kennengelernt hat. Vacat (6) Dann wird er klug sein und die We[ge der Weise]n, der Schauenden, die kommen zu seinen Knien. (7) Wegen seines Vaters und seiner Vorväter werden die Geheimnisse der Brüder ihn schlagen (?). Bei ihm werden sein Rat und seine Klugheit sein. (8) [Und] er wird die Geheimnisse der Menschen kennen, und seine Weisheit wird zu allen Völkern kommen, und er wird die Geheimnisse aller Lebenden kennen. (9) [Und al]le ihre Berechnungen über ihn werden zunichtewerden. Und das Heer aller Lebenden wird groß sein, (10) [und eintreffen werden seine Be]rechnungen, weil er der Erwählte Gottes ist. Sein Geburtstag und der Hauch seines Atems (11) [werden…und seine Be]rechnungen werden für immer eintreffen. vacat

Zunächst werden äußere Merkmale genannt: Muttermal (1), linsenartige Flecke im Gesicht (2), Flecke an den Oberschenkeln (3). Es folgen kognitive Fähigkeiten: Er wird schon in seiner Jugend intelligent sein (3–4), aber erst weise, wenn er „die drei Bücher“ kennengelernt hat (4–5). Dann wird er klug sein, und man wird zu ihm kommen (6), aber er wird auch Feindschaft erfahren (7). Er wird die Geheimnisse der Menschen kennen, und seine Weisheit wird zu allen Völkern kommen (8). Die feindlichen Pläne gegen ihn werden zunichte (9), aber seine Pläne werden eintreffen, weil er der Erwählte Gottes ist (10– 11). Von seiner unvergleichlichen Weisheit spricht auch 4Q536 Fragm. 2 I und 3: „er offenbart Geheimnisse wie die Engel“ (‫)יגלא רזין כעליונין‬. Was die physiognomischen Charakteristika betrifft, so finden sich Parallelen dazu in den Horoskopen 4Q186 und 4Q561. c. Astrologische Bezüge in 4Q186 und 4Q561 In 4Q186 werden Gestirnkonstellationen mit physiognomischen Besonderheiten der Geborenen und ihrem Lebensschicksal verbunden. Aus den in der fragmentarischen Handschrift 4Q186 erhaltenen vier Horoskopen soll je ein positives und ein negatives angeführt werden. Das Aussehen und das Schicksal eines Menschen entscheidet sich an der Zahl seiner ihm bei der Geburt (aufgrund der Sternkonstellation) zugewiesenen Anteile „am Haus des Lichts“ oder „am 55

Text Puech, Grotte 4, 132–144. Sofern die Lesungen bei Beyer, Texte I, 269–270, mit Puech übereinstimmen, lehnt sich die Übersetzung an Beyer an. 56 Siehe Puech, Grotte 4, 137.

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Haus der Finsternis“. Diese Anteile summieren sich immer zu neun, so dass kein Gleichgewicht von Licht und Finsternis entstehen kann. 4Q186 II,5—957 „(5) und seine Schenkel sind lang und dünn, und die Zehen seiner Füße sind (6) dünn und lang, und er stammt aus der ,zweiten Säuleʻ, (7) und er hat Geist(anteile) im Haus des Lichts sechs und drei in der Grube der Finsternis. Und das ist seine Geburtskonstellation, in der er geboren ist (9) im Fuß des Stiers. Arm wird er sein, und das ist sein Tier(kreiszeichen): der Stier“.

4Q186 III,3—6 „(3) und seine Zähne stehen hoch nach außen, und die Finger (4) seiner Hände sind dick, und seine Schenkel sind dick und jeder voller Haare, (5) und die Zehen seiner Füße sind dick und kurz. Und er hat Geist(anteile) im Haus [der Finsternis a]cht, und einen aus dem Haus des Lichts“.

4Q561 Fragm. 1, I, 1–558 „Seine Augen (2) werden sowohl (ganz) weiß als auch (ganz) schwarz sein. Seine Nase wird scharf geschnitten (3) [und] schön sein. Seine Zähne werden gleichmäßig sein. Und sein Bart (4) wird dünn sein, [aber] nicht (zu) sehr. Seine Glieder (5) werden glatt sein und sowohl gegliedert als auch dick“.

In den Horoskopen werden nicht nur Lebensschicksale vorhergesagt, sondern es spiegeln sich darin auch Schönheitsideale, wie ebenmäßige Zähne, schlanke Glieder, schlanke lange Finger und Zehen. In der Beschreibung Sarais im GenApok werden einige Elemente begegnen. d. Noahs Geburt und Kindheit in 4Q535 Fragm. 3 Eine Beschreibung von Noahs Geburt und Kindheit findet sich in 4Q535 Fragm. 3.59 (1) […] er geboren. Und sie sind zusammen bis zum Abend [...] (2) [… zur Stunde fün]f in der Nacht wird er geboren und er kommt heraus hei[l ...] (3) […] er wiegt dreihundertfünfzig Sche[kel (und einen?)] (4) [… die Ta]ge, er schläft bis zur Hälfte [… T]age [...] (5) […] bei

57

John M. Allegro, Qumrân Cave 4 I, 88–91. Übersetzung nach Klaus Beyer, Die aramäischen Texte vom Toten Meer samt den Inschriften aus Palästina, dem Testament Levis aus der Kairoer Genisa, der Fastenrolle und den alten talmudischen Zitaten. Aramaistische Einleitung. Text. Übersetzung. Deutung. Grammatik/Wörterbuch. Deutsch-aramäische Wortliste. Register. Ergänzungsband (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1994; nachfolgend Beyer, Texte II) 125. 59 Puech, Grotte 4, 157–159; Beyer, Texte II, 125–126. 58

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Tage bis er vollendet J[ahre acht60] (6) […] sie bewegt sich von ihm weg, [und] na[ch acht Jahren]61

Hier werden die nächtliche Geburtsstunde genannt und sein gesundes Verlassen des Mutterschoßes (3) sowie sein Gewicht. 350 Schekel entsprechen bei Ansatz eines Schekel mit 11,4 Gramm 3,99 Kilogramm.62 Bis zu seinem achten Lebensjahr schläft er die Hälfte des Tages. Subjekt in Zeile 6 könnte die Mutter des Kindes63 (d.h. Noahs) sein. 2. Abram und Sarai im GenApok Auch in der andern „erotischen“ Szene des GenApok spielt der Mann eine negative Rolle, während die Frau alles überstrahlt: 1QGenApok XIX,10– XX,32.64 Es handelt sich um die Nacherzählung und Ausgestaltung65 von Gen 12,10– 20, die zugleich umgesetzt ist in eine Ich-Erzählung Abrams. Nach dem Eintritt in Ägypten (XIX,10–13) hat Abram einen Traum: XIX,14 „Und ich, Abram, hatte einen Traum in der Nacht meines Eintretens in das Land Ägypten, und ich schaute in meinem Traum, und siehe, eine Zeder und eine Palme (15) wuchsen zusammen aus einer Wurzel. Und Leute kamen und wollten die Zeder fällen und entwurzeln und die Palme allein stehen lassen. (16) Und die Palme schrie und sagte: ‚Fällt nicht die Zeder, denn wir beide sind aus einer Wurzel gewachsen!‘ Und die Zeder wurde stehen gelassen wegen der Palme (17) und nicht [gefällt]“.66

Abram berichtet seiner Frau von diesem Traum, der ihn fürchten macht, und erzählt ihn ihr auf ihre Bitte hin. (19) „Und ich sagte: ‚[…] dieser Traum [bedeutet], daß sie die Absicht haben werden, mich zu töten und dich in Ägypten (allein) am Leben lassen. Dieses ist die ganze Gunst, (20) die du mir erweisen mußt: An jedem Ort, an den wir kommen, sage von mir: Er ist mein Bruder!, so werde ich deinetwegen am Leben bleiben und meine Seele wird deinetwegen gerettet werden“.67

60 Puech, Grotte 4,157 ergänzt nach 4Q536 Fragm. 1,2 „acht“; Beyer, Texte II, 126 liest Dual „zwei“. 61 Ergänzung Puech, Grotte 4, 157 nach 4Q536 Fragm. 1,3. 62 Puech, Grotte 4,158; dort weitere Rechnungen. 63 A.a.O., 159. 64 Machiela, Genesis Apocryphon 120–135. 65 Zu den Ausgestaltungen der Personen siehe Thierry Legrand, „Patchwork et dentelle bibliques: la relecture de Genèse 12,8–13,4 dans l`Apocryphe de la Genèse (1QapGen XIX 7–XXI 4)“, in Daniel Frey/Christian Grappe/Madeleine Wieger (Hg.), Usages et mésusages de l`Écriture. Approches interdisciplinaires de la référance scriptuaire (Strasbourg: Presses Universitaires de Strasbourg, 2014) 51–67 (59–62). 66 Übersetzung Beyer, Texte I, 172–173. 67 A.a.O., 173. Die Kursivierung zeigt die aramäische Übersetzung des Hebräischen aus Gen 12,10–20 an.

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Abram macht ihr klar, dass der Pharao von Soan sie ihm wegnehmen und ihn töten werde. Sarai weint darüber und möchte nicht nach Soan gehen, damit sie keiner sehe, was auch fünf Jahre hindurch gelingt (XIX,21–23). Nach fünf Jahren kommen drei Männer von den Großen Ägyptens zu Abram „wegen meiner Worte und meiner Weisheit“68 (XIX,24). Abram liest ihnen das „Buch der Worte Henochs“ (XIX,25) vor. Die Unterweisung wird abgeschlossen durch Essen und Trinken (XIX,26–27). Offenbar haben sie Sarai gesehen und beschreiben nun dem Pharao ihre Schönheit (vgl. Gen 12,15). a. Die Schönheit Sarais69 (XX,2) „Wie vollkommen und schön ist an ihr der Ausdruck ihres Gesichtes! Und wie (3) ganz schwarz und (schön) geschnitten ist an ihr das Haar ihres Hauptes! Wie schön sind an ihr ihre Augen! Und wie anmutig ist an ihr ihre Nase! Und wie zart (4) ist die ganze Blüte des Gesichtes! Und wie schön ist an ihr ihre Brust! Und wie schön ist an ihr all ihr Weiß! Wie schön sind ihre Arme! Und wie schmal sind ihre Hände! (5) Wie lauter ist der ganze Anblick ihrer Hände! Wie schön sind ihre Handflächen! Und wie lang und zierlich sind alle Finger ihrer Hände! Wie schön sind ihre Füße! (6) Und wie vollkommen sind ihre Beine! Und alle Jungfrauen und Bräute, die ein Brautgemach betreten, sind weniger schön als sie. Und mehr als alle (7) Frauen ist sie an Schönheit schön und hoch in Bezug auf ihre Schönheit (steht sie) über ihnen allen. Und neben all dieser Schönheit besitzt sie (auch) viel Weisheit. Und die Zartheit ihrer Hände (8) ist schön“.70

Ich schließe die stichische Übersetzung Gerhard Wilhelm Nebes71 an: (2) „Wie (wohl-)geformt und schön ist an ihr ihr Gesichtsausdruck. Und wie (3) {und wie} ist schöner Flor an ihr ihr Kopfhaar. Wie schön sind gerade an ihr ihre Augen. Und wie begehrenswert an ihr ist ihre Nase. Und die ganze Blüte (4) ihres Gesichtes wie ist sie ein Glanz (?). Und (?) wie schön ist an ihr ihre Brust. Und wie schön ist an ihr all ihr Weisses. Ihre Arme, wie sind sie schön. Und ihre Hände, wie sind sie (5) schmal. Und wie zart ist der ganze Anblick ihrer Hände. Wie schön sind ihre Handflächen.

68 So mit Machiela, Genesis Apocryphon 124 A364, gegen z.B. Beyer, Texte I, 173–174 („wegen meiner Frau“). 69 Siehe Gerhard Wilhelm Nebe, „Das Lied von Sarais Schönheit in 1Q20 = Genesis Apokryphon XX, 2–8 und die Anfänge der aramäischen Poesie“, in Sophia G. Vashalomidze/Lutz Greisiger (Hg.), Der Christliche Orient und seine Umwelt. Gesammelte Studien zu Ehren Jürgen Tubachs anläßlich seines 60. Geburtstags (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2007) 59–86. 70 Übersetzung Beyer, Texte I, 174; Beyer, Texte II, 70: „Und die Zartheit (oder: das Werk) ihrer Hände (8) ist schön“. 71 Nebe, „Lied“ 63–64.

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Und wie lang und zierlich Sind alle Finger ihrer Hände. Ihre Füße (6) wie schön sind sie. Und wie vollkommen sind gerade an ihr ihre Schenkel. Und alle Jungfrauen und Bräute, die eintreten ins Brautgemach, sind nicht schöner als sie. Und mehr als alle (7) (Ehe)frauen schön sind ist sie schön. Und sie ist (in) ihrer Schönheit die höchste über sie alle. Und bei all dieser Schönheit ist Klugheit in hohem Maße bei ihr. Und das (was) ihr von der Hand geht, (8) ist schön“.

Die Erzählung nimmt nun, ausgehend von Gen 12, 15–20, einen dramatischen Verlauf. Abram berichtet weiter: „Und als der König die Worte des Harkanos und die Worte der beiden andern hörte, die alle drei übereinstimmend redeten, gewann er sie sehr lieb72 und schickte (9) sofort Befehl (und) ließ sie holen. Und als er sie sah, staunte er über all ihre Schönheit und nahm sie sich zur Frau und wollte mich töten. Aber Sarai sagte (10) zum König: ‚Er ist mein Bruder‘, wodurch ich ja um ihretwillen (am ehesten) einen Vorteil hatte. Und so wurde ich, Abram, ihretwegen am Leben gelassen und nicht getötet. Und ich, Abram, weinte (11) heftig, ich und mein Neffe Lot mit mir, in der Nacht, nachdem Sarai mit Gewalt entführt worden war“.73

Es folgt ein Gebet Abrams (XX,12–16): (12) „In dieser Nacht betete ich und bat und flehte um Erbarmen und sagte unter Betrübtsein, während meine Tränen herabflossen: ‚Gepriesen seist du, Höchster Gott mein Herr, für alle (13) Ewigkeit, der du ein Herr bist und Macht hast über alles und über alle Könige der Erde Macht hast, sie alle zur Rechenschaft zu ziehen. Und jetzt (14) erhebe ich hiermit vor dir, mein Herr, Klage gegen den Pharao von Soan, den König von Ägypten, darüber daß mir meine Frau mit Gewalt entführt wurde. Bestrafe ihn zu meiner Genugtuung und zeige deine große Macht (15) an ihm und an seiner ganzen Familie, damit es ihm nicht möglich ist, in dieser Nacht meine Frau zu beflecken weg von mir (= sie für mich unrein zu machen), und damit sie von dir, mein Herr, erkennen, daß du ein Herr aller Könige (16) der Erde bist!‘ Und ich weinte und verstummte“.74

b. Sarai wird vor dem Pharao bewahrt Dieses Gebet wird erhört (XX,16–21): (16) „In dieser Nacht schickte ihm der Höchste Gott einen Plagegeist, damit der ihn und alle Menschen in seiner Familie schlage, einen bösen Geist, (17) und der schlug ihn und alle Menschen seiner Familie, so daß er sich ihr nicht nähern konnte; und so wohnte er ihr auch nicht bei. Und er kränkelte (18) zwei Jahre lang. Und am Ende von (den) zwei Jahren wurden die Plagen und Schläge ihm und allen Menschen seiner Familie gegenüber heftiger und stärker. Und er schickte Befehl (19) (und) ließ alle Weisen Ägyptens und alle Zauberer rufen zusammen mit allen Ärzten Ägyptens, ob sie ihn und die Menschen seiner Familie von dieser

72

Machiela, Genesis Apocryphon 131: „he greatly desired her“. A.a.O., 174–175. 74 A.a.O., 175. 73

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Plage heilen könnten. (20) Aber alle Ärzte und Zauberer und alle Weisen konnten nicht daran gehen, ihn zu heilen, denn dieser Geist schlug sie alle, (21) und sie flohen“.75

Harkanos kommt zu Abram und bittet ihn, für die Heilung des Pharao zu beten (XX,21–29). Abram berichtet weiter: (21) „Darauf kam Harkanos zu mir und bat mich, daß ich käme und für den König betete (22) und ihm meine Hände auflegte, damit er wieder gesund würde, denn in einem Traum habe er es [so] gesehen. Und Lot sagte zu ihm: ‚Mein Vatersbruder Abram kann nicht für den König beten, (23) solange seine Frau Sarai bei ihm ist. Und jetzt geh, sage dem König, er solle seine (Abrams) Frau von sich ihrem Manne wieder zurückschicken, so wird er für ihn beten, auf daß er wieder gesund werde‘“.76

Harkanos berichtet dies dem Pharao: (24) „Und nachdem Harkanos die Worte des Lot gehört hatte, ging er weg (und) sagte zum König: ‚Alle diese Plagen und Schläge, (25) mit denen mein Herr, der König geschlagen und gegeißelt wird, sind (nur) wegen Abrams Frau Sarai. Gebt doch Sarai ihrem Manne Abram zurück, (26) so wird diese Plage, und zwar der die Geschwüre verursachende Geist, von dir weichen!‘ Und der König ließ mich rufen und sagte zu mir: ‚Was hast du mir angetan? Warum hast du mir immer wieder gesagt: (27) Sie ist meine Schwester!, obwohl sie doch deine Frau war, so daß ich sie mir zur Frau nahm? Hier ist deine Frau. Nimm sie, geh und entferne dich aus (28) allen Provinzen Ägyptens! Und jetzt bete für mich und meine Familie, damit uns dieser böse Geist ausgetrieben werde!‘ Und ich betete für ihn zu seiner Heilung (29) und legte meine Hände auf sein Haupt, und die Plage wurde von ihm entfernt und der böse Geist ihm ausgetrieben und er wurde wiederhergestellt“.77

c. Abram erhält seine Frau zurück Abschluss: Abram erhält seine Frau zurück, sie bekommt reiche Geschenke und Hagar (vgl. Gen 16,1) (XX,29–32). (29) „Und der König gab (30) mir […] viele Geschenke. Und der König schwur mir mit einem Eide, daß er ihr nicht beigewohnt und sie (daher auch) nicht befleckt habe. Und er gab mir (31) Sarai zurück. Und der König gab ihr viel Silber und Gold und viele Byssus- und Purpurkleider, welche [Wohlgefallen fanden] (32) vor ihr, und auch die Hagar. Und er übergab sie mir und bestimmte zu meiner Begleitung Leute, die mich aus dem Lande Ägypten herausbringen sollten“.78

Auch der Samaritanische Anonymus (Pseudo-Eupolemos) weiß, dass der Pharao keinen Geschlechtsverkehr mit Abrams Frau haben konnte: „Ausführlich hat er berichtet, daß (der König) ihr nicht habe beiwohnen können und daß es

75

A.a.O., 176. A.a.O., 176–177. 77 A.a.O., 177. 78 Ebd. 76

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65

geschah, daß es seinem Volk und seinem Hause schlecht erging.“79 Die Verhinderung des Geschlechtsverkehrs durch die Impotenz (oder durch Geschlechtskrankheiten, siehe Zeile 26) des Pharao macht Sarai nach ihrer Rückgabe an Abram als Ehefrau erlaubt (vgl. Dtn 24,4). Die Notlüge, die Abram Sarai aufzwingt, „sage, er ist mein Bruder“ wird gerechtfertigt durch das Abram im Traum geoffenbarte Wissen, dass er in Lebensgefahr wegen seiner schönen Frau kommen wird (Gen 12,10–20; 1QGenApok XIX,14–21). Anstößige Züge werden auf diese Weise gemildert.80

VII. Abschließende Überlegungen Erstaunt stehen wir vor der Freiheit, mit der antike Autoren vorgegebene autoritative Texte bearbeiten, ihnen hinzufügen und weglassen, oder sie in einen neuen Kontext stellen. Diese vermeintliche Freiheit hat als Grundvoraussetzung die Treue zum vorgegebenen Text. Nur weil ein Text als verbindlich angesehen wird, wird er aktualisiert und für eine jeweils neue Leser- und Hörerschaft verbindlich gemacht. Am deutlichsten wurde dies vielleicht an haggadischen Begründungen für halachische Fragen, die sich insbesondere an Gestalten der Urgeschichte und frühen Geschichte Israels zeigen. Positiv: Die Tage der Unreinheit einer Frau nach der Geburt hängen mit der Zeit zusammen, nach der Adam und seine Frau jeweils ins Paradies gebracht wurden. Negativ: David konnte das Gesetz nicht kennen, dass der König nicht viele Frauen haben darf, da die Tora in der Lade verschlossen lag. Ein weiterer wichtiger Sachverhalt ist das Weglassen anstoßerregender Details wie Noahs Trunkenheit. Gewiss spielte auch das Fehlen von vermissten Redestücken eine Rolle, wie ein Abschiedswort der Rebekka an ihren Sohn oder ein ausgeführtes Lied der Miriam und der Frauen am Schilfmeer. So stellen diese Bearbeitungen eine ungemeine Bereicherung dar und sind Teil des Verstehens- und Traditionsprozesses über die Jahrhunderte hin. Die Bibelwissenschaft der letzten 200 Jahre hat gelernt, dass insbesondere die Bücher der Hebräischen Bibel, die seit fast zwei Jahrtausenden höchste Verbindlichkeit haben, selbst Ergebnis solcher kreativen Weiter- und Fortschreibungsaktivitäten sind. In den Funden von Qumran erhalten wir Momentaufnahmen aus diesen produktiven haggadischen Prozessen.

79 Text Eusebius, praepev IX,17,7; Übersetzung nach Nikolaus Walter, „Pseudo-Eupolemos (Samaritanischer Anonymus)“, in ders., Fragmente jüdisch-hellenistischer Historiker (JSHRZ I,2; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus Gerd Mohn, 1976) 137–143 (142). 80 Siehe Stökl Ben Ezra, Qumran 217–218.

Abraham als Archetyp der Gottesliebe: Die Opferung Isaaks in Philos biographischem Enkomium „Das Leben des Weisen“ (De Abrahamo 167–208a) Gudrun Holtz Peter von der Osten-Sacken zum 80. Geburtstag

Der Begriff „Haggada“ ist ein terminus technicus, der in die rabbinische Literatur verweist.1 Bezogen auf Philo ist er darum ein Anachronismus. Gleichwohl zeigen sich bei der Auslegung narrativer biblischer Texte in Gestalt narrativer Weiterführung2 verschiedentlich Übereinstimmungen zwischen Philo und der rabbinischen Tradition. Sie gehen auf gemeinsame Tradition zurück, wie sie sich bereits in der Schrift selbst in Neh 8,8 zeigt: „Sie lasen im Buch, der Tora Gottes, Abschnitt für Abschnitt, und sie gaben die Bedeutung (an) und sie belehrten (sie) in dem gelesenen (Abschnitt)“. Dem Bemühen, den biblischen Texten Sinn zu verleihen, gilt die Schriftauslegung der Zeit des Zweiten Tempels. Es zeigt sich u.a. in der Gattung der „Rewritten Bible“ bzw. des „Rewriting Scripture“,3 die in der Schrift selbst verankert ist. Die Forschung sieht diese Gattung sowohl bei einzelnen Schriften Philos aus der Exposition

1

Dazu s.o. Günter Stemberger, „Haggadah in Rabbinic Literature“ in diesem Band. Vgl. Wilhelm Bacher, Die Agada der Tannaiten. Bd. 1. Von Hillel bis Akiba (Straßburg: Karl J. Trübner Verlag, 19032) 456: Die Agada besteht „von jeher in Schrifterklärung“. Das „erzählende Element“ in ihr zeigt sich in der „Weiterbildung des biblischen Erzählstoffes“ und beruht „ebenfalls auf exegetischer Grundlage“, sowie im Anschluss an Bacher Stemberger, „Haggadah“. Dieses erzählende Element sei aber strikt von Formen wie Erzählung, Sage, Legende etc. zu unterscheiden. 3 Das deutlichste Beispiel ist das chronistische Geschichtswerk. Zur Diskussion um den Begriff „Rewritten Bible“ vgl. George J. Brooke, Art. „Rewritten Bible“, in EDSS 2 (2000) 777–781; ders., „The Rewritten Law, Prophets and Psalms: Issues for Understanding the Text of the Bible“, in Edward D. Herbert / Emanuel Tov (Hg.), The Bible as Book: The Hebrew Bible and the Judean Desert Discoveries (London / New Castle: British Library / Oak Knoll Press, 2002) 31–41, sowie Rachel Adelman, „Can We Apply the Term ‚Rewritten Bible‘ to Midrash? The Case of Pirqe de-Rabbi Eliezer“, in: József Zsengellér (Hg.), Rewritten Bible after Fifty Years: Texts, Terms, or Techniques? A Last Dialogue with Geza Vermes (JSJ.S 166; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2014) 295–317; 295–296. 2

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als auch bei Texten aus der rabbinischen Tradition im Hintergrund stehen.4 Philo beschreibt das in Neh 8,8 geschilderte Verfahren als Praxis des Judentums seiner Zeit. Nach Somn. 2,1275 sitzen die Juden in ihren Synagogen und halten ihre gewohnten Versammlungen ab, in denen sie „die heiligen Bücher lesen und, wenn etwas nicht klar ist, es erklären (διαπτύσσοντες) und sich mit der väterlichen Philosophie beschäftigen“. Die Verlesung der Schrift wird so auch hier um die mündliche Auslegung ergänzt. Übereinstimmungen zwischen Philo und der rabbinischen Tradition zeigen sich besonders in grundsätzlichen Fragen der Schriftauslegung.6 Dazu gehört auch die im Weiteren dieser Untersuchung relevante Unterscheidung einer am „sensus literalis“ interessierten Deutung der Schrift7 von der Erhebung eines tieferen Schriftsinns, ohne dass dies scharf zu trennen wäre.8 Gemeinsam ist ihnen zudem das Ziel der religiösen und moralisch-ethischen Unterweisung,9 mithin der Aktualisierung der Schrift.10 Dies konkretisiert sich u.a. darin, dass die biblischen Protagonisten hier wie dort als Prototypen interpretiert werden,11 an denen sich die Adressatenschaft orientieren soll. Eine entferntere Analogie zwischen Philo und der rabbinischen Literatur zeigt sich in formaler Hinsicht. Der für die spätere rabbinische Literatur getroffenen Unterscheidung von exegetischem und homiletischem Midrasch scheint bei Philo die Unterscheidung zwischen der Kommentarform, die sich in den beiden Schriftenreihen der Allegorischen Schriften und der Quaestiones et Solutiones findet, und der – formal in sich freilich äußerst heterogenen –

4 Zu Philo s.u. 3. Zum rabbinischen Befund vgl. Günter Stemberger, Einleitung in Talmud und Midrasch (München: C.H. Beck: 20119) 260–262, der für die Anfänge der Midraschexegese ausdrücklich auf das der „Rewritten Bible“ zugerechnete Jubiläenbuch (Jub) sowie auf den Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum (LAB) verweist; s. ferner Steven D. Fraade, „Rewritten Bible and Rabbinic Midrash as Commentary“, in Carol Bakhos (ed.), Current Trends in the Study of Midrash (JSJ.S 106; Leiden/Bosten: Brill, 2006) 59–78, sowie Adelman, „Term“. 5 Auf diese Stelle verweist Art. „Aggadah or Haggadah“, in EnJud (20072) 1.456; s. ferner Philo, Apol. 7,12. 6 Stemberger, Einleitung 29, zufolge gehen „Zusammenordnung und Terminologie“ der Auslegungsregeln auch in der pharisäischen und rabbinischen Tradition auf „hellenistische Einflüsse zurück“. Dies mag manche Übereinstimmung mit Philo erklären; vgl. dazu David Daube, „Rabbinic Methods of Interpretation and Hellenistic Rhetoric“, in Calum M. Carmichael (Hg.), Collected Works of David Daube. Volume One. Talmudic Law (Berkeley: The Regents of the University of California, 1992) 333–355; 349. 7 Philo nennt sie ῥητός, die rabbinische Literatur ‫פשׁט‬. 8 Philo verwendet hierfür u.a. σύμβολον, die rabbinische Literatur bezeichnet den homiletischen Sinn als ‫ ;דרשׁה‬vgl. Art. “Aggadah“, 456. 9 Vgl. für die rabbinische Literatur Bacher, Die Agada 456, mit der Unterscheidung von „Auslegung und Anwendung“, sowie ebd., 474; Art. „Aggadah“ 454, sowie Roger D. Aus, „Historicity and Truth in Haggadic Texts“ (in diesem Band). 10 Vgl. Stemberger, Einleitung 262. 11 Vgl. für die rabbinische Literatur Art. „Aggadah“ 457.

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Exposition zu korrespondieren. Die Kommentarform geht, darin dem exegetischen Midrasch vergleichbar, von einem Schriftvers oder einzelnen Begriffen, die ein textliches Problem aufwerfen, aus, um sodann die gewählte Auslegungseinheit zu deuten.12 Demgegenüber legen die Schriften der Exposition, insbesondere die drei in ihr enthaltenen Lebensbeschreibungen,13 wie später auch der homiletische Midrasch14 umfänglichere Ausschnitte aus den biblischen Texten zugrunde und interpretieren sie. Dem durch den Titel des Bandes, „Haggada“, vorgegebenen Leitbegriff gemäß wird aus dem umfangreichen corpus der Schriftauslegung Philos mit De Abrahamo eine Schrift aus der Exposition ausgewählt, die in größerem Stil narratives Material enthält. Formal findet sich auch hier, ähnlich wie in der Gattung „Rewritten Bible“, die für die rabbinische Haggada beobachtete narrative Weiterführung des biblischen Erzählstoffes, die wiederum ein Ergebnis von Schriftauslegung ist. Dabei zeigt jedoch bereits ein oberflächlicher Blick, dass sich De Abrahamo formal ganz aus der griechisch-römischen Rhetorik erklärt und zur Analyse der Schrift darum das hier über die Jahrhunderte entwickelte analytische Instrumentarium heranzuziehen ist. Nur so lässt sich die Aussageabsicht Philos umfassend erschließen. Der alexandrinische Schriftausleger hat die Rhetorik gründlich studiert und wendet ihre Einsichten in der Schrift De Abrahamo als ganzer wie auch in seiner Auslegung der Opferung Isaaks mit großer Souveränität an. Inhaltlich hingegen bewegt er sich bei der Auslegung von Genesis 22 im Horizont biblisch-frühjüdischen Denkens, an das er anknüpft und das er, in kritischer Auseinandersetzung insbesondere mit stoischem Denken, vertiefend weiterführt. Dies wird im Folgenden im Einzelnen dargelegt, bevor abschließend die für die Vorgeschichte der Haggada wie auch für Philo thematisierte Frage nach dem Verhältnis zur Gattung „Rewritten Bible“ aufgenommen wird.

I. De Abrahamo als biographisches Enkomium Der vollständige Titel der Schrift lautet: „Das Leben des Weisen (βίος σοφού), der durch Unterweisung zur Vollkommenheit gelangte, oder: Das erste (Buch) der ungeschriebenen Gesetze, (das) von Abraham (handelt)“. Der Titel βίος

12 Vgl. dazu im Einzelnen Maren R. Niehoff, Jewish Exegesis and Homeric Scholarship in Alexandria (Cambridge: University Press, 2011) 177–178. 13 Dabei handelt es sich um die Vita Abrahams, Josephs und Moses. Auf sie v.a. trifft die Feststellung von Niehoff, Jewish Exegesis 177, zu, die „free narrative of the biblical material“ sei für die Exposition kennzeichnend. 14 Vgl. dazu Stemberger, Einleitung 265.

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weist die Schrift als ein Exemplar der hellenistischen Gattung der Biographie aus.15 Vergleicht man diesen philonischen βίος jedoch mit anderen antiken Biographien, etwa mit dem „βίος des Josephus“, der als „Meisterstück der biographischen Geschichtsschreibung“ gilt,16 so lassen sich Differenzen zu Werken dieser Gattung kaum übersehen. Deshalb greift eine undifferenzierte gattungsgeschichtliche Zuordnung von De Abrahamo zur Biographie in jedem Fall zu kurz. Im Proömium (§1–6) skizziert Philo Inhalt und Absicht von De Abrahamo. Die Schrift ist im Kern der βίος einer literarischen Person einer weit zurückliegenden Vergangenheit,17 aus deren Leben, wie es das Buch Genesis erzählt, Philo mehrere Episoden aufnimmt und sie interpretiert. Diese Person ist Abraham (§52–276). Er ist der erste jener Trias vollkommener Männer, der Patriarchen, die je eine menschliche Denk- und Handlungsweise (ψυχῆς τρόπος; §47; 52) bzw. Tugend (§4; 52) repräsentieren. Abraham steht, wie es bereits im Titel der Schrift angedeutet wird, für die durch Unterweisung erworbene Tugend (§52).18 Ihnen geht eine weitere Trias von Männern voraus, die andere, weniger vollkommene Charaktere repräsentieren.19 Philo will in seiner Schrift zeigen, dass diese Personen, allen voran Abraham, in ihrem Handeln das geschriebene Gesetz des Mose vorwegnehmen, indem sie das ungeschriebene Gesetz befolgen, das in der Natur selbst erkennbar ist (§5).20 In der Durchführung verweist er für das gesetzeskonforme Handeln seiner Protagonisten aber nicht auf spezifische Gebote des mosaischen Gesetzes, sondern ordnet es einzelnen

15 Vgl. dazu den Forschungsüberblick von Detlev Dormeyer, Evangelium als literarische und theologische Gattung (EdF 263; Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1989), 161–168; s. ferner Steve Mason, Flavius Josephus und das Neue Testament (UTB 2130; Tübingen/Basel: A. Francke Verlag, 2000) 130–134. 16 Mason, Josephus 130. 17 Vgl. dazu Klaus Berger, Hellenistische Gattungen im Neuen Testament (ANRW II 25/2; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1984) 1031–1432; 1236. 18 Diese Vollkommenheit konkretisiert sich ab Abr. 60 in verschiedenen Einzeltugenden. Vgl. dazu Lukas Kundert, Die Opferung/Bindung Isaaks. Bd. 1: Gen 22,1–19 im Alten Testament, im Frühjudentum und im Neuen Testament (WMANT 78; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchner Verlag, 1998) 116–119. Dagegen ist die von Isaak repräsentierte Vollkommenheit die durch Naturanlage angeborene Tugend, die von Jakob repräsentierte die durch Übung erlangte Tugend (§52). 19 Enosch steht für Hoffnung, Henoch für Reue, Noah für Ruhe, aber auch für vollkommene Gerechtigkeit (Gen 6,9); vgl. dazu Kundert, Opferung 113–114. Von Noah erzählt Philo auch die Ereignisse rund um die Sintflut. Im Sinne einer inclusio um den mit De Abrahamo beginnenden, mit De praemiis et poeniis schließenden Teil der Exposition werden beide Triaden, vermehrt um Mose, in Praem. 7–56 noch einmal thematisiert. 20 Vgl. dazu Gudrun Holtz, Damit Gott sei alles in allem. Studien zum paulinischen und frühjüdischen Universalismus (BZNW 149; Berlin / New York: de Gruyter, 2007) 382–385.

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Tugenden zu.21 Die für Abraham ausgewählten Episoden weist er drei gemeinantiken Kardinaltugenden, dem vernünftigen Denken, der Gerechtig-keit und der Tapferkeit, zu.22 Die vierte, für Philo entscheidende Tugend Abrahams ist die Frömmigkeit.23 Sie wird maßgeblich durch die Opferung Isaaks illustriert. Weil die beiden Triaden tugendhafter Männer den Gesetzesgehorsam vorwegnehmen und die Tugenden als erste praktizieren, nennt Philo sie „gleichsam Urbilder (ὡς ἂν ἀρχετύπους)“ solchen Handelns (§3). Die Verewigung der Tugenden jener Archetypen in der Schrift dient nach philonischem Verständnis einem doppelten Zweck, mit dem zugleich eine doppelte formgeschichtliche Präzisierung des von ihm als βίος eingeführten Werkes einhergeht. Die Tugenden jener Männer sind in den heiligen Schriften niedergelegt, nicht nur zu ihrem Lob (ἔπαινον), sondern auch um die Leser zu ermahnen (τοὺς ἐντυγχάνοντας προτρέψασθαι) und sie zu gleichem Eifer zu führen (ἐπὶ τὸν ὅμοιον ζῆλον ἀγαγεῖν) (§4).

Mit dem Hinweis auf das Lob der Protagonisten der Schrift als einem ersten Zweck ihrer Abfassung weist Philo seinen βίος De Abrahamo als ein epideiktisches Werk aus. Eine zweite Absicht erhellt aus dem Begriff προτρέψασθαι, der auf ihren symbuleutischen Charakter verweist. Wie bereits von Aristoteles beschrieben, besteht ein enger Zusammenhang zwischen epideiktischer und symbuleutischer Rede, Lob und Beratung bzw., mit dem von Philo verwendeten Begriff, Protreptik. Beide Redeformen handeln unter unterschiedlicher Perspektive von ein und demselben Sachverhalt: „Was man ... beim Beraten empfiehlt, das wird zu Lobesäußerungen, wenn man die Ausdrucksweise umwandelt“.24 In De Abrahamo steht das Lob im Zentrum, das auch Philo wiederholt protreptisch wendet.25

21

Ein vergleichbarer Ansatz zeigt sich, wenn auch nicht durchgängig, in Spec. 1–4, Virt. und Praem., wo Philo das Gesetz des Mose den Tugenden zuordnet. 22 Zum λογισμός vgl. Abr. 255–261, zur Gerechtigkeit, verstanden als Menschenfreundlichkeit, §107–113; 208–244; zur Tapferkeit §225–235. 23 Vgl. §60. In §270 wird Philo die πίστις als „die Königin der Tugenden“ bezeichnen. Sie repräsentiert hier die Frömmigkeit. Deren Bedeutung für De Abrahamo zeigt sich auch im Aufriss der Schrift, in der die Frömmigkeit am Anfang (§60–89; zu Gen 12,1), in der Mitte (§167– 207; zu Gen 22,1–12a) und am Ende (§262–269; zu Gen 15,6 [πίστις]) erörtert wird. Demgegenüber ist in der griechischen Tradition die Weisheit bzw. Klugheit die oberste Kardinaltugend; Philo erwähnt sie für Abraham nur am Rande (§255–261). 24 Vgl. Rhet. 1,9.35; hier und im Folgenden zitiert nach Franz G. Sieveke, Aristoteles. Rhetorik (UTB; München: W. Fink Verlag, 19955). 25 So zeigen sich sämtliche dieser formgeschichtlich transparenten Elemente (βίος, ἔπαινος und προτρέψασθαι) teils begrifflich, teils sachlich auch am Ende der Schrift – vgl. §275–276 mit der Abfolge: Lob (begrifflich), Symbuleutik (sachlich) und schließlich βίος (begrifflich) –, ἔπαινος und προτρέψασθαι u.a. auch in Philos Auslegung von Genesis 22.

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Bereits dieser Befund, vermehrt um die Tatsache, dass Philo den Begriff des Lobes in auffallender Häufigkeit gebraucht,26 legt es nahe, seinen βίος über Abraham formgeschichtlich statt als hellenistische Biographie als eine laudatio bzw. ein Enkomium zu bestimmen.27 Weitere Argumente kommen hinzu. Klaus Berger zufolge ist es für das Enkomium im Unterschied zur Biographie, mit der es verwandt ist,28 kennzeichnend, dass die Gesamtheit eines Lebens hier nicht dargestellt (wird). Jedoch konnte man in chronologischer Ordnung vorgehen ... – wie auch in systematischer. Üblich wird die chronologische Folge mit diesen Elementen: 1. Proömium, 2. Herkunft ..., 3. Ausbildung und Beruf ..., 4. Taten (gr.: praxeis), d.h. Eigenschaften der Seele, des Leibes und des Geschicks, die in bestimmten Situationen zum Ausdruck kommen. Tugenden, Laster und habituelle Verhaltensweisen des Helden werden so mehr oder weniger entfaltet dargestellt.29

Diese Merkmale finden sich in De Abrahamo allesamt, wenngleich mit eigener Schwerpunktsetzung. Eine chronologische Ordnung findet sich hier nur bezogen auf die Abfolge der archetypischen biblischen Gestalten, nicht aber auf die Anordnung des Stoffes bei der Darstellung Abrahams.30 Dieser Stoff ist 26

ἔπαινος κτλ. findet sich außer im Eingangsteil (§4) und im Schluss (§275) in der Auslegung von Genesis 22 (§178; 183; 186 [2x]; 187; 190 [2x]; 191 [hier kommt das Synonym εὐφημία hinzu; s. ferner §184]) sowie in §14; 104; 158; 209; 262; 271–272. 27 Vgl. bereits Burton L. Mack, „Weisheit und Allegorie bei Philo von Alexandrien. Untersuchungen zum Traktat De congressu eruditionis“, in Karl H. Rengstorff (ed.), Theokratia 3 (1973–1975). FS Harold Koch (Leiden: Brill, 1979) 23–59; 43–46. Dagegen qualifiziert Louis H. Feldman, „Philo’s Version of the ‘Aqedah“, in: ders., Judaism and Hellenism Reconsidered (JSJ.S 107; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2006) 255–279; 270.279, De Abrahamo als „hagiographical biography“. Maren R. Niehoff, Philon von Alexandria. Eine intellektuelle Biographie (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2019) 148, hat jüngst erneut für eine Zuordnung zur Biographie plädiert. Ihre präzisierende Bemerkung, Philo untergrabe das „Genre der Biographie“, da es „in dieser Vita nicht um einen Menschen gehe, sondern um abstrakte Tugenden“, erweist sich, wie im Folgenden deutlich wird, als Argument für die gattungsgeschichtliche Bestimmung von De Abrahamo als Enkomium. 28 Philip L. Shuler, A Genre for the Gospels. The Biographical Character of Matthew (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1982) 56, dem Klaus Berger, Formen und Gattungen im Neuen Testament (UTB; Tübingen/Basel: A. Francke Verlag, 2005) 404, folgt, spricht in diesem Zusammenhang von einer „laudatory biography“ (Berger, ebd., nennt hier ausdrücklich auch Philos Vita Mosis); vgl. auch Dormeyer, Evangelium 165. S. ferner Mason, Josephus 133, der den βίος des Josephus formgeschichtlich anhand der Kriterien der laudatio beschreibt, wie sie Cicero in De partitione oratoria v.a. niedergelegt hat (Part. 71–82). 29 Berger, Formen 401–402. Zu den Elementen der Lobrede (bzw. des Tadels) s. ferner Heinrich Lausberg, Handbuch der literarischen Rhetorik. Eine Grundlegung der Literaturwissenschaft (München: Max Huber Verlag, 19732) 133–134. Nach dem Schema des Doxopater handelt es sich um die folgenden Elemente: 1) γένος... 2) ἀνατροφή... 3) πράξεις (τὸ μέγιστον κεφάλαιον). a) κατὰ ψυχήν. ἀνδρεία, φρόνησις. b) κατὰ σῶμα. κάλλος, τάχος, ῥώμη. c) κατὰ τύχην. δυναστεία, πλοῦτος, φίλοι (ebd., 134). Vgl. ferner Cicero, Part. 74–75; 82. 30 Die chronologische Reihenfolge zählt zu den Grundmerkmalen der hellenistischen Biographie; vgl. Dormeyer, Evangelium 161.

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überwiegend systematisch angeordnet und orientiert sich an den durch die Archetypen repräsentierten Tugenden.31 Das erste der von Berger aufgeführten Elemente, das Proömium, wurde bereits in den Blick genommen (§1–6). Das zweite, die Herkunft Abrahams, behandelt Philo relativ knapp,32 wohingegen dem dritten, seiner Ausbildung bzw. Unterweisung, wie es bereits der Titel der Schrift andeutet, großes Gewicht beigemessen wird.33 Der Hauptfokus der Darstellung aber liegt auf dem vierten Element, dem Charakter, der sich nach übereinstimmender Auffassung der Rhetoriker in entscheidender Weise an den Taten des Protagonisten bzw. seinen Tugenden ablesen lässt. Dabei betont Philo v.a. die tugendhaften Taten, die sich aus den Eigenschaften der Seele speisen. Solche Taten sind es auch, die das Lob aus sich heraussetzen. So heißt es bei Aristoteles prägnant: ἐκ τῶν πράξεων ὁ ἔπαινος (Rhet 1,9.32). Wie ἔπαινος fällt auch das Lexem πρᾶξις ebenso wie sein Synonym ἔργον in De Abrahamo wiederholt.34 Die Aussage Philos, dass die Tat Abrahams lobenswert sei (ἐπαινετή ... ἡ πρᾶξις; §191),35 klingt so wie ein Echo auf Aristoteles bzw. die Regeln der antiken Rhetorik allgemein. Zu den in einem Enkomium besonders zu erwähnenden Aspekten gehören Cicero zufolge auch Ereignisse, die unter die Kategorie des Großen oder Unglaublichen (magnum aut incredibile) fallen (Part. 82), besonders wenn sie sich göttlicher Intervention verdanken (§73; 82). Dieses Merkmal zeigt sich in der philonischen Darstellung Abrahams immer wieder, nicht zuletzt in seiner Auslegung von Genesis 22.36 Auch misst Philo, die Vorgaben Ciceros reflektierend (Part. 82), der Darlegung der Gründe und der Konsequenzen des Handelns Abrahams große Bedeutung bei.

31 Cicero, Part. 75, nennt für die Anordnung des Stoffes der laudatio drei alternative Formen: die chronologische Anordnung, den Einsatz mit der letzten Tat, sowie die Zuordnung der Taten zu den verschiedenen Tugenden. Philo folgt überwiegend letzterem Ansatz, wechselt dabei ab §60 aber zwischen den für Abraham erhobenen Tugenden hin und her. 32 Vgl. §50; 69–70. Möglicherweise sind in diesem Sinne auch die verschiedene Tugenden repräsentierenden Charaktere Enosch, Henoch und Noah zu verstehen (§7–47), die Kundert, Opferung 113, zufolge „als Vorabbilder der Erzväter“ die „Urväter“ (kurs.) sind. 33 Zur Ausbildung bzw. Erziehung Abrahams vgl. Abr. 52; 61; 68; 70; er wird durch die Betrachtung der Natur und durch göttliche Offenbarung unterwiesen. 34 Zu πρᾶξις κτλ. vgl. Abr. 167; 177–178; 189–191; 193; zu ἔργον §176; 178; 194; 196; 199. 35 Obwohl Philo in der Einleitung zu der Schrift beides nennt, Taten und Worte (§5), zeigt er sich, im Unterschied zur Rhetorik (vgl. Cicero, Part. 82), an den Worten seiner Protagonisten nur wenig interessiert. Sie sind in besonderer Weise für die Biographie kennzeichnend. Worte und Taten gelten gleichermaßen als für die antike Philosophen-Vita charakteristisch (vgl. Udo Schnelle, Einleitung in das Neue Testament [Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 20076], 182). Zur Vita des Josephus vgl. z.B. §256–258. 36 Was bei Cicero, Part. 73, die oracula sind, sind bei Philo das λόγιον (§169; 189) und τὸ χρησθέν (§192).

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Das zentrale Darstellungsmittel der Lobrede ist der Rhetorik zufolge die Steigerung.37 Dazu gehört nach Aristoteles, „wenn jemand etwas alleine (μόνος) oder als erster (πρῶτος) oder mit wenigen (μετ’ ὀλίγων) oder in vorzüglicher Weise getan hat (μάλιστα πεποίηκεν)“ (Rhet. 1,9.38). In Philos Auslegung von Genesis 22 reflektiert sich dieses Darstellungsmittel in seiner Deutung der Frömmigkeitstat Abrahams bei der Darbringung Isaaks: „er selbst sollte als erster mit einer ganz neuen und außergewöhnlichen Tat beginnen“38 (Abr. 193). Sofern das rhetorische Mittel der Steigerung „im Aufweis des Übertreffens (ἐν ὑπεροχῄ)“ besteht (Rhet. 1,9.39), ist die Synkrisis bzw. mit dem lateinischen terminus technicus die comparatio notwendiger Bestandteil der Lobrede. Auch dieses Mittels bedient sich Philo in seiner Auslegung von Genesis 22 zum Erweis der Größe Abrahams.39 Da Philo De Abrahamo ausdrücklich als βίος bezeichnet und bestimmte Züge Enkomium und Biographie gemeinsam sind, die Merkmale des Enkomiums aber klar überwiegen, scheint es angemessen, in Umkehrung des in der formgeschichtlichen Debatte verwendeten Terminus der „laudatory biography“ von einem biographisch akzentuierten Enkomium bzw. einem biographischen Enkomium zu sprechen.

II. Philos Auslegung der Opferung Isaaks (Abr. 167–208a)40 Philos Auslegung von Genesis 22 ist ein mit äußerster Sorgfalt durchkomponierter Text, der von großer argumentativer Stringenz ist.41 Er entfaltet seinen Stoff der klassischen Einteilung antiker Rhetorik gemäß in der Abfolge von exordium, narratio, argumentatio und peroratio. Im Folgenden wird zunächst 37

Vgl. Aristoteles, Rhet. 1,9.38–39; terminus technicus hierfür ist αὔξησις bzw. amplificatio. αὐτὸς ἔμελλε πρῶτος ἄρχεσθαι καινοτάτου καὶ παρηλλαγμένου πράγματος. πράγμα wird von J. Cohn, „Ueber Abraham“, in: Leopold Cohn et al. (Hg.), Philo von Alexandria. Die Werke in deutscher Übersetzung, Bd. 2 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1962) 135, mit „Sache“ wiedergegeben, von F. H. Colson / G.H. Whitaker, Philo in Ten Volumes. With an English Translation. Vol. 6 (LCL; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann, 1935) 95, mit „procedure“. Aufgrund des häufigen Gebrauchs von πρᾶξις ist hier jedoch die Bedeutung „das Thun, die Thätigkeit, die That, das Unternehmen, die Unterhandlung“ anzunehmen, und zwar „insbes. die bestimmte Thätigkeit, welche die Aufgabe des Lebens bildet“; sie geht „in die Bdtg des abstracten πρᾶξις“ über (Franz Passow, Handwörterbuch der griechischen Sprache [Sonderausgabe; Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2004], II/1 1056, s.v. 2). 39 Anders Niehoff, Philon 149. 40 Philo stellt den Begriff der Opferung ins Zentrum; der Begriff der Bindung Isaaks findet sich nicht. 41 Nur an einer Stelle, namentlich in §182, verlässt Philo den Hauptstrang seiner Argumentation, um den zuvor erörterten Gedanken auf einer anderen Ebene weiterzuführen. Das Thema des Kinderopfers bei den Völkern bringt ihn dazu, auf den Suizid der indischen Gymnosophisten und den Sati zu reflektieren. 38

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der Gedankengang des Ganzen in rhetorischer Analyse überblickshaft dargeboten, bevor dann die im Kontext dieses Beitrags entscheidenden Abschnitte vor allem unter inhaltlichen Gesichtspunkten im Einzelnen erörtert werden. II.1 Nachzeichnung des Gedankengangs von Abr. 167–208a mittels rhetorischer Analyse (1) Der Abschnitt beginnt mit dem exordium (§167), in dem Philo das Thema des zuvor erörterten biblischen Textes kurz zusammenfasst, um sodann zum neuen Thema überzuleiten: Es ist Abrahams „größte Tat (μεγίστην ... πρᾶξιν)“, die deshalb nicht verschwiegen werden darf. Sie übertrifft alle gottliebenden Taten (θεοφιλεῖς < sc. Πράξεις >).42 Damit gibt er eine Lektüreanweisung für das Folgende. Was hier thematisiert wird, ist die Tat der Gottesliebe schlechthin, die angesichts ihres alles übersteigenden Charakters höchstes Lob verdient. So erfüllt das Exordium die Aufgabe, die „Sympathie ... des Publikums ... für den (parteimäßig vertretenen) Redegegenstand zu gewinnen“.43 (2) Daran schließt sich die narratio an (§168–177), bei der es sich um „die (parteiische) Mitteilung des (in der argumentatio zu beweisenden) Sachverhalts“ handelt.44 Sie unterrichtet den Hörer darüber, „was strittig ist (quid in controversia sit)“.45 Jener Sachverhalt ist hier die Tat des Weisen, Abrahams, wie sie in Genesis 22 erzählt und von Philo ebenfalls in Erzählform wiedergegeben wird.46 Rhetorisch handelt es sich bei seiner narratio um eine literarische Erzählung, deren Protagonisten Personen der Vergangenheit sind.47 Genauer ist von einer narratio als Episoden-Erzählung in Prosa, einem διήγημα, zu sprechen.48 Der lobenswerte Charakter der Tat Abrahams wird nicht explizit hervorgehoben, klingt aber in der Darstellung seines Handels an. Philos Erzählung bricht mit der rettenden Intervention Gottes zugunsten Isaaks in Gen 22,12a ab, verzichtet also auf die für den Fortgang der biblischen Erzählung entscheidende Antwort Gottes. Der Abschnitt schließt mit der Feststellung (§177), die Tat Abrahams sei nicht nur in den heiligen Schriften, sondern auch in den Gedanken der Leser (τῶν ἀναγινωσκόντων) für alle Zeiten niedergelegt. Mit dieser Feststellung, in der die in §4 erwähnte protreptische

42

Zur Wiedergabe von θεοφιλής s.u. Anm. 111. Lausberg, Handbuch 150 (§263). 44 A.a.O., 163–164 (§289). 45 Quintilian, Inst 4,2.31; hier und im Folgenden zitiert nach Helmut Rahn, Marcus Fabius Quintilianus. Ausbildung des Redners. Zwölf Bücher, 2 Bde (TzF 2–3; Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 19953). 46 Zu den verschiedenen Genera der narratio vgl. Lausberg, Handbuch 165–167 (§290– 292). 47 Vgl. a.a.O., 165–166 (§290, 3a). Sie kann darum auch als narratio historica bestimmt werden; vgl. a.a.O., 534 (§1113aβ). 48 Vgl. a.a.O., 534 (§1112). 43

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bzw. symbuleutische Dimension von De Abrahamo erstmals im Rahmen des Auslegungszusammenhangs zu Genesis 22 anklingt, leitet Philo zur argumentatio über. (3) Die argumentatio (§178–198) „dient der Herstellung der Glaubwürdigkeit ... des vertretenen Parteistandpunktes“.49 Sie ist der Ort, an dem das Lob Abrahams gegen alle Kritik begründet wird. Philo verteidigt hier seine Tat gegen aktuelle Bestreitungen und Verleumdungen, die von Personen ausgehen, die es „sich zur Gewohnheit machen, den Tadel dem Lob vorzuziehen (ψόγον πρὸ ἐπαίνου τιμᾶν)“ (§178).50 Bei diesen handelt es sich um schriftkundige und d.h. aller Wahrscheinlichkeit nach um innerjüdische Gegner.51 In seiner mehrteiligen argumentatio bedient sich Philo der rhetorischen Mittel der refutatio und der confirmatio. Die refutatio ist der Versuch der Widerlegung eines von der Tradition überlieferten und von der Traditionspartei anerkannten historischen oder mythologischen Faktums. Sie ist also eine parteiische Methode des status coniecturae ..., angewandt auf den Sachbereich der historischen und mythologischen Fakten. Die Fakten werden als quaestiones finitae ... im status coniecturae formuliert: ... ‚Stimmt die Daphne-Legende?‘. Auf diese status-Frage antwortet die ἀνασκευή = refutatio negativ, indem sie den parteiischen Standpunkt der aufklärerischen Traditionsfeinde einnimmt... Den Standpunkt der Traditionsfreunde nimmt ein die confirmatio ..., κατασκευή ..., die also die Richtigkeit der Tradition zu verteidigen sucht...52

49

A.a.O., 190 (§348). Rhetorisch ist der Tadel (ψόγος) das Gegenteil des Lobes (ἔπαινος); vgl. Aristoteles, Rhet. 1,9.1; 1,9.28. Der Tadel gilt dem Laster (κακία) bzw. dem Schändlichen (αἰσχρόν), das Lob der Tugend (ἀρετή) bzw. dem Schönen (καλόν; §1). Auseinandersetzungen mit Gegnern finden sich auch in der haggadischen Exegese; vgl. Stemberger, Einleitung 263. 51 Vgl. §181 mit dem Verweis auf Mose und Dtn 12,31. Anders Feldman, Version 261– 266.279, dem zufolge sich Philos Auslegung von Genesis 22 v.a. an Nichtjuden wendet. Die Wortstudien, die dies belegen sollen, führen aber zu keinem eindeutigen Ergebnis. Die von ihm ausgewerteten nichtjüdischen antiken Schriftsteller sprechen, wie er selbst hervorhebt, positiv oder neutral über Abraham, lassen sich also nicht im Sinne einer nichtjüdischen Adressatenschaft auswerten. Demgegenüber plädieren Samuel Sandmel, Philo's Place in Judaism: A Study of Conceptions of Abraham in Jewish Literature (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College Press, 1956) 128, und Maren R. Niehoff, Philo on Jewish Identity and Culture (TSAJ 86; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001) 173, Anm. 42, Feldman, Version 261–262, zufolge für eine jüdische Adressatenschaft (coronabedingt war eine Einsichtnahme in die beiden Arbeiten nicht möglich). Anders akzentuiert Niehoff, Exegesis 184, wonach die Exposition, zu der De Abrahamo gehört, “primarily addresses the general concerns of an audience who have heard about the Jews but have not come into close contact with their writings“. Ein wichtiges Argument für die Annahme einer primär jüdischen Adressatenschaft ist die gegnerische Kenntnis von Dtn 12,31, die eine große Vertrautheit mit der jüdischen Bibel voraussetzt, die für Nichtjuden so nicht anzunehmen ist; ähnlich sprechen die ihnen von Philo in den Mund gelegten Argumente für eine intensive Auseinandersetzung mit Genesis 22. Die weitere Auslegung des Textes wird die Wahrscheinlichkeit einer jüdischen Adressatenschaft untermauern; vgl. bes. unten II.2.2. 52 Lausberg, Handbuch 540–541, mit Belegen antiker Schriftsteller. 50

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Die Elemente dieser Bestimmung spiegeln sich in Abr. 178–198 vollumfänglich wider. Philos Frage lautet: „Weshalb aber sollte jenem Lob zukommen, als ob er eine Tat unternommen hätte, die eine Neuerung darstellt (κεκαινουργημένης πράξεως)“ (§183), d.h. etwas Besonderes ist? Die Traditionsgegner, Verleumder Abrahams,53 sehen dafür keinen Grund. Zur Kritik der Tradition führen sie verschiedene Argumente an, die Philo vom Standpunkt des Traditionsfreundes aus im Rahmen der confirmatio zurückweist. Abschließend untermauert er die Tradition mit eigenen Argumenten. Unter dem Aspekt der Schriftauslegung betrachtet, handelt es sich bei der argumentatio insgesamt zugleich um einen Kommentar zu seiner narratio des biblischen Textes auf der Ebene des sensus literalis. (3.1) Der erste Teil der argumentatio (§178–183) schließt mit der bereits erwähnten Frage, die der Sache nach gleich zu Beginn im Rahmen der Problemstellung in Aussageform formuliert ist. Die Tat Abrahams ist den Traditionsfeinden zufolge nicht im eigentlichen Sinn bewunderns- und lobenswert, weil das Opfer des eigenen Kindes auch in der griechischen Kultur und darüber hinaus verbreitet sei. Auch hier hätten liebende Mütter und Väter, wie Abraham einer ist, ihre Kinder teils für eine gute Sache, wie den Schutz des Vaterlandes, teils aus traditioneller Frömmigkeit geopfert, darunter auch hochangesehene Griechen (§179–180). Wie Mose selbst zu entnehmen sei – Philo zitiert hier aus Dtn 12,31 – hätten auch nichtgriechische Völker den Kindermord zugelassen, weil sie ihn für ein „gottgefälliges und gottliebendes Werk (ὅσιον ἔργον καὶ θεοφιλές)“ hielten (§181). (3.2) Auf die Argumente der Traditionsfeinde antwortet die confirmatio (§184–198), in der Philo die Tradition in drei Schritten verteidigt und das Lob Abrahams singt. (3.2.1) Philo reagiert auf den Tadel der Gegner seinerseits mit einem Tadel an den von ihnen angeführten Gründen für die Praxis von Griechen und Nichtgriechen, Kinder zu opfern (§184–187). Er analysiert diese en détail, um sie sodann allesamt zu verwerfen. Wenn Eltern ihre Kinder aufgrund der Sitte (ἔθει) opfern, „tun sie ... nicht wirklich etwas Großes (οὐδέν ... μέγα)“ (§185). Wer Kinder aus Furcht (ἕνεκα δέους) vor den Mächtigen (§186; 189) darbringt, verdient kein Lob (ἔπαινος οὐδείς), weil ein solches nur freiwillig vollbrachten guten Taten gebührt (§186). Wenn jemand schließlich Sohn oder Tochter im Streben nach Ruhm und Ehre opfert – dabei hat Philo offenbar die griechischrömische Praxis im Blick, Kinder für das Wohl der res publica hinzugeben –,

53

Zu dieser und weiteren Bezeichnungen der Gegner vgl. §178; 191; 199. Dass Abraham Gegner hat, ist in der Philo vorausgehenden und mit ihm gleichzeitigen Tradition auch sonst bezeugt. In Jub 17,17; 18,9 und 4Q225 2 i,9; ii,6 sind es jedoch die Engel der Feindschaft; ähnlich in LAB 32,1–2. In LAB 32,4 scheint der Verfasser aber auch an nicht-angelische Mächte zu denken; s. ferner GenR 56,4.

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„sollte er mit Recht eher getadelt (ψέγοιτ’) als gelobt (ἐπαινοῖτο) werden“ (§187). (3.2.2) Diese in keiner Weise lobenswerten Gründe für Kinderopfer unterzieht Philo im Anschluss einer Gegenprobe an Abraham (§188–191a).54 Er kommt dabei zu dem Schluss, dass keiner der Gründe, die Griechen und Barbaren für das Kinderopfer haben, auf Abraham zutrifft. Deshalb fordert er die Gegner auf, den Mund zu halten und „die Tugenden von Männern, die recht gelebt“ und darum „Ruhm (εὐφημία)“ verdient haben, nicht zu beschädigen.55 (3.2.3) Der Schlussteil der confirmatio legt die Gründe Abrahams für seine Frömmigkeitstat dar (§191b–198) und begründet damit abschließend, warum sie so über die Maßen lobenswert ist. Der Abschnitt orientiert sich inhaltlich wie sprachlich eng an seiner erzählenden Wiedergabe des biblischen Textes in §168–177. Der umfangreiche Kommentar dazu in der argumentatio ist demnach ein Kommentar zu dem bereits in der Wiedergabe von Genesis 22 philonisch gedeuteten biblischen Text.56 (3.2.4) Der Abschnitt schließt mit der peroratio bzw. conclusio, die hier ein symbuleutisch-protreptisches Moment hat und darum dreiteilig ist (§199). Sie umfasst Gedächtnisauffrischung, Affektbeeinflussung und Mahnung.57 So erinnert sie noch einmal daran, dass Abrahams Tat angesichts ihrer Einzigartigkeit Lob verdient. An die Affekte appelliert Philo mit der Aussage, dass zumindest die nicht neidischen und boshaften Charaktere einer solch überragenden Frömmigkeit ihre Bewunderung nicht versagen können. Die abschließende Mahnung appelliert an die Leserschaft, sich die Tat Abrahams – und sei es auch zu einem noch so kleinen Teil – zu Herzen zu nehmen (εἰς νοῦν βαλλόμενον). Damit verdeutlicht er abschließend noch einmal, dass die Tat Abrahams für ihn Gegenwartsbedeutung hat, da sie zur Aneignung drängt. Dieses Moment zeigt sich bereits in der argumentatio, deren Ziel die Verteidigung der Richtigkeit der Tradition in ihrer Relevanz für die Gegenwart ist.58 (4) Auslegungstechnisch betrachtet, folgt auf diesen ersten, dem sensus literalis geltenden Kommentar ein zweiter Kommentar, der den tieferen Sinn der Erzählung, von Philo auch σύμβολον genannt, zu erheben sucht (§200–208a). Auch der allegorische Kommentar sucht den Gegenwartssinn des Textes zu erschließen, hat dabei im Unterschied zum ersten Kommentar aber nicht die 54 Rhetorisch liegt in §184–187 und §188–191a eine comparatio bzw. σύγκρισις vor, die „der Vergleich des Lobes (laus, ἐγκώμιον...) zweier Personen oder Sachen ist“; vgl. Lausberg, Handbuch 542 (§1130). 55 Philo knüpft in §191a, auch sprachlich, an die grundsätzliche Bestimmung der Protagonisten der Schrift in §4 an. 56 Entsprechendes beobachtet Steven D. Fraade, „Between Rewritten Bible and Allegorical Commentary: Philo’s Interpretation of the Burning Bush“, in: Zsengellér (ed.), Rewritten Bible 221–232; 230, für Philos Mose-Deutung in Mos. 1,65–70. 57 Vgl. Lausberg, Handbuch 236–237 (§431; 433). 58 So ist auch die argumentatio von einer inclusio umschlossen.

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Praxis der Frömmigkeit im Blick, sondern die Seele des Menschen. Biblischer Bezugspunkt der allegorischen Deutung ist der Name „Isaak“. Trotz mancher Übereinstimmungen mit anderen „Isaak“ – Deutungen Philos59 bezieht er sich hier unübersehbar auch auf das Vorausgehende zurück, namentlich auf seine Wiedergabe von Genesis 22 (§168) sowie auf den Schlussteil der confirmatio. Unter rhetorischen Gesichtspunkten folgt auch der allegorische Kommentar der bereits aufgewiesenen Abfolge von exordium (§200),60 argumentatio (§201–207) und einer, wenngleich rudimentären, peroratio (§208a).61 Die narratio setzt Philo voraus. Basis der argumentatio ist mit dem Hinweis auf die Opferung Isaaks wiederum eine „Feststellung unbezweifelten Sicherheitsgrades“, wie sie sich hier in dem, „was in Gesetzen festgelegt ist“, zeigt.62 Der zu erbringende Beweis wird von dieser Basis aus „rational-schlußfolgernd“ geführt.63 II.2 Philo als Schriftausleger am Beispiel von Genesis 22 Wie angedeutet, sind für den Textzusammenhang Abr. 167–208a drei Stufen der Auslegung zu unterscheiden, die deutende Wiedergabe der biblischen Erzählung, ihre erste Kommentierung auf der Ebene des „sensus literalis“, und schließlich der allegorische Kommentar. Aufgabe des Folgenden ist es, Techniken und v.a. Inhalte dieser Auslegungen genauer in den Blick zu nehmen. II.2.1 Philos narratio von Genesis 22 (Abr. 168–177) Philos Textwiedergabe beschränkt sich, wie erwähnt, auf Gen 22,1–12a. Damit ist bereits eine wichtige Vorentscheidung hinsichtlich der Ausrichtung der Textrezeption gefallen. Im Zentrum seiner narratio stehen, wie in der Einleitung §167 angekündigt, Abraham und seine Tat, mit der er dem Gottesspruch Folge leistet (§169–170). Die anderen Akteure, Isaak und v.a. Gott selbst, kommen hier nur insofern in den Blick, als sie das Handeln Abrahams beleuchten.

59

Vgl. Leg. 1,82; 3,85–87; Mut. 1; 131. Zu weiteren Aspekten von Philos Isaak-Deutung vgl. Feldman, Version 267–268. 60 Philo bereitet auch hier den Hörer auf die übrige Rede vor. Dies geschieht dadurch, dass er „wohlwollend, gespannt und aufnahmebereit“ gemacht wird; vgl. Quintilian, Inst 4,1.5. 61 Hier wird der gesamte Auslegungszusammenhang von Genesis 22 abschließend unter das Stichwort der „Frömmigkeit des Mannes“ gestellt. 62 Vgl. Lausberg, Handbuch 197 (§367 mit γ). 63 A.a.O., 197 (§366). Philos Beweisgang gehört dem genus artificiale an, das seine Beweise aus dem vorgegebenen Gegenstand selbst bezieht (vgl. dazu ebd., 193 [§355]), während der Beweisgang im ersten Teil dem genus inartificiale entspricht, das externe Beweise zugrunde legt (vgl. dazu ebd., 191 [§350]).

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Ohne hier in Einzelheiten gehen zu können,64 ist für Philos Verarbeitung des biblischen Textes festzustellen, dass er sich einerseits im Ganzen eng an den Duktus von Genesis 22 hält, viele Begriffe wörtlich übernimmt, auf dem Höhepunkt seiner narratio, dem Dialog zwischen Abraham und Isaak (Abr. 173– 175 // Gen 22,7–8), den biblischen Text sogar zitiert,65 anderes paraphrasiert und seiner Sprache anpasst.66 Andererseits lässt er Elemente des biblischen Textes aus, die er aus inhaltlichen Gründen streicht und durch anderes ersetzt.67 Anderes übergeht er, weil er es für verzichtbar hält68 und Redundanzen zu vermeiden sucht.69 Zudem verschiebt er wiederholt Elemente seiner Vorlage mit dem Ziel, die Dramatik der Erzählung zu steigern.70 Dem dient auch die Verwendung der direkten Rede, die streng auf das Geschehen zwischen Abraham und Isaak begrenzt ist.71 Neben der Verdichtung des Textes von Genesis 22, die sich v.a. in der kompakten Wiedergabe von v. 4–6 in §171 zeigt, erweitert Philo die narratio aber zugleich um die für ihn auch mit Blick auf den

64 Vgl. ausführlich Feldman, Version 270–279. Ebd. erörtert er auch eine Vielzahl von Motiven, die Philos Wiedergabe von Genesis 22 mit anderen Traditionen des antiken Judentums gemeinsam hat, insbesondere mit Josephus, Ant. 222–236, und dem rabbinischen Material; zur Motivik s. auch die nachstehenden Hinweise. 65 Dies ist insofern umso bemerkenswerter, als Philo Zitationen im Allgemeinen eher vermeidet. Im Zitat kommt es zu syntaktischen Veränderungen. Zum Bibeltext Philos vgl. den Forschungsüberblick bei Peder Borgen, Philo of Alexandria: A Critical and Synthetical Survey of Research since World War II (ANRW II 21.1; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1984) 98–154; 121–123, und Benjamin G. Wright, „Translation as Scripture: The Septuagint in Aristeas and Philo“, in: Wolfgang Kraus (Hg.), Septuagint Research: Issues and Challenges in the Study of the Greek Jewish Scriptures (SCS 53; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2006) 47–61. 66 Dies zeigt sich besonders deutlich für den LXX-Begriff ὁλοκάρπωσις (Ganzopfer), der in Genesis 22 insgesamt fünfmal vorkommt (v. 2–3.6–8) und von Philo mit verschiedenen Synonymen wiedergegeben wird. Ähnlich ersetzt er den LXX-Begriff θυσιαστήριον (v. 9; 2–mal) durch βωμός. 67 Vgl. insbesondere Gen 22,1 mit dem Gedanken der Versuchung Abrahams mit Abr. 168; vgl. dazu Feldman, Version 271–272. 68 Vgl. Gen 22,1 (Wortwechsel zwischen Gott und Abraham); v. 5 (ab μετὰ τῆς ὄνου ...); v. 7b (Antwort Abrahams); v. 9a.bβ–γ (mit dem Begriff συμποδίζειν für die Bindung Isaaks). Die übrigen Teile von v. 9 verschiebt Philo. 69 So streicht er v. 8b, der eine Wiederholung von v. 6bβ darstellt, legt den Gedanken in §172 aber betont aus. 70 Vgl. die Position des göttlichen Befehls an Abraham, seinen Sohn zu opfern, in Gen 22,2 // Abr. 168–169; s. ferner Gen 22,9bα, welchen Vers Philo dem Stoff von v. 7 voranstellt (§173). Zusammen mit der Streichung von v. 8b und den sonstigen Streichungen in v. 9 entfällt das retardierende Moment, das in Genesis 22 mit v. 9 erreicht wird. Philo schafft so einen hochdramatischen Erzählzusammenhang, der vom Stoff von v. 8a direkt zur Beschreibung der Tat Abrahams übergeht. 71 Vgl. die Wiedergabe von v. 7–8 in §173.175. Dagegen entfallen in Philos Wiedergabe von Genesis 22 die Dialoge zwischen Gott und Abraham (v. 1–2; v. 11–12), über die nur berichtet wird.

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nachfolgenden Kommentar entscheidende Begründung der Tat Abrahams. Er bietet diese überwiegend im Modus der Erzählung dar.72 In den Genesis 22 interpretierenden Erweiterungen zeigen sich in traditionsgeschichtlicher Hinsicht verschiedentlich Übereinstimmungen mit exegetischen Traditionen des palästinischen Judentums, insbesondere mit Jub, 4Q225 und LAB 32, allesamt Texte, die in der Forschung als Exemplare der Gattung der „Rewritten Bible“ gelten. Zudem gibt es Gemeinsamkeiten mit Traditionen aus Genesis Rabba. Im Folgenden ist nun die inhaltliche Seite der philonischen Wiedergabe von Genesis 22 in Gestalt exegetischer Glossen in den Blick zu nehmen. Philo beginnt die narratio mit dem Hinweis darauf, dem Weisen, d.h. Abraham, sei ein Sohn von seiner rechtmäßigen Frau geboren worden,73 „geliebt und einzig“,74 ausgestattet mit allen körperlichen und seelischen Vorzügen,75 einschließlich der Tugenden. Auch deshalb habe ihn sein Vater über die Maßen geliebt, nicht nur aus natürlicher Zuneigung (εὐνοίας φυσικῆς; §168). Im Unterschied zu seiner Vorlage erzählt Philo vom Befehl Gottes an Abraham, seinen Sohn zu opfern (§169), erst nachdem er zuvor von Abrahams zärtlicher Liebe zu ihm gesprochen hat. So ist von Anfang an deutlich, was Gott ihm abverlangt. Seine übergroße Liebe zu seinem Sohn ist in der narratio, wie später auch im Kommentar, der eine Pol seiner Auslegung von Genesis 22. Die Gottesliebe ist ihr zweiter. Trotz der großen Liebe zu seinem Kind verhält sich Abraham wie ein stoischer Weiser. Er gerät nicht ins Wanken,76 als er den Gottesspruch vernimmt, sondern „besiegt, von der Liebe zu Gott (ἔρωτι ... θείῳ) überwältigt, mit

72

Vgl. §168; 170; 174–175. Den Erzählmodus verlässt Philo nur in §171, wo er die Beladung Isaaks mit Feuer und Holz kommentiert, sowie in §174, wo er auf das Handeln der anderen in einer vergleichbaren Situation reflektiert. 73 Auch in 4Q225 2 i,8 und LAB 32,1 ist die Geburt Isaaks Teil des Auftakts der Wiedergabe von Genesis 22; vgl. auch GenR 56,4. Der Kommentar zur Erzählung verdeutlicht dies (§195). 74 Die LXX liest in Gen 22,2 nur ἀγαπητός. Da Philo Isaak zugleich als μόνος bezeichnet, scheint er eine auch sonst belegte Tradition zu kennen, die um das im MT belegte ‫ יחיד‬weiß; zum Problem vgl. Kundert, Opferung 119–121. Die Frage nach möglichen Hebräischkenntnissen Philos wird bis heute kontrovers diskutiert; vgl. dazu den Forschungsüberblick bei Borgen, Philo 123, sowie Yehoshua Amir, „Authority and Interpretation of Scripture in the Writings of Philo“, in Martin Jan Mulder (ed.), Mikra: Text, Translation, Reading and Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1988) 421–454, der Hebräischkenntisse Philos in Abrede stellt, während Tessa Rajak, „Philo's Knowledge of Hebrew: The Meaning of the Etymologies“, in James K. Aitken and James Carleton Paget (ed.), The Jewish-Greek Tradition in Antiquity and the Byzantine Empire (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014) 173–187, mit solchen rechnet. 75 Körper und Seele sind auch in §172 (Isaak) und §175 (Abraham) verbunden. 76 Auch dieses Motiv findet sich in dem ins 1. Jh. n.Chr. gehörenden Text LAB 32,2. Es reflektiert sich auch in TFrag zu Gen 22,10 und GenR 56,4.

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(ganzer) Kraft (ἀνὰ κράτος) alles, was verwandtschaftliche Liebe heißt“77 und kommt dem Befehl nach (§170). Im Zwiespalt zwischen der Liebe zu seinem Sohn und der Liebe zu Gott stellt er die natürliche Liebe zum Kind hintan und lässt sich von seiner Liebe zu Gott bezwingen. So klingt hier bei aller Unerschütterlichkeit Abrahams doch zugleich ein innerer Kampf an. Wie im Weiteren noch klarer hervortreten wird, deutet er die Tat Abrahams im Horizont des „Höre Israel“ mit dem Gebot der Gottesliebe. So dürfte ἀνὰ κράτος in Verbindung mit ἔρωτι ... θείῳ als Umschreibung des Gebots Dtn 6,5, Gott mit „ganzer δύναμις“ zu lieben, zu verstehen sein. Im Sinne Philos ist diese Deutung keineswegs anachronistisch, da in Abraham die ungeschriebenen Gesetze verkörpert sind, die Gesetze des Mose aber nichts anderes sind als „Kommentare zum Leben der Alten“ (Abr. 5). Nach einer gedrängten Wiedergabe von Gen 22,4–6 kommentiert Philo die Beladung Isaaks mit Feuer und Holz mit den Worten, dies zu tragen sei eine leichte Last für die Frömmigkeit (§171). Auffallend ist, dass mit dieser Aussage Isaak als handelndes Subjekt, wenn auch in aller Zurückhaltung, in den Blick kommt.78 In §173–175 unterbricht Philo den Dialog zwischen Isaak und Abraham (Gen 22,7–8) zunächst mit einem Kommentar, in dem er, die Erzählform sprengend, darauf reflektiert, was andere angesichts der Worte Isaaks getan hätten. Nach Maßgabe der Rhetorik arbeitet Philo hier mit dem Mittel der Synkrisis, deren Funktion es ist, das Lob des Gelobten zu vermehren.79 Er zeigt sich davon überzeugt, dass andere nicht standgehalten, sondern ihrem Kind durch ihre „heftige Leidenschaft“ (περιπάθησις) verraten hätten, dass es selbst das Opfer sein würde (§174).80 Abraham dagegen hat sich ganz und gar unter Kontrolle, zeigt keinerlei Veränderung (τροπή) und antwortet Isaak mit Gen 22,8, dass Gott selbst sich ein Opfer ersehen werde. Während andere also trotz allen Bemühens dem stoisch in der Kritik stehenden πάθος nachgeben würden, bewährt sich Abraham als singulärer Weiser, der die Tugend der Unerschütterlichkeit praktiziert: Er lässt keinerlei Veränderung zu,81 weder körperlich noch seelisch (κατὰ τὴν διάνοιαν), sondern „spricht mit festem Blick und festem Verstand (τῷ λογισμῷ)“ zu seinem Sohn (§175). 77

ἔρωτι ... θείῳ δεδαμασμένος ἀνὰ κράτος ἐνίκα πάντα ὅσα συγγενείας ὀνόματα καὶ φίλτρα. In der frühjüdischen Deutung, beginnend mit 4Q225 2 ii,4, zeigt sich dies wiederholt; für das 1. Jh. n.Chr. vgl. wiederum LAB 32,3, wo dieses Motiv großes Gewicht erhält. S. ferner TFrag zu Gen 22,10 und GenR 56,4. 79 Vgl. Aristoteles, Rhet. 1,9.38. 80 Sog. Zwischenschaltungen kennzeichnen in rhetorischer Hinsicht die narratio partilis; sie können auch argumenta sein; vgl. Lausberg, Handbuch 167 (§292). 81 Damit nimmt Philo ein Motiv aus §170 auf, das dort – ebenfalls im Kontext der Rede von der Gottesliebe – u.a. mit dem Lexem ἀκλινής ausgedrückt wird. Es wird wiederum im Kontext der Erörterung der Gottesliebe, in dem im Folgenden thematisierten Ausschnitt aus Dec. 64 in Gestalt des griechischen Verbes ὑποκατακλίνειν aufgenommen. 78

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Auch hier liegt eine Anspielung auf das „Höre Israel“ vor. Dies legt der Vergleich mit Dec. 64 nahe, wo es in freier Wiedergabe von Dtn 6,5 heißt: „vielmehr wollen wir uns mit Seele (διανοίᾳ), Verstand (λόγῳ) und aller Kraft (πάσῃ δυνάμει)82 dem Dienst des Ungewordenen und Ewigen und der Ursache von allem zurüsten, ... nicht wanken (ὑποκατακλινόμενοι) und nicht weichen“.83 Die sprachlichen und sachlichen Übereinstimmungen sprechen für eine Bezugnahme auf Dtn 6,5. Philo spielt in seiner narratio mit ἀνὰ κράτος (§170), κατὰ τὴν διάνοιαν und λογισμῷ (§175) somit auf alle Elemente des Bibelverses an. In jedem Fall scheinen sich in der Frage der Gottesliebe Abrahams stoisches und jüdisches Denken harmonisch zu verbinden. Die Antwort an Isaak aus Gen 22,8 erweitert Philo unter Anspielung auf 18,14. Weil Gott alles möglich ist, was bei Menschen unmöglich ist, vermag er sich auch in der Einöde ein Opfer zu ersehen. Da hier kaum mit einer ironischen oder täuschenden Aussage zu rechnen ist, ist davon auszugehen, dass Abraham im Sinne Philos tatsächlich die Hoffnung auf eine Intervention Gottes hegt (§175),84 wie sie in §176 denn auch berichtet wird: Gott erweist sich als Retter (ὁ σωτὴρ θεός), indem er Abraham, der das Schwert bereits schwingt, in actu Einhalt gebietet (§176). Die Rettung Isaaks (ὁ ... διασῴζεται) deutet Philo als göttliche Belohnung für die Frömmigkeitstat Abrahams (§177). Wie gesehen, weiß Philo, dass Abrahams Verhalten auch anders beurteilt werden kann, als er es tut. Für diesen Fall empfiehlt die Rhetorik, das Unterbewusstsein der Adressaten mit psychologischen Mitteln zu bearbeiten.85 Auch Philo arbeitet mit diesen Mitteln. So setzt er v.a. das docere ein, das die Entsprechung von Erzählungsinhalt und den „normalen Lebenserfahrungen ... 82 διάνοια umschreibt also καρδία, λόγος gibt ψυχή wieder, δύναμις ist beiden Stellen gemeinsam. Die von Philo für „Herz“ gewählte Umschreibung entspricht einer möglichen Bedeutung von καρδία im Griechischen. So gilt das „Herz“ nicht nur als Sitz der Emotionen, sondern ist auch Sitz „des Denkvermögens u(nd) der Entschlüsse“ (vgl. Passow, Handwӧrterbuch I/2 1584, s.v. 2a; 2b) wie auch διάνοια die Bedeutung „denkendes Vermögen“ haben kann (vgl. ebd., I/1 653). Philos Umschreibungsversuche kongruieren mit ähnlichen Versuchen der Zeit wie Mk 12,33 zeigt, wo καρδία wörtlich erscheint, ψυχή mit σύνεσις – d.h. wie bei Philo mit einem Begriff, der sich auf die Verstandeskraft bezieht – wiedergegeben und auch für δύναμις mit ἰσχύς eine Umschreibung gesucht wird. Auch die rabbinische Tradition findet Umschreibungen für einzelne Elemente von Dtn 6,5. Nach jBer 9,7 (14b) deutet R. Akiva ‫ מאודך‬auf das Vermögen im Sinne von ‫ממון‬, wohingegen er ‫ נפשׁך‬auf die Hingabe des eigenen Lebens deutet. ‫ לבבך‬bleibt ungedeutet; zu jBer 9,7 vgl. Gudrun Holtz, Der Herrscher und der Weise im Gespräch. Studien zu Form, Funktion und Situation der neutestamentlichen Verhörgespräche und der Gespräche zwischen jüdischen Weisen und Fremdherrschern (ANTZ 6; Berlin: Institut Kirche und Judentum, 1996) 190–197. 83 Dec. 64 wird als Anspielung auf Dtn 6,5 von Biblia Patristica zu Philo ausgewiesen. 84 Die Hoffnung ist für Philo eine Tugend, die durch Enosch repräsentiert wird (§7–8) und die Abraham in seinem Vertrauen auf den verheißenden Gott bewährt; vgl. Abr. 262–275, bes. §268. 85 Lausberg, Handbuch 180 (§323).

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suggeriert“. Er plausibilisiert diesen, den Vorgaben der Rhetorik entsprechend, mit dem, was die natura fordert, konkret: mit der natürlichen Zuneigung Abrahams zu seinem Sohn (Abr. 168; 170).86 Die Verbindung mit den Erfahrungen der Adressatenschaft kann zudem durch die Schilderung des Charakters, insbesondere der Leidenschaften, „in erster Linie des Täters ... der Handlung“, hergestellt werden.87 Dies zeigt sich hier in Philos Betonung der übergroßen Liebe Abrahams zu seinem Sohn. All dies bezieht sich ausschließlich auf das Verhältnis Abrahams zu Isaak. Demgegenüber bleibt sein sich im Opfer Isaaks artikulierender Akt der Gottesliebe, wie Philo selbst andeutet, der normalen Lebenserfahrung unzugänglich (§174–175). In der Rhetorik entspricht dies dem Begriff der Unglaubwürdigkeit. Quintilian rät für diesen Fall, offen zuzugeben, dass die Sache „kaum zu glauben sei, aber es sei wahr“.88 Obwohl Philo sich in dem untersuchten Zusammenhang eng an den rhetorischen Traditionen orientiert, befolgt er diesen Rat nicht. Er argumentiert stattdessen inhaltlich mit den Eigenschaften eines stoischen Weisen, als welchen er Abraham hier darstellt. Abraham lässt sich nicht von seinen πάθη für Isaak bestimmen, sondern erfüllt das stoische Ideal der Unerschütterlichkeit, indem er, von der Liebe zu Gott beherrscht, Isaak opfert. So vermag Philo das kaum zu glaubende, weil nach den gängigen Kategorien der Natur widersprechende Verhalten Abrahams unter Rückgriff auf das Ideal des stoischen Weisen philosophisch zu plausibilisieren. Dennoch bleibt eine unüberbrückbare Spannung: Stoisch ist es allein der Weise, der mit der Natur umfassend übereinstimmt (κατὰ φύσιν ζῆν). Obwohl Philo dieses Ideal teilt (§5–6), ist es mit dem radikalen Akt der Gottesliebe Abrahams unvereinbar. Im Schlussteil der confirmatio, dem eigentlichen Kommentar zur narratio, erörtert Philo dieses Spannungsverhältnis. II.2.2 Der Kommentar zum Wortsinn der Erzählung: Die Gottesliebe im Widerstreit mit der φύσις (§191b–198) Was sich in der narratio bereits andeutet, bringt Philo im Schlussteil der confirmatio auf den Punkt. Dieser Teil folgt im Aufriss weitgehend der narratio. Abrahams Verhalten bringt er dabei auf drei Begriffe: Gehorsam, Gottesliebe und Frömmigkeit. Es steht in einem unüberbrückbaren Gegensatz zum stoisch geprägten Verständnis der Natur, wie er in dem hier zur Debatte stehenden Auslegungszusammenhang zur Sprache gebracht wird. Der Gehorsam Abrahams wird zunächst als der von allen vernünftig denkenden (εὖ φρονοῦσι) Menschen angestrebte Gehorsam gegen Gott (πείθεσθαι 86

Vgl. a.a.O., 182 (§326). Dieses Argument hat nach Quintilian, Inst 5,10.16, den „stärkste(n) Grad der Glaubwürdigkeit“ unter den „glaubhaften Vorgängen“, weil es „fast immer gilt, z.B. ‚daß die Kinder von ihren Eltern geliebt werden‘“. 87 Vgl. Lausberg, Handbuch 182–183 (§328). 88 Inst 4,2.56; vgl. auch Lausberg, Handbuch 180 (§323).

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θεῷ) bestimmt und dann im Weiteren als umfassender Gebotsgehorsams präzisiert. Als solcher realisiert er hier die oberste griechische Kardinaltugend, die Verständigkeit bzw. Klugheit. Diesen der Vernunft gemäßen Gehorsam bewährt Abraham, als der Befehl an ihn ergeht, seinen Sohn zu opfern, indem er standhaft bleibt (§192).89 Damit knüpft Philo an das Proömium zu De Abrahamo an, wo er Abraham zu den Männern zählt, die ethisch vollkommen und Archetypen der in der Schrift niedergelegten Tugenden sind (§3–4). Als solche sind sie die lebendige und vernünftige Verkörperung der Gesetze (§5).90 Vernunft, Tugend und Gesetz, wie sie in Abraham aufleuchten, stehen somit allesamt in „Übereinstimmung mit der Natur (ἀκολουθίαν φύσεως)“,91 die selbst „die älteste Ordnung“ ist (§6). Mit seinen Aussagen in §192 erneuert Philo den Anspruch, dass das Handeln seines Protagonisten mit den Überzeugungen der Stoa übereinstimmt. Der durch und durch tugendhafte, die Vernunft in Übereinstimmung mit der Natur realisierende Abraham ist, wie erwähnt, der „erste“, der „mit einer ganz neuen und außergewöhnlichen Tat begonnen hat“. Das Neue an dieser Tat ist allerdings ihr Gegensatz zur Natur. Wie bereits in der narratio betont, vollbringt Abraham was kein anderer hätte tun können. Dazu zitiert Philo einen anonym bleibenden Autor mit den Worten: „Mit der Natur zu kämpfen ist schwer (φύσει ... ἔργον μάχεσθαι)“ (§193). Diesen Kampf hat Abraham angenommen und hat das (natürliche) πάθος der Liebe, mit dem alle Eltern ihren Kindern begegnen (§194), und die besondere (ebenfalls natürliche) Liebe, die alte Eltern für ihr spät geborenes Kind empfinden,92 hintangestellt (§195). Er hat zudem Größeres vollbracht als Eltern, die eines ihrer Kinder aus einer großen Kinderschar opfern: Aber einer, der einen einzigen geliebten (μόνον ... ἀγαπητόν; Sohn) hat und ihn hingibt (διδούς), bringt ein größeres Werk (μεῖζον ἔργον) zu Ende, als irgendein Wort (es ausdrücken kann). Denn er macht der Verwandtschaft (οἰκειότητι) kein Zugeständnis, sondern lässt das ganze Gewicht zur Gottesliebe (πρὸς τὸ θεοφιλές)93 hin ausschwingen (§196).

Hier wird die φύσις, wie sie sich in verwandtschaftlichen Beziehungen zeigt,94 explizit in den Gegensatz zur Gottesliebe gestellt. Die innermenschliche Liebe – und sei es die zu dem einzigen geliebten Sohn – steht in Antithese zur

89 Der Begriff des Gehorsams selbst fällt in der narratio nicht, ist der Sache nach aber vorausgesetzt, da Abraham auch dort dem göttlichen Befehl (§169) entsprechend handelt. 90 Vgl. auch mQidd 4,14: „Abraham, unser Vater, hat das Gesetz ganz beachtet, bevor es da war, denn es heißt: ‚Abraham hörte auf meine Stimme und hielt meine Rechte, meine Gebote, meine Satzungen und meine Gesetze‘ (Gen 26,5)“. 91 Der Natur-Begriff fällt in §5–6 insgesamt dreimal, jeweils bezogen auf die Übereinstimmung mit der Natur, wird also pointiert vorangestellt. 92 Vgl. dazu §170 in der narratio. 93 So mit Cohn, „Ueber Abraham“ 196; dazu s.u. Anm. 111. 94 Die beiden Begrifflichkeiten finden sich bereits in §168; 170.

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Gottesliebe. So tritt bei Abraham auseinander, was in der griechisch-römischen Tradition zusammengehört, die Religion als Verehrung des Göttlichen und die innerfamiliäre Liebe.95 Um die Größe der Tat Abrahams zu verdeutlichen, vergleicht Philo sie mit den Kinderopfern anderer Völker. Halten sich die Eltern üblicherweise vom Ort der Opferung fern (§197), beginnt Abraham in der Art eines Priesters die Opferhandlung selbst zu vollziehen.96 Was dies für Abraham bedeutet, bringt Philo – in Übereinstimmung mit der narratio – in einem Parallelismus begrifflich erneut auf die Antithese von Frömmigkeit und Natur in Gestalt der Blutsverwandtschaft. So neigte (ἀπέκλινε) er sich nicht teils zum Kind, teils zur Frömmigkeit (πρὸς εὐσέβειαν), sondern teilte die ganze Seele (ὅλην τὴν ψυχήν) ganz und gar der Religion (ὁσιότητι)97 zu und war (dabei) wenig auf das verwandtschaftliche Blut (συγγενικοῦ αἵματος) bedacht (§198).

Kind und verwandtschaftliches Blut repräsentieren die Seite der φύσις, Frömmigkeit und Religion die der Gottesliebe. Frömmigkeit ist für Philo, wie gesehen, die oberste Tugend. Er interpretiert hier also das von ihm in der narratio als Gottesliebe gedeutete Verhalten Abrahams im Sinne der griechischen Tugenden. Auch hier spielt er auf das „Höre Israel“ an und zwar wiederum in Verbindung mit dem stoischen Motiv der Unerschütterlichkeit, das wie zuvor durch κλινεῖν κτλ. zum Ausdruck gebracht wird98. So suggeriert Philo auch hier, dass die von Abraham geübte Gottesliebe die Tugenden realisiert. Ohne zu wanken, teilt Abraham „die ganze Seele“ der Religion zu,99 was im Licht von Dtn 6,5 nichts anderes bedeutet, als dass er Gott mit „ganzer Seele“ liebt (ἐξ ὅλης τῆς ψυχῆς σου). Anders als in der narratio ist die Entsprechung hier

95

Vgl. Cicero, Part. 78 (erga deos religio, erga parentes pietas); Part. 80 (colendo aut divinis rebus deserviendo aut parentibus, amicis, hospitibus). Bei Philo ist es allerdings, den Vorgaben von Genesis 22 gemäß, die Liebe des Vaters zum Sohn, nicht umgekehrt. 96 Hier begegnet erneut das bereits für §174 beobachtete Darstellungsmittel der Synkrisis bzw. comparatio. Darauf folgt eine weitere amplificatio. Abraham ist nicht nur bereit, seinen Sohn zu opfern. Philo steigert dies mit der Erwägung, Abraham hätte Isaak dem Opfergesetz entsprechend sogar in Stücke zerteilt. 97 Von dem hier für den Begriff ὁσιότης in Frage kommenden Bedeutungsspektrum „Frömmigkeit, Gottesfurcht, Heiligkeit der Gesinnung, Religion“ (Passow, Handwӧrterbuch II/1 555, s.v. 1) scheidet die zweite Bedeutung aus. Philo übernimmt gerade nicht den in Genesis 22,12 vorgegebenen Begriff der Gottesfurcht, sondern deutet das Motiv auf Abrahams Gottesliebe. 98 Vgl. §170; 175 // §192; 198. S. auch oben Anm. 81. 99 So interpretiert, wie bereits für §175 und Dec. 64 gesehen, auch hier die Gottesliebe das Nichtwanken Abrahams. Ähnlich wie in dem vorliegenden Zusammenhang stellt 4Makk 7,18; 13,13, das Selbstopfer der makkabäischen Märtyrer für die Frömmigkeit (o.ä.) in den Horizont von Dtn 6,5; vgl. auch jBer 9,7 (14b).

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fast wörtlich.100 Die Deutung der Opferung Isaaks im Licht von Dtn 6,5, die dort erst hinter Philos Paraphrasen exegetisch zu gewinnen war, erhält hier mit der wörtlichen Anspielung auf v 5 erst eine zuvor unerreichte Eindeutigkeit. Indem sich Abraham in diesem von Philo als Dilemma zwischen Gottesliebe und Liebe zum eigenen Sohn interpretierten inneren Konflikt jedoch ohne Wenn und Aber für die Gottesliebe entscheidet, handelt er, obwohl er ein Weiser ist, faktisch gegen den stoischen Grundsatz der „Übereinstimmung mit der Natur“, dem der stoische Weise jedenfalls folgt. Die Erfüllung des göttlichen Gebots, Isaak zu opfern, bringt Abraham in den Gegensatz zur Natur. Das aber heißt, dass das Zentralgebot der Gottesliebe, dessen Befolgung Philo auch für den Normalfall jüdischer Existenz, wenngleich in weniger dramatischer Form, einfordert (§199), seine Behauptung in Abr. 5–6 in Frage stellt, wonach das geschriebene Gesetz mit der Natur übereinstimmt. Dies gilt entsprechend auch für seine Behauptung des Vernunftcharakters des Gesetzes (§4), sofern die Vernunft im stoischen Sinn verstanden wird. So scheint Philo bei allem Bemühen, das jüdische Gesetz und den jüdischen Weisen mit den philosophischen Idealen seiner Zeit kompatibel zu machen, den Begriff des Weisen ganz eigenständig zu bestimmen. Dem entspricht es, dass für Philo nicht Klugheit und vernünftiges Denken die oberste Tugend sind, sondern die Frömmigkeit, die inhaltlich durch eine Gottesliebe bestimmt ist, die die Grenzen der Vernunft sprengt. Sie folgt ihren eigenen Regeln, die keineswegs durchgängig mit den rezipierten philosophischen Idealen übereinstimmen. Seine Auslegung von Genesis 22 zeigt exemplarisch, dass Philo stoisches Gedankengut nur insoweit rezipiert, als es nicht mit seinem Gottesverständnis kollidiert.101 Philos Deutung der Opferung Isaaks als eines Aktes der Gottesliebe stellt im Raum des Frühjudentums keine Innovation dar. Sie findet sich bereits im frühen 2. Jh. v.Chr. in Jub 17,18, wo Abraham unmittelbar vor der eigentlichen Wiedergabe von Genesis 22 als „treu“ und als „ein Gottliebender“ bezeichnet wird. Wenig später in 4Q225 2 ii,10 ist es Gott selbst, der Abraham aufgrund der Nichtverschonung seines Sohnes einen ‫אוהב‬, einen (Gott) Liebenden,

100 Es handelt sich hier lediglich um eine Kasus-Verschiebung. Die Bezugnahme legt sich auch darum nahe, weil sich in §198, wie bereits für die narratio gesehen, die Vorstellung des Hinneigens bzw. der Veränderung mit der Wendung aus Dtn 6,5 verbindet. Zur Rezeption dieses Textes vgl. auch Spec. 1,300, wo der biblische Text wiederum nicht zitiert, sondern paraphrasiert wird, dabei aber dennoch wörtliche Übernahmen festzustellen sind: Was Gott zur vernünftigen Seele (διάνοια; §299) sagt, ist dies: „ihn als Wohltäter zu lieben (ἀγαπᾶν αὐτὸν ὡς εὐεργέτην)“ bzw., wenn dies zu schwierig ist, ihn „als Herrscher und Herrn zu fürchten“; ersteres deutet er auf das Dienen „mit ganzer Seele (ὅλῃ τῇ ψυχῇ), die erfüllt ist von einem gottliebenden Sinn (γνώμης φιλοθέου)“. 101 Vgl. dazu auch Gudrun Holtz, Die Nichtigkeit des Menschen und die Übermacht Gottes. Studien zur Gottes- und Selbsterkenntnis bei Paulus, Philo und in der Stoa (WUNT 377; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck 2017) 292–341.

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nennt, wie dies ähnlich auch die spätere rabbinische Tradition tut.102 Jub und 4Q225 sind Exemplare der Gattung „Rewritten Bible“ und deuten Abraham, wie Philo auch, in der erzählenden Wiedergabe von Genesis 22 als einen Gottliebenden.103 Neu ist in diesem Zusammenhang seine Interpretation der Gottesliebe Abrahams als Realisierung des „Höre Israel“, die aber auch im palästinischen Judentum denkbar wäre. Die philosophische Auseinandersetzung hingegen, in die Philo seine Deutung stellt, ist der spezifische Beitrag dieses alexandrinischen Juden zur Deutungsgeschichte von Genesis 22. Sie ist in Abr. 167–199 Teil einer umfassender angelegten Kontroverse mit nichtjüdischem Denken. Die Opferung Isaaks als Akt der Gottesliebe versteht er im Unterschied zu den Kinderopfern der Völker als ganz und gar zweckfrei. Sie ist ausschließlich ein Akt des Gehorsams gegen Gott. An anderer Stelle kennzeichnet Philo ein solches Handeln als ein Dienen Gottes „um seinetwillen“, das er von einem Dienen um der eigenen Person (δι’ ἑαυτούς) willen, d.h. wegen einer Belohnung, unterscheidet. Nur die erste, höherwertige Form, Gott zu dienen, hat ihren Platz im Kontext der φιλία als eines Verhältnisses wechselseitigen Wohlwollens bzw. wechselseitiger Zuneigung (§128–129).104 So sehr es Philo bewusst ist, dass Abrahams Opfer als Akt seiner Gottesliebe gegen die Natur im stoischen Sinn verstößt,105 so ist sein Verständnis der Opferung Isaaks als eines ganz und gar zweckfreien, um seiner selbst willen geschehenden Handelns doch zugleich stoisch geprägt.106 Wie erwähnt, ist für Philo Abrahams Gehorsamstat aus Liebe zu Gott „eine ganz neue und außergewöhnliche Tat“, die er „als erster ... begonnen“ hat (§193). Formgeschichtlich weist eine solche Charakterisierung des Handelns in die Lobrede, um die es sich bei dem biographisch akzentuierten Enkomium De Abrahamo ja handelt. In der damit verwandten Gattung der hellenistischen Biographie haben solche Taten die Funktion, „‚Gründungsmythen‘ für 102 In Wiedergabe von Gen 22,12 heißt es in 4Q225 2 ii,9–10: „Und er (sc. Gott) sagte: Und jetzt [habe ich allen kundgetan, dass es wie dich] keinen Liebenden (‫ )אוהב‬geben wird“; s. ähnlich GenR 56,7 (‫)הודעתי לכל שׁאת אוהבני‬. Der MT liest: ‫כי עתה ידעתי כי־ירא אלוהים אתה‬. 103 Diese Dimension der Person Abrahams fehlt bei Nancy Calvert-Koyzis, Art. „Abraham. III. Judaism. A. Second Temple and Hellenistic Judaism“, in EBR 1 (2009) 162–168, ganz. Feldman, Version 272, und Niehoff, Philon 149, erwähnen in ihrer Deutung von Gen 22,12 in Abr. 167–199 zwar die Gottesliebe Abrahams, ohne jedoch ihre Tragweite für den Zusammenhang deutlich zu machen. Entgegen Philos eigener Akzentuierung sieht Niehoff hier die „Tugend der Gottesfurcht“ veranschaulicht. 104 Vgl. Passow, Handwӧrterbuch II/2 2261. 105 Vermutlich sieht er dies dadurch legitimiert, dass Gott jenseits der Natur ist, sofern diese sich Gott selbst verdankt. 106 Vgl. dazu Rolf Noormann, Ad salutem consulere. Die Paränese Cyprians im Kontext antiken und frühchristlichen Denkens (FKDG 99; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2009) 290 mit Anm. 272. Dennoch würde Philo die Aussage Senecas: „... uirtutum omnium pretium in ipsis est“ (Seneca, Ep. 81,19) nicht unkommentiert lassen, weil Gott auch denen, die ihn allein um seinetwillen lieben, eine Belohnung zuteilwerden lässt; vgl. Abr. 128–129.

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philosophische Schulen ... zu schaffen“.107 Da in Philos βίος des Weisen, auch und gerade bei seiner Deutung von Genesis 22, Epideiktik und Symbuleutik eng aufeinander bezogen sind, dürfte Abrahams Tat der Gottesliebe, die er bei der Opferung Isaaks in einer sein ganzes sonstiges Handeln übersteigenden Weise vollbracht hat (§167),108 für Philo in der Tat als Gründungsmythos des Judentums zu verstehen sein. Darauf deuten auch textexterne wie textinterne Gründe. Ausweislich von Aristeas 159 ist die auf Dtn 6,8 zurückgehende Praxis, die Worte von 6,4–5, niederzuschreiben, sie zu rezitieren und sie auf Hand und Stirn zu binden, spätestens seit dem 2. Jh. v. Chr. auch in Alexandrien feste Praxis109 und daher auch Philo sicher bekannt. Daran dürfte er denken, wenn er seine Leserschaft dazu auffordert, sich die Tat Abrahams wenigstens zu einem noch so kleinen Teil zu Herzen zu nehmen (§199).110 Abraham ist für Philo Archetyp (§3) einer umfassenden Gottesliebe, wie sie im „Höre Israel“ gefordert ist. Dass Abraham Nachfolger gefunden hat, deutet Philo in De Abrahamo selbst an. So heißt es bereits in §50, Vater, Sohn und Enkel, d.h. Abraham, Isaak und Jakob, seien „zugleich Gottliebende (φιλοθέους) und Gottgeliebte (θεοφιλεῖς)“ gewesen, solche also, „die den wahren Gott liebten (ἀγαπήσαντας) und von ihm wiedergeliebt wurden (ἀνταγαπηθέντας)“. Das Lexem ἀγαπᾶν verweist in den Sprachgebrauch der LXX; im weiteren Kontext der Schrift ist eine Anspielung auf die Zentralstelle Dtn 6,5 zu vermuten, die Philo im Sinne der – auch im Deuteronomium vorausgesetzten – Wechselseitigkeit dieses Verhältnisses der Liebe interpretiert. In §98 führt er den Gedanken weiter und bezeichnet das aus der Ehe von Abraham und Sara hervorgehende Volk als „τὸ θεοφιλέστατον der Völker, das, wie mir schient, für das ganze Menschengeschlecht Priesterschaft und Prophetie empfangen hat“ (§98). Der Begriff θεοφιλής dürfte von §50 her zunächst als „gottgeliebt“ zu verstehen sein, seiner Doppelbedeutung gemäß aber auch den Aspekt „gottliebend“ mit umfassen.111

107

Vgl. Dormeyer, Evangelium 164. Die zweite große Tat der Gottesliebe Abrahams ist seine von Philo ebenfalls als außergewöhnlich interpretierte Bereitschaft, dem göttlichen Befehl, Vaterland und Verwandtschaft zu verlassen (Gen 12,1), nachzukommen. In Abr. 66 bezeichnet er die Gottesliebe als ἔρος ... οὐράνιος, in §89 umschreibt er sie mit dem Begriff θεοφιλής. 109 Vgl. Shemu’el Safrai, “Religion in Everyday Life“, in ders. / Menachem Stern (Hg.), The Jewish People in the First Century. Historical Geography, Political History, Social, Cultural and Religious Life and Institutions (CRINT I/2; Assen-Maastricht: Van Corcum; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 19872) 793–833; 799. 110 Diese Deutung setzt voraus, dass sich Philo hier, wie oben begründet, vorwiegend an eine jüdische Leserschaft wendet. 111 θεοφιλής bedeutet seinem lexikalischen Sinn nach „von Gott ... geliebt“ (Passow, Handwӧrterbuch I/2 1393), wohingegen φιλόθεος „Gott liebend“ meint (ebd., II/2, 2268). Kontextbedingt kann ersterer Begriff aber auch „Gott liebend“ bedeuten. So ist θεοφιλής (§89) mit ἔρος 108

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Damit ist Abraham auch textintern als Archetyp der Gottesliebe gezeichnet, bezogen auf seine unmittelbaren Nachkommen, aber auch auf Israel als das Gott schauende Volk (§56–57). Mit §199 wird die aktuelle Leserschaft aufgefordert, sich dieser ihrer Bestimmung gemäß zu verhalten. II.2.3 Die allegorische Deutung der Opferung Isaaks (§200–208a) Die allegorische Interpretation setzt inhaltlich einen ganz eigenen Schwerpunkt, der einer ausführlicheren Würdigung bedürfte als sie im Rahmen dieses Beitrags zu Abraham als Archetyp der Gottesliebe zu leisten ist. Dennoch ist sie mit Blick auf die Technik der Schriftauslegung Philos in dem auf Genesis 22 bezogenen exegetischen Zusammenhang als Ganzem aufzunehmen. Die Enthüllung des verborgenen Sinns der Erzählung, die Philo im Rahmen einer kurzen Einleitung ankündigt (§200), nimmt ihren Ausgang – in markantem Unterschied zur wörtlichen Auslegung – lediglich von zwei Begriffen der biblischen Erzählung, dem „Geopfertwerden (σφαγιάζεσθαι)“ dessen, der den Namen „Isaak“ trägt. Ins Griechische übersetzt, heiße dieser „Lachen (γέλως)“ (§201). Während sich das Verb σφαγιάζεσθαι sowohl in der narratio als auch in der sie kommentierenden argumentatio findet, erwähnt Philo den Namen Isaak hier zum ersten Mal. Zuvor bezeichnet er ihn als Sohn bzw. Kind Abrahams. Dennoch setzt die allegorische Auslegung die vorausgehende Deutung von Genesis 22 begrifflich wie motivisch voraus und knüpft inhaltlich insbesondere an die bereits im Schlussteil der confirmatio aufgezeigten Seelenäußerungen Abrahams, aber auch an die narratio selbst an. Im Einzelnen ergibt sich dabei folgendes Bild: So wird Abraham hier wie dort als Weiser bezeichnet, dessen Opfer nun aber allegorisch auf die Opferung der Seele des Weisen

οὐράνιος (§66), worauf das Adjektiv zurückverweist, zu füllen; Entsprechendes gilt für das Adjektiv in §167, das in §170 durch ἔρως ... θεῖος präzisiert wird. In §196 kann es nur diese Bedeutung haben. Vermutlich verwendet Philo den Begriff in diesem Sinn, weil verwandte Lexeme wie θεοφιλία und θεόφιλος auch „Liebe zu Gott“ o.ä. bedeuten können (ebd., I/2 1393); Sonderbedeutungen sind bei Philo alles andere als selten. Es kommt hinzu, dass sich in Abr. 50; 128 ein argumentatives Muster zeigt, demzufolge die Gottesliebe eine Belohnung vonseiten Gottes aus sich heraussetzt. Es zeigt sich auch in §98, wo zunächst davon die Rede ist, dass Abraham für die Praktizierung der Tugenden der Rechtschaffenheit und der Frömmigkeit als Belohnung eine intakt gebliebene Ehe erhielt. Im Weiteren erhält (λαχεῖν) der ἔθνος ... τὸ θεοφιλέστατον Priestertum und Prophetie. Auch diese Aussage entspricht dem aufgezeigten Muster, so dass der in Frage stehende Terminus hier wohl doch v.a. eine Handlung des Volkes bezeichnet, die die Gottesliebe wäre. Auch sonst wird θεοφιλής in diesem Beitrag meist mit „gottliebend“ wiedergegeben. Dies wird nicht zuletzt dadurch nahegelegt, dass es Philo in De Abrahamo v.a. um die Illustration der Tugend der Frömmigkeit geht, die ja eine Aktivität des Menschen bezeichnet.

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gedeutet wird.112 Wie zuvor wird auch im allegorischen Kommentar die Tugendhaftigkeit des Weisen betont, die sich auch hier darin konkretisiert, dass er Gott und seinem Willen folgt.113 Dass der Weg der Tugend im Gegensatz zu den Leidenschaften (πάθη) und Lastern steht (§204), wird auch hier herausgestellt. Auch im allegorischen Kommentar partizipiert der Weise an den Mühen und Schmerzen der menschlichen Existenz.114 Während hier die von Gott dem Weisen gegebene Freude den Ausgleich schafft, ist es in der dem Wortsinn geltenden Deutung die Belohnung für seinen Gehorsam.115 Für beide Formen des Ausgleichs verwendet Philo die Wendung „das Geschenk zurückgeben“ (τὸ δῶρον ἀντιχαρίζεσθαι o.ä.; §177//203). Schließlich nimmt Philo in beiden Zusammenhängen auf Genesis 18 Bezug. In der narratio spielt er mit der Aussage, bei Gott sei nichts unmöglich, auf v 14 (§175), im allegorischen Kommentar mit dem Lachen Saras auf v 15 an (§206).116

So baut der verborgene (ἄδηλος) Sinn des Textes auf dem wörtlichen (ῥητός) und offenbaren (φανερός; §200) sachlich auf. Inhaltlich lässt sich die allegorische Deutung der Opferung Isaaks folgendermaßen zusammenfassen: Indem der Weise „Isaak“ als das Symbol des Lachens opfert, anerkennt er, dass Gott allein die Freude zukommt (§202). Denn die menschliche Seele ist in grundlegender Weise durch Schmerz bestimmt. Weil Gott aber „gütig und menschenfreundlich“ ist, gibt er den Tugendhaften, die die Differenz zwischen Gott und Menschen anerkennen (§203) und ihm und seinem Willen folgen (§204), Anteil an der Freude. Diese ist selbst beim Weisen eine mit Schmerz gemischte Freude, überwiegt jedoch die negativen Emotionen (§205). Philo exemplifiziert dies freilich nicht an Abraham, sondern an Sara (§205–206). So erweisen sich die drei Auslegungen zu Genesis 22 bei allen Unterschieden als vielfach verflochten. Die erste Auslegung ist die erzählende Wiedergabe des Bibeltextes in der narratio, die weit mehr Interpretation denn 112

Vgl. §168; 199 // 202; 207. An letzterer Stelle ist σόφος pluralisch verwendet und wird auf die nach der Tugend genannte Sara ausgeweitet. Wie σφαγιάζειν (§169; 179; 185; 188; 196; 197 // §201) wird für das Opfern hier wie dort auch ἱερουργεῖν verwendet; vgl. §198 // §202. 113 Vgl. §168; 191 // 204; 206. Dieser Bestimmung der Tugend gemäß fürchtet sich Sara, weil sie meint, sich die Freude, die in Fülle allein Gott gehört, entgegen dem Willen Gottes angeeignet zu haben. 114 Der Auslegung auf der Ebene des sensus literalis nach beobachtet Abraham jedes Gebot mit viel Mühe und Beschwerden, was für den göttlichen Befehl, seinen Sohn zu opfern, erst recht gilt (§192). Hier spricht Philo von einem Kampf (§193). Ebenso ist der Schmerz (λυπή) derer, die eines ihrer Kinder opfern, für Abrahams Handeln transparent (§196). Ähnliche Erfahrungen kennt die menschliche Seele: Schmerz (ἐπίλυπος) und Furcht (ἐπιδεής o.ä.; §202) des menschlichen Geschlechts, Schmerz (λυπή; ὀδύνη) und Bürden (§207). 115 Die Freude zieht sich durch die gesamte allegorische Auslegung begrifflich wie motivisch. Entsprechend findet sich mit Blick auf die Kinder, die (nichtjüdischen) Eltern bleiben, wenn sie eines ihrer Kinder opfern, die Aussage, jene empfänden in der Freude über sie Trost in ihrem Schmerz (§196). Diese Freude dürfte umso mehr für Abraham gelten, als sein Sohn gerettet wurde (§176–177). 116 Im Kontext seiner Auslegung von Genesis 18 sind beide Aspekte aufs engste verbunden; vgl. §112.

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Zusammenfassung ist.117 Die weiteren Deutungen, die dem Wortsinn geltende und die allegorische, beziehen sich auf Philos Textwiedergabe, wobei die Erhebung des verborgenen Textsinns wiederum die Auslegung auf der Ebene des sensus literalis im Rahmen der argumentatio voraussetzt.

III. Philos biographisches Enkomium De Abrahamo und die Gattung „Rewritten Bible“ Das analytische Instrumentarium der Rhetorik hat es ermöglicht, Abr. 167– 208a im Kontext von De Abrahamo in formaler Hinsicht umfassend zu beschreiben. Dabei wurde die Schrift als ganzer der Gattung des biographisch akzentuierten Enkomiums zugewiesen. Im Folgenden nun ist die Frage nach dem Verhältnis des Enkomiums zur „Rewritten Bible“ zu klären. Neuere Untersuchungen aus dem Bereich der Philo-Forschung haben das Problem für den „βίος des Mose“ aufgeworfen. Die Gattung „Rewritten Bible“ wird dabei nicht als hinreichendes formgeschichtliches Erklärungsmodell gesehen, sondern mit anderen Gattungen und Formen in Beziehung gesetzt, mit dem „Allegorical Commentary“ einerseits und der Biographie andererseits.118 Was De Abrahamo anbelangt, so haben sich auch hier sowohl Bezüge zur Biographie als auch zum allegorischen Kommentar gezeigt. Narrative Passagen finden sich zwar auch hier, sind aber deutlich weniger umfangreich. Es handelt sich dabei, wie erwähnt, um Episoden-Erzählungen (διήγημα), nicht um das, was die antike Rhetorik als διήγησις im Sinne eines „umfassend-komplexen Erzählungsablauf(s)“ bezeichnet119 und wie sie zumindest in Mos. 1 vorliegen dürfte.120 Vor diesem Hintergrund ist zu klären, welche Relevanz die Gattung „Rewritten Bible“ für die formgeschichtliche Erklärung von De Abrahamo hat. Bezogen auf die für die „Rewritten Bible“ erarbeiteten Kriterien ergibt sich für De Abrahamo folgendes Bild: (1) „Rewritten Bible texts are narratives, which follow a sequential chronological order“. Wie gesehen, ist beides in De Abrahamo nicht durchgängig gegeben. Dies gilt entsprechend für (2) „They are ... free-standing compositions, which replicate the form of the biblical books on which they are based“. Anders verhält es sich mit (3) „These 117 Den zusammenfassenden Charakter der Textwiedergabe betont dagegen Gregory E. Sterling, „The Interpreter of Moses: Philo of Alexandria and the Biblical Text“, in: Matthias Henze (Hg.), A Companion to Biblical Interpretation in Early Judaism (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2012) 415–426; 423–424, und im Anschluss an ihn Fraade, Bible 231. 118 Erstere Verbindung stellen Sterling, „Interpreter“ 423–424, und Fraade, Bible, ins Zentrum, zweitere Finn Damgaard, „Philo’s Life of Moses as ‚Rewritten Bible‘“, in Zsengellér (Hg.), Rewritten Bible 233–248; 234–236. Zum Problem s. ferner Peder Borgen, „Philo of Alexandria: Reviewing and Rewriting Biblical Material“, SPhiloA 9 (1997) 37–53. 119 Lausberg, Handbuch 534 (§1112). 120 Zu den Unterschieden von Mos. 1 und Mos. 2 vgl. Damgaard, „Philo’s Life“ 233–238.

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texts are not intended to replace, or to supersede the Bible“. Kriterium (4) „Rewritten Bible texts cover a substantial portion of the Bible“, gilt in der Exposition als ganzer für weite Teile des Pentateuch. Im konkreten Fall von De Abrahamo spiegelt sich dagegen v.a. der zweite Teil von Kriterium (5) wider: „Rewritten Bible texts follow the Bible serially, in proper order, but they are highly selective in what they represent“. Ganz zweifelsohne trifft auch Kriterium (6) hier zu: „The intention of the texts is to produce an interpretative reading of Scripture“. Dies ist unverkennbar das zentrale Anliegen Philos. Es zeigt sich im Rahmen dessen, was oben als narratio bezeichnet wurde, mehr noch aber in den sie interpretierenden Passagen, die die Gattung „Rewritten Bible“ sprengen. Auch Kriterium (7) reflektiert sich in De Abrahamo: „The narrative form of the texts means ... that they can impose only a single interpretation on the original“, ebenso wie Kriterium (8) „The limitations of the narrative form also preclude making clear the exegetical reasoning“. Auch Kriterium (9) „Rewritten Bible texts make use of non-biblical tradition and draw on non-biblical sources“, ließ sich nachweisen.121

Trotz der markierten Übereinstimmungen mit dem Kriterienkatolog der „Rewritten Bible“ ist das Bild für De Abrahamo, wie es sich insbesondere aus der exemplarischen Analyse von §167–208a ergibt, weniger eindeutig, als dies bei einem isolierten Abgleich der philonischen Wiedergabe von Genesis 22 (§168–177) mit den dargelegten Kriterien der „Rewritten Bible“ erscheinen mag. Die Gemeinsamkeiten zeigen sich v.a. für die narratio. Die übrigen, weit umfänglicheren Partien folgen anderen Maßgaben. Auch die Form des Kommentars bietet nur eine Teilerklärung. Sie mag auf die allegorische Deutung zutreffen, erfasst die dem Wortsinn geltende Auslegung der Erzählung (§178– 198) aber nur unzureichend. Anders verhält es sich mit den von der griechischrömischen Rhetorik zur Verfügung gestellten Kategorien, mit denen sich der Zusammenhang umfassend beschreiben lässt. In diesem Rahmen lassen sich auch „Rewritten Bible“ und „Kommentar“ ohne Weiteres einordnen, erstere als narratio, letzterer als argumentatio. Beides lässt sich auch mit der in De Abrahamo verschiedentlich erwähnten hellenistischen Gattung des βίος verbinden, bei dem es sich hier genauer um ein biographisch akzentuiertes Enkomium handelt. Da die von der Rhetorik erarbeiteten Kategorien den Befund in De Abrahamo umfassend zu erklären vermögen, verdienen sie den Vorzug vor der Gattungsbestimmung „Rewritten Bible“ und dem im Zusammenhang mit ihr für Philo in Erwägung gezogenen Kommentar. Sofern das für die rabbinische Haggada kennzeichnende Merkmal die Schrifterklärung ist und sie, wie die „Rewritten Bible“ auch, das narrative Element des biblischen Erzählstoffes weiterbildet, gilt für ihr Verhältnis zu Philos De Abrahamo und seiner Auslegung von Genesis 22 im Grundsatz das zur 121 Die Zitate folgen Adelman, „Term“ 295–317; 296, auf der Basis der Zusammenstellung von Sidnie White Crawford, Rewriting Scripture in Second Temple Times (SDSSRL; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2008) 10, die sich wiederum auf die Studie von Philip S. Alexander, „Retelling the Old Testament“, in Donald A. Carson / Hugh G.M. Williamson (Hg.), It is Written – Scripture Citing Scripture. FS B. Lindars (Cambridge u.a.: Cambridge University Press, 1988) 99–121, bezieht.

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„Rewritten Bible“ Gesagte. Die Interpretation des biblischen Textes in Gestalt seiner erzählenden Wiedergabe in der narratio als narratio historica bildet die Brücke zur Haggada. Dabei verwendet Philo eine Reihe von Motiven, die seine narratio sowohl mit Schriften der Gattung „Rewritten Bible“ als auch mit der rabbinischen Haggada verbinden. Für das Phänomen „Haggada“ ist die Frage der Motivik aber nicht konstitutiv. Inhaltlich kongruiert Philos Deutung der Opferung Isaaks als äußerster Tat der Gottesliebe mit Deutungen des palästinischen Judentums, das Abraham im Prozess des „rewriting“ von Genesis 22 als ‫ אוהב‬bezeichnet.122 Ist diese Deutung für die narratio grundlegend, so wird diese in der Fortsetzung zum Ausgangspunkt der argumentatio, in der Philo die Tat Abrahams von vergleichbaren Praktiken der Völker abgrenzt und das Handeln Abrahams mit Hilfe stoischer Ideale interpretiert, nicht ohne zugleich deutliche Unterschiede zu markieren. Er wendet sich an ein mit den rhetorischen Konventionen, nichtjüdischen Bräuchen und stoischer Philosophie vertrautes Publikum hellenisierter Juden, dem er eine mit anderen frühjüdischen Auslegungen kompatible Deutung Abrahams vor Augen stellt, der nun freilich gegen alle Konventionen und Wertvorstellungen der Zeit mit der Opferung Isaaks einen Akt der Gottesliebe vollbringt, der in Widerspruch zur stoischen Natur tritt und die Grenzen der Vernunft sprengt. Dabei zeichnet Philo Abraham als Archetypen der Gottesliebe, der von seiner Leserschaft nachzuahmen ist, auch wenn das Ideal des Weisen für sie unerreichbar bleibt.

122 Deshalb dürfte auch davon auszugehen sein, dass Philo das Phänomen der „Rewritten Bible“ bekannt war.

Schriftauslegung und Haggadah in den Vitae Prophetarum Anna Maria Schwemer Die Vitae Prophetarum (Vit Proph) sind eine kleine hagiographische Sammlung von 23 Kurzbiographien über die alttestamentlichen Propheten.1 Der Titel und das Schlusswort kennzeichnen sie als eine eigene Schrift. Diese umfasst in ihrer ältesten überlieferten Form die Viten der vier Großen Propheten Jesaja, Jeremia, Ezechiel und Daniel, die der zwölf Kleinen Propheten und die Viten von sieben Propheten aus den Geschichtsbüchern (chronologisch geordnet von Nathan bis Sacharja ben Jojada). Diese Sammlung ist in griechischer Sprache variantenreich in verschiedenen Rezensionstypen erhalten und wurde in alle Sprachen der Alten Kirche übersetzt. Verschiedene Rezensionen wurden irrtümlicherweise christlichen Gelehrten, Epiphanius von Salamis und Dorotheus von Antiochien, zugeschrieben. Ab dem 5. Jahrhundert entnahmen die christlichen Gelehrten dieser Vitensammlung ‚biographische‘ Informationen über die alttestamentlichen Propheten, so schon Theodoret von Cyrus in seinem Kommentar zum Zwölfprophetenbuch, weil man sie nicht für legendär, sondern historisch zuverlässige Überlieferung hielt.2 1

Die maßgebliche Ausgabe des griechischen Textes ist immer noch Th. Schermann, Prophetarum vitae fabulosae. Indices apostolorum discipulorumque Domini Dorotheo, Epiphanio, Hippolyto allisque vindicata …, Leipzig: Teubner, 1907; dazu die synoptische Darstellung der griechischen Rezensionen in Anna Maria Schwemer, Studien zu den frühjüdischen Prophetenlegenden. Vitae Prophetarum II (TSAJ 50; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996) 3*–76* und im Beiheft dieses Kommentars. Die schon lange angekündigte Edition in CChr.SA ist noch nicht erschienen. Abkürzungen richten sich in der Regel nach: Abkürzungen Theologie und Religionswissenschaft nach RGG4, herausgegeben von der Redaktion der RGG4 (UTB 2868; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007); nicht übernommen ist die irrtümliche Bezeichnung 3Bar für die syrische Baruchapokalypse (2). 2 PG 81, 1362 D (Hosea); 1633 C (Joel); 1664 C (Amos); 1709 C (Obadja); 1724 D (Jona); 1741 D (Micha); 1789 D (Nahum); 1837 C (Zephania); 1861 D (Haggai); 1876 D (Sacharja); 1961 D (Maleachi); zur sogenannten Scholienrezension siehe Schermann, Prophetarum vitae, XXX–XXXIII.98–104; Anna Maria Schwemer, Studien zu den frühjüdischen Prophetenlegenden. Vitae Prophetarum I (TSAJ 49; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995) 18; vgl. Christoph Markschies, Rezension, ZAC 2 (1998), 328, der darauf hinweist, dass der „Abschreiber des Codex syrohexaplarensis Ambrosianus … seine Textform aus dem Exemplar des Eusebius und Pamphilus entnommen haben (will), das diese aus der Bibliothek des Origenes korrigiert haben“. Diese Auskunft hat der Übersetzer seiner griechischen Vorlage entnommen; sie

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I. Zum Streit um die Datierung und Herkunft der Vit Proph Bis heute ist umstritten, ob dieser Text auf eine jüdische Grundschrift zurückgeht, die vor 70 n. Chr. auf Griechisch in Jerusalem abgefasst und christlich ergänzt überliefert wurde, oder ob die Sammlung erst sehr viel später als genuin christliches Werk in byzantinischer Zeit entstanden ist. Nimmt man das Letztere an, verzichtet man in der Regel darauf, den historischen Kontext der Viten und den ihrer Zusammenstellung näher zu untersuchen, und belässt die Entstehung und den historischen Ort der Vit Proph völlig im Dunkeln. Für eine solche Spätdatierung entscheidet sich jetzt wieder Craig S. Keener. Er beruft sich auf die Monographie von David Satran und die persönliche Auskunft von Robert A. Kraft: their [Vit Proph] current form may be from the Byzantine period, possibly in the fifth or sixth century. This work shares aspects of the character of hagiography from this period. Reconstructing the earliest phases thus becomes difficult.3

Folgt man dieser Einschätzung, so müsste man in einem Band zur „Haggadah“ eigentlich auf die Vit Proph verzichten, denn sie würden dann nicht zu den Texten aus frühjüdischer Zeit gehören, die Vorformen der klassischen rabbinischen Haggadah enthalten.4 So rügte schon David Satran die unscharfe Verwendung von „haggadic“ und „Biblical midrash“ im Zusammenhang mit den Vit Proph und führte diese sprachliche Schlamperei auf eine unkritische Benutzung von Louis Ginzbergs „Legends of the Jews“ zurück. Es handle sich bei diesen „haggadischen“ Personallegenden immer um Gemeinplätze, die sowohl in der christlichen wie der jüdischen Literatur des 4. Jahrhunderts verbreitet gewesen seien, dabei aber auch ältere jüdische Traditionen aufnehmen und weiter ausgestalten könnten.5 Entsprechend berücksichtigt Richard Kalmin die Vitae Prophetarum nur ganz am Rande.6 Ich teile diese

bezieht sich auf den Bibeltext, nicht auf die Vitae Prophetarum. Ein Beweis dafür, dass sich die Vit Proph in der Bibliothek des Origenes befunden haben, ist das kaum; zu Pamphilus und Euseb und der Bibliothek des Origenes vgl. Hieronymus, De viris illustribus, 75 (Hg. Claudia Barthold, Mülheim/Mosel: Carthusianus Verlag, 20112, 228–229). 3 Craig S. Keener, Christobiography. Memory, Historiography, and the Relability of the Gospels (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2019) 99; vgl. David Satran, Biblical Prophets in Byzantine Palestine: Reassessing the Lives of the Prophets (SVTP 11; Leiden: Brill, 1995). Natürlich betont auch David Satran, dass die Vit Proph jüdische Traditionen verwenden. 4 Zur Definition von Haggada vgl. Joseph Gutmann, Art. „Aggadah or Haggadah“ (https://www.encyclopedia.com/ Updated Nov. 2, 2019): „The aggadah is first and foremost the creation of Palestinian Jewry, from the time of the Second Temple to the end of the talmudic period.“ 5 Satran, Biblical Prophets, 58–63. 6 Richard Kalmin, Migrating Tales. The Talmud’s narratives and their historical context (Oakland, CA: The University of California Press, 2014) 154: „There is controversy about the

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Skepsis nicht, denn ich halte eine solche Spätdatierung der Vit Proph für längst hinreichend widerlegt.7 Gerade der Vergleich der Vit Proph mit neutestamentlichen Texten zeigt, dass die in den Vit Proph erhaltenen Traditionen älter sein müssen.8 So führt die Vermutung David Satrans, dass die spätere christliche Verehrung der Prophetengräber aus dem Wehewort Jesu: Wehe euch, ihr baut den Propheten Grabmäler, eure Väter haben sie getötet! Also bezeugt ihr die Taten eurer Väter und stimmt ihnen zu, denn jene haben sie getötet, ihr aber baut [Grabmäler]. (Lk 11,47–48; Mt 23,29–31)

entstanden sei, in die völlig verkehrte Richtung.9 Das Wehewort richtet sich an die pharisäischen Gelehrten, die die Pflege der Prophetengräber förderten in einer Epoche, in der Herodes I. – wie Josephus berichtet – das königliche Davidgrab in Jerusalem mit einem prächtigen Memorialbau versah.10 Auch die Patriarchengräber in Hebron (heute Haram el-Khalil) und Mamre (heute Haram Ramat el-Khalil) wurden wahrscheinlich von Herodes I. in monumentalem Stil neu errichtet und sind so heute noch erhalten. Architektonisch entsprechen beide dem Jerusalemer Tempelneubau des Königs, zudem kamen die Bauleute aus derselben Schule.11 Bis heute zeugen die Grabbauten der Priester- und Laienaristokratie im Kidrontal in Jerusalem, errichtet vom 2. Jahrhundert v. Chr. bis zum 1. Jahrhundert n. Chr., von der Pracht hellenistischer Grabarchitektur in Jerusalem.12 Das Grab der Priesterfamilie Ḥesir ist durch eine in der 2. Hälfte des 1. Jahrhunderts angebrachte Inschrift gut dokumentiert. Vermutlich handelt es sich um das in der Kupferrolle erwähnte Zadoqgrab beziehungsweise das in der Jesaja-Vita erwähnte „Grab der Priester“.

dating of Lives of the Prophets, but I am convinced by David Satran’s claim that the text was composed in a late antique context, in the fourth or fifth century.“ 7 So auch Benjamin Gleede, Parabiblica Latina. Studien zu den griechisch-lateinischen Übersetzungen parabiblischer Literatur unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der apostolischen Väter (SVG 137; Leiden: Brill, 2016) 43–44, Anm. 98 mit Verweis auf Schwemer, Studien I, 65–71. 8 Dazu ausführlich Anna Maria Schwemer, „Vitae Prophetarum und Neues Testament“, in Hermann Lichtenberger/Ulrike Mittmann-Richert (Hg.), Biblical Figures in Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature (DCLY 2008; Berlin/New York: de Gruyter, 2009) 199–230. 9 Satran, Biblical Prophets, 23–24; dagegen Schwemer, „Vitae Prophetarum und Neues Testament“, 203–224, 209–214. 10 Josephus, Ant. 16,179–183. Josephus verbindet dies mit einer Geschichte über den Grabfrevel des Herodes, der die königliche Grablege ausrauben wollte, was ihm nicht gelang, und der deshalb ein Sühnmal am Grabeingang errichtet habe. 11 Dazu Ehud Netzer, The Architecture of Herod, the Great Builder (TSAJ 117; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006) 228–232. 12 Vgl. Max Küchler, Jerusalem. Ein Handbuch und Studienreiseführer zur Heiligen Stadt. Mit Beiträgen von Klaus Bieberstein u.a. (Orte und Landschaften der Bibel, Band IV,2; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2007) 698–730; 716–718 zum Grab der Bene Ḥesir.

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Die gesetzeskundigen Lehrer – Lukas nennt sie νομικοί, Matthäus schreibt polemisch γραμματεῖς καὶ Φαρισαῖοι ὑποκριταί –, denen der Weheruf Jesu gilt, betrachteten sich gewissermaßen als die Erben der Propheten. Hier stellt David Satran, um die späte christliche Abfassung der Vit Proph zu beweisen, die historischen Zusammenhänge völlig auf den Kopf.13 Bei meiner Beschäftigung mit den Vit Proph kam ich immer wieder zum Ergebnis, dass sich die Annahme einer jüdischen Grundschrift, die in späterer Zeit unterschiedliche christliche Ergänzungen und Streichungen erfahren hat, am besten bewährt.14 Nur so lässt sich das Interesse an den endzeitlich-apokalyptischen „Zeichen“ (τέρατα) und den Voraussagen der Propheten über das Weltende und damit auch die Nähe der Vit Proph zu den zelotischen Propheten oder den „Zeichenpropheten“ des 1. Jahrhunderts, sowie zu Theudas und dem „Ägypter“, die Josephus beschreibt und Lukas in der Apostelgeschichte erwähnt, erklären.15 Wir haben dadurch eindeutige zeitgenössische Parallelen für das Prophetenbild der Vit Proph. Die Vit Proph selbst jedoch erwarten – noch – nicht das Auftreten von neuen Propheten. Die eigenartige Konzentration fast aller eschatologischen Erwartungen auf den Sinai und die Wüste, die Kritik an den Priestern und an den Davididen, der Verlust der Dimension der Transzendenz im Tempelkult16 in Jerusalem sprechen für die Entstehung der Sammlung in der schwierigen politischen Lage unter römischer Herrschaft im 1. Jahrhundert n. Chr., die schließlich zum Ersten Jüdischen Krieg führte.17

13 Deshalb ist ihm Pieter Willem van der Horst auch nicht gefolgt, siehe ders., „Die Prophetengräber im antiken Judentum“. Franz-Delitzsch-Vorlesung 2000, Münster 2001, 26 (= Jacobus Cornelis de Vos/Folker Siegert, Hg., Interesse am Judentum. Franz-DelitzschVorlesungen 1989–2008 [Münsteraner Judaistische Studien 23; Berlin/Münster: Lit, 2008] 55–71). Ausführlicher dazu Schwemer, „Vitae Prophetarum und Neues Testament“, 203–204. 14 Anna Maria Schwemer, „Die Verwendung der Septuaginta in den Vitae Prophetarum“, in: Martin Hengel/dies. (Hg.), Die Septuaginta zwischen Judentum und Christentum (WUNT 72; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1994) 62–91; dies., Studien, I–II; dies., Vitae Prophetarum (JSHRZ I/7; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus Gerd Mohn, 1997) 539–658; dies., „Vitae Prophetarum und Neues Testament“, 199–230; zuletzt dies., „The Lives of the Prophets and the Book of the Twelve“, in Lena Tiemeyer und Jakob Wöhrle (Hg.), The Book of the Twelve: Composition, Reception, and Interpretation for the Series „Formation and Interpretation of Old Testament Literature (FIOTL)”, 415–440 (erscheint Leiden: Brill 2020). 15 Der „Ägypter“: Josephus, B. J. 2,221–263; Ant. 20,169–172; Apg 21,38; Theudas: Josephus, Ant. 20,97–99; Apg 5,36. Vgl. Schwemer, Studien I, 70.86; Martin Hengel/Anna Maria Schwemer, Jesus und das Judentum. Geschichte des frühen Christentums, Band I (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007) 98–101 u. ö. Zu den „Zeichenpropheten“ vgl. auch Marco Frenschkowski, Art. „Prophet,“ RAC 28 (2018) 285–286. 16 Dazu unten zur Sacharja ben Jojada-Vita. 17 Siehe Ulrike Mittmann-Richert, Einführung zu den historischen und legendarischen Schriften (JSHRZ VI/1,1; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus Gerd Mohn, 2000) 159–160, 164–168.

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Zwar setzen die frühesten Handschriften erst im 6./7. Jahrhundert ein, so die älteste erhaltene griechische Textform, die im Propheten-Codex Marchalianus (Vat. gr. 2125) als Einleitung an den Anfang gestellt ist. Ein weiterer Zeuge ist die syrische Übersetzung im Codex syrohexaplarensis Ambrosianus, der auf das Jahr 617 datiert ist.18 Doch eine lateinische Übersetzung, die auf der griechischen Textform, die auch der Marchalianus bietet, basiert, ist bereits im 4. Jahrhundert oder früher anzusetzen.19 Zudem ist es der Normalfall, dass die handschriftliche Überlieferung außerkanonischer, apokrypher Texte Jahrhunderte nach ihrer Entstehung einsetzt. Erst die Qumran-Funde haben diese Situation völlig verändert und bieten zum Beispiel für das Tobitbuch Reste von aramäischen und hebräischen Handschriften aus dem 1. Jh. v. Chr. (beziehungsweise um die Zeitenwende).20 Sie belegen auch zuvor nicht bekannte Prophetenapokrypha für Daniel, Jeremia und Ezechiel, die zum Teil Verwandtschaft mit den Vit Proph zeigen.21 Aber natürlich fanden sich in den Höhlen von Qumran nicht unsere auf Griechisch verfassten und für eine ganz andere Leserschaft interessanten Vitae Prophetarum. Denn diese sind für ein Publikum geschrieben und zusammengestellt, das biographische Informationen über die alttestamentlichen Propheten im Stil der griechischhellenistischen biographischen Schriftstellerkataloge verlangte.22 Zugleich wollten sie vor allem religiöse Orientierung bieten in den schwierigen politischen Verhältnissen in Palästina in der ersten Hälfte des 1. Jahrhunderts n. Chr.23 Jede dieser Kurzbiographien gibt den Namen des Propheten an, woher er stammte, wo und wie er starb und wo er begraben liegt. So lautet auch der 18 Schwemer, Studien I, 20. Dazu Sebastian Brock, „The Lives of the Prophets in Syriac: Some Soundings“, in: Charlotte Hempel/Judith M. Lieu (Hg.), Biblical Traditions in Transmission. Essays in Honour of Michael A. Knibb (SJSJ 111; Leiden: Brill, 2006) 21–37; Brock rechnet mit der Übersetzung ins Syrische im 6. Jahrhundert. Zu den armenischen, äthiopischen, georgischen, arabischen, slavischen etc. Versionen siehe Schwemer, Studien I, 20–22. 19 Siehe Gleede, Parabiblica Latina, 43–55; 47: Diese Übersetzung kennt nur die allerfrühesten christlichen Ergänzungen in der Jeremia-Vita und zeigt noch keinen Vulgata-Einfluss; das heißt, dass der „Übersetzer hier tatsächlich den primitivsten uns greifbaren Text [der Vitae Prophetarum] vor sich haben wird“. 20 Siehe Beate Ego, Buch Tobit (JSHRZ II/6; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1999) 877–878. 21 Vgl. 4QOrNab zu Daniel; zu Jeremia und Ezechiel siehe Devorah Dimant, Qumran Cave 4. XXI: Parabiblical Texts, Part 4: Pseudo-Prophetic Texts, partially based on earlier transcriptions by J. Strugnell (DJD XXX; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2001); dazu Lutz Doering, „Jeremia in Babylonien und Ägypten. Mündliche und schriftliche Toraparänese für Exil und Diaspora nach 4QApokryphon of Jeremiah C“, in: Wolfgang Kraus/Karl-Wilhelm Niebuhr (Hg.), Frühjudentum und Neues Testament im Horizont Biblischer Theologie (WUNT 162; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003) 50–79. 22 Siehe dazu unten Abschnitt II. 23 Das hat vor allem Mittmann-Richert, Einführung, 164–167 herausgestellt.

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Titel. Dieses Grundgerüst wird mit legendärem Material über das Wirken der Propheten ergänzt, das – wenn es geht – aus Nachrichten in den Königs- und Chronikbüchern und deren Exegese stammt, und zwar mit der exegetischen Arbeitsweise, mit der der Chronist schon seine biographischen Angaben über die Propheten gewonnen hat.24 Aber auch die schwerer verständlichen Schriften der jeweiligen Propheten werden herangezogen. Besonders wichtig sind ungewöhnliche Todesarten und endzeitliche Weissagungen der Propheten. Aufschlussreich für Entstehungs- und Abfassungszeit sind zudem die topographischen Angaben zum Geburts- und Grabesort des jeweiligen Propheten.25 Die Orte der Gräber liegen nach der ältesten Version alle – außer den Gräbern von Jeremia, Ezechiel und Daniel, die in der Diaspora Ägyptens und Babyloniens begraben sind – im Bereich des hasmonäischen Königreichs. Vorausgesetzt wird dabei eine Situation vor dem Anschluss Galiläas und der judäischen Wiederbesiedlung Galiläas unter Alexander Jannai. Eine auffallende Rolle spielen Orte in Idumäa und die Zugehörigkeit von drei Propheten zum Stamm Simeon. Der Grund dafür ist darin zu sehen, dass die Lage der Gräber die Eroberung und Unterwerfung Idumäas unter Johannes Hyrkan voraussetzt und rechtfertigt. Galiläa dagegen, wo sich Prophetengräber erst nach 135 n. Chr. nachweisen lassen und seit byzantinischer Zeit bevorzugt liegen, spielt erst in den späteren Rezensionen und zum Teil in der syrischen Übersetzung eine Rolle. Am klarsten lässt sich das in der Vita des populären Propheten Jona (ben Amittai) verfolgen. Seine Herkunft aus Gat-Hefer in Galiläa (2Kön 14,25) wird in den Vit Proph ersetzt durch das südliche Kariathmous in der Nähe von Azotos/Aschdod.26 Erst spätere syrische Hand24 Etwa für die Identifikation von Micha (ben Jimla) mit dem Propheten gleichen Namens im Zwölfprophetenbuch: 2 Chr 18,27b (übernommen in 1Kön 22,28b, nur MT): Micha ben Jimla „zitiert“ Mich 1,2: „Höret, alle Völker!“ Die Vit Proph übernehmen diese Lösung ebenfalls und ordnen den Propheten zwischen Hosea und Amos ein, führen ihn aber nicht unter den Propheten aus den Geschichtsbüchern auf. Siehe dazu jetzt Schwemer, Lives of the Prophets, 419–21 (im Druck). 25 Satran, Biblical Prophets, 44–46 hebt die feinsinnige Exegese der Rabbinen bei der Erschließung von Ortsnamen gegenüber der „curious concatenation of disparate biblical passages“ (44) in den Vit Proph hervor. Die eigenartige Zusammenstellung der Bibelstellen, die Satran bemängelt, ist jedoch ein Ergebnis seiner eigenen Exegese. Die Angabe von Hoseas Heimatort in den Vit Proph ist nicht so unsinnig. Danach kommt er aus dem Belemoth/Jibleam (heute Hirbat Bal‘ama) des Stammes Issachar und war wie die Vit Proph indirekt voraussetzen priesterlicher Herkunft, denn Jibleam war nach 1Chr 6,55 Levitenstadt. Es liegt auf samaritanischem Gebiet und spielt auch im Judithbuch (ca. 100 v.Chr.) eine hervorgehobene Rolle. Wenn die Rabbinen Hosea aus dem Stamm Ruben kommen lassen, weil er der erste war, der Israel zur Buße rief, dann setzen sie die ältere Tradition über den Namen des Geburtsorts des Propheten voraus, denn nach Num 32,38 (LXX) und Jos 13,17 (LXX) gab es auch ein Beelmon/Belamon im Stammesgebiet von Ruben; vgl. Euseb, Onomastikon (44,21–22 Klostermann); weiter Schwemer, Vitae, 610. 26 Er wird damit zum Judäer; vgl. Joh 7,52: kein Prophet kommt aus Galiläa.

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schriften nennen dann wieder Gat-Hefer. Begraben liegt er im Grab des „Kenezeos“, d.h. des Kenaz, im Land Saraar/Seïr, der „Richter eines Stammes gewesen war in den Tagen der Anarchie“27. Es handelt sich um das idumäische Patriarchengrab, das nach der Zwangsangliederung Idumäas durch die Hasmonäer jüdisch wurde. Der Edomiter/Idumäer Kenaz (Gen 36,11.15.42) wurde mit dem Judäer Kenaz (Jos 15,17–19; Ri 1,13; 3,9.11), dem Vater Otniëls, dem „Richter eines Stammes“ identifiziert.28 Idumäa galt als Stammesland von Simeon.29 Die Angaben über die Propheten mit dieser Herkunft – Nahum, Habakuk und Zephania – und über ihre dort liegenden Gräber spiegeln den Anspruch auf dieses Land in Übereinkunft mit der in 1Makk 15,33–34. dem Dynastiegründer der Hasmonäer, Simon, in den Mund gelegten Rechtfertigung der Eroberungspolitik: Wir haben uns weder fremdes Land angeeignet noch uns fremden Besitzes bemächtigt, sondern das Erbe unserer Väter [zurückerobert], das von unseren Feinden zu einer gewissen Zeit willkürlich in Besitz genommen worden war. Wir aber halten … an dem Erbe unserer Väter fest.30

Gerade die Elemente in den Vit Proph, die, wenn man sie spät datiert, reichlich unsinnig erscheinen, lassen sich mit der Frühdatierung sinnvoll erklären.31 Die frühesten christlichen Interpolationen, die sich auffälligerweise gehäuft in der Jeremia-Vita finden, sprechen für einen judenchristlichen Re27

Vit Proph 10,1.7; zur Übersetzung siehe Schwemer, Vitae, 617.620. Mit den „Tagen der Anarchie“ wird in den Vit Proph die Richterzeit bezeichnet. 28 Dieselbe Identifizierung findet sich bei Josephus, Ant. 5,182–184 und in Lib Ant 25,2; 27,16. 29 Vgl. Schwemer, Vitae, 546; ausführlicher dies., Lives of the Prophets, 426, 428, 431– 432 (im Druck). Es handelt sich um kleine Orte in der Nähe von Bet Guvrin/Eleutheropolis; in der Nahum-Vita finden wir die Ortsangabe „Isbägabarin“ entstanden aus εἰς Βήγαβαρις. Beth Guvrin wurde um 200 n.Chr. von Kaiser Septimius Severus das ius italicum und der Name Eleutheropolis verliehen, siehe Othmar Keel/Max Küchler, Orte und Landschaften der Bibel. Ein Handbuch und Studienreiseführer zum Heiligen Land. Band 2: Der Süden (Zürich u.a./Göttingen: Benzinger/Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1982) 856–857; Schwemer, Studien II, 84–86. 30 Siehe dazu ausführlicher Martin Hengel/Anna Maria Schwemer, Die Urgemeinde und das Judenchristentum. Geschichte des frühen Christentums. Band II (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2019) 322, 324. 31 Was Maren R. Niehoff für den sinnvollen Umgang mit Strack-Billerbeck vorschlägt, nämlich das Neue Testament als ein Quellenbuch anzusehen für Traditionen, die in der rabbinischen Literatur erscheinen, kann man entsprechend auf die Vit Proph anwenden. Vgl. Maren R. Niehoff, „The implied audience of the letter of James“, in: Gary A. Anderson/Ruth A. Clements/ David Satran (Hg.), New Approaches to the Study of Biblical Interpretation in Judaism of the Second Temple Period and in Early Christianity. Proceedings of the Eleventh International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, Jointly Sponsored by the Hebrew University Center for the Study of Christianity, 9–11 January, 2007 (StTDJ 106; Leiden u.a.: Brill, 2013) 57–77 (63).

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daktor. Torleif Elgvin datiert ihn m. E. zu Recht in die erste Hälfte des 2. Jahrhunderts.32 Man kann diese frühen christlichen Ergänzungen damit wahrscheinlich auch lokalisieren, denn Jeremia war nach den Vit Proph sozusagen der ‚Schutzpatron‘ der jüdischen Diaspora in Alexandria und in Ägypten. Zudem kommt der Prophetencodex Marchalianus, in dem wir die älteste Form der Vit Proph finden, aus Ägypten.

II. Die literarische Form Die Vit Proph richten sich literarisch nach dem Vorbild der seit dem 3. Jahrhundert v. Chr. in der griechisch-römischen Umwelt gebräuchlichen literarischen Gattung des Bios und des Genos, der Viten und Vitensammlungen über bedeutende Staatsmänner, Dichter oder Philosophen. Hier gab es die großen Werke eines Hermipp von Smryna, Antigonos aus Karystos, Satyros oder Aristoxenos von Tarent. Aus solchen älteren biographischen Schriften hat Diogenes Laertius den Stoff für seine Viten der Philosophen geschöpft. Aus römischer Zeit hat sich eine Fülle an Texten erhalten, genannt seien nur Philodem, Cornelius Nepos, Plutarchs Kaiserviten und Parallelbiographien, Suetons Kaiserviten und Philostrats Leben des Apollonius von Tyana.33 Auf jüdischer Seite entsprechen Philons große Werke über Mose, Josef und Abraham diesen griechisch-römischen Biographien.34 Unter den Evangelien steht das des Lukas der klassischen Form der antiken Biographie am nächsten, aber auch die anderen Evangelien haben biographischen Charakter im antiken Sinn.35 Es gab auch wesentlich einfachere Vitensammlungen in der griechi-

32 Torleif Elgvin, „Jewish Christian Editing of the Old Testament Pseudepigrapha“, in: Oskar Skarsaune/Reidar Hvalvik (Hg.), Jewish Believers in Jesus. The Early Centuries (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2007) 278–304 (281–285, 304). Ähnlich Gleede, Parabiblica Latina, 47: diese „christliche[n] Hinzufügungen [können] durchaus … im zweiten Jahrhundert vorgenommen worden sein“. 33 Vgl. dazu Schwemer, Studien 1, 43–50. 34 Zu Philon siehe Maren R. Niehoff, Philon von Alexandria. Eine intellektuelle Biographie, übersetzt von Claus-Jürgen Thornton und Eva Tyrell (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2019) 153: „Durch die Viten der biblischen Erzväter bezieht er selbst als Jude in aktuellen griechisch-römischen Diskursen Stellung und reiht das Judentum unter die führenden Kulturen ein. … Während der biographische Zugang bei einer bunten Vielzahl griechischer Autoren im Römischen Reich populär wurde, mieden die Rabbinen … das Genre und hielten sich so von diesem Diskurs fern“. Hieronymus führt mit seinem Werk De viris illustribus auf christlicher Seite diese Schriftgattung nach dem Vorbild Suetons fort; vgl. dazu Claudia Barthold, in Hieronymus. De viris illustribus 32–33. 35 Vgl. Niehoff, Philon von Alexandria 152–153; zu den Evangelien und der Gattung Biographie zuletzt ausführlich Keener, Christobiography; weiter Martin Hengel, Die vier Evangelien und das eine Evangelium von Jesus Christus. Studien zu ihrer Sammlung und Entste-

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schen Umwelt des Judentums. Im Papyrus Oxyrhynchus 180036 hat sich ein solches Beispiel in der schlichten Form erhalten, wie sie auch die Vit Proph darstellen. Bei diesem Papyrus handelt es sich um ein Kompendium von „Bildungswissen“ über philosophische und literarische Gestalten mit besonderem Interesse an ungewöhnlichen Todesarten.37 Im Unterschied zu den paganen griechischen Vitensammlungen fehlen in den Vit Proph völlig der Klatsch und die Skandalgeschichten. Sie enthalten stattdessen fromme, erbauliche „Haggadah“. Eine auffällige Besonderheit der Vit Proph, dass es ausführlichere Viten neben ganz knappen gibt, findet sich auch in den griechischen Vitensammlungen, denn hier stehen ganz kurze Texte, das sogenannte Genos, neben den längeren Bioi. Diese Texte bilden das Vorbild und den historischen Kontext der Vit Proph, in dem sie verfasst wurden, nicht die späteren Mönchsviten. David Satran betont ganz zu Recht, dass Ben Sirachs „Lob der Väter“ den Vit Proph unter den frühjüdischen Texten am nächsten kommt,38 aber er setzt die Vit Proph weit ab von der antiken biographischen Literatur als „a highly idiosyncratic composition“; die interessante Parallele in POxy. 1800 beachtet er nicht.39 So kommt er zu dem Schluss: Far closer to the nature of the Lives – and certainly coherent with the work’s established context of transmission (as well as redaction) – are the early fifth century collections of the lives of the monks of Egypt and of Syria.40

III. Der Erzählstoff der Vit Proph als frühjüdische haggadische Überlieferungen Die Rabbinen haben das „Genre“ der biographischen Literatur genauso wie das der Geschichtsschreibung nicht fortgeführt.41 Doch in den haggadischen hung (WUNT 224; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008) 398 Index s.v. „Biographien, antike“; 405 Index s.v. „Jesusbiographie, kerygmatische“. 36 Von den Herausgebern wird der Papyrus auf „late second or early third century“ n.Chr. datiert, was nicht heißt, dass der Text erst dann entstanden ist. 37 Herwig Görgemanns, Art. „Biographie. I. Griechisch“, DNP 2, 1997, 684; ausführlicher Schwemer, Studien I, 43–50; kürzer in dies., „Vitae Prophetarum und Neues Testament“, 201–202. Nach POxy 1800 hat sich Sappho aus Liebeskummer zu Tode gestürzt; Euripides wurde wegen Asebie von Hunden gefressen; den Fabeldichter Aesop haben die Delphier einen Abhang hinabgestürzt, weil er sie des Opferfrevels überführt hatte. 38 Man kann auch die Psalmüberschriften und Ps 151 LXX oder das Kolophon zu Hiob in 42,17a–e LXX anführen. Hier wird „Job“ mit „Jobab“ (Gen 36,33–34) gleichgesetzt. 39 Satran, Biblical Prophets 98. 40 A.a.O., 99. Er erwähnt in diesem Zusammenhang auch Theodoret von Cyros und seine Mönchsviten, übersieht aber, dass Theodoret die Vit Proph in seinem Kommentar zum Zwölfprophetenbuch als Quelle verwendet.

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Texten der Talmudim und Midraschim begegnen historisch-legendäre Erzählungen und biographische Erwähnungen neben Heiligen- und Wundergeschichten, Fabeln und Gleichnissen. Diese historischen und biographischen Texte dienen nicht in erster Linie der historischen Information, sondern der Erbauung: „Nicht das historische, sondern das erbauliche Interesse steht im Vordergrund.“42 Ein interessantes Phänomen bildet dabei auch die polemische Verschlüsselung, mit der rabbinische Legenden auf historische Vorgänge anspielen.43 Vor allem die Hinweise auf Jesus von Nazareth enthalten bissigste Polemik.44 Entsprechend werden die älteren Traditionen umgeformt, aber auch ältere Anekdoten und Auslegungstraditionen beibehalten und fortgeführt. Es bietet sich an, den haggadischen Stoff der Vit Proph in Auswahl in einem kurzen Durchgang knapp darzustellen. Die ganze Fülle der Schriftauslegungen und Erzählungen auszubreiten, die die Vit Proph in ihrer Breviloquenz enthalten, ist hier nicht möglich. Aber ich möchte zeigen, wie die Gelehrten, auf die diese Vitensammlung zurückgeht, ihre biographischen Nachrichten durch die Auslegung der alttestamentlichen und frühjüdischen Schriften gewonnen haben. III.1 Die Jesaja-Vita Lapidar beginnt diese Vita mit: Jesaja aus Jerusalem stirbt von Manasse in zwei Teile gesägt, und er wurde beigesetzt unter der Eiche Rogel in der Nähe des Übergangs über die Wasser(läufe), die Hiskia zerstörte, indem er sie zuschüttete.45

Jesaja wirkte nach der Überschrift seines biblischen Buches zur Zeit von „Usija, Jotham, Ahas und Hiskia“46, er muss also – so interpretierte man biographisch folgerichtig – unter Hiskias Sohn und Nachfolger Manasse gestor-

41

Vgl. Niehoff, Philon von Alexandria 153. Günter Stemberger, Der Talmud. Einführung, Texte, Erläuterungen (München: C. H. Beck, 1994) 172. Zur Herleitung des Begriffs vgl. Wilhelm Bacher, „The Origin of the Word Haggada (Agada)“, JQR 4 (1892) 406–429. 43 Dazu Martin Hengel, Rabbinische Legende und frühpharisäische Geschichte. Schimeon b. Schetach und die achtzig Hexen von Askalon (Abhandlungen der Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften. Philosophisch-historische Klasse. Jahrgang 1984, 2. Abhandlung; Heidelberg: Carl Winter Universitätsverlag, 1984). 44 Vgl. Peter Schäfer, Jesus im Talmud. Übersetzt aus dem Englischen von Barbara Schäfer (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007); ders., Jüdische Polemik gegen Jesus und das Christentum. Die Entstehung eines jüdischen Gegenevangeliums (Carl Friedrich von Siemens Stiftung – Themen 103; München: Carl Friedrich von Siemens Stiftung, 2017). 45 Vit Proph 1,1; dazu Schwemer, Studien I, 101–128; dies., „Zersägung“, 45–46 in Anm. 51. 46 Jes 1,1; 6,1 datiert die Berufung ins Todesjahr Usijas. 42

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ben sein. Während die Königsbücher Hiskias große Taten rühmen und die Hiskia-Jesaja-Erzählungen das gute Verhältnis zwischen König und Prophet schildern,47 werden von Hiskias Sohn in den Königsbüchern nur Untaten berichtet. Er betrieb Götzendienst und Magie und verführte sein Volk zu diesen Freveln. Gott schickte Propheten, um ihm seine Bestrafung anzukündigen, aber Manasse hörte nicht auf sie. In seiner Grausamkeit vergoss er „sehr viel unschuldiges Blut, so dass Jerusalem von Tor zu Tor (pe la-pe, eigentlich von ‚Mund zu Mund‘) voll davon war.“48 Josephus schreibt dazu, dass Manasse täglich Propheten schlachtete.49 In den Vit Proph bezieht sich Manasses Blutorgie allein auf den Propheten Jesaja.50 Die für moderne Augen ungewöhnliche Todesart, das „Sägen“, begegnet seit hellenistischer Zeit als Folter und Todesstrafe auch im Judentum öfter.51 Dieses „Sägen“ ist in der Septuaginta gut belegt.52 Noch dem grausamen Kaiser Caligula wurde nachgesagt, dass er diese Todesstrafe in Rom eingeführt habe.53 In Hebr 11,37 fällt der Name Jesaja nicht, es reicht zur Identifikation, dass er zersägt (ἐπρίσθησαν)54 wurde, so wie für Jeremia und Sacharja ben Jojada, dass sie gesteinigt wurden, und derjenige, der mit dem Schwert getötet wurde, ist Ezechiel. Sie gehören durch ihren Glauben zur alttestamentlichen „Wolke der Zeugen“ (Hebr 12,1) für Christus.55 47

2 Kön 18,13 – 20,21; Jes 36–39. 2 Kön 21,16. 49 Josephus, Ant. 10, 38. 50 So auch in der rabbinischen Literatur: y. Sanh. 10,2 28c zitiert dann 2 Kön 21,16 explizit, ebenso b. Sanh. 103b; b. Yebam. 49b; siehe dazu Schwemer, Studien I, 104–107; Kalmin, Migrating Tales 33–44. In der christlichen Literatur erscheint wohl in Abhängigkeit von Hebr 11,37 und der „deuteronomistischen Doktrin vom gewaltsamen Geschick der Propheten“ nicht nur Manasse als Täter, sondern auch das jüdische Volk oder nur das Passiv wie in Hebr 11,37; siehe die Liste der Stellen in Schwemer, Studien I, 105–106. 51 Vgl. Anna Maria Schwemer, „Die Zersägung des Propheten Jesaja“, in: Sebastian Fuhrmann/Regina Grundmann (Hg.), Martyriumsvorstellungen in Antike und Mittelalter. Leben oder sterben für Gott? (AJEC 89; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2012) 45–67; Kalmin, Migrating Tales 29–52. 52 Am 1,3 LXX: „weil sie die Schwangeren von Gilead mit eisernen Sägen zersägt haben“; ähnlich 2 Sam 12,31 LXX und 1Chr 20,3 LXX über Davids Bestrafung der Ammoniter gegen den masoretischen Text; Sus 59. Vgl. auch Gen. Rab. 65,22; dazu Friedrich Avemarie, in: Jan Willem van Henten/ders., Martyrdom and Noble Death. Selected Texts from Graeco-Roman, Jewish and Christian Antiquity (London/New York: Routledge, 2002) 142–143; vgl. auch Kalmin, Migrating Tales 49–50, der auf die Beschreibung dieser Todesstrafe im Martyrium des Sharbil aus Edessa hinweist (38–39). Sharbil als Christ leidet durch eine hölzerne Säge, aber eingespannt in einen Schraubstock wird er mit einer eisernen Säge zersägt und am Ende enthauptet. 53 Sueton, Caligula 27,3: Multos honesti ordinis … medios serra dissecuit. 54 Der Plural ist für Jesaja eine Hyperbel. Zutreffend ist er allein bei den gesteinigten Propheten, die zuerst erwähnt werden. Der Hebräerbrief entstand spätestens um 90 n.Chr. 55 Dazu ausführlicher Schwemer, „Zersägung“, 51. 48

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Die Jesaja-Vita betont ausdrücklich, dass der Prophet in zwei Teile gesägt wurde. Eine solche Zweiteilung hatte in der Antike nicht nur die Bedeutung äußerster Grausamkeit, sondern auch die der rituellen Strafe für den Gottesfeind. Sie begegnet im Mythos, als vollzogener Ritus und in den Legenden oft.56 Diese Bedeutung erscheint für Jesaja erstmals zu Beginn des 2. Jahrhunderts n. Chr. in der christlichen Ascensio Jesaiae. Manasse wird hier dämonisiert, dazu behaupten die Gegner Jesajas, ein samaritanischer Lügenprophet und seine Genossen, Jesaja habe gesagt, er sehe mehr als der Prophet Mose, zudem habe er Jerusalem Sodom genannt.57 Außerdem wird in der Ascensio Jesaiae das Marterinstrument erstmals als eine „hölzerne Säge“ bezeichnet (Asc Jes 5,1.11; vgl. 8,11). Es handelt sich nicht um eine Baumsäge, wie man früher gerne angenommen hat,58 sondern um eine typisch christliche Angleichung an das Kreuzesholz Jesu.59 Der Philosoph und Märtyrer Justin ist dann sogar überzeugt, dass Juden Jesajas Tod durch die „hölzerne Säge“ aus dem Septuaginta-Text aus antichristlichen Gründen entfernt hätten.60 In den rabbinischen Parallelen zum Tod Jesajas spielt die „hölzerne“ Säge keine Rolle.61 Dass die hölzerne Säge in den Vit Proph erst in späteren stärker christlich redigierten Übersetzungen erscheint und sich eine breite Textüberlieferung ohne dieses Motiv erhalten hat, spricht wieder für das Alter

56

Wolfgang Speyer, „Eine rituelle Hinrichtung des Gottesfeindes: Die Zweiteilung“, in: ders., Frühes Christentum im antiken Strahlungsfeld: Ausgewählte Aufsätze (WUNT 50; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1989) 305–321; weiter Schwemer, „Zersägung“, 51–53 mit Beispielen aus dem Alten und Neuen Testament, dem Alten Orient und späterer Zeit. 57 Asc Jes 3,3–10; vgl. dazu Kalmin, Migrating Tales 30–33. 58 So noch Schwemer, Vitae, 562 Anm. 1c. 59 So wurde auch der Herrenbruder Jakobus nach der Jakobus-Legende des Hegesipp schließlich mit einem Walker-Holz (ξύλον) getötet (überliefert bei Euseb, Hist. Eccl. 2,23,18). Der Philosoph Kelsos (um 150 n.Chr.) spottet über die Christen, die überall das Kreuz Christi entdecken, entweder weil er am Kreuz gestorben oder weil er Zimmermann gewesen sei. Wäre er einen Abhang hinabgestoßen worden, würden sie von „einem Abhang des Lebens über den Himmeln faseln“; überliefert bei Origenes, Contra Celsum 6,34; dazu Hengel/Schwemer, Urgemeinde 507–508. Vgl. auch Enrico Norelli, Ascensio Isaiae. Commentarius (CC.SA 8; Turnhout: Brepols, 1995) 289–290, 434. Ausführlicher dazu Schwemer, „Zersägung“, 58–60. 60 Dial. 120,5. 61 Höchstens in der Umkehrung: In Pesiq. Rab. 4,3 und im Targum zu Jes 66,1 (Übersetzung Bruce D. Chilton, The Isaiah Targum 126) wird ausdrücklich betont, dass Manasse „Schmiede“ beziehungsweise „Handwerker mit eisernen Sägen“ kommen ließ, um Jesaja zu zersägen. Findet sich darauf eine Entgegnung in der „Griechischen Legende“, die in mindestens zwei Menologienbänden enthalten ist? Hier versucht es Manasse erst mit eisernen Sägen. Jesaja erklärt, es sei ihm bestimmt, mit einer hölzernen Säge getötet zu werden, anders könne man ihn nicht töten. Jesaja stirbt als Typos für Christus. Siehe dazu Schwemer, „Zersägung“, 59–60.

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der Vit Proph.62 Eine eigenartige Verbindung zwischen b. Yebam. 49b und den Vit Proph besteht in der Angabe, dass Simeon b. Azzai in Jerusalem in einem Familienregister gelesen haben will, dass Manasse Jesaja tötete. In den Vit Proph heißt es am Buchschluss: Und es gab noch andere Propheten …, deren Namen enthalten sind in ihren Geschlechtsregistern, innerhalb der Namensbücher Israels, denn das ganze Volk Israel wurde einzeln namentlich aufgeschrieben.63

Die „Eiche Rogel“, unter der Jesaja begraben liegt, nimmt die Tradition der heiligen Bäume auf, die in den Vit Proph insgesamt dreimal erscheinen.64 Möglicherweise ist das Motiv von der Flucht Jesajas in einen Baum in der rabbinischen Literatur eine Umwandlung des alten Grabbaumes mit Hilfe des Daphne-Motivs.65 Mit der Bezeichnung „Rogel“ wird das Grab in der Nähe der Walkerquelle und des Walkerfeldes im Kidrontal lokalisiert, das im Zusammenhang mit Jesaja und der Belagerung durch die Assyrer erwähnt wird.66 Mit den „historischen“ Angaben zu Hiskias Bautätigkeit für die Wasserversorgung der Stadt vor dem Ansturm der Assyrer in den Königsbüchern verbindet die Jesaja-Vita zwei ansprechende Legenden über die Entstehung und die Bedeutung des Siloah für Jerusalem. Es handelt sich um typisch haggadische, „kreative Historiographie“ und „kreative Philologie“67: 2 Und Gott tat das Wunder (σημεῖον) des Siloah wegen des Propheten. Denn vor dem Sterben wurde ihm schwach und er betete um Wasser zum Trinken. Und sofort wurde ihm aus ihm gesandt. Deshalb wurde er Siloah genannt, was übersetzt heißt „der Gesandte“.

62

Diese „hölzerne Säge“ wurde um 570 den Pilgern in der Basilika des Propheten Sacharja in Eleutheropolis gezeigt. Siehe Pilger von Piacensa, Itinerarium 32,3 (CChr.SL 175, 168); vgl. Schwemer, „Zersägung“, 60 Anm. 86; zur „hölzernen Säge“ in der lateinischen (bei Petrus Comestor), äthiopischen und arabischen Übersetzung der Vit Proph siehe Schwemer, Vitae, 562–563 Anm. 1c. 63 Vit Proph, Subscriptio; dazu Schwemer, Vitae, 655–656. 64 Vit Proph 1,1; weiter Hosea-Vita (5,6: Eiche von Silo); Jona-Vita (10,6: Eiche der Debora). Zu diesen Orakel- und Begräbnisbäumen und ihrem Vorkommen im AT (Gen 35,8; Ri 4,5 u.ö.); siehe Othmar Keel/Max Küchler/Christoph Uehlinger, Orte und Landschaften der Bibel. Ein Handbuch und Studienreiseführer zum Heiligen Land. Band 1: Geographischgeschichtliche Landeskunde (Zürich u.a./Göttingen: Benzinger/Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1984) 96–97; Schwemer, Studien I, 116–119: „Exkurs: Heilige Bäume“. 65 Rabbinische Haggada nimmt gern auch Elemente aus der griechischen Mythologie auf; vgl. Schwemer, „Zersägung“, 60. Kalmin, Migrating Tales, 51 Anm. 59 erwägt, ob nicht die rabbinische Flucht und das Verbergen in einem Baum durch das Tötungsinstrument die „Säge“ veranlasst sei. Die Flucht in den Baum ist dann auch in der – christlichen – syrischen Schatzhöhle belegt; siehe Schwemer, Studien I, 104–105 Anm. 38. Das ist vermutlich wiederum jüdischer Einfluss. 66 Erwähnt in Jes 7,3; 2 Kön 18,17; Jes 36,2. 67 Zu dieser Übersetzung von Jitzḥaq Heinemanns Begrifflichkeit siehe Beate Ego, Targum Scheni zu Ester (TSAJ 54; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996) 30.

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3 Und unter Hiskia – bevor er die Wasserbecken und Teiche baute – kam auf das Gebet des Jesaja hin ein wenig Wasser heraus, denn das Volk war durch die Belagerung durch die Heiden eingeschlossen; und (das geschah,) damit die Stadt nicht vernichtet würde, wie eine, die kein Wasser hat. 4 Denn die Feinde fragten: „Woher haben sie zu trinken?“ Und als sie die Stadt erreicht hatten, ließen sie sich am Siloah nieder. Wenn nun die Juden kamen, floss Wasser heraus, wenn aber die Heiden (kamen), (floss es) nicht. Deshalb fließt es bis heute plötzlich, damit das Geheimnis gezeigt wird. 5 Und da dies durch Jesaja geschah, begrub ihn das Volk um des Andenkens willen mit Sorgfalt und Pracht, damit es durch seine Gebete auch nach seinem Tode in gleicher Weise in den Genuss des Wassers käme, denn es war ihnen auch eine Weissagung über es gegeben worden.68

So wird das intermittierende Fließen des Siloah mit dem Propheten in Verbindung gebracht.69 Jesajah ist hiermit der Schutzpatron der Stadt um dessentwillen der Siloah-Tunnel entstanden ist, dessen treues, intermittierendes Fließen wiederum allein dem Propheten und seinem Gebet zu verdanken ist. Hiskias Glanzleistung, der Tunnelbau, wird geradezu vergessen, er baute wohl die Wasseranlagen der Teiche, aber das Geschenk der Siloah-Quelle verdankt die Stadt allein dem Propheten, dem das Wasser gesandt70 wurde, und seinem Gebet.71 Das „plötzliche“ Fließen des Wassers wird als eine „Weissagung“ ( χρησμός ) verstanden. Damit wird wohl auf Jes 12,3 und die Riten des Sukkotfestes angespielt, die am Siloahteich vollzogen wurden.72 Diese Riten wurden vermutlich auf die endzeitliche Rettung der Stadt bezogen. Weiter wird zunächst die Lage des Jesajagrabes durch ihr Verhältnis zu den Königsgräbern noch einmal näher bestimmt, was eine erstaunliche Ortskenntnis verrät.73 Salomo habe nach dem Bauplan Davids das Grab der Köni68

Vgl. die Übersetzung in Schwemer, Vitae, 564–566. Siehe dazu ausführlich Schwemer, Studien I, 122–158. 70 Vgl. Jes 8,6. Dieselbe Etymologie für ἀπεσταλμένος, aber christologisch gedeutet durch die Verbindung mit Gen 49,10b durch Gezerah Shavah, in Joh 9,7; siehe dazu Hartwig Thyen, Das Johannesevangelium (HNT 6; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005) 459–461; dort auch zur Auslegung Eusebs, der den Bezug zu Gen 49,10b sieht. Vgl. zu Siloahtunnel und -teich Max Küchler, Jerusalem. Ein Handbuch und Studienreiseführer zur Heiligen Stadt 64– 65. 71 Zu Gichon-Quelle, Hiskia-Tunnel und Siloah-Becken siehe Küchler, Jerusalem 46–78. 72 Schwemer, Vitae, 566 Anm. 6c: „Die Schlußstellung von Jes 12 am Ende der JesajaSammlung 1–11 zeigt, daß die Jesaja-Redaktion im 4.–3. Jh. v.Chr. die enge Verbindung zwischen dem Propheten und dem Siloah kennt“. Vgl. die Schilderung des Laubhüttenfestes in Joh 7,1–52, wo Jesus am Höhenpunkt des Festes sagt (37–39): „Wen da dürstet, der komme zu mir; und es trinke, wer an mich glaubt! Wie die Schrift sagt: Ströme lebendigen Wassers werden aus seinem Leib fließen. Damit meinte er aber den Geist, den die empfangen sollten, die an ihn glauben“. Zur eschatologischen Deutung von Jes 12,3; Sach 14,7–8; Ez 47; vgl. Schwemer, Vitae, 566 Anm. 5c. 73 Vgl. Neh 3,15–16. 69

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ge errichtet.74 Daran schließt sich eine apokryphe Hiskia-Jesaja-Erzählung an, die erklärt, warum Hiskias Nachkommen in die babylonische Gefangenschaft gerieten und als Höflinge Eunuchen werden mussten. All das atmet so deutlich den Geist der frühjüdischen Haggadah, wie wir sie vom Jubiläenbuch, von Josephus und Pseudo-Philons Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum, kennen, dass sogar David Satran überzeugt ist, dass eine solche Darstellung nicht ohne eine klare jüdische Vorgeschichte möglich ist.75 Topographisch interessant sind die genauen Angaben über die Lage von Jesajas Grab im Verhältnis zum Siloah, zu den davidischen Königsgräbern und den Gräbern der Priester. Diese Angaben müssen älter sein als die viel weniger präzisen über die Lage des Grabes des Herrenbruders Jakobus, der in derselben Gegend von einem Walkerholz erschlagen und begraben worden sei.76 Schon an dieser Kostprobe kann man erkennen, dass es schwer fällt, aus der Fülle der haggadischen Erzählungen, die in den Vit Proph anklingen, eine kurze Auswahl zu bieten, um zu begründen, warum sie sehr wohl zur frühjüdischen „Haggada“ zu rechnen sind. Louis Ginzberg hat ganz zu Recht die Vit Proph in seine Darstellung der „Legends of the Jews“ aufgenommen. Es gibt für viele frühe Traditionen keine bessere Quelle.77 III.2 Die Jeremia-Vita Jeremia stirbt in den Vit Proph in Taphnas/Tachpanhes78, dem Ort seiner letzten Tätigkeit in der Septuaginta (Jer 50,7–9).79 Jeremia war aus Anathoth, und in Taphnas (in) Ägypten starb er, vom Volk gesteinigt. Er liegt aber begraben am Ort des Hauses des Pharao, denn die Ägypter ehrten ihn, weil sie Wohltaten von ihm empfangen hatten.80

74

Dio Cassius, Ep 69,14,2 bezeichnet die königliche Grablege in Jerusalem als „Solomos Grabmal, das die Juden hoch verehren“; es sei vor dem Bar Kochba-Aufstand von selbst eingestürzt, was ein deutliches Vorzeichen für die Verwüstung Judäas gewesen sei. 75 Satran, Biblical Prophets, 53. 76 Nach Hegesipp bei Euseb, Hist. Eccl. 2,23,18. 77 So ist es auch ein Fehler, wenn Kalmin, Migrating Tales, 32–33, 136 die Vit Proph praktisch völlig beiseite lässt und in der Ascensio Jesaiae den frühesten Text für die Zersägung Jesajas sieht. 78 Das Jeremia-Apokryphon aus Qumran nennt Tachpanes als Ort der Gesetzesermahnung Jeremias, denn nachdem er aus Babylon zurückgekehrt war, muss er nach Ägypten (4Q385a [ApocrJer Ca] 18 II 1.6); vgl. dazu Doering, Jeremia, 63–65. 79 Louis Ginzberg, Legends IV, 399–400, verweist auf eine direkte Parallelüberlieferung im Midrasch Aggada zu Num 30,15 (Salomon Buber [Hrg.], Midraš aggādā: ʾal Ḥamiṣṣa hummeṣē tôrā, Nachdruck der Ausgabe Wien 1984, Jerusalem 1961, 271). Es wird sich um eine Übersetzung ins Hebräische handeln. Dazu schon Schwemer, Studien I, 166. 80 Vit Proph 2,1–2; zur Übersetzung vgl. Schwemer, Vitae, 170–172.

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Todesart und Grabesort sind aus der letzten Zeichenhandlung Jeremias erschlossen, dem Gott befohlen hatte: Nimm dir große Steine und verstecke sie auf dem Vorplatz des Hauses des Pharao in Taphnas vor den Augen der Männer von Juda und sprich: So spricht der Herr: Siehe ich sende Nabuchodonosor den König von Babel …81

Nach den Vit Proph antworten seine Landsleute auf Jeremias letzte große Scheltrede mit Steinen. Von den heidnischen Ägyptern erhält der Prophet dagegen ein Heroengrab zum Dank dafür, daß er sie durch sein Gebet von Schlangen82 und Krokodilen, die die Ägypter als „Nephot“83 bezeichnen, befreite. Und diejenigen, die gottesgläubig sind, beten bis heute an dem Grab (τόπος)84, und indem sie vom Sand des Grabes nehmen, heilen sie Schlangenbisse. (Vit Proph 2,4)

Man wüsste gerne mehr über den Zeitpunkt des „bis heute“, und wer in dem nächsten Satz spricht: Wir aber haben gehört von den Dienern des Antigonos und des Ptolemaios, alten Männern, dass Alexander der Makedone an das Grab des Propheten trat, und da er seine Geheimnisse erkannte, überführte er seine Überreste nach Alexandria und setzte sie ehrenvoll bei ringsum (die Stadt). (Vit Proph 2,5)

Diese Tradition wird auf die Dienerschaft der Alexandergefährten und späteren Diadochenherrscher Antigonos Monophthalmos und Ptolemaios Lagou zurückgeführt. Beide Herrscher hatten historische Bedeutung für die Geschicke Palästinas und Jerusalems bei der Reichsteilung und für die Entstehung der ägyptischen Diaspora.85 Das wird hier legendär verklärt. Nach dem Alexanderroman besuchte Alexander der Große vor der Gründung Alexandrias das Heiligtum des Zeus in der Oase Siwa, wo er ein Orakel erhielt, und das Grab des Osiris in Taphosirion.86 In den Vit Proph hat sich die jüdische Version der Gründungslegenden Alexandrias erhalten. Statt zum Grab des Osiris 81

Jer 50(43),9–10, LXX; 51,1(44) LXX. In den Onomastica sacra wird Taphnas als „erschreckter Mund der Schlange“ gedeutet, siehe Schwemer, Studien I, 166. 83 Diese Angabe ist korrekt. „Nephot“ ist Demotisch; spätere Rezensionen (Dor und Ep2) verwenden „Ephot“, das ist Koptisch, die in Ägypten seit dem 3. Jh. n.Chr. gesprochene und geschriebene Sprache. Vgl. dazu Schwemer, Vitae, 573 Anm. 3d. Die alte lateinische Übersetzung behält „Nephot“ bei; die Übersetzung ist erhalten in der Handschrift Scurialensis c. IV 23 [XV], der Text ediert von Françoise Dolbeau, „Deux opuscules latins, rélatives aux personnages de la Bible et antérieurs à Isidore de Seville“, RHT 16 (1986) 116. Auch diese lateinische Übersetzung ist wohl in Ägypten entstanden. Vgl. dazu unten Anm. 92. 84 Zu τόπος als Bezeichnung des Grabes vgl. Sir 46,12; 49,10; Jes 56,5 LXX; Mk 16,6. 85 Vgl. Schwemer, Vitae, 574 Anm. 2c. 86 Pseudo-Callistenes, Historia 1,31,6; dazu Anna Maria Schwemer, „Zur griechischen und jüdischen Gründungslegende Alexandrias“, in Tobias Georges/Felix Albrecht/Reinhard Feldmeier (Hg.), Alexandria (COMES 1; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013) 179. 82

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geht Alexander zum Grab Jeremias. Statt des makedonischen Gründungsritus mit ringsum gestreuten Gerstengraupen87, um den Umkreis der Stadt festzulegen, transferiert Alexander die Gebeine des Propheten, die er „ringsum“ die Stadt beisetzte.88 Er schützte sie so vor Schlangen und Krokodilen.89 Schlangen spielen auch eine große Rolle bei der Gründung der Stadt im Alexanderroman. Besonders umstritten, ob jüdisch oder christlich oder nur christlich ergänzt, ist die einzige messianische Passage in den Vit Proph: 7 Dieser Jeremia hat den Priestern Ägyptens ein Zeichen (σημεῖον) gegeben, dass es bestimmt sei, dass ihre Götzenbilder erschüttert werden und zusammenstürzen müssen. Deswegen verehren sie auch bis heute eine Jungfrau im Wochenbett und einen Säugling legen sie in eine Krippe und fallen vor ihm nieder. Und Ptolemaios, dem König, sagten sie, als er sie nach dem Grund fragte: „Es ist ein von den Vätern überliefertes Geheimnis, das von einem frommen Propheten unseren Vätern übergeben wurde, und wir erwarten den Abschluss (πέρας) seines Geheimnisses.“ (Vit Proph 2,7–9)

Wahrscheinlich geht die Passage auf die jüdische Grundschrift zurück und vielleicht ist sogar nur die „Krippe“, in der der Säugling liegt, und seine Anbetung eine christliche Ergänzung. Die Legende nimmt Jes 19,1 LXX, 19,20 LXX und Jer 26,15 LXX (vgl. auch Jer 51,29 LXX) auf, denn die Verbindung vom Zusammenstürzen der Götterbilder mit dem Kommen des messianischen Retters ist durch Jesajas „Vision über Ägypten“ (Jes 19 LXX) vorgegeben, eine Prophetie, die sicher auch im Diasporaaufstand unter Trajan, den kriegerische Messiasprätendenten angeführt haben, eine Rolle gespielt hat.90 Jere87

Curtius Rufus, Hist. 4,8,6; auf diese Gründungsgeschichte verzichtet kein antiker Alexanderhistoriker, im Alexanderroman wird sie ausgeschmückt; dazu Schwemer, „Gründungslegende“ 175–192. 88 Ptolemaios Lagou überführte den Leichnam Alexanders nach Memphis und setzte ihn dann in einem Heroon in Alexandria bei. Siehe Curtius Rufus, Hist. 10,10,20; vgl. PseudoCallistenes, Historia 1,33,11; Vita 1,33,8; 3,24,2–4; dazu Schwemer, „Gründungslegende“, 183–184. Im Alexanderroman offenbart Sarapis dem König: „die ganze Stadt, die du jetzt gründest, wird dein Grab sein“. (Übersetzung Schwemer loc. cit.) 89 Vgl. David Frankfurter, „The Cult of the Martyrs in Egypt before Constantine: The Evidence of the Coptic Apocalypse of Elijah“, VC 48 (1994) 25–47 (36): „the Life of the Prophet Jeremiah … claims that Jeremiah’s bones were buried in Alexandria, with the result that the land was cleared of snakes. Such a concern for snakes, as well as the ‚magical‘ apotropaia with which the bones are endowed for this purpose, recalls not only the use of Horus iconography against snakes and scorpions, but an overwhelming focus of native Egyptian magical spells in general“. (Hervorhebungen Frankfurter). 90 Ausführlicher dazu Schwemer, Vitae, 576–578; dies., „Zum Abbruch des jüdischen Lebens in Alexandria. Der Aufstand in der Diaspora unter Trajan (115–117)“, in Tobias Georges/Felix Albrecht/Reinhard Feldmeier (Hg.), Alexandria 382–399 (383–386). Vgl. auch William Horbury, Jewish War under Trajan and Hadrian (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014) 272; hier 174–178 (vgl. Index 492 s.v. „Lucuas“) zu Lukuas und dem Kyprier Andreas.

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mia, der Prophet, der in Ägypten lebte und starb, musste den ägyptischen Priestern Jesajas messianische Prophetie mitteilen. Das Ritual der ägyptischen Priester zur Geburt des Pharao, das hier im Hintergrund steht, gab es tatsächlich.91 Die alte lateinische Übersetzung ist vermutlich in Ägypten entstanden, denn sie gibt die Passage „ …eine Jungfrau im Wochenbett…“ folgendermaßen wieder: Unde hactenus sacerdotes eorum in quodam templi loco virginem ponentes et puerum in presepe constituentes adorant. Daher bringen bis heute ihre Priester eine Jungfrau an einen bestimmten Platz des Tempels, legen ihr Kind in eine Krippe und beten es an.

Die lateinische Übersetzung rechnet also noch mit einem funktionierenden ägyptischen Tempelkult ohne jede weitere Polemik.92 Auffällig ist, dass diese Legende mit Ptolemaios als Herrscher rechnet, dem die ägyptischen Priester mit dem ‚Zitat‘ von Jer 18,7.9 LXX das Ende der Herrschaft seiner Dynastie ankündigen.93 Sind die Römer hier noch nicht auf dem Plan? Mindestens ebenso interessant ist die Variante der Legende von der Rettung der Tempelgeräte, die sich in der Jeremia-Vita anschließt (Vit Proph 2,9–14). Der Schlussabschnitt handelt vom Verbergen der „Lade des Gesetzes“ und ihrer endzeitlichen Auferstehung: 9 Dieser Prophet entrückte vor der Zerstörung des Tempels die Lade des Gesetzes und die Dinge drinnen und vollbrachte, dass diese verschlungen wurden in einem Felsen.94 Und er sagte zu den Umstehenden: 10 „Weggegangen ist der Herr vom Sinai95 zum Himmel und er wird wieder kommen mit Macht.96 Und das Zeichen seiner Wiederkunft wird euch sein, wenn alle Völker das Holz verehren“.

91 Siehe Emma Brunner-Traut, „Pharao und Jesus als Söhne Gottes“, in: Emma BrunnerTraut, Gelebte Mythen. Beiträge zum ägyptischen Mythos (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 19883) 31–59. 92 Text von Scurialensis c. IV 23 bei Dolbeau, „Opuscules“, 116; Gleede, Parabiblica Latina, 47; er meint jedoch (54), der Übersetzer sei an dieser Stelle gescheitert und hätte λοχός nicht mehr verstanden. Vielleicht ist sogar der „Säugling in der Krippe“ doch keine christliche Interpolation. Das hatte ich einst vermutet. 93 Jer 18,7.9 LXX: πέρας λαλήσω ἐπὶ ἔθνος καὶ βασιλείαν; in Vit Proph wird sonst immer τέλος oder συντέλεια für das „Ende“ verwendet. 94 Vgl. 2 Makk 2,4a. 95 Vat. gr. 2125 und die alte lateinische Übersetzung Scurialensis c. IV 23 haben „Zion“, doch „Sinai“ ist die ursprüngliche Angabe; vgl. Dolbeau, „Opuscules“, 117 Anm. 5. Die Überlieferung ist sehr variantenreich, frühe Korrekturen ersetzen den Sinai durch „Zion“. Das scheint eine christliche „Verbesserung“. Dazu Schwemer, Vitae, 580 Anm. 10a. 96 Vgl. 1 Hen 1,3–4: „Über die Auserwählten rede ich, und über sie sprach ich die Bilderrede: ‚Es wird der Heilige und Große heraustreten aus seiner Wohnstätte, und der Gott der Welt, und von dort wird er auf den Berg Sinai treten, und er wird erscheinen mit seinen Heerscharen, und er wird erscheinen in der Stärke seiner Macht‘“. (Übersetzung Siegbert Uhlig,

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11 Er sagte aber: „Diese Lade holt niemand heraus, außer Aaron, und die Tafeln drinnen wird keiner mehr aufrollen von den Priestern oder Propheten, außer Mose, dem Erwählten Gottes. 12 Und bei der Auferstehung wird die Lade als erste auferstehen und herausgehen aus dem Felsen und sie wird aufgestellt werden auf dem Berg Sinai. Und alle Heiligen werden sich zu ihm versammeln, weil sie dort den Herrn erwarten und weil sie vor dem Feind fliehen, der sie vernichten will.“ … 14 Und der Fels ist in der Wüste, wo zuerst die Lade gebaut worden ist mitten zwischen den beiden Bergen, in denen Mose und Aaron ruhen. Und in der Nacht wird die Wolke wie Feuer (leuchten) nach dem ursprünglichen Vorbild, denn ganz gewiss wird die Herrlichkeit Gottes nicht von seinem Gesetz weichen.

Der ganze Abschnitt über die Rettung der Lade und Jeremias eschatologische Prophetie ist konzentriert auf das Gesetz und den Berg Sinai. Erweitert und korrigiert wird die Ladelegende von 2 Makk 2,4–8, die in den „Urkunden“ aufgezeichnet gewesen sein soll, die sich unter den Schriften, die Nehemia schon gesammelt hatte für die Jerusalemer Bibliothek, befunden hätten. Judas Makkabäus soll sie nach dem Aufstand gegen die Seleukiden wieder hergestellt haben, und die Schreiber des Einleitungsbriefes von 2 Makk bieten an, sie den Juden in der ägyptischen Diaspora zu senden.97 Anders als in 2 Makk werden in der Jeremia-Vita keine anderen Tempelgeräte erwähnt.98 Während 2 Makk 2,7b betont, dass der Ort unbekannt bleibt bis zur Endzeit, ist in der Jeremia-Vita der Gottesname, mit dem der Prophet den Felsen versiegelt hat, nicht lesbar, denn die Wolkensäule bedeckt ihn. Der Berg, dessen Fels die Lade birgt, ist auch nicht mehr der Nebo, auf dem Mose begraben liegt, sondern der Sinai, der zwischen Nebo und Hor, wo Aaron begraben liegt, lokalisiert wird.99 Eindeutig christlicher Zusatz ist die Verheißung in V. 10b, dass das Ende der Welt kommt, wenn alle Völker das Holz, d.h. das Kreuz (ξύλον), verehren. Das Erscheinen des Kreuzes als Zeichen für die Wiederkunft Christi ist oft belegt100, aber auch die Erwartung der endzeitlichen Verehrung des Kreuzes durch alle Völker.101 Vermutlich hat diese Notiz die Hoffnung, dass alle

Das äthiopische Henochbuch [JSHRZ V/6; Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1984] 508– 509); vgl. zu den Parallelen loc. cit.: Dtn 33,2; Mi 1,3; Ps 68,18; Jud 14–15 u.ö. 97 2 Makk 2,1.13–15. 98 Die σκηνή, das Zeltheiligtum, das 2 Makk 2,5 erwähnt, erscheint jedoch in der Habakuk-Vita (12,13–15). 99 Vgl. Paulus lokalisiert den Sinai bei Hegra (Gal 4,25); vermutlich stützt er sich auf Lokaltradition. 100 Mt 24,30 (?); Barn 12,1; Did 16,16 u.ö.; dazu Schwemer, Vitae, 580 Anm. 10d. 101 Asc Jes 3,18 erweitert Mt 28,19: „Sie werden lehren [beziehungweise: zu Jüngern machen] alle Völker und jede Sprache in [Hinsicht auf] die Auferstehung des Geliebten, und die an sein Kreuz glauben, werden gerettet werden“. Vgl. 9,16; dazu Elgvin, „Editing“ 283.

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Völker schließlich das Gesetz verehren werden, das sich in der hölzernen Lade befindet, verdrängt.102 Das Motiv der Flucht vor dem letzten Feind in die Wüste zum Sinai entspricht der Flucht Israels vor dem Pharao am Anfang. Die Flucht in die Wüste – und damit zum Sinai – von Palästina aus ist für das 1. Jahrhundert gut belegt durch die (zelotischen) Propheten, die ihre Volksscharen mit dem Versprechen, die Wunder des Exodus zu wiederholen, an den Jordan und in die Wüste führten.103 Die endzeitliche Auferstehung der Lade104, die hier nicht „Bundeslade“, sondern „Gesetzeslade“ (κιβωτὸς τοῦ νόμου105) genannt wird, wird ganz wie das Ritual zur Verlesung des Gesetzes im Synagogengottesdienst beschrieben. Dies ist ein weiteres deutliches Indiz für den Ursprung dieser Version der Ladelegende in der Diaspora Ägyptens. Das Bekenntnis, dass Gottes Herrlichkeit (δόξα) nicht weichen wird von seinem Gesetz, und dies angezeigt wird durch die Feuerwolke über dem Ort ihrer verborgenen Bewahrung, nimmt das Erscheinen der Lichtherrlichkeit Gottes auf dem Sinai (Ex 24,17; 40,34–38) und die Berichte von Gottes Gegenwart in der Feuerwolke bei Nacht auf.106 Aussagen über Gottes Gegenwart (δόξα) im Heiligtum wandeln sich zu Aussagen über seine Gegenwart im Gesetz.107 Mit dem Schlusssatz klingt der Berufungsbericht Jeremias an, in dem die Gleichsetzung Jeremias mit dem Propheten „wie Mose“,108 schon intendiert ist: 15 Und Gott gab dem Jeremia Gnade, damit er das Ende seines Geheimnisses selbst vollbringe, damit er Teilhaber Moses werde. Und sie sind zusammen bis heute.

Das Geheimnis Gottes ist seine Tora. Während die ägyptischen Priester (V. 8) nur auf die Erfüllung des „Geheimnisses“ Jesajas, d. h. dessen Verheißung, warten, darf Jeremia selbst mit Moses zusammen die endzeitliche neue Gabe der Tora vollziehen. 102

Zu dieser Erwartung vgl. Philon, Mos. 2,44. Josephus, B. J. 2,259; Ant. 20, 167; siehe dazu Martin Hengel, Die Zeloten. Untersuchungen zur jüdischen Freiheitsbewegung in der Zeit von Herodes I. bis 70 n. Chr., hg. von Roland Deines/Claus-Jürgen Thornton (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 20113) 231–234, 249–255 u.ö. Vgl. oben Anm. 15 zu Theudas. 104 Die Vorstellung, dass sie als erste auferstehen wird, folgt dem Grundsatz τὰ ἔσχατα ὡς τὰ πρῶτα, so wie sie einst dem wandernden Gottesvolk voranging und die Quartiere bereitete (Num 10,33), wird sie es in der Endzeit tun. 105 Zur verwandten Terminologie 4 Makk 15,31–32 und bei Philon, siehe Schwemer, Studien I, 208–209; der Behälter der Torarolle in den Synagogen wurde κιβωτός genannt. 106 Vgl. Ex 13,22; Num 9,15–17; Dtn 1,33; Ps 78,14. 107 Vgl. Ex 40,32(38) LXX. 108 Jer 1,7; Dtn 18,18bβ; dazu Siegfried Herrmann, Jeremia (BKAT XII/1; NeukirchenVluyn: Neukirchner Verlag 1986) 63; Schwemer, Vitae, 584 Anm. 15c. 103

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Auffällig ist in dieser Vita die Konzentration auf Jeremia als „Heros“ der jüdischen Diaspora in Ägypten. Sein wunderkräftiges Grab schützt nicht nur Taphnas gegen Schlangen und Krokodile, sondern seine Gebeine beschützen auch die Stadt Alexandria seit ihrer Gründung durch den Makedonen. Sie geben der jüdischen Bevölkerung im Land und in der Stadt „Raum im Land und Lebensschutz“109. Während das Thema der Rettung der Tempelgeräte in der frühjüdischen und rabbinischen Tradition weiter ausgestaltet und abgewandelt wird, fehlt der Bezug zu Ägypten – soweit ich sehe. Umso bedauerlicher ist es, dass das Jeremia-Apokryphon aus Qumran gerade noch den Namen Tachpanes nennt, aber dann abbricht. III.3 Ezechiel-Vita Ezechiel stammte aus der Stadt „Arira“ und war wie Jeremia aus priesterlichem Geschlecht. Arira/Sarira ist das alttestamentliche Serada.110 1 … Und er starb im Land der Chaldäer zur Zeit der Gefangenschaft, nachdem er vieles geweissagt hatte denen in Judäa. 2 Es tötete ihn aber der Fürst des Volkes Israel dort, weil er von ihm wegen (der Errichtung von Stätten) der Verehrung von Götzenbildern überführt worden war.

Wahrscheinlich ist an eine Tötung durchs Schwert gedacht, wie Hebr 11,37 nahelegt.111 Mit der Wendung ἡγούμενος bezeichnet die Septuaginta in Ez 43, 44 und 45 die Könige und Fürsten von Juda als Übersetzung von mäläkh und nāśî’.112 Aber hier ist der ἡγούμενος kein Davidide, sondern kommt aus den Stämmen Dan und Gad, die – wie V. 20 betont – dem Propheten „feindlich gegenüber standen alle Tage seines Lebens“. Ezechiel liegt bestattet im Grab des Noahsohns Sem, dem Stammvater aller Semiten, der nach dem Jubiläenbuch als König ein „Reich der Mitte“ beherrschte, zu dem Babylonien und Palästina gehörten und das Jerusalem zum Zentrum hatte.113 Sein Sohn Arphaxad herrschte dann – nur – über Baby-

109 Hartmut Gese, „Der Tod im Alten Testament“, in ders., Zur biblischen Theologie (Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 19832) 35 über den Heroen- und Grabkult und die heilende Kraft des Grabes; zitiert in Schwemer, Studien I, 78. 110 Zum Nachweis siehe Schwemer, Studien I, 243–246; Schwemer, Vitae, 585 Anm. 1a; aus Serada stammte auch Jerobeam (1Kön 11, 26.43 und 12, 24b–z LXX), der Erzverführer zum Götzendienst, sowie der Hohepriester Alkimos, den 1 Makk 7,9 mit ὁ ἀσεβής betitelt, nach der rabbinischen Überlieferung. Später wurde auch Judas Ischariot die Herkunft aus der Stadt nachgesagt. Dazu Schwemer, Studien I, 294. 111 Zu den späteren Ausgestaltungen und zur Übertragung des Hippolytmotivs (von Pferden zu Tode geschleift) auf den alttestamentlichen Propheten, vgl. Schwemer, Studien I, 255– 259. 112 Ez 43,7.9; 44,3; 45,7; dazu Schwemer, Studien I, 250 Anm. 53. 113 Vgl. Jub 8,12: Bei der Teilung unter die drei Söhne Noahs „kam heraus für Sem die Mitte der Erde“; 8,19: „Und der Berg Sion die Mitte der Erde“.

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lonien. Ezechiel ruht also in einem Familiengrab in Μαούρ, d.h. einem babylonischen (Ur)Mamre, und damit nicht in der Fremde. Ja, die Bezüge sind gewissermaßen nie abgerissen, denn Abraham soll nach dem Vorbild dieses Grabes das Grab Saras im judäischen Hebron gestaltet haben. Es sei wie dieses eine Doppelhöhle.114 Ezechiel wirkt in den Vit Proph als Gerichtsprophet, als Apokalyptiker, der Zeichen115 der Endzeit prophezeit, und nach dem Vorbild Moses als Fürsprecher und Wundertäter. Er rettete sein Volk, indem er den Fluss Chobar zum Stehen brachte (vgl. Ez 14,21–29), ihm eine wunderbar reiche Fischmahlzeit durch Gebet schenkte (vgl. Ez 47,8–10) und vielen „Sterbenden das Leben von Gott erbat“. Zur Abschreckung der Feinde bewirkte er Wunderzeichen (τεραστίων) und „das Wunder/die Prophetie (τέρατι) der Totengebeine“ (vgl. Ez 37,1–11)116, so dass die Feinde zur Überzeugung kommen, dass es eine Hoffnung für Israel gibt „und zwar hier und in der zukünftigen Weltzeit“.117 Ez 37,11 wird explizit zitiert, aber in eine andere Situation versetzt. Auf diese Weise müssen die feindlichen, paganen Bedrücker die nationale Wiedergeburt und die Auferstehungshoffnung Israels erkennen. Nach Jerusalem wurde er entrückt (vgl. Ez 8,3), um die Ungläubigen zu überführen (vgl. Ez 11,1–13). Er sah als Visionär die Vorgänge in Jerusalem, sah wie Mose das Urbild des Tempels118 und wie Daniel seine (Neu)Gründung (vgl. Dan 9,25). Er war Richter und bestrafte „in Babylon den Stamm Dan und den von

114 Vit Proph 3,3–5: „3 Und sie begruben ihn auf dem Feld Maour im Grab von Sem und Arphaxad, den Vätern Abrahams. 4 Und das Grab ist eine Doppelhöhle, denn auch Abraham baute in Hebron nach dem Vorbild das Grab Saras. 5 Doppelt wird sie aber genannt, weil sie gewunden ist und verborgen vom Erdboden aus ein Obergemach, und sie ist über der Erde im Felsen hängend“. 115 Die entsprechende Formel lautet in den Vit Proph: τέρας ἔδωκεν. Damit leiten die Vit Proph bevorzugt apokryphe Prophetien über die Vorzeichen der Endzeit ein; die Formel nimmt Dtn 13,1–2 und vor allem 1Kön 13,3–5 LXX auf; vgl. Schwemer, Studien I, 82–87; τέρας und τεράστιος sind zudem Vorzugsworte in den Vit Proph. Die Bedeutung von τέρας umfasst sowohl Vorzeichen wie Prophetie; mit τεράστιος im Plural werden hier und in der Daniel-Vita die vom Propheten bewirkten Wunder bezeichnet. Der Tragiker Ezechiel verwendet in seiner Exagoge τεράστιος sowohl für das Wunder des brennenden Dornbuschs wie für die ägyptischen Plagen (Euseb, Praep. ev. 9,29,9.14). Weiter dazu unten Anm. 166. 116 Ez 37,11 LXX wird zitiert und frei abgewandelt, siehe Schwemer, Studien I, 282–283; in 4QApcr Ez wird Ez 37,1–11 auf die Auferstehung bezogen, ebenso in der Darstellung von Ez 37 auf der Nordwand der Synagoge von Dura Europos, dazu Schwemer, Studien I, 283– 284. 117 Vit Proph 3,12–13. Man könnte aber auch einen unvermittelten Subjektwechsel annehmen, dann wäre das Volk angeredet und der Prophet würde seine Landsleute von der heilvollen Zukunft überzeugen. 118 Vit Proph 3,16; vgl. Ez 42,15 LXX versteht die Tempelvision des Propheten als Schau des himmlischen Heiligtums.

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Gad …, weil sie die verfolgten, die das Gesetz hielten“119. Er ließ „Schlangen ihre Kinder und ihr Vieh verzehren“.120 Zudem kündigte er ihnen an, dass das Volk ihretwegen in Medien bleiben müsse „bis zum Ende ihres Irrtums“. Dan und Gad werden in Ez 48 bei der neuen Landnahme in der äußersten Peripherie angesiedelt. In Dan befand sich ein heidnisches Heiligtum121 und Gad war der Glücksgott der Nabatäer. Diese Stämme sind auch in den Testamenten der Zwölf Patriarchen die schlechtesten.122 Aber die Hoffnung, dass sie ihren Götzendienst aufgeben und dann die endzeitliche Rückkehr der Diaspora möglich wird, ist in der Ezechiel-Vita genauso wie in den TestXII nicht aufgegeben.123 Die Ezechiel-Vita bleibt in der Aufreihung der Episoden sehr nahe am Prophetenbuch, das einmal sogar wörtlich zitiert wird. Mit dem expliziten Schriftzitat (Ez 37,11 LXX) wird eine neue Geschichte gebildet.124 Der Tod des Propheten ist aus der deuteronomistischen „Doktrin“ vom gewaltsamen Geschick der Propheten entwickelt.125 Die Überzeugung, dass die Propheten Israels den Martertod erlitten um ihres Zeugnisses für Christus willen, die schon in der Ascensio Jesaiae und dem christlichen Schluss der Paralipomena Jeremiae126 erscheint, spielt in den Vit Proph überhaupt keine Rolle. III.4 Die Hosea Vita Hosea führt die Liste der zwölf Kleinen Propheten an. Seine Herkunftsnotiz habe ich oben schon erwähnt.127 Er ist Priester und gebürtig aus Jibleam, das in frühjüdischer Zeit in Samaria lag. Für ihn wird angeführt: 119

In Jub 1,11–12 wird dieser Vorwurf gegen das ganze Volk erhoben: „Und sie machen sich hohe Plätze, Haine, Götterbilder. Und sie beten sie an, ein jeder sein eigenes, zu Irrtum hin … 12 Und ich werde senden zu ihnen Zeugen, damit ich gegen sie zeuge, aber sie hören nicht, sie werden die Zeugen töten. Und auch die, die das Gesetz suchen, werden sie verfolgen“. 120 Vgl. James A. Kelhoffer, Miracle and Mission. The Authentication of Missionaries and Their Message in the Longer Ending of Mark (WUNT 112; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2000) 397–398 weist darauf hin, dass das Strafwunder des Ezechiel seine Entsprechung in Ex 9,1–7; 12,29–32; Num 21,4–9 hat, aber: „In the three judgments of the Pentateuch, then, the Lord exerts control over the punishment“. In den Vit Proph dagegen: „Ezechiel himself initiates the imprecatory wonder“. Er hat also größere Autorität als Mose. Seine Macht über die Schlangen entspricht der Jeremias. 121 Der Kultbetrieb blieb vom 10. Jh. v. – 4. Jh. n.Chr. intakt; ausführlicher dazu Schwemer, Studien I, 293–294; dies., Vitae, 594 Anm. 17a. 122 In der christlichen Legendenbildung kommt der Antichrist aus dem Stamm Dan; der Verräter Judas Ischariot stammt von Dan oder Gad ab; siehe Schwemer, Studien I, 294. 123 Vgl. Test Ass 7,6–7. 124 Vgl. oben Anm. 14 und 15. Ausführlicher Schwemer, Studien I, 283–284. 125 Vgl. Jub 1,11–12; dazu Schwemer, Studien I, 294. 126 Asc Jes 5,1.11.13; 11,41; Par Jer 9,19(21). 127 Siehe oben Anm. 25.

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5,2 Und er gab ein Zeichen, dass der Herr auf die Erde kommen werde, wenn die Eiche in Silom sich von selbst teilt und zwölf Eichen entstehen.128

Das Prodigium wird – wie auch sonst oft in den Vit Proph – mit ἔδωκε τέρας eingeleitet.129 Das Kommen Gottes, des κύριος, wird in der Jeremia-Vita am Sinai erwartet. Hier geht es nicht um den Ort, sondern um den Zeitpunkt, den die Eiche ankündigt. Die christlichen Fortschreibungen, die nur in einem Teil der Handschriften auftauchen, können hier problemlos das Vorzeichen für das Kommen Christi – beziehungsweise seiner Parusie – und für seine zwölf Jünger erkennen.130 Die Angabe des Vorzeichens ist jedoch im Ursprung jüdisch und nur so als Schriftauslegung verständlich. Die Erwartung des endzeitlichen Kommens Gottes zum Gericht gehörte zu den apokalyptischen Grundkonzeptionen im frühen Judentum.131 Die „Eiche in Silo“ ist der heilige Baum, unter dem einst Josua einen Stein als Zeugen errichtet hatte, als er das Volk versammelte zu Bundesschluss und Bundesverpflichtung (Jos 24,26–27). Im MT (Jos 24,1.25) stand dieser Baum in Sichem. Schon die LXX bezeugt, dass dieser Bundesschluss mit antisamaritanischer Tendenz in das judäische Silo verlegt wurde. Der Übersetzer des Hoseabuches, der wohl zu Beginn des 2. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. in Ägypten lebte, war bei Ortsnamen oft nachlässig,132 in diesem Fall beruht die Änderung aber auf Absicht. Judäer und Samaritaner vertrugen sich auch in der ägyptischen Diaspora nicht. Es kam sogar zu blutigen Auseinandersetzungen zwischen ihnen in dieser Zeit.133 Aber die Lokalisierung des „Landtags von Sichem“ in Silo ist auch in einer ursprünglich hebräisch abgefassten Schrift aus Palästina belegt.134

128

Dazu Schwemer, Studien II, 1–19; dies., Vitae, 610–611; dies., Lives of the prophets, 417–419. 129 Oder: τέρας ἔδωκεν; zu dieser eigenartigen Formel in den Vit Proph siehe Schwemer, Studien I, 82–87. Sie ist 1Kön 13,3,5 (LXX) entnommen und erscheint außerdem in Vit Proph 3,3; 4,21; 10,8; 11,2; 12,10 bevorzugt für die Angabe von Prodigien über die Endzeit. Vgl. auch oben Anm. 115. 130 Siehe Schwemer, Studien II, 15 Anm. 91. 131 1 Hen 1,3–9; Vit Proph 2,10, dazu Schwemer, Vitae, 580 Anm. 10a–c. eadem, Studien II, 382 Index s.v. „Endgericht“ und „Gott – endzeitliches Kommen Gottes“. 132 J. Cornelis de Vos, „Das Land Israel in der Sicht der Septuaginta: Beispiele aus Exodus, Josua und Jesaja“, in: Die Septuaginta und das frühe Christentum. The Septuagint and Christian Origins. Edited by Thomas S. Caulley and Hermann Lichtenberger (WUNT 277; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011) 95–96. 133 Josephus, Ant. 12,10; 13,74–79; dazu Hengel und Schwemer, Jesus und das Judentum 145–146. 134 Lib Ant 23,1: Congregamini ante conspectum arce testamenti Domini in Sylo.

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Heilige Bäume haben, wie schon erwähnt, in den Vit Proph eine besondere Bedeutung als Grabbäume. In diesem Fall zeigt der Baum in Silo das Kommen Gottes zum Gericht an, das Josua in Jos 24 allen abtrünnigen Gesetzesübertretern angekündigt hatte.135 Denn wie die Septuaginta versteht die Vita die Funktion des Steines, den Josua unter der Eiche aufgestellt hat, eschatologisch, er wird den Israeliten „am Ende der Tage ein Zeugnis sein, immer dann, wenn ihr den Herrn, meinen Gott, betrügt“.136 Am Prophetenbuch Hosea hat das Baumprodigium einen gewissen Anhalt im Schlusskapitel, wo zwar nicht von der „Eiche von Silo“ die Rede ist, aber Israel auf verschiedene Weise mit einem Baum verglichen wird, dessen Wurzeln sich ausbreiten werden und dessen Zweige wachsen werden, so dass die Israeliten zurückkehren und in seinem Schatten sitzen werden.137 Häufig belegt sind Baumprodigien, die das Kommen von Göttern oder Herrschern ankündigen.138 Das Motiv des Gerichts über Samaria wird in der LXX- Übersetzung des Josuabuches aufgenommen mit der Verlegung des „Landtags zu Sichem“ nach Silo und der Übersetzung im Hoseabuch von „Samaria muss büßen“ durch „Samaria wird vernichtet werden.“139 Die Botschaft Hoseas, des Propheten des Nordreichs, richtet sich in besonderer Weise an dessen Stämme. So kündigt Hos 7,8 an: „Ephraim mengt sich unter die Völker“ und LXX übersetzt: „Ephraim, unter die Völker hat es sich selbst gemischt“, das heißt die Nordstämme sind durch Heiraten in den Völkern aufgegangen und in der Gefahr zu verschwinden. Hos 8,8: „Verschlungen ist Israel, jetzt sind sie unter den Völkern“ bezieht sich auf die Zerstreuung der zehn Nordstämme, aber Hosea prophezeit auch ihre Rückkehr.140 Die Hoffnung, daß diese verlorenen Stämme wieder auftauchen in der Endzeit, läßt sich in frühjüdischen Texten öfter feststellen. In den Vit Proph verbindet sich diese mit der Erwartung des Kommens Gottes zum Endgericht. So überwiegt dann doch die Heilserwartung die Gerichtsdrohung in der Hosea-Vita. Denn die Zwölfzahl, in die sich die Eiche teilt, ist ein Prodigium für die Restitution des Zwölfstämmevolkes. Die Hoffnung auf dessen Wie135

Jos 24,27 LXX; das „Ende der Tage“ ist ein Zusatz gegenüber MT. Kursivierung wie in Septuaginta Deutsch. 137 Hos 14,6–8 LXX; vgl. 14,2. 138 Schwemer, Vitae, 611 (mit zahlreichen Belegen); sie finden sich schon in der altorientalischen Omenkunde, aber besonders häufig in der römischen Literatur. Im AT haben diese Bäume oft orakelgebende Funktion. 139 Hos 14,1. 140 Das Motivwort šūb in Hos wird in der LXX dreizehnmal mit ἐπιστρέφω wiedergegeben, das in den Vit Proph der Terminus für die Rückkehr aus der Diaspora ist. Vgl. auch LXX: Hos 11,9: „Ephraim will ich nicht verlassen“; 11,11: „Dann will ich sie zurückführen zu ihren Häusern“; 14,2–9; „Ephraim“ wird im antiken Judentum als die zehn verlorenen Stämme gedeutet; siehe Joel Marcus, „The Twelve Tribes in the Diaspora (James 1.1)“, NTS 60 (2014) 439. 136

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derherstellung verband sich in besonderer Weise mit den Propheten des Zwölfprophetenbuches. Heißt es doch in Sir 49,10 LXX über diese Zwölf: ... mögen ihre Gebeine aufblühen aus ihrem [Grabes]ort, denn sie haben Jakob getröstet und haben sie losgekauft durch den Glauben der Hoffnung.

„Jakob“ steht hier für das Zwölfstämmevolk und der „Loskauf“ doch wohl für dessen Rückführung und Sammlung. Die Vit Proph diskutieren – abgesehen von der sogenannten Pseudo-Dorotheus-Rezension – die Bezüge der Propheten des Zwölfprophetenbuches untereinander in der Regel nicht. Doch Hosea, der erste und älteste von ihnen, weist mit seinem Prodigium an der Eiche von Silo auf den Beginn des Schriftkorpus Nebiim mit dem Buch Josua hin. Dem entspricht auf der anderen Seite der letzte Prophet der Zwölf, Maleachi, dessen Vita die Verbindung mit dem Richterbuch expressis verbis herstellt. Auch dies erinnert an Jesus Sirach, wo der Wunsch für die zwölf Kleinen Propheten dem für die Richter wörtlich entspricht (46,12 LXX): ... mögen ihre Gebeine aufblühen aus ihrem [Grabes]ort.

Die Nähe der Vit Proph zum Enkomium ben Sirachs auf die Väter wird hier besonders deutlich. III.5 Die Vita Sacharjas ben Jojada Diese Sacharja-Vita gehört in die weitverzweigte und vielfach abgewandelte Überlieferung vom gewaltsamen Tod des Propheten Sacharja im Tempel.141 Die Vita steht am Ende der Sammlung der Vit Proph, weil die Chronikbücher den Schluss des damaligen Kanons bildeten, wie im halachischen Brief aus Qumran angedeutet und in Lk 11,51 vorausgesetzt wird.142 Sacharja wird expressis verbis als Jerusalemer bezeichnet wie Jesaja am Anfang. Durch diese inclusio kann man sicher sein, dass es sich um die ursprünglich intendierte Anordnung handelt. 23,1 Zacharias (war) aus Jerusalem, der Sohn Jodaës des Priesters. Ihn tötete Joas, der König von Juda, in der Nähe des Altars, und es vergoß sein Blut das Haus David mitten vor dem Ailam. Und es nahmen ihn die Priester und begruben ihn bei seinem Vater. 2 Seitdem ereigneten sich Vorzeichen von erschreckendem Eindruck (τέρατα φαντασίας) im Tempel. Und die Priester konnten nicht (mehr) die Erscheinung von Engeln Gottes sehen, weder Orakel geben aus dem Debir, noch mit dem Ephod befragen, noch durch die Orakelsteine dem Volk antworten wie in früherer (Zeit).

141 Vgl. Kalmin, Migrating Tales 130–163, der jedoch auch hier auf eine Untersuchung der Vit Proph verzichtet, weil er sie für spät hält (154). 142 4QMMT C 11 (Elisha Qimron/John Strugnell …, Qumran Cave 4, V, Miqṣat Maʿaśe ha-Torah [DJD X; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994] 88–89); die Lesung ist aber nicht sicher. Zu Lk 11,51 siehe Michael Wolter, Das Lukasevangelium (HNT 3; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008) 436.

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Die Vit Proph unterscheiden klar zwischen dem Propheten dieses Namens im Zwölfprophetenbuch und dem Propheten, der in 2 Chr 24 erwähnt wird.143 Der Vatername dieses Sacharja ist in unserem ältesten Zeugen Vat. gr. 2125, dem Marchalianus, völlig identisch mit dem Namen in LXX ᾿Ιωδαε angegeben, um sicherzustellen, um welchen der vielen priesterlichen Personen mit dem Namen Sacharja/Zacharias/Asarja144 es sich handelt. In 2 Chr 24,20–22 hält dieser eine Gerichtsrede gegen den Götzendienst des Volkes und wird auf Befehl des Königs Joas im Tempelvorhof gesteinigt. Sein letztes Wort lautet: „Möge der Herr es sehen und bestrafen.“ Nach einem Jahr besiegt ein syrisches Heer, das in Jerusalem eindringt, Joas. Anschließend bringen ihn seine Knechte um wegen der „Blutschuld am Sohn des Priesters Jodae“ (V. 23–25a).145 Warum behauptet nun unsere Vita, dass die Blutschuld weiter auf dem Haus David ruht?146 Sie deutet die Blutschuld theologisch, oder besser haggadisch, und zwar kollektiv, denn: das Ungeheuerliche an der erstmaligen blutigen Tempelschändung [liegt] nicht allein in der Tat selber …, sondern auch am Täter: dem Haus David … Es ist auffällig und zeugt vom programmatischen Charakter dieses Hinweises, daß die Schuld ausdrücklich nicht auf Joas als dem verantwortlichen Täter beschränkt bleibt, sondern kollektiv gefaßt wird. Die Schuld des Hauses David erscheint schicksalhaft für den Tempel.147

Noch kühner, universalistisch und apokalyptisch deutet das Jesuslogion in Lk 11,50–51 diese Blutschuld: Darum hat auch die Weisheit Gottes gesagt: … dass das Blut aller Propheten, das seit Grundlegung der Welt vergossen wurde, von dieser Generation gefordert wird – vom Blut Abels bis zum Blut Sacharjas, der zwischen dem Altar und dem Tempelhaus umkam. Ja, ich sage euch, dieses alles wird über diese Generation kommen.148

Die Vit Proph enthalten die traditionsgeschichtlich noch etwas ältere Deutung von 2 Chr 24,20–21, wenn sie die Schuld auf das Haus David beschränken.149 143

Nur die Rezension Ep2 entnimmt der Sacharja XII–Vita 5 Verse und stellt sie an den Anfang; siehe Schwemer, Studien II, Synopse 50*–51*.73*. 144 MT gibt den Namen mit Secharja an; LXX gibt ihn mit ᾿Αζαρίας in 2 Chr 24,20 wieder; Josephus, NT und Vit Proph schreiben Ζαχαρίας. Zu den Namensformen vgl. Schwemer, Studien II, 285–286. 145 Es ist möglich, dass diese Episode vom Chronisten zur Erklärung von König Joas schrecklichem Ende in einer Palastrevolte (2 Kön 12,21–22) nicht nur erzählt, sondern auch „erfunden“ wurde. 146 Das ist für Kalmin, Migrating Tales, 135–136 der Grund anzunehmen, dass die rabbinische Blutlegende letztlich auf die christliche Zacharias-Legende zurückgeht und nicht auf 2 Chr 24,20–21. Denn der Mord an Sacharja ben Jojada war ja gesühnt. 147 Mittmann-Richert, Einführung, 167. Sie betont ganz zu Recht, dass mit dieser Deutung das alte Verständnis von David- und Zionserwählung eine neue Aktualität erhält. 148 Vgl. Wolter, Lukasevangelium, 436 zur Identifikation mit Sacharja ben Jojada. 149 Dazu Schwemer, „Vitae Prophetarum und Neues Testament“, 215–216: Das Jesuslogion verknüpft Sacharjas Tod „mit der deuteronomistischen Vorstellung vom gewaltsamen

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Aber wie in der Sacharja ben Jojada-Vita wird der Ort, an der Sacharja ermordet wurde, beschrieben. Dadurch ist sicher, dass in Lk 11,50–51, Mt 23,35 und in den Vit Proph an denselben Propheten gedacht ist. Dieser Ort ist wohl aus Ez 8,16 erschlossen. Die Vit Proph zitieren diese Stelle nach LXX mit leichter Abwandlung. Ezechiel erblickte hier den äußersten Frevel im Jerusalemer Tempel: Zwanzig Männer, die dem Haus Gottes den Rücken zuwandten und die Sonne anbeteten.150 Die Nacherzählung von 2 Chr 24,20– 22 ergänzt, dass an diesem Ort ein weiterer schlimmer Frevel geschehen ist, nämlich der Mord an unserem Propheten. Um die Folgen für den Tempel und seinen Gottesdienst zu schildern wird noch einmal das Motivwort τέρας aufgenommen. Die Näherbestimmung τέρατα φαντασίας bezeichnet nun eine Reihe von schlimmen Vorzeichen. Durch den Mord an Sacharja verliert der Tempel seinen Transzendenzbezug. Das wird lebhaft erzählt: Die Gemeinschaft der Priester mit den Engeln geht verloren und das gesamte Orakelwesen versagt. Dieses düstere Bild entspringt der Situation in Judäa, wo seit der blutigen Eroberung des Tempels durch Pompeius im Jahr 63 v. Chr., als viele Priester beim Opferdienst getötet wurden, die Furcht präsent war, dass der Tempel zerstört wird „durch ein Volk aus dem Westen“, wie es in der Habakuk-Vita heißt.151 Der prachtvolle Tempelausbau durch Herodes I. beseitigte die Bedrohung in den Augen der Frommen nicht. Der Protest gegen den gottlosen König und seine Änderungen am Tempel, der Versuch, den Goldenen Adler – wohl als Angleichung an den Tempel des Jupiter Capitolinus und Herrschaftszeichen Roms verstanden – zu beseitigen, ist durch Josephus dokumentiert.152 In dieser historischen Situation ist es verständlich, dass die Vit Proph vor allem Traditionen sammeln, die die eschatologische Heilserwartung nicht mit dem Jerusalemer Tempel auf dem Zion und den Davididen verbinden, sondern mit dem Sinai. Die messianische Hoffnung fehlt nicht völlig, aber sie richtet sich auf einen kriegerischen Messias, der die Herrschaft der Ptolemäer beendet (siehe dazu oben). Die Kritik an der Jerusalemer Priesterschaft kommt noch deutlicher in der Vita des Propheten Sacharja aus dem Zwölfprophetenbuch zum Ausdruck Geschick der Propheten und Israel als Täter“. Diese Form der kollektiven Schuldzuweisung wird in der rabbinischen Tradition fortgeführt. 150 In Joel 2,17 ist es der Ort der großen Klagefeier; 1 Makk 7,36 klagt und weint die Priesterschaft vor dem Altar und vor dem Tempelhaus bei der Bedrohung des Tempels durch Nikanor; vgl. Schwemer, Studien II, 298. 151 Vit Proph 12,11. In der Jona-Vita erscheint als „Zeichen des Jona“, wenn ein Stein bitterlich schreit, kommt das Ende der Erde. Und wenn in Jerusalem alle Völker versammelt sind, wird die Stadt vernichtet (Vit Proph 10,8). 152 Josephus, Ant. 17,149–167; B. J. 1,648–654; vgl. Hengel, Zeloten, 185.217.321 u.ö.; vgl. auch Monika Bernett, Der Kaiserkult in Judäa unter den Herodiern und Römern (WUNT 203; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007) 168–170; zu den ständigen römischen Übergriffen vor der Zerstörung des Tempels im Jahr 70 vgl. Mittmann-Richert, Einführung, 159–160.

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und in der Versicherung, dass kein Priester am Ende der Zeit die Lade des Gesetzes öffnen wird, in der Jeremia-Vita. Die letzte Vita der Vit Proph mit ihrem pessimistischen Rück- und Ausblick wurde in der christlichen Überlieferung z.T. verbessert, denn er stimmte ja nicht mehr. Zacharias, der Vater Johannes des Täufers, hatte einen „Engel des Herrn“ im Tempel gesehen (Lk 1,11). Doch nicht nur in der ältesten Version, auch im Hauptstrang der Überlieferung der Vit Proph bleibt Sacharja ben Jojada der letzte Prophet in den Vit Proph.153 Er wird nur z. T. ersetzt durch Zacharias, den Vater des Täufers, und seine wohl aus älterer Sacharja ben Jojada-Haggadah sekundär gebildete Martyriumslegende.154 Diese ist schon im „Protevangelium des Jakobus“155, einer judenchristlichen Schrift aus der 2. Hälfte des 2. Jahrhunderts, und in der gnostischen „Geburt Mariens“156 belegt. Doch gerade darin, dass sich in den christlich tradierten Vit Proph, obwohl diese Verbesserung so nahe lag, der ursprüngliche jüdische Schluss erhalten hat, zeigt sich letztlich die Zuverlässigkeit der Überlieferung und, dass die Legenden in den Vit Proph zur frühjüdischen – und dann frühchristlichen – „Haggadah“ gehören.157 Das Schlusswort erinnert daran, dass es noch andere Propheten gab, über die dem Autor aber keine weiteren Angaben zur Verfügung stehen. Ihre Namen sind jedoch in den Namensbüchern Israels aufgeführt.

IV. Zusammenfassung und Ergebnis Die Sammlung der Vit Proph gewinnt ihre Darstellung über die Lebensdaten der Propheten, deren Wunder zu Lebzeiten und nach dem Tode, ebenso wie die eschatologischen Verheißungen und Gerichtsankündigungen aus den alttestamentlichen und frühjüdischen Schriften, die sie – bei aller Kürze im Einzelnen – haggadisch ergänzen und erweitern. Sie nehmen dazu Überliefe153 Dazu ausführlich Schwemer, Studien II, 294–295.299–300. Der Brief der „Märtyrer von Lyon“ aus dem Jahr 177 n.Chr. kennt schon das Martyrium des Vaters des Täufers (Euseb, Hist. Eccl. 5,1,9). 154 Zu den weiteren sekundären Anhängen siehe Schwemer, Studien II, 322–328. 155 Protev Jak, 23–24; dazu Silvia Peregrini, „Das Protevanglium des Jakobus“, in: Christoph Markschies/Jens Schröter (Hg.), Antike christliche Apokryphen in deutscher Übersetzung, I. Band: Evangelien und Verwandtes, Teilband 2 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012) 907, 928–929. 156 Epiphanius, haer. 26,12,1–4 (GCS NF 10/1, 290–291); dazu Christoph Markschies, „Die ‚Geburt Mariens‘“, in ders./Jens Schröter (Hrg.), Antike christliche Apokryphen in deutscher Übersetzung, I. Band: Evangelien und Verwandtes, Teilband 1 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012) 417–418. 157 Kalmin, Migrating Tales, 131–132 lehnt diese Herleitung ab. Er folgt ja bei der Datierung der Vit Proph David Satran.

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rungen auf, die durch typisch palästinische „kreative Historiographie“ und „kreative Philologie“ gewonnen wurden.158 Das theologische Ziel der Sammlung lässt sich an der Anordnung des Ganzen erkennen. Sie beginnen mit einem Jerusalemer Propheten und schließen mit einem. Der Schluss weist zurück auf den Anfang und die eschatologischen Verheißungen Jesajas, Jeremias, Ezechiels und all der anderen Propheten. Trotz des defekten Zustands des Jerusalemer Tempels und seiner Priesterschaft, die wie die Stadt Jerusalem in Gefahr sind, von den Römern vernichtet zu werden, gibt es Hoffnung für Israel in dieser und in der künftigen Welt. Die haggadische, erbauliche Botschaft der Vit Proph ist der Verweis auf die tragenden Säulen Israels: Gesetz und Propheten.

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Vgl. oben Anm. 67 zu Jitzḥaq Heinemanns Definition der Haggadah.

Aspects of Haggadah in Josephus Michael Avioz Scholars through the ages have tried to explore the meaning and etymology of the term Haggadah (or Aggada). Some explained it as all the non-legal materials found in rabbinic literature. It deals with theological and conceptual views of the Hebrew Bible narratives and includes a very broad range of literary forms: rewritten Bible, proverbs, parables, etc.1 The starting point of midrash aggada is the biblical verse, which is only the first stage of developing overarching ideas. Flavius Josephus is usually known as a historian and less as an interpreter. In the last two decades there has been a paradigm shift in this respect, and more scholars acknowledge the interpretive contribution of Josephus.2 His works are categorized as “rewritten Scripture,”3 where “substantial parts of the scriptural narrative are retold, using a mixture of expansion, abbreviation, omission, and the interweaving of biblical allusions and citations with the author’s own words.”4 When comparing the biblical record with Josephus’s retelling, one finds three types of changes: omissions, additions and rearrangements. Our focus in the following study will be on the additions that Josephus entered into his retelling of the biblical record, mainly in Ant. 1–11.5 Thackeray notes that Josephus has expanded this material by incorporating “a miscellaneous mass of traditional lore, forming a collection of first century 1 Menachem Hirshman and Tamar Kaddari, “Midrash Agadda,” in The Classic Rabbinic Literature of Israel Eretz Israel, ed. David Rosenthal et al. (2 vols.; Jerusalem: Yad Yitzhak Ben-Zvi, 2018) 2.512 (Hebrew). 2 Cf. the literature cited in Michael Avioz, Josephus’ Interpretation of the Books of Samuel (LSTS 86; London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2015). 3 Cf. the literature cited in Avioz, Josephus’ Interpretation. See more recently Susan E. Docherty, “Exegetical Methods in the New Testament and ‘Rewritten Bible’: A Comparative Analysis,” in Ancient Readers and Their Scriptures: Engaging the Hebrew Bible in Early Judaism and Christianity, ed. Garrick V. Allen and John Anthony Dunne (Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity 107; Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2019) 77–97. 4 Docherty, “Exegetical Methods” 79. 5 Citations from Josephus are based on L. H. Feldman, Flavius Josephus: Translation and Commentary, Volume 3: Judaean Antiquities, Books 1–4 (Leiden: Brill, 2000); Christopher T. Begg, Flavius Josephus: Translation and Commentary, Volume 4: Judean Antiquities, Books 5–7 (Leiden: Brill, 2004).

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Midrash of considerable value”6 together with material from Philo and a number of gentile authors. Yet, there are several differences between the rabbinic midrash and Josephus: while the midrash offers several interpretations, Josephus offers only one; while the midrash may relate the verses to contemporary issues of the Second Temple period and even later generations, Josephus uses additions mainly to solve exegetical problems, and only in the minority of cases to say something beyond the biblical scope.7 There are some additions that are Josephus’ own, where no rabbinic equivalent can be found. Some of these traditions can be found in the Second Temple literature, namely in Qumran, the Aramaic targums, Pseudepigrapha and Apocrypha. Other traditions may be unique to Josephus, and their source is not always clear to us. Rabbinic literature may be divided into four principal periods: the Tannaitic period, the early Amoraic period, the late Amoraic period, and the postAmoraic period.8 The relevant materials come of course from the Tannaitic era since it is the time during which Josephus lived.9 How does one locate the traditions that can be compared with Josephus? One of the most important works in this regard is Louis Ginzberg’s monumental work Legends of the Jews.10 Ginzberg collected numerous midrashim as well as other Jewish and Christian traditions and organized them chronologically according to that of the Bible. This work was criticized, since it tried to build a homogenous narrative from the various traditions on biblical narratives, weaving together ancient and late traditions and blurring the differences between them. Yet Ginzberg’s most important contribution lies in the notes located at the end of the fifth and sixth volumes, assembling references to many sources, including Josephus.

6 Josephus. Vol. 4: Jewish Antiquities: Books 1–4, trans. H. St. J. Thackeray (LCL; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1967) xii–xiii. 7 Cf. Louis H. Feldman, Josephus’s Interpretation of the Bible (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1998) 16–17. 8 Leib Moscovitz, Talmudic Reasoning: From Casuistics to Conceptualization (Texts and Studies in Ancient Judaism 89; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002). 9 That is no small issue, since in many of Feldman’s studies he compares Josephus with much later traditions, and the question is how they are relevant to Josephus studies. Whether these traditions were oral or written is a matter of debate among scholars. 10 Louis Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews (7 vols.; 1909–1938; 20032 in two volumes). I will refer to the 2003 edition. On Ginzberg’s work see Galit Hasan-Rokem and Ithamar Gruenwald (eds.), Louis Ginzberg’s Legends of the Jews: Ancient Jewish Folk Literature Reconsidered (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 2014). We may also mention here the Responsa Project of Bar-Ilan University. Yet this database does not sort the results as Ginzberg does chronologically or thematically.

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Another important work published ninety years ago is Salomo Rappaport’s book on the haggadah in Josephus.11 In this book he tried to show that Josephus did not invent haggadic materials, but rather followed pre-existing Second Temple traditions which he borrowed from the Aramaic targums. Rappaport cites hundreds of instances where Josephus parallels midrashic traditions. In fact, no similar book has ever appeared since.12 Rappaport’s work is the only one that systematically attempts to note Josephus’s divergences from the entire Hebrew Bible. He assumed that Josephus’s additions always parallel rabbinic tradition, even though he must admit13 that there are some additions not found in rabbinic or Apocryphal literature, and even though he adds14 that there are places (e.g., Ant. 10.106–107) where Josephus definitely shows his independence of rabbinic exegesis. In his criticism of Rappaport, Feldman15 writes that Rappaport fails to consider Josephus’s “decision whether or not to include rabbinic midrashim at any given point, may be due to a conscious appeal to his audience of Greekspeaking Jews and non-Jews.” This criticism is in itself problematical since it assumes that Josephus’s decision whether to include some traditions or not must be motivated by apologetic concerns. However, this assumption is not so clear-cut. Likewise, in contradistinction to later Jewish medieval commentaries, where one could speak of a deliberate incorporation of midrashim (especially in the case of Rashi16), this is far from proven when it comes to Josephus. While we know for certain that commentators like Rashi had at their disposal written copies of the midrashim, such an assumption is unproven when it comes to Josephus. All we can say is that Josephus may have had oral traditions of the midrashim in his mind. The problem with Rappaport’s project lies elsewhere. He blends together earlier midrashim with much later midrashim. See for instance his note on Ant. 1.155–156: 11

Salomo Rappaport, Agada und Exegese bei Flavius Josephus (Wien: Alexander Kohut Memorial Foundation, 1930). 12 The two volumes entitled Josephus and the Rabbis (ed. Tal Ilan, Vered Noam, in collaboration with Meir Ben Shahar, Daphne Baratz, Yael Fisch; Jerusalem: Yad Ben Zvi Press, 2017) focus on the parallels between the rabbinic sources and Josephus only, while the biblical material is ignored. See also Richard Kalmin, “Josephus and Rabbinic Literature,” in A Companion to Josephus (ed. Zuleika Rodgers and Honora Howell Chapman; Malden, MA: Wiley Blackwell, 2016) 293–304. 13 Rappaport, Agada und Exegese xxx. 14 Ibid., xxxiv. 15 Louis H. Feldman, Josephus and Modern Scholarship (1937–1980) (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1984) 104. 16 See, e.g. Avraham Grossman, “The School of Literal Jewish Exegesis in Northern France,” in Hebrew Bible/Old Testament, vol. 1, part 2 (V1 part 2), From the Beginnings to the Middle Ages (until 1300), ed. M. Saebo (Gӧttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2000) 321–371, esp. 334–336.

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Midr. Hagadol (ed. Schechter, S. 195). Ähnliche Ausführungen finden sich im Maasse Abraham (bei Jellinek I, 26; II, 118 f.); Vgl. Bechai (ed. Warschau, S. 57); Sepher Hajaschar (ed. Goldschmidt, S. 28). Vgl. auch Maimuni, Hilchot Akkum I, 3. Vgl. Philo de Abrahamo §70 (deutsch ed. Cohn, S. 111 f.) […] Vgl. die Schilderung in der Apokalypse Abrahams […].17

He brings together Philo, Midrash Haggadol and Sefer Hayashar, the Apocalypse of Abraham and late midrashim collected by Jellinek. Some of these sources are dated to the Second Temple period, while others to medieval times.18 Another point that needs to be addressed is the notion that there are no unique traditions in Josephus. In fact, Rappaport took the matter to the extreme by seeking for every addition of Josephus its counterpart in the midrash or in other Second Temple (or later) sources. This is certainly not the case, for example, when Josephus speaks of Abraham adopting Lot (Ant. 1.154), an unparalleled addition in Second Temple literature.19 More recently, James Kugel’s magnum opus Traditions of the Bible20 compiles Jewish and Christian traditions on the narratives of the Torah. While Ginzberg gathered the sources and tried to combine them into a continuous narrative, Kugel explains how the ancient sources (200 BCE to 150 CE) interpreted the Torah. In contrast with earlier monographs mentioned above, he also adds the materials from Qumran. He analyzes the works of Philo and Josephus, letters of the Apostle Paul, writings of the Apostolic Fathers and the rabbinic literature. This survey will not be complete without reference to one of the greatest Josephan scholars, the late Louis Feldman.21 In numerous studies he compared Josephus with many ancient traditions, both Jewish and non-Jewish. In his numerous studies of Josephus’ portrayals of biblical characters, Feldman began by summarizing the rabbinic midrashim and the views they expressed 17

Rappaport, Aggada 101, n. 80. On dating various aggadic midrashim, see Myron B. Lerner, “The Works of Aggadic Midrash and the Esther Midrashim,” in The Literature of the Sages. Second Part: Midrash and Targum, Liturgy, Poetry, Mysticism, Contracts, Inscriptions, Ancient Science, and the Languages of Rabbinic Literature, II (ed. Shmuel Safrai et al.; Assen: Royal Van Gorcum; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2006) 133–189. 19 The parallels that Rappaport brings refer only to Abraham’s fear that he will not have an heir, but none of them refers to the adoption. 20 James L. Kugel, The Traditions of the Bible (Cambridge, MA: Harvard, 1998). 21 Feldman, Josephus’s Interpretation; idem, Studies in Josephus’ Rewritten Bible (Leiden: Brill, 1998); idem, Judaism and Hellenism Reconsidered (Journal for the Study of Judaism Supplements 10; Leiden: Brill, 2006). See also idem, Josephus and Modern Scholarship (Berlin & New York: de Gruyter, 1984) 121–39 (bibliography and discussion on Josephus and the midrash). See esp. his “Josephus, Midrash in His Version of the Pentateuch,” in Encyclopedia of Midrash. Biblical Interpretation in Formative Judaism (3 vols.; ed. Jacob Neusner and Alan Avery-Peck; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2005) 1.316–333. 18

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in their negative or positive assessments. The purpose of this summary was to compare Josephus’ attitude towards the biblical characters with those reflected in rabbinic literature. However, this comparison was not operated properly. A precondition for comparison is that in the texts compared there are common elements. If there is no basis for the comparison, it is unnecessary, and each text can be understood independently. I shall now move on to give some examples where there is a close relationship between Josephus and the midrash.

I. Cain and Abel (Genesis 4) Josephus (Ant. 1.52) writes that Cain and Abel had sisters. Rappaport notes that this tradition appears already in Jub. 4:1, 8, 10. It is corroborated in several midrashim: ʼAvot de-R. Nathan A 1; b. Yebam. 62a; Gen. Rab. 22.4, 7; 61, 4 (see also Tg. Ps.-J. Gen 4:2; Pirqe R. El. 21). However, Cain does not have two sisters in all traditions. In Jub. 4:1 there is only one sister, ‫עון‬. This was rightly pointed out by Ginsberg.22 Kugel mentions the sources cited by Rappaport and adds Pseudo Philo, LAB 1:1. Kugel finds the difficulty in the biblical text: “We know that Adam and Eve had two sons, Cain and Abel, but the Bible tells us nothing about any daughters. If no daughters were born, how did the human race ever continue to propagate?”23 This shows that Josephus did not invent this detail, and also that there was a long tradition in both Jewish and Christian sources, of which Josephus was also a part. Kugel himself states at the beginning of his book: In many instances, therefore, Josephus’ retellings of biblical stories are most likely an amalgam of things he has learned from different sources – indeed, at times he himself may not always be aware that what he is telling is interpretation and not, or not necessarily, a straightforward duplication of the biblical text alone.24

Yet not in all cases can one find a wealth of Second Temple sources. Sometimes the source for the aggadic material may be Josephus himself. Josephus stresses Abel’s respect for justice (Ant. 1.53). Similarly, the aggada praises the righteousness of Abel (Tg. Ps.-J. Gen 4:8; Tanḥ. Balak 16).25 Feldman26 has noted the difference between the sources: while the rabbinic parallels speak of Abel in terms that would appeal to a traditional Jewish audience (zaddik), Josephus describes his virtues in terms comparable to the 22

Ginsberg, Legends 1.106, n. 17. In the older edition: 5.138, n. 17. Kugel, Traditions 148. 24 Ibid., 25. 25 See Rappaport, Agada 5, no. 22, and citations on 83, n. 28. He refers to Tanḥ. Balak 11, but it seems to be an erroneous reference. 26 Feldman, Studies 9, n. 21. 23

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cardinal virtues spoken of by Plato and Aristotle. A bigger problem lies in the fact that Tanḥuma according to some scholars dates to the ninth century CE.27 Josephus regarded Cain’s words in Gen 4:13 as an expression of repentance. Rappaport mentions in this regard Lev. Rab. 10:5 (155–156), Pirqe R. El. 21, and Targum Pseudo-Jonathan.28 Again, here Rappaport compares Josephus to Leviticus Rabbah, a midrash dated to the fifth century CE, as well as to other texts dated even later.29

II. The Abraham Narrative The biblical narrative of Abram-Abraham begins in Genesis 11 and ends in Genesis 25. Milikowski30 notes twenty-five additions with regard to Josephus’s retelling of Abraham. Among them are: Sarah as Haran’s daughter (Ant. 1.151, 154); narrating Abraham’s theological thoughts (Ant. 1.155– 156); the attack of the Chaldeans against Abraham (157);31 Abraham’s journey to Egypt to study the wisdom of the priests (161); Abraham teaches the Egyptians mathematics and astronomy (166–168); and Moriah as the place of the Akedah (226). Milikowski thinks that Josephus’ motive was purely exegetical. This is inaccurate, since in a small portion there is apologetics, especially in additions that do not solve an exegetical problem.32

27 Hermann Strack and Günter Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash, trans. Markus Bockmuehl (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1996) 332; he notes another dating of 400 CE or before. 28 Cf. Louis Ginzberg, Legends of the Jews 1.111; 5.140, n. 24; Michael Maher, Targum Pseudo-Jonathan: Genesis 34. 29 See Hayim Lapin, “The Rabbinic Era,” in The Cambridge Guide to Jewish History, Religion, and Culture, ed. J. R. Baskin and K. R. Seeskin (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010) 58–84. Hayward places Pseudo-Jonathan in the late fourth or early fifth centuries. See Robert Hayward, Targums and the Transmission of Scripture into Judaism and Christianity (Leiden: Brill, 2010). See also Martin McNamara, Targum and Testament Revisited: Aramaic Paraphrases of the Hebrew Bible (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2010), in the introduction. For a view that locates this targum in the 8–10th centuries, see Eduard M. Cook, “A New Perspective on the Language of Onqelos and Jonathan,” in The Aramaic Bible; Targums in Their Historical Context, ed. D. R. G. Beattie and M. J. McNamara (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1994) 142–56. 30 Chaim Milikowsky, Seder Olam: Critical Edition, Commentary and Introduction (2 vols.; Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi, 2013) 1.60 (Heb.). 31 See Geza Vermes, Scripture and Tradition in Judaism: Haggadic Studies (Leiden: Brill, 1983) 89. Vermes mentions in this regard Jub. 12:12–15. 32 See Michael Avioz, “Abraham in Josephus’ Writings,” in Abraham in Jewish and Early Christian Literature, ed. S. A. Adams and Z. Domoney-Lyttle (London: T&T Clark, 2019) 93–108.

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The Hebrew Bible does not indicate what Isaac’s age was when he was bound by his father (Genesis 22). Josephus (Ant. 1.227) is the only source which gives the age of 25 for Isaac during the Akedah. The Rabbis speak of 37 (Lam. Rab. Proem 24; Tanḥ. Vayera 23; Vayera 42, etc.33). Yet when it comes to the testimony of S. ‘Olam Rab. 1, Milikowski34 argues that the correct version is “twenty-six.” If Milikowski is indeed correct, then one can suppose that Josephus knew this tradition and perhaps preferred a round number (25). This can hardly be deemed a coincidence. Milikowsky35 argues that Josephus used some form of Seder Olam. According to Josephus, the Egyptian priests explained to Pharaoh the reason for the calamities that came on Egypt after taking Sarah (Ant. 1.164; Gen. 12:1–10). The biblical text is very short: Pharaoh summons Abram and bids him to leave the country with his wife; Abram answers nothing at all. Josephus adds a whole chapter on an alleged encounter between Abram and Egyptian sages. During this theological and scientific matters are discussed, Abram even instructing the Egyptians in mathematics and astronomy. “For before the coming of Abraham the Egyptians were ignorant of these sciences, which thus travelled from the Chaldeans into Egypt, whence they passed to the Greeks” (Ant. 1.168). There is no parallel in the midrash to this tradition, but there is a hint in the Genesis Apocryphon XIX: 24–27. There Abraham meets three Egyptian sages and they discuss philosophy and knowledge.36 In Ant. 1.151 Josephus identifies Yisca, daughter of Haran, with Sarah (Gen 11:29). This identification appears already in S. ‘Olam Rab. 21. Though Josephus does not mention the name Yisca, he does correlate Sarah with the daughter of Haran.37

III. Identifying Unnamed Characters The Rabbis tend to identify unnamed characters.38 They add that Iddo is the name of the man of God in 1 Kings 13 (Sipre Deut. 177; t. Ber. 10:9; b. Sanh. 29b). A similar tendency is found in Josephus’s writings. Josephus adds the 33

See the full list in Milikowski, Seder Olam 2.17. Milikowski, Seder Olam 1.15. 35 Chaim Milikowsky, “Josephus Between Rabbinic Culture and Hellenistic Historiography,” in Shem in the Tents of Japhet: Essays on the Encounter of Judaism and Hellenism, ed. James L. Kugel (Leiden: Brill, 2002) 159–200. 36 Daniel A. Machiela, The Dead Sea Genesis Apocryphon (STDJ 78; Leiden: Brill, 2009) 72. 37 Rappaport, Josephus 14. On p. 100, n. 77, Rappaport brings additional parallels, some of them from a very late era (e.g. Pseudo-Jonathan). 38 Isaak Heinemann, The Methods of the Aggadah (Hebrew; Jerusalem: Magnes Press/Hebrew University, 1949) 28. 34

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name Thermutis for Pharaoh’s daughter (Ant. 2.224).39 Jub. 47:5 refers to her as Tharmuth. Artapanus calls her Merris. The rabbis identified her with the “Bithiah the daughter of Pharaoh” referred to in 1 Chr 4:17, since that verse says that Bithiah was the mother of Miriam (the name of Moses’ sister).40 Josephus adds the name of the man who inspired the building of the Tower of Babel, Nimrod (Ant. 1.113). He also adds the name of the prophet who rebuked Ahab for releasing Ben-hadad, Michaiah (Ant. 8.389). Naaman (Ἀμαν) is the one who kills Ahab (Ant. 8.414). It appears also in midrash Midr. Pss. 78, 350 and Midr. Sam. 11, 80, in Tg. 2 Chr 18:33, and in Ephraem on 2 Kgs 6:1.41 If traditions appear first in Josephus and only later in other sources, one could claim that Josephus relied on an oral tradition, formulated later in writing by late sources.

IV. The Legend of Moses in Josephus Rajak devotes a comprehensive study to the legend on Moses in Josephus (Ant. 2.238–253).42 Josephus tells of Moses’ military expedition against the Ethiopians where Moses crushes the enemy army. Josephus has as his point of departure the biblical narrative of Moses’s Cushite wife. This addition appears in later works, namely, the Chronicle of Moses (Divrei HaYamim shel Mosheh), Sefer HaYashar, and Yalquṭ Shim‘oni (Exodus 2,168–169). In her opinion, this addition is not a midrash, since it does not analyze the text in order to illuminate obscurities, and it does not find the significance of events in the narrative. She concludes that talk and literature influenced one another, and therefore the relationship of one recorded legend to another is by no means as straightforward as scholars would like to believe [...] certainty about the mingling and travelling of traditions will often be impossible to achieve; but also to appreciate that, if we handle what survives with delicacy, it can yield valuable clues to aspects of ancient thought more pervasive, and in a way more fundamental, than those embodied in any formal literature.43

39

Feldman, Josephus’s Interpretation 381. Kugel, Traditions 528. 41 Ginzberg, Legends, 2.989, n. 43. Leeor Gottlieb dates Targum Chronicles to the tenth century. See his Targum Chronicles and Its Place Among the Late Targums (Supplement to Aramaic Studies 16; Leiden: Brill, 2020). 42 Tessa Rajak, “Moses in Ethiopia: Legend and Literature,” JJS 29 (1978) 111–122 (repr. in Rajak, The Jewish Dialogue with Greece and Rome: Studies in Cultural and Social Interaction [Leiden: Brill, 2001], 257–272). 43 The Jewish Dialogue 270–271. See further Lorena Miralles Maciá, “Judaizing a Gentile Biblical Character Through Fictive Biographical Reports: The Case of Bityah, Pharaoh’s Daughter, Moses’ Mother, According to Rabbinic Interpretations,” in Constanza Cordoni, 40

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Scholars debate whether this legend was originally Hellenistic or Palestinian.44 Feldman45 finds several motivations for incorporating this legend into Josephus’s rewriting of the Bible: it shows how much the Egyptians owed to Moses who saved them; it shows that the Jews are not cowards; it helps the reader understand what made Moses a military leader; and finally it adds romanticism to the Moses story.

V. Omissions in Josephus and the Rabbinic Literature Feldman46 notes that Josephus is in accord with the Mishnah (Meg. 4:10) in omitting the incident of Reuben and Bilhah (Genesis 35), the second account of the Golden Calf (Exod 32:1–20), and the blessing of the priests (Numbers 6), though he does not omit the incidents of David and Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11–12) and Amnon and Tamar (2 Samuel 13). The Rabbis (Feldman, ibid.) declare that the incident of Judah and Tamar (Genesis 38) and the first account of the Golden Calf (Exod 32:1–20) are both read and translated, whereas Josephus omits both. In the Gemara on the above passages, the Rabbis add to the list of passages that are to be read and translated the account of creation (Genesis 1), the story of Lot and his daughters (Gen 19:31–38), the curses and blessings promised to Israel (Leviticus 26 and Deuteronomy 27), the story of the concubine in Gibeah (Judges 19–20), and the rest of the incident of Amnon and Tamar (2 Sam 13:2–22) (b. Meg. 25a– b). From this we can see that the Rabbis did take the liberty to omit the translation or even the very reading of certain passages. From the comments of the Gemara on the list we can also readily deduce that there were disputes among the Rabbis as to how to deal with specific passages. Here, too, Josephus and the Rabbis appear to be drawing upon a common tradition.

Gerhard Langer (eds.), Narratology, Hermeneutics, and Midrash; Jewish, Christian, and Muslim Narratives from the Late Antiquity Through to Modern Times (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht Unipress; Vienna: Vienna University Press, 2014) 145–175; Robert A. Kraft, “Moses and Ethiopia: Old Scripturesque Traditions Behind Josephus Ant. 2.238–253,” in The Embroidered Bible: Studies in Biblical Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha in Honour of Michael E. Stone, ed. Lorenzo DiTommaso et al. (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2018) 602–616. 44 See the review of Karen Winslow, “Mixed Marriage in Torah Narratives,” and idem, “Moses’ Cushite Marriage: Torah, Artapanus, and Josephus,” in Mixed Marriages, Intermarriage and Group Identity in the Second Temple Period, ed. Christian Frevel (Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies 547; New York: T & T Clark International, 2011) 280– 302, esp. 288–291. 45 Feldman, Josephus’s Interpretation 402–406. 46 Idem, 72.

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However, there are a few problems with Feldman’s note. Henshke47 pointed out that there are many textual variants of the sources mentioned by Feldman, and in fact the Mishnah allowed the story of Reuben and Bilha to be recited. Likewise, the purpose of the “prohibited passages” varies. While the omission of the Golden Calf narrative helps in defending Israel’s ancestors, the purpose of omitting the story of Lot and his daughters, the concubine in Judges 19–21, and Absalom and Amnon, does not affect our attitude toward the nations’ ancestors. Finally, the idolatry of Judah in Genesis 38 was committed inadvertently. It seems that though there is some resemblance, Josephus and the rabbis omitted these passages for various reasons, and one cannot deduce any connection between them from this partial resemblance.

VI. Oral or Written Sources There has been much debate as to whether Josephus depended primarily upon written or oral sources for midrash-like traditions.48 Schalit49 believes that details which involve exposition of specific verses derive from oral traditions, since this is the midrashic style as it was eventually recorded, whereas longer traditions, such as the account of Moses’ campaign against the Ethiopians, are taken from written sources. Rappaport, on the other hand, believes that Josephus was dependent upon written sources exclusively.50 Feldman51 writes that the fact that there are numerous details which Josephus shares with his presumed contemporary, Pseudo Philo, point to a common source. It is possible that Josephus did have access to written midrashic sources akin to the Genesis Apocryphon, despite the fact that most Scriptural

47 David Henshke, “What Should Be Omitted in the Reading of the Bible? Forbidden Verses and Translations,” in Kenishta: Studies of the Synagogue World, 1 (Ramat-Gan: Bar Ilan University Press, 2001) 13–42 (Hebrew). 48 See Louis H. Feldman, “Torah and Greek Culture in Josephus,” The Torah U-Madda Journal 7 (1997) 41–87. 49 Abraham Schalit, Flavius Josephus, Jewish Antiquities, Translation, Introduction and Notes (3 vols.; Jerusalem: Bialik, 1944) 1. XXXVI. 50 For a critique of Rapaport, see Geza Vermes, “La figure de Moïse au tournant des deux Testaments,” Moise, l’homme de l’Alliance, ed. H. Cazelles, et al. (Paris: Desclée, 1955) 63– 92. 51 Louis H. Feldman, “Use, Authority, and Exegesis of Mikra in the Writings of Josephus,” in Mikra: Text, Translation, Reading, and Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity, ed. Martin J. Mulder (Compendia Rerum Iudaicarum ad Novum Testamentum 2.1; Assen/Philadephia: Van Gorcum/Fortress Press, 1988) 455–518.

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exegesis, whether in targumim, sermons or academies, in Josephus’s day was still oral in nature. The important point to be discerned is Josephus’s choice of certain midrashic details, from whatever source, and his reasons for such a choice. Despite Josephus’s statement that the Jews, unlike the Greeks, do not possess myriads of inconsistent books (C. Ap. 1.38), the fact is that the oral tradition does possess numerous varying interpretations of, and additions to, the biblical stories. A clue to support the view that Josephus was aware of and relied upon oral tradition (cf. b. Ber. 10a, y. Sanh. 10:2, 28b) in his revision of the biblical narrative may be seen in his awareness that King Hezekiah was childless at the time his sickness befell him (Ant. 10.25–27). Feldman notes that in his comments about Jehoiachin, Josephus seems to change the biblical text completely, so that instead of characterizing Jehoiachin, as does the Bible, as one who had done what was evil in the sight of the Lord (2 Kgs 24:9, 2 Chr 36:9), he is described as being kind and just (Ant. 10.100). Remarkably, the rabbinic tradition has only complimentary statements and not a single negative remark about him (e.g., Lev. Rab. 19.6). However, Leviticus Rabbah is dated to the fifth century CE,52 many years after Josephus, and thus the value of such testimony is doubted. Feldman53 mentions the case of Jehoash (Joash), the king of Israel, in this regard as well. In Kings he is negatively evaluated: “he did what was evil in the sight of the Lord” (2 Kgs 13:11), and “he did not depart from all the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, which he made Israel to sin, but he walked in them.” Josephus evaluates this king in an opposite way, remarking that he was a good man and in no way like his father Jehoahaz in character (Ant. 9.178). Josephus, says Feldman, may have been acquainted with a rabbinic tradition that Jehoash was rewarded with victory over the Arameans because he had refused to listen to the accusations brought against the prophet Amos by Amaziah (S. Eli. Rab. 16.88). Again, Feldman refers to a very late midrash (dated to the tenth century CE),54 and it has no effect on our understanding of Josephus’s retelling of the biblical story. Moreover, what we have here is an example of the flaws inherent in Feldman’s studies of Josephus:55 he assumes that the biblical narrative has certain traits without using the tools of biblical research, and then he makes erroneous conclusions with regard to Josephus’s retelling of it. One should distinguish between the editorial formulas, which are part of the Book of Kings’ redaction, and the narrator. It is not the first case where there is an incon-

52

Moshe David Herr, “Midrash,” EncJud (2007) 14.182–185. Josephus’s Interpretation 71. 54 Strack and Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash 340–342. 55 See Avioz, Josephus’s Interpretation 8. 53

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sistency between the editors and the author in Kings.56 The editor evaluates kings according to a fixed set of values while the narrator enables a more complex viewpoint. The narrator views Joash/Jehoash positively due to the respect he has for the prophet and he defeats his enemies. Thus Josephus does not have to rely on a late rabbinic tradition. He is to be commended for grasping the general positive view of Joash in the biblical record. Feldman finds a similar hint that Josephus was acquainted with a tradition which we find later reduced to writing in the b. Talmud in connection with Zedekiah. According to the Bible, Zedekiah is clearly condemned for having done what was evil in the sight of the Lord (2 Kgs 24:10). On the other hand, the rabbinic tradition, while, to be sure, criticizing him for the egregious crime of swearing falsely to Nebuchadnezzar and not abiding by his oath (Pesiq. Rab. 26.129; b. Ned. 65a; Tanḥuma B Exodus 33), also cites him as an example of a leader who was virtuous, whereas his generation was not (b. ‘Arak. 17a). Josephus, like the rabbis, presents both sides of Zedekiah, on the one hand remarking that he was contemptuous of justice and duty (Ant. 10.103), and on the other hand mentioning his goodness and sense of justice (Ant. 10.120). Again, an incorrect and uncritical approach to the biblical record leads to an error in comprehending Josephus’s retelling. Zedekiah is portrayed mainly in Kings, Jeremiah, and Chronicles. Each book contains a certain characterization of this king. While he is portrayed negatively in Kings, the same cannot be said of the Book of Jeremiah. Josephus entered into his retelling a combined description of Zedekiah, and he identified with the somewhat positive portrayal of Zedekiah in the book of Jeremiah.57 The Rabbis instructed that in the synagogue the following are to be read but not translated: the incident of Reuben’s intercourse with his father’s concubine (Gen 35: 22), and the second account of the Golden Calf (Exod 32:21– 25) (m. Meg. 4:10). These narratives are also absent from Josephus’s writings. In conclusion of this part, one can see that Feldman is eager to find similarities between Josephus and the Rabbis where they do not necessarily exist.

56 See Michael Avioz, “The Book of Kings in Recent Research (Part I),” CBR 4.1 (2005) 11–44. This formula is used to evaluate nearly all of the northern kings and several of the southern kings. See e.g. 1 Kgs 15:2, 3, 25–26, 33–34; 16:23, 25, 29–30; 22:52–53; 2 Kgs 3:1– 2; 8:18–19; 8:25, 27; 13:1–2, 10–11. At least with regard to Jehu, again, his evaluation by the author contains positive elements. See Jonathan Miles Robker, The Jehu Revolution: A Royal Tradition of the Northern Kingdom and Its Ramifications (BZAW 435; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2012). 57 See Shelley L. Birdsong, The Last King(s) of Judah: Zedekiah and Sedekias in the Hebrew and Old Greek Versions of Jeremiah 37(44):1–40(47):6 (FAT 2.89; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2017).

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Only when there are unique similarities between Josephus and Tanaaitic sources do we stand on solid ground for arguing this.

VII. Conclusion Josephus’s writings do have connections with rabbinic midrash.58 However, we should be cautious in our conclusion regarding the links between the two types of sources and avoid using parallels between Josephus and late midrashim. Josephus could have been familiar with contemporary Tannaitic sources, but Amoraic sources are beyond his scope. Whether Josephus was relying on oral or rather written sources is a matter of debate. While we may have a general idea as to Josephus’s omissions, the case with additions is far from settled. We do not know what his criteria were for adding materials which do not appear in the Hebrew Bible. Possible motivations for entering additions may be apologetics, filling gaps (Abraham, Moses), or improving the biblical text.59 Yet since the additions cannot be anticipated, what remains unclear is how Josephus decided whether to make additions or not. Was it dependent upon the question of whether he had at his disposal such traditions, or is it accidental? This is a fascinating and important issue for ongoing scholarship.

58 Usually, scholars assume that the Rabbis were dependent upon Josephus; however, Noam argues that “the parallels between the Josephan and rabbinic stories stem from the use of a shared pool of traditions.” See Vered Noam, “Lost Historical Traditions: Between Josephus and the Rabbis,” Sybils, Scriptures, and Scrolls: John Collins at Seventy, ed. Joel Baden, Hindy Najman, and Eibert Tigchelaar (JSJSup. 175; Leiden: Brill, 2017) 2.991–1017, here 1015. 59 Feldman, Josephus’s Interpretation 163–170.

Josephus and Chronology According to Sabbatical and Jubilee Periods Daniel R. Schwartz I. Ιntroduction: On Haggadic Interest in Biblical Chronology One of the usual tasks of haggadah is to fill in the blanks of biblical stories. Of blanks there are many types; haggadists can ask about locations, identifications, motives, justifications, lessons to be learned, historical processes, and more. The present study will focus on one type of blank: chronological blanks. Questions about chronology (when did it happen? how old was … when it happened? how long went by between this and that?) have, as compared to other questions posed by haggadists, their own special characteristics, of which I shall mention four. First, chronological contradictions are unambiguous. If the numbers do not match, if there is even a small discrepancy between two chronological data supplied by the Bible, it is inescapably a frontal contradiction which demands attention and – given assumptions about the absence of self-contradiction in Sacred Scripture – resolution.1 The same is not the same regarding most other questions. Thus, for example, although readers might be bothered by the discrepancy between the portrayal of a character in two different narratives, they nonetheless know that people can be complex and also change over time, so the discrepancy, although it might encourage haggadists to offer their explanations, does not pose such a pressing challenge to belief in the truth of Sacred Scripture. Second, chronological data are like short blankets on a cold night: just as you cannot cover your head without exposing your toes to the cold, and vice versa, so too, answers to chronological questions are never of only local significance. Since time is a continuum, and the Bible tells a story that proceeds over time, any hypothesis or conclusion about the chronology of any biblical event necessarily has implications for (and is dependent upon) the chronology 1

Were it not for that assumption, contradictions would be the basis for source criticism. Cf. Steve Mason, “Contradiction or Counterpoint? Josephus and Historical Method,” Review of Rabbinic Judaism 6 (2003) 145–188, and my response: “Composition and Sources in Antiquities 18: The Case of Pontius Pilate,” in: Making History: Josephus and Historical Method, ed. Zuleika Rodgers (Supplements to the JSJ 110; Leiden: Brill, 2007) 125–146.

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of every other event. So while, for example, a question about Joseph’s motive for doing something can be answered this way or that way without affecting our answers for a question about why Moses later did something else, (and indeed there might be no need to assume any relationship between their actions,) any hypothesis or conclusion about the chronology of Joseph will necessarily impact upon that of Moses, if only with regard to how many years separate them. Third, work on chronology can be attractive because – precisely due to the aforementioned interrelationship of all chronology – extant chronological data often allow us to deduce other data with mathematical certainty. If, for an example that will be central below, the Bible states how many years Hezekiah reigned, and also tells us that when Hezekiah was sick, Isaiah prophesied that he would live another fifteen years, we can calculate with complete certainty in what year of his reign that prophecy was proclaimed. Fourth, and finally, note that chronology, which attaches simple numbers to complex stories, makes it easier to create links between different stories and to draw appropriate lessons. If, for example, Jacob left Isaac for twentytwo years and later Joseph was separated from Jacob for twenty-two years, the haggadist will be sure to infer that the latter was a tit-for-tat punishment for the former.2 For all these reasons, then, issues of biblical chronology have always attracted readers of the Bible. Indeed, there is ample evidence – in Hellenistic Jewish literature, apocryphal works, Qumran literature, rabbinic literature, and more – for ancient Jewish interest in establishing the chronology of biblical events. And while some ancient Jewish readers found it meaningful, in their contexts, to coordinate biblical chronology with Greek and Hellenistic chronology,3 other ancient Jews had other interests and preferred other systems. Here I will focus on the use of seven-year sabbatical periods, and, especially, of Jubilee periods composed of seven sabbatical periods, in keeping track of biblical chronology.

2

See b. Meg. 17a. Such connections are especially frequent, for – as Louis Ginzberg commented (Legends of the Jews 5.404) apropos of the rabbinic assertion that Moses lived forty years in Egypt, forty in Midian, and forty in the desert – “the Haggadah is extremely fond of symmetry.” In the context of the present study, see esp. Juda Bergmann, “Die runden und hyperbolischen Zahlen in der Agada,” MGWJ 82 (1938) 364–365 (on 7, 3.5, 70, and 77). 3 On Demetrius “the Chronograph,” who dated biblical events according to how many years they preceded Ptolemy IV, see Chaim Milikowsky, “Seder ‘Olam and Jewish Chronography in the Hellenistic and Roman Periods,” PAAJR 52 (1985) 131–134.

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II. Abraham Schalit on Jubilee-Based Chronology in Josephus’s Account of Biblical History Although there seems to be no evidence that the Jubilee year defined in Leviticus 25 was ever observed,4 as an idea and an ideal it was accorded great significance (see for example Isa 61:1–2 // Luke 4:18–19). It is, therefore, not surprising that there is a good bit of evidence for ancient Jewish use of Jubilee periods in discussions of chronology – whether past (as in the Book of Jubilees) or future (as in Daniel 9 [“seventy weeks (of years)” = ten Jubilee periods], and 11QMelchizedek).5 Our point of departure for the present study, however, is the somewhat surprising fact that Josephus, who was so much in need of chronological data for the biblical period and so obviously interested in the subject,6 seems never to use or even to reflect such usage.7 That is surprising not only because it was used by others, but also because it is such a convenient system, and one that so easily lends itself to schematization, that we might expect that at least some traditions or sources used by Josephus did employ such usage. So even if, perhaps due to considerations of expected readership, Josephus preferred not to use the system himself, “there is good reason to suppose that Josephus has made use of a number of chronographical sources and this is the cause of his internal contradictions,”8 and it would be surprising if none of those contradictions was created by the use of a source or sources that, as opposed to others, dated events by Jubilee periods. In a densely written twenty-page section of a German typescript that he was preparing for publication in the late 1970s, the late Professor Abraham Schalit (1898–1979) of the Hebrew University in Jerusalem pointed to a passage in Antiquities 11 that seems, as he argues in detail, to be part of a tradi4 See Robert North, S. J., The Sociology of the Biblical Jubilee (AnBib 4; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1954) 86–87, also James C. VanderKam, “Sabbatical Chronologies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature,” The Dead Sea Scrolls in Their Historical Context, ed. Timothy Lim (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 2000) 161. 5 See VanderKam, “Sabbatical Chronologies” 159–178, and John Sietze Bergsma, The Jubilee from Leviticus to Qumran: A History of Interpretation (VTSup 115; Leiden: Brill, 2007) 233–250 (“The Jubilee in Second Temple Literature”). 6 For Josephus’s interest in biblical chronology, see for example some passages not far from the one on which we will focus: Ant. 9.280; 10.147–148, 185, also – with reference to the period we shall discuss – Ant. 13.301 and 20.232–233. 7 Suffice it to say that there is no reference to Josephus in the two essays cited in n. 5, and that Louis H. Feldman, in the section on “Sabbatical Years and Jubilees” in his Josephus and Modern Scholarship (1937–1980) (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1984) 506–507, mentions Jubilees only once, in pointing to North’s conclusion (above, n. 4) that a review of Josephus’s evidence does not allow us to conclude that the Jubilee ever was or was not observed. Josephus refers to the laws of the Jubilee at Ant. 3.281–286 and 4.273, but without any chronographical usage or indication that it was observed. 8 Milikowsky, “Seder ‘Olam and Jewish Chronography” 135.

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tion known from rabbinic literature that defined the length of the First Temple period in terms of Jubilee periods.9 In what follows I will present Schalit’s argument, along with some minor refinements that appear to be warranted. Schalit, who is best known for his König Herodes (1969) but who also translated all of Josephus’s Antiquities into Hebrew, had a special affection for chronological issues. The complex argument on which I shall focus comes as a lengthy annotation to Ant. 11.5–6, in response to a fairly obvious selfcontradiction in Josephus’s chronology of the late First Temple period. Josephus states here that Isaiah prophesied the coming of Cyrus (Isa 44:28), who would return the exiles to Judea and rebuild the Temple, 210 years before Cyrus appeared on the stage: 140 years before the destruction of the First Temple, which preceded Cyrus’s appearance by another 70 years. While the latter datum, seventy years of exile, is prominently stated in the Bible (Jer 25:11–12 and 29:10; Zech 1:12 and 7:5; 2 Kgs 36:21) and by Josephus (including at Ant. 10.112, 184; 11.1–2), the former datum, about the date of Isaiah’s prophecy, is not stated in the Bible. Worse, it contradicts (as Schalit shows) Josephus’s own data elsewhere, which are all identical with the data supplied by the Bible. Namely, Josephus reports at Ant. 10.36, following the explicit testimony of 2 Kgs 18:2 // 2 Chr 29:1, that Hezekiah reigned for a total of twenty-nine years; and at 10.27 he reported, following 2 Kgs 20:6 // Isa 38:5, that when Hezekiah was sick, Isaiah prophesied that God would extend the king’s reign by fifteen years. Taken together, those statements indicate clearly that Isaiah’s prophecy came in the fourteenth year of Hezekiah’s reign. That conclusion can also be supported by the reference to Hezekiah’s fourteenth year not only at the outset of this story at Ant. 10.1, but also at Isa 36:1 (= 2 Kgs 18:13), where it is the last date in the narrative prior to Isaiah’s long prophecy that includes the reference to Cyrus. Indeed, the story in Isaiah 36 is part of a sequence that leads in short order to a visit by a Babylonian emissary “at that time” (39:1), while Hezekiah was still sick. Hezekiah’s cordial reception of 9 On Schalit, and on this 233-page typescript (which was rescued by Prof. Michael Tilly from a trash can in Mainz a quarter-century after Schalit’s death), which is a commentary on Ant. 11.1–108 that seems to be the only surviving fragment of Schalit’s German commentary on Antiquities 11–20, see my “Hellenism, Judaism, and Apologetic: Josephus’s Antiquities according to an Unpublished Commentary by Abraham Schalit,” Jewish Studies Internet Journal (forthcoming). The present discussion relates to pp. 20–39 of Schalit’s typescript, which is now in the Manuscript Division of the National Library of Israel (Jerusalem); it is also accessible online from within the Library. For a much earlier and briefer version of Schalit’s argument, see A. Shalit (sic), “Two Traditions Concerning the Time of Isaiah’s Prophecy on the Destruction of the Temple and the Return to Zion,” Yitzhak F. Baer Jubilee Volume, ed. S. W. Baron et al. (Jerusalem: Historical Society of Israel, 1960) 69–74 (in Hebrew).

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the emissary angered Isaiah, who responded with a prophecy of the Babylonian exile. That prophecy (39:5–7) is, however, seamlessly followed by a long prophecy of consolation, which promises that God would be reconciled with His people and restore Jerusalem, and it is in the course of that prophecy that we find the reference to Cyrus (44:28). Whatever modern critics think about a major break at Isaiah 40, where Second Isaiah begins, that was not at all a consideration for Josephus, and it thus follows that he dated Isaiah’s prophecy about Cyrus to Hezekiah’s fourteenth year.10 If, however, we add the last fifteen years of Hezekiah’s reign to Josephus’s data in the course of Antiquities 10 about the respective lengths of the reigns of Judah’s kings from Hezekiah to the destruction of the First Temple, we arrive at the conclusion that Isaiah prophesied 125.5 years before the destruction of the First Temple.11 That contradicts his statement at Ant. 11.6 that the interval was 140 years. Ralph Marcus, writing forty years before Schalit, and Paul Spilsbury and Chris Seeman, writing forty years after him, noted the problem and simply concluded that Josephus’s “140 years” is wrong;12 the latter suggest in their note ad loc. that Josephus perhaps forgot, in calculating the number 140, that 10 True, Chaim Milikowsky (Seder Olam: Critical Edition, Commentary, and Introduction [2 vols.; Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi Press, 2013] 1.40, n. 108 [in Hebrew]), responding to Schalit’s 1960 article cited at the end of the preceding footnote, protests that we need not assume that Josephus dated Isaiah’s prophecy about Cyrus to Hezekiah’s fourteenth year, for that date is given (Isa 36:1, implied for 39:1 too) with regard to Isaiah’s prophecy about Babylonia (39:5–7), and is not specifically linked to the prophecy in ch. 44. That is correct, but the reading of chs. 40–44 as a continuation of ch. 39 is natural. As another option, Milikowsky pointed to Isa 14:28, which refers to a prophecy by Isaiah in the year in which King Ahaz died. The year Ahaz died is the year Hezekiah became king, and moving the prophecy up from Isaiah’s fourteenth year (126 years before the destruction) to his first year would account for Josephus’s statement that the prophecy was made 140 years before the destruction. However, although it is possible that Josephus had Isa 14:28 in mind, note that the prophecy announced there makes no reference to the destruction of the Temple nor to Cyrus, and without the former, the latter would make no sense. Moreover, Josephus makes no reference to that prophecy, but he does refer explicitly to Isaiah’s prophecy in Hezekiah’s fourteenth year (Ant. 10.27, 36). Accordingly, the assumption (shared by Schalit and others [see n. 12]) that at Ant. 11.6 Josephus was referring to Isaiah’s fourteenth year, based on a reading of the biblical book in the order of its chapters, and based on the assumption that Josephus is alluding to something readers of his work will recognize, is not at all unreasonable. 11 See 2 Kgs 20:6; 21:1, 19; 22:1; 23:31, 36; 24:8, 18, followed by Josephus at Ant. 10.27, 36, 46, 47, 77, 83, 98 and 135. Josephus’s data total 125 years, six months, and twenty days, as is noted by Schalit, who provided a detailed table of the biblical and Josephan data at p. 21 of his typescript (and on the first page of the Hebrew article mentioned in n. 9). The Josephan data and the same sum are also provided by Paul Spilsbury and Chris Seeman, Flavius Josephus: Judean Antiquities 11: Translation and Commentary (Flavius Josephus: Translation and Commentary 6a; Leiden: Brill, 2016) 11, n. 31. 12 See Spilsbury and Seeman, ibid., and Ralph Marcus, Josephus: Jewish Antiquities, Books IX–XI (LCL; Cambridge, MA.: Harvard University Press, 1937) 316–317, n. a.

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the prophecy came fourteen years into Hezekiah’s reign, not at its outset. Schalit, however, was loath to give up so easily on Josephus’s statement. To some extent that was probably due to a certain conservatism, and also to Schalit’s love for Josephus. But the reason Schalit states is specific: he notes that both 140 and 70 are so round, and so obviously divisible by seven, that we should probably assume, at least as a working hypothesis, that Josephus did not calculate the datum from data about regnal years. Rather, Schalit hypothesizes that Josephus is following a chronological scheme that dated important events in Jewish history according to sabbatical and Jubilee periods. In support of his initial hypothesis that such a dating will have been applied by ancient Jews to the destruction of the Temple, Schalit points to 2 Chr 36:20–21, which claims to cite Jeremiah in explaining that Nebuchadnezzar’s destruction of the First Temple, and the concomitant exile of the Judeans, were a divine punishment “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.”13 This text, which is obviously related in some way to Lev 26:34–35,14 assumes, as Schalit explains, that the seventy years of the exile were meant to atone for 490 years of sinfulness, in which seventy sabbatical years were not properly observed.15 Passages such as these may be expected to have generated interest in dating the destruction of Jerusalem and its restoration on the basis of sabbatical periods. This all leads Schalit to ask a “Doppelfrage” (p. 24): (1) How did Josephus come to these numbers?, and (2) Are his numbers in fact correct, according to a system that dates biblical events according to sabbatical periods? Although such questions would lead many scholars today to look into priestly traditions of the type represented by Jubilees and Qumran (see n. 5), Schalit grew up in a day in which rabbinic literature was still the main corpus to compare to Josephus,16 the main corpus, indeed, it was the corpus scholars used when

13

Here and below, I use the 1985 NJPS translation of the Hebrew Bible. “Then shall the land make up for its sabbath years throughout the time that it is desolate and you are in the land of your enemies; then shall the land rest and make up for its sabbath years. Throughout the time that it is desolate, it shall observe the rest that it did not observe in your sabbath years while you were dwelling upon it.” 15 As he notes, the same type of logic is expressed at Num 14:34: forty years of punishment for forty days of sin. 16 And his frequently used guides are, correspondingly, Ginzberg’s Legends of the Jews and Salomo Rappaport, Agada und Exegese bei Flavius Josephus (Vienna: Alexander Kohut Memorial Foundation, 1930). For a review of what Josephus’s Jewish education might have looked like, one that reflects decades of post-Qumran awareness that priestly Judaism was different from rabbinic Judaism, see Michael Tuval, From Jerusalem Priest to Roman Jew: On Josephus and the Paradigms of Ancient Judaism (WUNT 2.357; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013) 115–128. 14

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attempting to imagine Josephus’s curriculum as a young student (Vita 8–9; B.J. 3.352; and C. Ap. 1.54). In this case, therefore, Schalit turned to the Babylonian Talmud’s discussion, at b. ‘Arak. 12a–b, of the date of the destruction of the First and Second Temples. That is quite a detailed discussion, one that is often allusive, telegraphic, or otherwise obscure, and Schalit takes his readers through it step by step. Here I will pick out the main elements of that text in order to present the way Schalit uses it, in turn in order to explain Josephus’s self-contradiction or, more precisely, in order to explain it away.

III. The Talmudic Dating of the Destruction of the First and Second Temples 1. The Talmud’s point of departure is a tradition attributed to R. Jose (a tanna of the second century), that states, inter alia, that both the First Temple and the Second Temple were destroyed “at the end of a sabbatical period” (moṣaei ševi‘it), that is, in the first year of the next sabbatical period.17 Below we shall term this the MDT (Main Dating Tradition). 2. Discussing first the destruction of the First Temple, the Talmud makes an objection on the basis of Ezekiel 40:1: “In the twenty-fifth year of our exile, the fourteenth year after the city had fallen, at the beginning of the year (be-roš ha-šanah), the tenth day of the month – on the very day – the hand of the Lord came upon me….” The Talmud takes the dating of the prophecy to both the beginning of the year and the tenth of the month very literally, and it infers that Ezekiel prophesied in a Jubilee year; for although normal years begin on the first of Tishri (or first of Nisan), Jubilee years begin, so one may infer from Lev 25:8–10, on the tenth of Tishri. The Talmud’s objection to the MDT is as follows: if the fourteenth year since the city was destroyed was a Jubilee year, counting backwards fourteen years from the fiftieth year leads us to date the destruction of the First Temple in the thirty-seventh year of the preceding Jubilee period. Since, however, the fifth sabbatical period of a Jubilee ends in its thirty-fifth year, the thirty-seventh year is one year too late to be the first year of the next sabbatical period. 3. The Talmud then quotes the attempt of Rabina (a Babylonian sage of the fourth-fifth century) to neutralize the objection. Namely, Rabina posits that Ezekiel – using what we might term “exclusive dating” – meant to date his 17 Although one might think that the Hebrew formulation could apply to late in the last year of a sabbatical period, the talmudic discussion here explicitly takes it to mean “the first of a ‘week,’” just as elsewhere too the formulation is clearly used of the first year of the new period. See, for example, m. Šeb. 4:2.

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prophecy to the fourteenth year after the year in which the city was destroyed, i.e., to the fifteenth year after the city was destroyed. That would solve the problem, but only by doing violence to what seems to be the plain sense of the verse.18 4. Indeed, the Talmud resists Rabina’s suggestion. But whether or not his opponents were upset about his highhanded rewriting of the verse, the rejoinder they offer is specific and somewhat complex: turning to indirect proof, they claim that Rabina’s suggestion entails an unacceptable consequence. They do this by focusing on another datum in Ezekiel’s dating of his prophecy, namely, his statement that the fourteenth year since the city was destroyed was the twenty-fifth year of his exile. That means that Ezekiel’s exile preceded the destruction of Jerusalem by (25 - 14 =) eleven years, a conclusion the Talmud proceeds to corroborate by citing a tannaitic tradition (baraita) that relates that Judeans were exiled in the seventh, eighth, eighteenth, and nineteenth years. That tradition, apparently means, as Schalit explains in detail, that there were two exiles by Nebuchadnezzar, of which each is dated by the Bible once according to one era and once according to another:19 the first exile, which included Ezekiel, came in Nebuchadnezzars’ eighth year, which was the seventh year after Nebuchadnezzar defeated Jehoiakim and conquered Jerusalem; the second exile, at the time of the destruction of the First Temple, came in Nebuchadnezzar’s nineteenth year, which was the eighteenth year after Nebuchadnezzar defeated Jehoiakim and conquered Jerusalem.

Whichever king’s regnal years are compared, it follows that there were eleven years between the first exile and the destruction, and that corroborates Ezek

18

Schalit at p. 26 of his typescript terms Rabina’s suggestion “halsbrecherisch.” It appears that what generated the baraita was the fact that Jer 52:28–29, which refers to exiles by Nebuchadnezzar and seems to claim completeness, refers to two: one in “the seventh year” and one “in Nebuchadnezzar’s eighteenth year.” The appearance of Nebuchadnezzar’s name only with regard to the second datum suggests that the first (“the seventh year”) is not counted according to that king’s reign, while the claim to completeness suggests that these exiles should correspond to those mentioned in 2 Kings – where the earlier one was dated to the eighth year of Nebuchadnezzar’s reign (2 Kgs 24:12 [“his reign” must refer to Nebuchadnezzar’s, for Jehoiachin reigned only a few months]) while the later one is dated to that king’s nineteenth year (2 Kgs 25:8). The author of the baraita apparently concluded from Jeremiah that there were only two exiles, and since it was easy to deduce from the data concerning the earlier one that Nebuchadnzzar’s eighth year was equivalent to the seventh year according to another era, he used that one-year difference to harmonize the data concerning the latter pair as well. But since that entailed the assumption that the other era was the same in both cases, it could not apply to Jehoiakim’s regnal years (as we would have expected), for Jehoiakim reigned only eleven years, so instead the era chosen was that of Nebuchadnezzar’s conquest of Jerusalem. Later, as we shall see in par. 6 below, the talmudic discussion will make that explicit. 19

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40:1. If, however, the Talmud now argues, Rabina would make Ezekiel’s prophecy one year later, moving it from the fourteenth year after the destruction to the fourteenth year after the year after the destruction, i.e., to the fifteenth year after the destruction, the total number of years from the exile until the prophecy would become (11 + 15 =) twenty-six, not twenty-five as is stated by Ezekiel. That is the Talmud’s objection to Rabina’s proposal. 5. Rabina, however, in a neat response, defends himself by claiming that that difficulty entailed by his system is no less of a problem for his critics, and they too need his move (ignoring the year of the destruction of the Temple) in order to maintain their position. Namely, once they expand the argument by referring as they did not only to the period from the destruction to Ezekiel’s prophecy, but also to the period beginning with Ezekiel’s exile, which they place in the seventh year, they lay themselves open to the following objection: If Ezekiel was exiled in the seventh year, but the Temple was destroyed in the nineteenth year,20 there were twelve years in between, and together with the fourteen after the destruction Ezekiel should have spoken, according to them, of twenty-six years. But Ezekiel spoke of twenty-five years. According to Rabina, his critics can deal with that objection only by adopting his own suggestion, namely, that the year of the destruction itself is not counted; and if they may hold that, he may too. 6. That argument is, apparently, accepted by the Talmud. But some touching up of Rabina’s view is still needed. That is because, so the Talmud now observes, placing the final exile and the destruction in the nineteenth year, as Rabina did, is a problem for him too; for even if we grant that the fourteen years after the destruction be counted from the year after the year of the destruction, there were twelve years from Ezekiel’s exile in the seventh year until the destruction in the nineteenth, and together with the next fourteen years that would make twenty-six. The Talmud gets around this by making explicit its original presumption, that in fact the final exile and the destruction came in the eighteenth year, not the nineteenth. The reference to the “nineteenth year,” they now explain, is only a figment of nomenclature, for it is counted according to Nebuchadnezzar’s regnal years, which began a year before he defeated Jehoiakim and conquered Jerusalem. Now, moreover, the Talmud bolsters that statement by citing a passage from Seder ‘Olam that specifically says that it was in the second year of his own reign in which Nebuchadnezzar defeated Jehoiakim.21

20

This presumes reasonably enough that the final exile, dated by the above-mentioned tradition to the nineteenth year, was concomitant with the destruction of the Temple. 21 S. ‘Olam Rab. 24 (ed. Ratner, 109; ed. Milikowsky, 301).

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This is the end of the first part of the talmudic discussion, at the very top of b. ‘Arak.12b. It concludes, as we see, with the rejection of objections to the MDT’s statement that the First Temple was destroyed in the first year of a sabbatical period. The Talmud does that by accepting, and defending, Rabina’s view that Ezek 40:1 counts post-destruction years only from the year after the year in which the Temple was destroyed. 7. Now the Talmud, turning to the Second Temple, immediately expresses doubt about the MDT’s assertion that that Temple too was destroyed in the first year of a sabbatical period. The doubt derives from a tradition, which the Talmud takes for granted here, that the Second Temple stood for a total of 420 years.22 Noting that 420 years are equivalent to eight Jubilee periods (of 50 years each) plus two sabbatical periods (of seven years each) plus six years, the Talmud infers that the Second Temple was destroyed in the sixth year of a sabbatical period, not, as the MDT would have it, in the first year of one.23 8. The Talmud neutralizes this objection by positing that the author of the MDT, who claimed that the Second Temple too was destroyed in the first year of a sabbatical period, must have agreed with R. Judah (a second-century tanna), who held that a Jubilee year is not outside the count of seven sabbatical periods; rather, the Jubilee year counts as the first year of the next sabbatical period. That means that for chronological purposes, Jubilee periods should be calculated as forty-nine years, not fifty. If so, eight Jubilee periods account for eight fewer years of the 420 than we first thought they did, and if we now add those eight years to the six that remained according to our first 22 This tradition, which is set out clearly in b. Yoma 9a (alongside 410 years for the First Temple, as in t. Zebaḥ.13:6), also appears in b. ‘Abod. Zar. 9a and S. ‘Olam Rab. 30 (ed. Ratner, 141–143; ed. Milikowsky, 323) with details about the breakdown of the 420 years during Persian, Hellenistic, Hasmonean, and Herodian rule. The number 420 evidently derives, as is reported explicitly in S. ‘Olam Rab. 28 (ed. Ratner, 130 [see ibid., n. 49]; ed. Milikowsky, 317), from an interpretation of “seven weeks (of years)” in Daniel 9:24 (or from the tradition on which Daniel drew), which is taken to mean that 490 years went by between the destruction of the First Temple and that of the Second; subtraction of seventy years of exile between the two shows that the Second Temple stood for 420 years. For the history of the interpretation of Dan 9:24’s “seventy weeks (of years),” see Milikowsky, Seder Olam 2.476–486. 23 Note that this inference is based on the premise that a new sabbatical period began in its first year with the construction of the Second Temple. That premise assumes either that a new start was made then, or that – since the First Temple was destroyed, according to the MDT, in the first year of a sabbatical period – the counting of sabbatical years simply resumed where it had been interrupted. There is no need to choose between those two options. For concern in the days of the Second Temple to underline its continuity with the First, cf. 2 Macc 1:19–36, along with Daniel R. Schwartz, 2 Maccabees (CEJL; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2008) 133–134.

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calculation, there are now fourteen leftover years. Since fourteen years fill two complete sabbatical periods, it follows that the entire 420-year period consists of a whole number of sabbatical periods, namely, sixty. Accordingly, if the Temple stood throughout sixty sabbatical periods and was destroyed right after them, that will have been in the first year of a sabbatical period, as the MDT claimed. 9. In the hope of finding consistency, the Talmud now attempts to apply R. Judah’s system of forty-nine year Jubilee periods to the MDT’s statement about the First Temple too – but finds that it cannot do so. That is because the talmudic discussion takes for granted another tradition, one that states that seventeen Jubilee periods went by from the Israelites’ entry into the Land in the days of Joshua and their exile at the time of the destruction of the First Temple. Those seventeen periods, if (as was the consensus of the rabbis, apart from R. Judah) calculated at fifty years each, totaled 850 years, and as the Talmud notes they were not counted from the actual time of entry into the Land of Israel (henceforth: the Land, as in the rabbinic discussions) in the days of Joshua, but only from the actual settlement of the Land, for only then did the Israelites begin to count and observe sabbatical and Jubilee periods.24 That settlement, and so the onset of counting, were presumed to have come, conveniently, precisely fourteen years after entering the Land (for conquering it and dividing it up were each supposed to have taken seven years), and that adjustment allows Ezekiel’s prophecy, fourteen years after the destruction, indeed to be at the beginning of a new Jubilee period.25 But – and this is the Talmud’s point – if we were to recalculate the seventeen Jubilee years at forty-nine years each, as R. Judah’s system requires, there would be (as a result of the move from fifty to forty-nine each) a remainder of seventeen years after the seventeen Jubilee periods, and they would fill two sabbatical periods and three more years – and the result would be that the First Temple was destroyed in the third year of a sabbatical period, not the first. Hence, the 24

The reason for this delay was the rabbinic presumption that sabbaticals (and Jubilees) should be observed only when a majority of the Land’s population is Jewish or, perhaps, when the majority of Jews, or of the tribes, are in the Land. This rule could be pinned exegetically to such verses as Lev 25:10, which can be taken to imply that if “all its inhabitants” are not in the Land then there is no Jubilee, or Lev 25:18, which can be taken to imply that if the Israelites do not live securely in the Land there is no Jubilee. See, inter alia, the discussion at b. ‘Arak. 32b. For the functioning of this same presumption in another context, see below at n. 27. 25 Probably, of course, we should assume that the process went the other way around: that it was Ezekiel’s reference to fourteen years that generated, once it became accepted that he was dating his prophecy to a Jubilee year, the need to assert that the counting of Jubilees was postponed for the first fourteen years after entry into the Land. Indeed, that is how the matter is presented in S. ‘Olam Rab. 11 (ed. Ratner, 48–49; ed. Milikowsky, 254–255).

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MDT’s dating of the destruction of the First Temple cannot be according to R. Judah’s system, although its dating of the destruction of the Second Temple is.26 10. At this point the Talmud finishes up its discussion quickly, offering two responses to the foregoing proof that, in contrast to the MDT’s statement concerning the Second Temple, its statement that the First Temple was destroyed in the first year of a sabbatical period could not be according to R. Judah’s way of counting Jubilee periods. a. One response is simple: it admits that, indeed, the MDT does not follow R. Judah’s system with regard to the First Temple. That is, we must resign ourselves, however uncomfortably, to accepting the notion that the MDT applies two different calculations of the Jubilee period: fifty years for the First Temple period and forty-nine for the Second. Obviously, this is not very satisfactory. b. The other response, which interests Schalit more, is the following: building on a tradition that appears elsewhere in the Talmud (b. Meg.14b), it presumes that with the Assyrian exile of the ten tribes in the days of Hezekiah the counting of sabbatical and Jubilee periods was suspended,27 and that it only resumed in the days of Josiah – an interruption that is said, on the basis of some biblical verses and some imagination, to have lasted from Hezekiah’s fourth year, when the Ten Tribes were exiled,28 until Josiah’s eighteenth when, according to this tradition, Jeremiah brought them, or at least a significant number of them, back to the Land.29 That period just happens to total one hundred years, as Schalit (pp. 36–37) shows: Hezekiah’s last 26 years, Menasseh’s 55, Amon’s 2, and Josiah’s first 17. If, then, we take the 850 years of the entire period from the entry into the Land until the Destruction, and (i) deduct the first fourteen years because, as noted above, it was only 26

This assumes, of course, that the MDT accepted the assumption that the full length of the period was seventeen Jubilees. The authors of the talmudic discussion had no reason to doubt that. 27 For the reason, see above, n. 24. 28 Actually, it is the beginning of the Assyrian siege of Samaria that is dated to Hezekiah’s fourth year in 2 Kgs 18:9; the exile came only after that three-year siege. The Talmud apparently assumes, on the basis of the consideration presented in n. 24, that the counting of sabbatical years ceased already during the siege. See Rashi’s commentary on b. ‘Arak. 12b, s.v. “those three years…”. 29 So b. ‘Arak. 33a and b. Meg. 14b. The latter text deduces the date from 2 Kgs 22:14, which reports that King Josiah, in the eighteenth year of his reign (v. 3), put a question to the prophetess Hulda; the Talmud infers that Jeremiah, a more senior prophet and therefore the more natural addressee, must have been away at the time.

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after conquest and division that the Israelites began to count sabbatical periods, and (ii) also deduct the hundred years in which the system was suspended, we come up with a total of 736 years in which sabbatical years were counted – and they are equivalent to 105 sabbatical periods plus one additional year. That additional year allows us to explain that, even according to R. Judah, the First Temple was destroyed in the first year of a sabbatical period.30

IV. From the Talmud back to Josephus: Schalit on Josephus’s Use of Jubilee-Based Chronology Now we have come to the point of the whole exercise, where Schalit wanted to go. Namely, he focuses on the talmudic assumption that a hundred years of the First Temple period went sabbatical-less, beginning with the fourth year of Hezekiah and until the eighteenth year of Josiah. While one might have thought it is merely an artificial response concocted for the sake of the academic argument, Schalit suggests instead that it is significantly older and underlies Josephus’s claim that Isaiah prophesied about Cyrus 140 years before the destruction of the Temple. Schalit proceeds as follows: a. If one takes Josephus’s data for the length of reigns of all the kings from Hezekiah to the destruction of the Temple, data that correspond to those in the Bible (see n. 11), we find that 136 years went by from Hezekiah’s fourth year until the destruction of the temple. b. Since the entire period from the beginning of the counting of sabbatical and Jubilee periods (fourteen years after entering the Land) until the destruction of the Temple is postulated to be (850 - 14 =) 836 years, it follows that a round (836 - 136 = ) 700 years went by from the beginning of that count until Hezekiah’s fourth year. That means in turn that 710 years went by from the entry into the Land until Hezekiah’s fourteenth year, which is when Isaiah made his prophecy according to the Bible and Josephus, as noted above. Thus we may conclude that Isaiah made his prophecy around (836 - 710 =) 126 30

This calculation, offered by Schalit, assumes not unreasonably that the order of sabbatical periods, when resumed after the century-long interruption, was taken up from the point where it had been interrupted. The same result would be reached, however, even if we were to assume a new sabbatical cycle began in Josiah’s eighteenth year. For since Josiah reigned a total of thirty-one years (2 Kgs 22:1), when one adds his last fourteen years to the reigns of Jehoiakim (eleven years – 2 Kgs 23:36), Jehoiachin (a negligible three months – 2 Kgs 24:8) and Zedekiah (in whose eleventh year the Temple was destroyed – 2 Kgs 25:2; Jer 1:3), the sum is thirty-six years – one more than five complete sabbatical periods.

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years before the destruction of the Temple – which is indeed the number of years that results from assembling Josephus’s scattered data, as we saw above, at n. 11. c. If, however, we assume the calculation posited in the last paragraph existed already in Josephus’s day, but also that it circulated not with regard to “700 years until Hezekiah’s fourth year” but rather with regard to “fourteen Jubilee periods until Hezekiah’s fourth year,” then, if we assume that Josephus (or the tradition he adopted here) followed R. Judah’s rule and calculated Jubilee periods at 49 years each (just as, for an important example, the Book of Jubilees does31), the result – as long as we do not change our assumptions about the total length of the period – will be that another fourteen years went by between the end of the fourteenth jubilee and the destruction of the Temple.32 d. If those fourteen years are added to the 126 reached in the preceding calculation (in b.), the result will be that Isaiah prophesied 140 years before the destruction of the Temple, just as Josephus says at Ant. 11.6. Q.E.D.33 As Schalit phrases his conclusion, we may understand the difference between Josephus’s two datings of Isaiah’s prophecy as deriving from two different systems: a chronographic system, which is based on regnal years of kings, resulting in 126; and a system that is based on sabbatical and Jubilee years, which arrives at 140. Schalit puts that very emphatically, insisting that they 31 Bergsma, “The Jubilee in Second Temple Literature” 236–237; Ernest Wiesenberg, “The Jubilee of Jubilees,” RevQ 3 (1961/62) 3–40; and Joseph M. Baumgarten, “The Calendars of the Book of Jubilees and the Temple Scroll,” VT 37 (1987) 73. They all hold that Jubilees considered the Jubilee year to be the first year of the first sabbatical period after the completion of every seventh sabbatical period. For another possibility, namely that the Jubilee year was considered to be the last year of every seventh sabbatical period, see Roger T. Beckwith, “The Significance of the Calendar for Interpreting Essene Chronology and Eschatology,” RevQ 10 (1979/81) 167. Insofar as our interest is only to document the view that Jubilee years did not interrupt the sabbatical cycle, this makes no difference. 32 For such difficulties that ensue when users of a chronological system take over, without adjustment, data created by others who use similar nomenclature but different standards, cf. Elias Bickermann, Der Gott der Makkabäer: Untersuchungen über Sinn und Ursprung der makkabäischen Erhebung (Berlin: Schocken, 1937) 156. 33 Here I will recall Milikowsky’s alternative suggestion (above, n. 10), that we add the same fourteen years by relocating the prophecy in Hezekiah’s first year. In dealing with the contradiction between 126 and 140, readers must in fact choose among (1) assuming Josephus was simply wrong; (2) identifying the prophecy as one that Josephus did not mention and which, in the Bible, does not mention Cyrus; or (3) Schalit’s explanation, which requires that we posit that some traditions that are known from later sources must have been around much earlier.

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do not contradict one another, for they are using two different systems.34 By that Schalit means simply that the two datings point to the same year (Hezekiah’s fourteenth); each is correct according to the system it follows, just as two writers might date the same event to the spring of 2020 and the spring of 5780, and readers who realize that the first is giving a Gregorian date and the second a Jewish one can accept that they are both right and refer to the same event. However, that example does not really fit the case Schalit is discussing, for two reasons. First, that example referred to two writers, but in our case one writer, Josephus, offers both his data about regnal years and his statement about 140 years in the same work (adjacent books of the Antiquities), and so there is nothing to alert readers to the possibility that the different data are calculated on the basis of two different systems. So we should assume, I believe contrary to Schalit,35 that Josephus was not aware of the discrepancy; perhaps he was not even aware of the fact (if it was) that the figure of 140 years originated in a system based on Jubilee periods. Moreover, the Jewish calendar does not derive from the Gregorian calendar, but in the case discussed by Schalit the data according to the Jubilee system evidently derive from the chronographic data about regnal years36 – a point that Schalit sidesteps in his discussion.37

34

“…so besteht dennoch kein Unterschied zwischen beiden Rechnungen, d a s i e a u f zwei verschiedenen chronologischen Systemen beruhen: Die hundertfünfundzwanzig Jahre sind das Resultat einer chronographischen Zählung, während die hundertundvierzig Jahre auf einer Zählung nach Sabb a t j a h r e n u n d J o b e l z y k l e n b e r u h e n . Aus diesem Grunde dürfen wir sagen, dass das Jahr h u n d e r t f ü n f u n d z w a n z i g vor der Zerstörung des Tempels n a c h c h r o n o g r a p h i s c h e r Z ä h l u n g sich mit dem Jahre h u n d e r t u n d v i e r z i g vor demselben Ereignis nach der Zählung n a c h S a b b a t j a h r e n u n d J o b e l z y k l e n deckt” (Schalit’s typescript on Ant. 11, pp. 38–39, original emphasis). 35 “Two Traditions” 70; p. 22 of the German typescript (“Josephus war sich wohl darüber im klaren, dass er sich mit der schematischen Chronologie mit seinen eigenen chronographischen Angaben [siehe oben] in Widerspruch setzt”). 36 As has been noted, the biblical statements about the lengths of the reigns of the kings of Judah, from Solomon’s fourth year, when the Temple was built (1 Kgs 6:1), to Zedekiah’s eleventh, when the Temple was destroyed (2 Kgs 25:2; Jer 1:3; Josephus, Ant. 10.145), total 430. See, for example, Isidore Loeb, “Notes sur l’histoire des Juifs,” REJ 19 (1889) 203–204, and Ernest Wiesenberg, “Chronological Data in the Zadokite Fragments,” VT 5 (1955) 297. Each of those scholars offers an explanation as to why the rabbis reduced that number by twenty: Loeb suggests they viewed the pillage of the Temple in the days of Jehoiakim (2 Kgs 24:1–2 // 2 Chr 36:6–7), twenty years before its destruction, as the real end of the Temple (a suggestion that also makes the seventy years between the destruction and Cyrus easier to accept), while Wiesenberg notes that if one subtracts one year for each of the kings, due to assumptions concerning overlapping, the total is around 410. See also Milikowsky, Seder Olam 2.204 and ibid., n. 72: although he offers no explanation for the genesis of “410,” he

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V. Conclusion Accordingly, I would modify Schalit’s conclusion slightly, and emphasize that we seem to have here evidence for a two-step process. It probably began with the data about regnal years that are, after all, supplied by the Bible. It was those data that allowed for the calculation of the interval between Hezekiah’s fourth year and Josiah’s eighteenth, and thereafter from the latter to the destruction of the Temple. Indeed, it was such data that allowed for the calculation of the period between Solomon’s construction of the Temple and Hezekiah’s day; for if the datum, that 440 years went by between the entry into the Land and Solomon’s construction of the Temple, derives directly from 1 Kings 6:1,38 the 410 years assigned by tradition to the period from its construction to its destruction are inferred from scattered regnal data alone (see n. 36). But once those data had been assembled, it was simple and attractive to translate them into Jubilee and sabbatical periods, and for the latter dating to circulate separately – including among people who had different notions as to how to calculate Jubilee periods. Apart from that correction, we may agree that, as Schalit argues, it is possible that Josephus is offering here a corollary of a tradition (of secondary origin, based on regnal years) that presumed that the entire period, from the entry into the Land until the destruction of the First Temple, was seventeen full Jubilee periods. The latter datum, if interpreted (whether by Josephus or by his source, be it written or oral) on the assumption, shared by the Book of Jubilees and later by R. Judah, that each Jubilee period was forty-nine years long,39 leads – when taken together with the other tradition, about a centurydoes posit that “doubtless it was an early tradition” and, together with 1 Kgs 6:1, generated the tradition about 850 years = seventeen Jubilees. 37 This seems to be a weakness in Schalit’s discussion. At p. 31 of his typescript he explains the rabbis’ conviction that the First Temple stood for 410 years on the basis of their belief, “wie wir unten sehen werden,” that there were seventeen Jubilee periods between the entry into the Land until the destruction of the First Temple; although Schalit relates here to the 410 years as if the figure was an “aus der Bibel erschlossene Jahreszahl,” in fact he derived it from the tradition about seventeen Jubilee periods. At p. 33, however, he explains in some detail that the rabbis’ belief that the period lasted seventeen Jubilee periods was a conclusion from the above-mentioned datum (“vgl. oben”) that the First Temple stood for 410 years. 38 This verse places the construction of the Temple 480 years after the Exodus, which was followed by forty years of desert wandering before entry into the Land. 39 On Jubilees; see above, n. 31. Note also that all modern discussions of ancient sabbatical chronology ignore the Jubilee, which means that the data show it did not interrupt the sabbatical cycle. See for example the tables that conclude Ben Zion Wacholder’s study, “The Calendar of Sabbatical Cycles during the Second Temple and the Early Rabbinic Period,” HUCA 44 (1973) 153–196, and Don Blosser, “The Sabbath Year Cycle in Josephus,” HUCA 52 (1981) 129–139; although their reconstructions of the cycle differ by one year, they agree

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long interruption of the cycle – to the conclusion that Isaiah’s prophecy came 140 years prior to the destruction of the Temple. Schalit, in his closing remarks on this issue (p. 39), comments that his conclusions illustrate both the antiquity of a tradition known from rabbinic literature and also how deeply enrooted Josephus was in Jewish tradition. Neither point is all that surprising. But especially in this post-Qumran era, with all its emphasis on distinctions between priestly Judaism and rabbinic Judaism, and on Josephus having been a priest and proud of it, it is good to be reminded that there was also plenty of what Schalit called, in this case, “altjüdisches Volksgut.” This case is far from isolated,40 but it is worthy of consideration especially insofar as it relates to a body of Jewish tradition that, as noted at the outset, Josephus has hitherto been thought not only not to have used explicitly, but even not to have reflected. True, Schalit’s suggestion is far from secure. Two other ways to explain Josephus’s contradictory data cannot be excluded.41 Since, however, there are cases in which later rabbinic material, including material found in Seder ‘Olam, clearly parallels and explains puzzling data in Josephus,42 we should be open to the possibility that this is also so in cases that are for now less clear. Perhaps this presentation of Schalit’s suggestion will spark further work that will uncover other traces of similar traditions at work.

with each other and with R. Judah that the Jubilee year did not play any role in sabbatical chronology. Rather, every seven-year period was followed immediately by another one, even if the first year after every seventh sabbatical period (or perhaps the last year of every seventh sabbatical period; see end of n. 31) happened to be called “Jubilee.” See also John S. Bergsma, “Once Again, the Jubilee Every 49 or 50 Years?” VT 55 (2005) 121–125, and Milikowsky, Seder Olam, 2.205, n. 74. The latter concludes that, in contrast, Seder ‘Olam, like the majority of sages (as opposed to R. Judah), considered the Jubilee year to be a separate fiftieth year between the end of every seventh sabbatical cycle and the beginning of the next one. 40 See, lately, Tal Ilan and Vered Noam et al., Josephus and the Rabbis (2 vols.; Between Bible and Mishnah: The David and Jemima Jeselsohn Library; Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi Press, 2017 [in Hebrew]). 41 Namely, either Josephus miscalculated (see n. 12), or Isaiah’s prophecy should be dated earlier (see n. 10). 42 See, for example, Milikowsky, “Seder ‘Olam” 125–127, on the strange tradition in Ant. 10.181–182 and S. ‘Olam Rab. 26.

Rabbinic Stories in the Babylonian Talmud Rosh Hashanah Alan J. Avery-Peck The elaboration of narratives and the expansion of stories are very typical of haggadah. This study proposes an approach to studying such rabbinic stories that supplements the method scholars to-date have most commonly followed. Studies of Talmudic stories tend to focus on literary composition, with the goal of moving from an examination of rhetoric and structure to answering broader issues of meaning. Jeffrey Rubenstein1 phrases the questions surrounding Talmudic narratives like this: “How should we understand them? Where do they come from? Why are they in the Talmud? How do they relate to Talmudic law?” Within a frame of reference that aims at answering these questions by studying rhetoric and narrative style, Rubenstein’s analysis, as is common in this area of research, focuses on the Talmud’s highest stakes narratives, e.g., Baba Meṣia 59a–b’s story of the oven of Akhnai and Ḥagigah 15a–b’s account of the apostacy of Elisha ben Abuyah, which recur throughout the literature on Rabbinic story telling. My point here is not to suggest replacing such literary analysis or to challenge the understandings that emerge from careful readings of the Talmud’s stories, especially of its most substantial ones. My position, rather, is that a full understanding of how rabbinic storytelling functions in the Talmud requires a much broader analysis of where such stories appear and how they are used in tractates viewed as wholes. How pervasive is rabbinic storytelling? In what range of Talmudic topical units do stories appear? Are there specific periods in the unfolding of Talmudic discourse in which stories are more or less prevalent? Rubenstein’s questions cited above are undoubtedly the correct ones. The issue is how we might look in the broadest way possible at the evidence of the Talmud in order to contribute towards answering those questions.2 For students of the New Testament, this approach highlights a reality of the rabbinic literature that might be missed when that literature is used to 1 Talmudic Stories: Narrative Art, Composition, and Culture (Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1999) ix. 2 See the somewhat similar approach to the one I take here, which looks throughout the Talmud at specific sorts of stories and assigns them to the generations of authorities involved, in Richard Kalmin, Sages, Stories, Authors and Editors in Rabbinic Babylonia (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994). And see below, n. 9.

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contextualize New Testament passages and ideas within the world of early Judaism. A search for passages relevant to New Testament study finds a plethora of rabbinic narrative statements that shed light on the earliest Christian writings.3 But this approach obscures for the student of the New Testament the place of such stories within the rabbinic literature itself, masking the fact that, unlike the New Testament, the rabbinic literature relays such stories and reveals the life experiences of its authorities and authorship only episodically and briefly. The narrow and laconic nature of almost all rabbinic stories in the Babylonian Talmud is apparent in the summary listing that appears below of all of the stories found in the Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Rosh Hashanah. My analysis of those stories – where do they come from, and how are they used in the Talmud – further suggests their rather marginal place of narrative elements in the unfolding of the Talmud’s treatment of the law of Rosh Hashanah. To test how a broader approach such as this to Talmudic stories might work, I have identified every unit in Bavli Rosh Hashanah that has a narrative element, that is, that tells us something beyond the simple declaration that Rabbi So-and-So said this-or-that. The forty-eight passages I have thus identified include several complete, though brief, narratives relating experiences that rabbis had or witnessed. They also encompass rabbis' statements regarding certain authorities’ personal ritual practices. And they include comments as minor as statements about the context in which a legal pronouncement was made, for instance, a detail that the statement was made when a particular rabbi came from the land of Israel to Babylonia. Indeed, a significant, and perhaps debatable, aspect of the approach I illustrate here is my inclusion of such a broad range of materials, including ones that hardly function rhetorically at all but, rather, simply as statements of the context of a law. Even as I can hardly disagree that learning about Talmudic culture from rabbinic stories requires the study of substantial texts that deeply mirror and reveal that culture, it seems to me that at stake in this work is our understanding of all cases in which the rabbis choose to provide details that go beyond their specific statement of what the law is or what it means to them. This is the reason that, at least for this initial inquiry, it is important to identify all cases in which rabbis provide any such details, however minor. It is only with all of this data in hand that we can understand the function of rabbinic story telling in tractates as wholes. The inclusion in the Talmud of a notation even so minor as “When R. X came…” suggests a choice the Talmud’s authors and editors made to provide 3

See, for example, Amy Jill Levine and Marc Brettler, eds., The Jewish Annotated New Testament (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 20172), which is replete with citations of rabbinic haggadot relevant to New Testament ideas, imagery, and stories. The many studies of Roger David Aus, most in the series Studies in Judaism, edited by Jacob Neusner and now by me, also apply primarily haggadic material to passages in the Gospels and in Paul.

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a detail beyond what is strictly necessary to their presentation of a law or legal dispute. To answer the question of what such morsels of information mean, we logically begin by discerning 1) whether or not these narrative elements appear more prominently in particular sorts of unit of Talmudic discourse, and 2) whether or not these Talmudic stories are more likely to derive from or be told about a specific generation or generations of rabbinic masters. Notably, despite the very limited data set of this initial study, the forty-eight units of discourse I have identified in a single Talmudic tractate, we are able to derive here at least preliminary answers to both of those questions. In the following, I collate Bavli Rosh Hashanah’s forty-eight narrative passages within the framework of Rosh Hashanah’s overall program of interests, identified in prior research.4 These interests fall into three areas: 1) exegesis of Mishnah’s rules (which accounts for 41.16% of the tractate overall); 2) supplemental laws that complement the topics covered in the Mishnah (representing 51.02% of the tractate); and 3) synthetic argumentation, in which divergent Tannaitic rules and interpretations proposed by different rabbis are brought into debate and comparison (7.82% of the tractate). This initial categorization shows that the preponderance of narrative elements, 70.83%, appears in the tractate’s supplemental materials. While those materials in all events comprise the largest corpus of pericopae in this tractate, the even greater percentage of the narrative units that fall here suggests that such narrative elements were seen by the Talmud’s authors and editors as particularly useful in supplementing the Mishnah (rather than in serving the interests of either exegesis or synthetic commentary). Narrative, this is to say, is not arrayed evenly, or randomly, throughout the tractate but appears where the Talmud’s authors and editors found the best use for it. This points to the Talmud’s authors’ and editors’ careful and purposeful use of the materials they had before them. It bears noting, of course, that at this time we are not in a position to judge whether that use was conscious or simply flowed naturally from the character and content of these narrative materials, which the Talmud’s editors might have seen in their nature to fit better into the supplemental rather than the Talmud’s other materials. The next step in our analysis organizes the forty-eight narrative units according to the generation of Talmudic authorities whose actions or experiences they cite. Past research demonstrates that the six generations of Talmudic authorities are equally and proportionally active in each of the three types of Talmudic discourse I have identified.5 That is, there is no evidence that early 4

See the introduction to my The Talmud of Babylonia. An American Translation. Volume V. Tractate Rosh Hashanah (BJS 306: Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995) 7–29. 5 See my “The Amoraic Agenda in Bavli Rosh Hashanah: A Generational Analysis,” in Bruce Chilton, William Scott Green, Gary G. Porton, and Alan Avery-Peck, eds., A Legacy of Learning: Essays in Honor of Jacob Neusner (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2014) 13–32.

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generations of rabbis had one sort of interest (e.g., in supplementing the Mishnah’s rules) while later generations had different interests (e.g., interpretation or synthetic discussion). All generations appear in the same percentages across these types of Talmudic units. For the narrative materials I have now identified, this study shows results that are in one regard contrary. Fifty-six percent of the forty-eight units studied here involve Tannaim. This is not surprising given the overall focus of the Talmud on rules and ideas that derive from the Tannaitic period, which means that units that include references to Tannaim are pervasive throughout the tractate. Even so, it is noteworthy that the Talmud’s interest in what rabbis did or experienced is, in more than half the instances of such stories in Rosh Hashanah, related to Tannaim. This suggests that interest in rabbis’ actions and experiences was, so far as Talmudic authorities and editors were concerned, primarily focused on the earliest rabbinic generations. They had a greater proclivity to report on those much earlier authorities than they did to discuss their own life experiences, experiences about which, of course, they would have had much more information and to which they would have had greater access. This being the case, the focus of Talmudic story telling on Tannaitic authorities seems to me undoubtedly to represent a choice and preference regarding what information mattered and deserved to be reported and chronicled. The following presents the full data set and statistics that underlie the initial conclusions just described. Setting matters out in this way, using the example of a single Talmudic tractate, obviously represents only an initial foray into this approach. But our ability, as just summarized, to derive from this small sample initial impressions of the uniqueness of the category “Talmudic narrative” suggests that the approach is promising. Applying this approach across the entire Talmud could significantly aid in our comprehension of the Talmud’s construction and the plan and program that lay behind the work of diverse generations of Talmudic authorities. Turning to the data itself, we begin with a general review of the content of the forty-eight units identified for this study, organized according to the overall plan and program of Bavli Rosh Hashanah. As already noted, that plan shows this Talmudic treatise to comprise a careful commentary on and supplement to the Mishnaic tractate,6 laid out along three axes: 1) exegetical material that provides an almost line-by-line and sometimes word-by-word reading of the Mishnaic text; 2) supplementary materials that provide additional laws, parallel in topic to and generally illustrating the same legal principles as those that appear in the Mishnah; and 3) synthetic materials, the smallest category of the tractate, in which the rabbis compare and contrast rules taken from diverse contexts within Mishnah Rosh Hashanah and throughout the Rabbinic corpus.

6

Above, n. 3.

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I. Exegetical Material A. Amoraic exegesis 1.

2:1 I7

Significance of word “another,” M. R. H. 2:1A. Tannaitic incident shows that witnesses need witnesses (pl.) to their character.

2.

2:1 II

Same issue as in preceding entry. T. R. H. 1:16 – Nehorai had a witness – really means two witnesses.

3.

4:1–2 V

Meaning of “and in this regard also,” M. R. H. 4:2A. When Isaac bar Joseph came to Babylonia from the land of Israel, he reported that at Yavneh they sounded Shofar on Rosh Hashanah that was Shabbat.

B. Amoraic disputes over meaning 1.

1:1 XCV

Discussion of Tannaitic rule at unit 1:1 XCIV. Yoḥanan responds to Resh Laqish with silence. Talmud argues why he was silent; did he accept or reject what Resh Laqish said?

2.

1:7 II

Dispute over decided law at M. R. H. 1:7. Yose in the Mishnah: incident in which the witnesses are a man, his son, and his freed slave.

3.

4:4a I

What is the “mix-up” referred to at M. R. H. 4:4A? Zera tells his son Ahaba to go to Babylonia to teach the correct law, on Tannaitic authority.

4.

4:9 XVII

Whose view represents the decided law at M. R. H. 4:9F– G? Abba returned from the sea and explained that sages concede to Gamaliel regarding blessings for R. H. and Y. K. Ḥannah in Sepphoris said Yoḥanan was involved in this same question of whether the law follows Gamaliel.

C. Explanation from Scripture No relevant units. 7 Passages in Bavli Rosh Hashanah are designated by the chapter and paragraph number of the Mishnah pericope to which they are relevant (here: 2:1) followed by a Roman numeral indicating the sequence of Talmudic discussions relevant to that Mishnah passage (in this case, I, that is, the first Talmud passage on M. R. H. 2:1). The designation of passages by this numbering system appears in my The Talmud of Babylonia. An American Translation. Volume V. Tractate Rosh Hashanah.

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D. Explanation from the Mishnah No relevant units. E. Explanation from Tannaitic statements 1.

1:4 III

Tannaitic statement explains M. R. H. 1:4E–F. In response to destruction of Temple, Yoḥanan b. Zakkai ordained no travel to testify to new month.

2.

1:5–6 III

Tannaitic statement disagrees with M. R. H. 1:6A–B. An incident in which Aqiba kept back many witnesses on their way to Jerusalem.

3.

2:2–4 X

Meaning of “lit up like a bonfire,” M. R. H. 2:4D. Tannaitic report of how the lighting of torches came to look like a bonfire (M. 2:4D): exactly what was done.

4.

2:8b–9 IV

Explanation of M. R. H. 2:9B. Report of interaction between Aqiba and Joshua, develops M. R. H. 2:9B. Rule for inadvertent error in setting new month.

5.

3:2 V

Aqiba proves that “yovel,” M. R. H. 3:2D, means “ram.” Aqiba went to Arabia and learned meaning of the word Yovel; he also traveled to other places and learned the meaning of other words.

6.

4:1–2 II

Story of how Yoḥanan b. Zakkai imposed the rule at M. R. H. 4:1D. Yoḥanan b. Zakkai and sons of Beterah regarding sounding the shofar outside of Jerusalem on R. H. that falls on Shabbat. Yoḥanan tricked them into doing it and so fixed the law.

II. Supplementary Material A. Rules cited from the Mishnah and Tosefta 1.

1:1 XXIX

T. Ar. 3:17’s rule for fulfilling a vow + Amoraic explanation. Pappias – M. Ed. 7:7: personal practice suggests law.

2.

2:1 IV

T. R. H. 1:15 provides details behind M. R. H. 2:1. Tannaitic story of how the minim spoiled the process of accepting testimony.

3.

4:5 IV

Procedure for sounding the shofar on New Year, T. R. H. 2:11. Tannaitic story: Yoḥanan b. Beroqah offered prayers on Rosh Hashanah in Usha in the presence of

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Simeon b. Gamaliel and followed the system set by Yoḥanan b. Nuri. The next day Ḥanina son of Yose HaGelili followed the system of Aqiba. Yavnean vs. Ushan custom. B. Other Tannaitic rules and homilies 1.

1:2 XXX

Yose: For individuals, repentance is efficacious only until final judgment has been passed. Story of Valeria the proselyte and Gamaliel; Yose the Priest relates a parable to resolve the contradiction Valeria raised about Scripture’s depiction of God.

2.

1:2 XXXIII

Members of the House of Eli would die at 18 years. Gamaliel instructed them to study Torah.

3.

2:8b–9 III

Court’s decision regarding the new moon is binding even if it is incorrect. An incident: People thought they saw the new moon. Gamaliel told them the rule and then delivered a eulogy so people knew it was not Rosh Ḥodesh, despite what they saw.

4.

3:2 VI

People’s use of certain words explains biblical verses. Same story with Rabbi, who went to seaports and learned meaning of a word relevant to understanding Gen 50:5.

5.

3:2 VII

People’s use of certain words explains biblical verses. Same with Simeon b. Laqish.

6.

3:2 VIII

People’s use of certain words explains biblical verses. Similar story about Levi, who went to study house to learn meaning of word he didn’t know. Rava from Barnish attests in comment to Ashi.

7.

3:2 IX

People’s use of certain words explains biblical verses. Usages by handmaid in house of Rabbi explain meaning of terms the rabbis don’t understand.

8.

3:8 III

Circumstances under which one may repeat an act in order to fulfill the obligation on behalf of some other person. Ashi tells of experience in home of Pappi, which clarifies rule for reciting Kiddush.

9.

4:4b II

List of ordinances of Yoḥanan b. Zakkai + Amoraic discussion. Tannaitic story of the scapegoat, attributed to Yoḥanan b. Zakkai.

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C. Rules and homilies in the names of Amoraim 1.

1:3 IV

The Scroll of Fasting has not been nullified. Eliezer and Joshua in Lud and the rules for fasting, T. Ta. 2:5. They act correctly.

2.

1:3 VI

The Scroll of Fasting has not been nullified. Judah b. Shammua and the correct rules for fasting (regarding the Scroll of Fasting).

3.

1:3 X

Rule for intercalation of Adar. Joshua b. Levi testified in the name of the holy community of Jerusalem regarding rule for Adar; R. Simai testified in the names of Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi concerning the two Adars, that if they desire, they make them both full or defective.

4.

1:3 XI

Continuation of preceding entry. Message from Land of Israel to Uqba regarding intercalation of Nisan.

5.

1:3 XIII

Continuation of preceding discussion. When Ulla came to Babylonia from the land of Israel he said, “They have intercalated Elul.”

6.

1:3 XIV

Can a month be intercalated to prevent the occurrence of a Sabbath-festival sequence? Judah the Prince8 sent to Ami [saying]: “Know that during all of the days of Yoḥanan, he would teach us [that] they intimidate witnesses….

7.

1:3 XVI

Samuel asserts that he can fix the calendar. Abba rejects this notion. When R. Zera went to the land of Israel, he sent back to Babylonia: To proclaim the new moon on the thirtieth of the month, there must be a full night and day of the new moon.

8.

1:3 XVII

Appearance of the new moon. Zera said Naḥman said, difference between Israel and Babylonia for calculating days.

9.

1:3 XX

Conflicts in calendar between the land of Israel and diaspora. Levi reached Babylonia on what the people in Babylonia held to be the eleventh of Tishre.

10.

1:3 XXII

Application of preceding rule. Yoḥanan responds to incorrect calendar observance (need for two days) in case in

8

Reference is to the grandson of “Rabbi.”

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which Aibo bar Nagri and Ḥiyya bar Abba had said nothing. 11.

1:3 XXIII

Problem of observing the Day of Atonement when correct calendar is unknown. Rava fasted for two days. Once he turned out to have acted correctly.

12.

1:3 XXIV

Development of preceding theme. Naḥman fasts on the wrong day. Story of his being informed and cursing the messenger.

13.

1:3 XXVI

How those at sea are to determine the calendar. Naḥman provides rule for seafarers.

14.

2:1 III

Those who report sighting of the new moon do not require character witnesses, contrary to M. R. H. 2:1. Ulla came from the land of Israel and his testimony was accepted without witnesses.

15.

2:2–4 III

Delineation of types of cedar, supplements M. R. H. 2:3. Dimi came from the land of Israel and clarified what wood is in the category of cedar.

16.

2:8a. IV

Permissibility of making images. Rab Judah had a ring with an image; Samuel told him to deface it, illustrating rule for images.

17.

2:8b–9 II

A court’s decision regarding the new moon is binding even if it is incorrect. Ḥiyya threw a rock at the moon and told it to disappear so Rosh Hashanah would be the next day and Yom Kippur would not fall on a Sunday. Rabbi (MSS: Zera) told him to sanctify the month anyway.

18.

3:6–7 V

Rule for preparation of a shofar; sent to the father of Samuel.

19.

3:6–7 XIV

Requirement of intention for fulfillment of religious obligation. Rule sent to the father of Samuel.

20.

4:9 X

Abbahu ordained at Caesaria a particular sequence for sounding the shofar.

D. Tannaitic rules applied to new cases No relevant units.

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E. Application of the Mishnah’s and Tosefta’s rules 1.

1:1 LXXXIV

Aqiba’s application of the rules at M. R. H. 1:1G–H. His personal practice suggests the correct law.

2.

4:4b I

Application of M. R. H. 4:4G. Story of Amemar and woman summoned to court. Ashi disagrees with his response. Issue is impact of M. R. H. 4:4G

III. Synthetic Materials A. Discussion of contradictory or parallel Tannaitic statements No relevant units. B. Which Tannaitic authority? No relevant units. C. Coordination of Amoraic rules 1.

1:1 XCII

Systematization of rules from units 1:1 LXVI, XC and XCI. Yose reports on legal Testimony of Abtolemos and Ushan Rabbis’ vote, T. Sheb. 4:2

Synoptic Table A at the end of this essay shows what is distinctive about Bavli Rosh Hashanah’s units that contain narrative. While 52% of Bavli Rosh Hashanah is dedicated to supplementing the Mishnah, 71% of Talmudic stories fall in that category. By contrast, in the most sophisticated category of Talmudic discourse, the synthetic materials that most likely represent the editorial work of the latest generations of Talmudic masters, narrative elements barely appear, accounting for just one unit. This is 2.08% of the total number of narrative units, compared to the 7.82% of Bavli Rosh Hashanah overall that falls in this category. The similar divergence in the percentage of the tractate overall devoted to exegesis (41.16%) and of the narrative materials in that category (27.08%) again suggests an editorial preference: stories about rabbis supplement the Mishnah. They play a considerably smaller role in discussions of the meaning of the Mishnah’s laws. It bears noting that, within the subcategories of the supplementary materials, stories largely appear exactly where we would expect them, under “Rules/homilies in names of Amoraim,” accounting for 58.9% of the narrative units in this category, and “Other Tannaitic rules and homilies,” where 26.5% of the stories in this category appear. Synoptic Table B at the end of this essay adds to the delineation of Rosh Hashanah’s materials the generations of Tannaim and Amoraim to whom

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narrative elements refer. The table indicates the percentages of our forty-eight stories that derive from each generation of rabbis in comparison to the percentage of the tractate as a whole that pertains to those generations. The dramatic difference that this chart underscores is the high percentage of narrative elements that pertain to Tannaim. The point reflected in the numbers in Synoptic Table B can be concisely stated. Narratives and stories are a not-insubstantial component of Bavli Rosh Hashanah. Our forty-eight examples appear in 14% of Bavli Rosh Hashanah’s individual pericopae and, while their prevalence, noted above, in supplemental materials is clear, they are found throughout the categories of Talmudic materials: exegetical, supplemental, and synthetic. This suggests that 1) in conceiving of how they would present their legal discussions, those who formulated the Talmud both had a store of available materials that reflected on incidents in the lives of rabbis, and that 2) especially as supplements, they found these materials interesting and worthwhile as ways of presenting the law. At the same time, just as the percentages of Talmudic stories that fall in each of the three categories is not entirely cohesive with the overall distribution of the Talmud’s units, so the periods from which the narrative materials derive diverge from the Talmud’s norm. First is the striking fact that 56.25% of narrative materials, 27 out of 48 units, concern Tannaim, which suggests a significant preference for recalling and relating stories about pre-Talmudic authorities rather than about the Talmudic rabbis who are the main players in the Talmud’s legal discourse. This preference for stories about Tannaim is perhaps most striking in the fact that, even in the category “Rules and homilies in the names of Amoraim,” the twenty units of which account for 41.66% of all narratives, seven of the units, 35%, concern Tannaim. This highlights the pervasiveness of early stories within this tractate, even in contexts such as “Rules and homilies in the names of Amoraim,” in which we might have expected more stories about Talmudic authorities than the total of thirteen that appear there. The focus of the Talmudic stories in the area of supplementary materials, and their higher than anticipated focus on the Tannaitic generations, begin to reveal that which is unique about these materials, suggesting the distinctive interests and motivations of the Talmud’s authors and editors. At the same time, of perhaps equal value in these statistics is what they reveal about the overall distribution of the non-Tannaitic materials among the generations of Talmudic authorities. The point is revealed clearly when we compare the percentage of Amoraic narratives and stories (that is, twenty-one out of the corpus of forty-eight texts studied here) that derive from each generation of Talmudic rabbis with the percentage of all 342 Talmudic units that involve each generation. This exercise yields as close a correspondence between the two percentages as we might possibly expect to find when looking at as small a corpus as

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the twenty-one relevant passages that contain stories. To make the point, the relevant data from Synoptic Table B is reproduced here. 1st gen.

2nd gen.

3rd gen.

4th gen.

5th gen.

6th gen.

Amoraic stories and narratives, #/%

2/9.52

7/33.33

6/28.57

4/19.04

0/0.00

2/9.52

All units of Rosh Hashanah, #/%

39/11.4

67/19.6

112/32.7

79/23.1

26/7.6

19/5.5

While the correlations are not exact, they are close. Attributed statements in Bavli Rosh Hashanah derive predominantly from the 2nd, 3d, and 4th generations of Amoraim, who account for 75.4% of the tractate. Amoraic stories derive largely from these same generations, totaling 80.94% of the twenty-one relevant units. While a few passages pertain to the 1st, 5th, and 6th generations, in neither the Bavli as a whole nor in its narrative materials are these generations prominently represented. There are, however, differences. The largest body of narrative materials derives from the 2nd generation, while the most represented generation in the tractate as a whole is the 3d. While no narrative materials derive from the 5th generation, 7.6% of the tractate’s units can be situated in that period.9 Even so, and especially considering the small number of stories with which we are dealing here, this larger correlation suggests that interest in and use of narrative remained rather consistent across the generations of Talmudic authorities. The focused interest in Tannaitic rabbis’ actions and experiences and the use of narrative details in supplemental materials seem to have been a feature of Talmudic discourse in general. Beyond these particular attitudes towards narrative elements, no generation of Talmudic rabbis took a significantly greater or lesser interest in this kind of materials than we would expect based upon the prevalence of that generation in this tractate as a whole.10 9 Citing his The Mind of the Talmud (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990) 30-41, Kalmin, Sages, Stories, Authors and Editors 280, states that in the Talmud as a whole, 5th generation Amoraim appear less frequently than those of the 6th generation. While this does not appear to be the case in Bavli Rosh Hashanah overall, it appears to hold for the narratives and stories, for which we have no 5th generation evidence. 10 See my “The Amoraic Agenda in Bavli Rosh Hashanah: A Generational Analysis.” As I note there (32, n. 6), Kalmin, Sages, Stories, Authors and Editors, does identify specific rhetorical forms with individual generations of Amoraim, such that “statements by later Amoraim are formally distinguishable from statements by earlier Amoraim” (111). Kalmin’s work is discussed by Jacob Neusner, “Do Types and Forms Yield a Pre-History of the Bavli?,” in Review of Rabbinic Judaism 16:2 (2013) 215-236, who in a study of Bavli Tractate Moed Qatan reaches a conclusion commensurate with my own and on the surface different from Kalmin’s. But, as Neusner notes, Kalmin’s conclusion that statements of different generations of Amoraim are “formally distinguishable” is a different sort of assertion from the one made in studies such as

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IV. Conclusions This study suggests that the haggadic elaboration of narratives and the expansion of stories had a limited but specific role in the unfolding of Bavli Rosh Hashanah. Such narratives were used primarily as an aspect of the Bavli’s authors’ supplementation of the Mishnah’s rules. Primarily involving the Mishnah’s own authorities, they suggest an interest in the actions of the earlier generations, rather than their own, as well as a fixed sense of the rhetorical context in which stories most belonged (that is, in supplemental rather than exegetical materials). While the prominence of Tannaitic materials within Talmudic stories is noteworthy, it is equally indicative of the Amoraic program in Rosh Hashanah that the twenty-one stories that concern Amoraic authorities are spread among the Amoraic generations in proportions roughly equivalent to the entire corpus of materials in the chapter. This is to say that no single Amoraic generation seems more interested in the telling of stories than any other. This parallels what has already been shown about the topical interests found in the tractate overall: we cannot distinguish the generations based on unique interests or exegetical concerns. While the implications of this fact for our understanding of Talmudic redaction are debatable,11 the absence of identifiable rhetorical or topical interests distinguished by Amoraic generation clearly suggests the difficulty of conceptualizing the Talmud’s prehistory, that is, of depicting how differential, evolving concerns of generation after generation of Talmudic authority yielded the document before us today. So far as Amoraic interests in story telling suggest, similar to what we see from their interests in commenting on and supplementing the Mishnah, the evidence of Rosh Hashanah is clear. Distinctions among earlier and later generations of Amoraim do not appear in the evidence before us.

his and mine, which find that the different generations are not distinguishable on the basis of rhetorical interests. 11 Perhaps the program of the Talmud’s treatment of the Mishnah was clear from the earliest generation of Amoraim, so that all Amoraim of all generations participated in the full range of intellectual activities now preserved in the completed Talmudic text and, in the context of their knowledge of that program, chose primarily to recall stories involving Tannaim and to use them in their supplemental materials. Alternatively, even though the contents of the Talmud were shaped only by the latest generation of anonymous editors, those individuals had sufficient antecedent, attributed materials to formulate all three types of Talmudic analyses with attributed statements and to use stories such as are identified here equally among those materials. Based on the present study, I see no way to judge between these possibilities.

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SYNOPTIC TABLE A

% of category

% of Narrative units

% of Narrative category

% of all Narrative Units

50 7 49 1 14

41.32 5.79 40.50 .82 11.57

17.01 2.38 16.67 .34 41.16

3 4 0 0 6

23 31 0 0 46

6.25 8.33 0 0 12.5

Totals:

121

100

41.16

13

100

27.08

II. Supplementary Material A. Rules cited from Mishnah and Tosefta

14

9.33

4.76

3

8.8

6.25

B. Other Tannaitic rules and homilies

37

24.67

12.59

9

26.5

18.75

C. Rules/homilies in names of Amoraim

95

63.34

32.31

20

58.9

41.66

D. Tannaitic rules applied to new cases

2

1.33

.68

0

0

0

E. Application of Mishnah’s and Tosefta’s rules

2

1.33

.68

2

5.8

4.16

Totals:

150

100

51.02

34

100

70.83

III. Synthetic Material A. Discussion of contradictory Tannaitic statements

14

60.87

4.76

0

0

0

B. Which Tannaitic authority? C. Coordination of Amoraic Rules Totals:

5 4 23

21.74 17.39 100.0 0

1.70 1.36 7.82

0 1 1

0 100 100

0 2.08 2.08

Final Totals:

294

100

48

% of Rosh Hashanah

% of Units in R.H. I. Exegetical Material A. Amoraic exegesis B. Amoraic disputes over meaning C. Explanation from Scripture D. Explanation from Mishnah E. Explanation from Tannaitic statements

100

6/12.5

E. Explanation from Tannaitic statements

% of Rosh Hashanah (342 units total)

3.8

13/27.08

0/0.00

D. Explanation from Mishnah

Totals:

0/0.00

C. Explanation from Scripture

#/% of Narrative units 2.63

9/69.23

6/100

0/0.00

0/0.0

1/25

.00

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

2nd generation: #/% of category .584

2/15.38

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

2/50

0/0.0

.00

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

3rd generation: #/% of category

4/8.33

1st generation: #/% of category 0/0.0

.584

2/15.38

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

1/25

1/33.33

4th generation: #/% of category

B. Amoraic disputes over meaning

Tannaim: #/% of category 2/66.66

0.00

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

5th generation: #/% of category

3/6.25

.00

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

6th generation: #/% of category

A. Amoraic exegesis

I. Exegetical Material

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SYNOPTIC TABLE B

20/41.66

0/0.00

2/4.16

34/70.83

9.94

C. Rules and homilies in the names of Amoraim

D. Tannaitic rules applied to new cases

E. Application of Mishnah’s and Tosefta’s rules

Totals:

% of Rosh Hashanah (342 units total)

#/% of Narrative units 4.97

17/50

1/50

0/0.0

7/35

6/66.66

.584

2/5.89

0/0.0

0/0.0

1/5

1/11.11

2nd generation: #/% of category 1.46

5/14.7

0/0.0

0/0.0

5/25

0/0.0

0/0.0

1.46

5/14.7

0/0.0

0/0.0

5/25

0/0.0

0/0.0

3rd generation: #/% of category

9/18.75

1st generation: #/% of category 0/0.0

.584

2/5.89

0/0.0

0/0.0

2/10

0/0.0

0/0.0

4th generation: #/% of category

B. Other Tannaitic rules and homilies

Tannaim: #/% of category 3/100

0.00

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

5th generation: #/% of category

3/6.25

.877

3/8.82

1/50

0/0.0

0/0.0

2/22.22

0/0.0

6th generation: #/% of category

A. Rules cited from Mishnah and Tosefta

II. Supplementary Material

172 Alan J. Avery-Peck

SYNOPTIC TABLE B (continued)

21

#/% of Amoraic Narratives

% comprised of all units of Rosh Hashanah

14.02

48

Final Totals: #/% of Narratives

% of Rosh Hashanah (342 units total)

.29

1/2.08

Totals:

% of Rosh Hashanah (342 units total)

1/2.08

C. Coordination of Amoraic Rules

#/% of Narrative units 7.89

27/56.25

.29

1/100

0/0.0

0/0.0

39/11.4

.584

2/9.52

2/4.16

.00

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

2nd generation: #/% of category 67/19.6

2.04

7/33.33

7/14.59

.00

0/0.0

2/25.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

112/32.7

1.75

6/28.57

6/12.5

.00

0/0.0

5/62.5

0/0.0

0/0.0

3rd generation: #/% of category

0/0.00

1st generation: #/% of category 0/0.0

79/23.1

1.17

4/19.04

4/8.34

.00

0/0.0

1/12.5

0/0.0

0/0.0

4th generation: #/% of category

B. Which Tannaitic authority?

Tannaim: #/% of category 0/0.0

26/7.6

0.00

0/0.00

0/0.0

0.00

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

5th generation: #/% of category

0/0.00

19/5.5

.584

2/9.52

2/4.16

.00

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

0/0.0

6th generation: #/% of category

A. Discussion of contradictory Tannaitic statements

III. Synthetic Material

Rabbinic Stories in the Babylonian Talmud Rosh Hashanah

173

SYNOPTIC TABLE B (continued)

The Syro-Phoenician Woman and the Jerusalem Talmud Tal Ilan In this short article I intend to show how a certain literary motif that is strongly associated with gender appears both in the Gospels and in the Jerusalem Talmud. The importance of this repetition is in demonstrating that the same cultural ideas and suppositions informed the two corpora in question, especially in their similar approach to women and their needs and problems. In both corpora the approach to women is both disparaging and benevolent, showing that the men who put these stories down in writing shared a similar view of the lowly women’s position in their society compared to men, and while they accepted this position as part of the natural order of the world, they were not above criticizing it and sympathizing with the woman. In all three stories the storyteller places the last witty words in the mouth of the woman, and the failure of the men to answer back indicates that the storyteller understands the woman’s plight and is on her side.

I. The Story of the Syro-Phoenician Woman (Mark 7:24–30)1 The story of the Syro-Phoenician woman and her sick daughter is told in both the Synoptic Gospels of Matthew and Mark. I here cite Mark’s (probably earlier) version according to the New Revised Standard Version: 24

From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, 25 but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. 26 Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. 27 He said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” 28 But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” 29 Then he

1 Much has been written on every passage of the Gospel, and a full bibliography is both unnecessary and impossible to list here. One can begin with the four entries in the Women in Scripture: A Dictionary of Named and Unnamed Women in the Hebrew Bible, the Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical Books and the New Testament, ed. Carol Meyers, Toni Craven and Ross S. Kraemer (Boston/New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2000); the mother and daughter in Matthew by Amy-Jill Levine (pp. 411–414); and the mother and daughter in Mark by Elisabeth Struthers Malbon (pp. 426–428), and see other bibliography there.

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said to her, “For saying that, you may go – the demon has left your daughter.” 30 So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.

The protagonists of this story are a woman and her daughter, though they need not be. It could be told of a man and his daughter, or a man and his son, or even of a woman and her son. In other words, gender is not of specific importance here. What is important, though, is that the woman is a gentile. Her otherness is not marked by gender but by ethnicity. Yet she is a woman nonetheless. Hierarchy is at the heart of this story. Somebody is preferentially treated because s/he is of the people of Israel, whom Jesus describes here as “the children” (and in Matt 15:24, specifically as “the lost sheep of the House of Israel”). Others are discriminated against because they are not Israel (i.e., children), and the metaphor Jesus uses to describe them is “dogs.” While it is true that these metaphors describe real members of a household, in which there are children (or sheep) and dogs, in ancient Jewish society dogs were not seen as man’s best friend but rather as a lowly despised creature, a comparison to which is considered a curse (see e.g. 1 Sam 17:43; 24:14; 2 Sam 3:8; 16:9; 2 Kgs 8:13, etc.). Certainly Mark (and Matthew) knew this when he put this epithet for the gentile in the mouth of Jesus.2 The strategy the Syro-Phoenician woman uses in order to answer Jesus’ disrespectful rejoinder is of unique interest. She does not reject or deny the status she has been given but rather accepts it. “Yes,” she says, “we are dogs; but in a household that is properly run, dogs are also useful and fed so as to keep them alive just like human children, even if the food they receive is only the crumbs and left-overs of what humans receive.” By this strategy she wins Jesus over. She does not challenge him or insult him (though he has certainly insulted her), and he does her bidding. I would describe her answer as falling within the category of the kind of advice my mother had given me when I was a young girl: “Do not be righteous and indignant; be wise.” This sort of advice is perhaps not politically correct, but it works. It worked for the Syro-

2

One could argue that the story of the Syro-Phoenician woman really happened (i.e., it is an historical event), since, for example, the protagonist is a woman, and if it was made up, the storyteller would have told the story of a man. See my Mine and Yours are Hers: Retrieving Women’s History from Rabbinic Literature (Leiden: Brill, 1997) 237–239. There I quote Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza regarding our particular story: “That such a theological argument (the right of the gentiles to share in the blessing of Jesus’ coming) is placed in the mouth of a woman is a sign of the historical leadership women had in opening up Jesus’ movement and community to ‘gentile sinners’ (Gal 2:15b).” Cf. In Memory of Her: A Feminist Theological Reconstruction of Christian Origins (New York: Continuum, 1983) 138. However, there are good reasons for claiming that this is a literary composition, as I will argue in the conclusion to this study.

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Phoenician woman, and it works often for the under-privileged, women being prime examples thereof.3 In the following lines I will describe two such stories from the Jerusalem Talmud about women in which they are maligned and insulted, but instead of protesting or rejecting their denigration, they play along with their detractors, eventually winning the argument. Both stories are embedded in a halakhic context, but are clearly literary creations (aggadah), as has been shown recently for the Mishnah,4 and is certainly true for its later, more agaddically inclined, exegetical companions, the talmudim.

II. The Story of the Raped Woman The Jerusalem Talmud tells the following story: A woman came to Rabbi Yoḥanan and said to him: “I was raped.” He said to her: “And did you not enjoy it in the end?” She said to him: “If a man dips his finger in honey and puts it in his mouth on Yom Kippur, is it not bad for him? And yet does he not enjoy it?” And he accepted her argument (y. Soṭah 4:5, 19d).5

In this story a woman comes to complain to Rabbi Yoḥanan that she was raped. There are several reasons why she may have been telling him this. For example, perhaps she wishes to argue that the child with whom she could be pregnant may not be her husband’s, and thus perhaps a suspected mamzer (cf. m. Yebam. 4:13). Alternatively, perhaps a high priest wishes to marry her, and she also wants to. She can tell him that she was raped and is thus forbidden to him (cf. t. Yebam. 8:3). Or maybe she is already married to a priest and wishes to be divorced. If she was raped, he is indeed expected to divorce her (cf. b. Yebam. 56b; b. Soṭah 26a). However, from the context in which this story is told, the reason she tells the sage that she was raped is because her husband (who is not a priest) suspects her of infidelity, and had there been a Temple standing, would have taken her to the Temple to test her with

3 I will not discuss here the topsy-turvy world it represents of Israel being the privileged, and the nations of the world those discriminated against. Of course in the “real world” of the New Testament, Jews were the ones treated as “dogs.” The fantasy that Jesus’ presence allowed his disciples (the Jewish authors of the Gospels) to experience that the really privileged are “the lost sheep of the House of Israel” is beyond the scope of this paper. 4 Moshe Simon-Shoshan, Stories of the Law: Narrative Discourse and the Construction of Authority in the Mishnah (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012). 5 I have written about this story and its watered-down, almost unrecognizable parallel in the Babylonian Talmud (where the whole point of the tradition I discuss here disappears). See my Silencing the Queen: The Literary Histories of Queen Shelamzion and Other Jewish Women (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006) 185–188.

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bitter-water (cf. Num 5:12–31). In its absence, he may divorce her without paying her marriage settlement (see m. Soṭah 4, and specifically y. Soṭah 4:1, 19c). Rabbi Yoḥanan does not suspect the woman of lying; instead he makes a suggestion that today would be considered, especially in feminist circles, as most insulting. He suggests, as many men believe, that there is no such thing as rape. Secretly, so they believe, all women want to be raped. Rapists are only doing women a favor. Like the advice my mother gave me which I cited above, this reminds me of a joke my father once told me: “A father advises his daughter: If someone tries to rape you, shout and scream as loud as you can; if it does not work, beat the rapist, bite him, kick him, scratch him; and if this does not work either, try to lie down so that you will also enjoy it” – a truly misogynist joke. But it shows that the same concepts about women and rape were in vogue then as today. In such a context, if a woman is raped, she is in fact being unfaithful to her husband because she wanted to have sex with a rapist. This is probably what Rabbi Yoḥanan is suggesting. In terms of practical consequences, he is suggesting that the woman should be treated like a suspected adulteress and divorced with no compensation. She is, thus, both raped and punished – what we would call today “blaming the victim.” The woman, however, answers back, wins the argument, and also wins Rabbi Yoḥanan over. She does this not by rejecting his insulting suggestion about women and rape, but rather by adopting it. She says: “Even if you are right, and women indeed enjoy being raped, if they are loyal wives they do not allow this to happen because it is forbidden. If it happens, it is not their fault.” The metaphor (or parable) she uses to argue her case is of one being forced to eat something delicious on Yom Kippur, when eating anything is forbidden. The fact that a person enjoys it does not make it legally permitted. This strategy works – the “wise woman, who does not react in righteous indignation” against insults, succeeds in winning the argument. It works because, unlike rape, which Rabbi Yoḥanan does not understand, he can identify very well with someone who is being forced to eat on Yom Kippur against his wish. Like Jesus, who accepted the Syro-Phoenician woman’s argument because she accepted his insult without demanding an apology for such disparagement, so too Rabbi Yoḥanan accepted this woman’s argument because she did not reject his misogynistic view of rape.

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III. The Story of Rabbi Yehudah ha-Nasi’s Female Slave6 The Jerusalem Talmud also tells another story of the same order: A man came to engage in sex with Rabbi (Yehudah ha-Nasi)’s female slave. She said to him: “Unless my mistress immerses, I do not immerse [and am therefore unclean].” He said to her: “And are you not like a beast?” She said to him: “And have you not heard that whoever has intercourse with a beast is stoned?” (y. Ber. 3:4, 6c).

By now it is clear to the reader why this story resembles the two previous ones we discussed. Its protagonist is a woman, and she is insulted by her interlocutor. Instead of righteous indignation, she adopts the insult and uses it to her advantage, winning the argument. Having described the similarities, let us now look at its distinctiveness. The woman is one of a special class – she is a slave. Thus, like the story of the Syro-Phoenician woman of the Gospels, her otherness is not just, or not necessarily, gendered. There she was a gentile; gentiles can also be males. Here she is of a different, lowly and despised class – slaves. Of course there were male as well as female slaves. The insult, that slaves like beasts are the property of others and thus not quite human, could just as well have been hurled at a male slave. Yet there is a distinctly gendered element here which requires that the protagonist be a woman. The man who approaches her wishes to have sex with her. Perhaps this could also have happened with a male slave, but her argument as to why she is unavailable is of a uniquely feminine nature – she is menstrually impure because she has not immersed after her period. Menstruation, as is well known, only happens to women. The man who confronts the slave has to be a Jew, for where he is not Jewish, the issue of menstrual impurity would not have been a problem, and the slave-woman’s argument would have been lost on him. The argument the slave-woman puts forward is halakhic and Jewish; it has to be answered with a halakhic argument. The man says to her that she is like a beast, and not like a (Jewish) woman, and therefore menstrual purity is irrelevant for her. In other words, the man is referring to her being someone’s property, like his/her beast. She answers him that, while sex with a woman is halakhically forbidden when she is menstrually impure, sex with a beast is always forbidden, and punishable by death. In other words, it is preferable for this man to consider her a woman and not a beast, because sex with a menstrually impure woman is a lesser transgression than sex with a beast.

6 Much has been written about this woman, especially in the Babylonian Talmud. For my analysis and bibliography see Mine and Yours are Hers, 97–107 (on this story, p. 98); on this tradition and a parallel in the Babylonian Talmud see also Silencing the Queen, 188–192.

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The comparison of a slave to a beast is not very different from the comparison of gentiles to dogs in the story about the Syro-Phoenician woman, and beast is no less of an insult. The “beast” of the rabbis is easily comparable with the common English insult to women: “cow.” Here, as in the case of the Syro-Phoenician woman, the slave-woman begins by accepting the insulting epithet. She does not deny that she is like a beast – she only points out to the man what dire consequences are in store for him in case he is correct. There is, however, a covert difference in the sort of acceptance the two women display. While the Syro-Phoenician woman seems to humbly accept the comparison between her and a dog, Rabbi’s slave-woman’s acceptance of the insult is conditional. She only accepts it for the sake of the argument; she says: “If you want to have sex with me, you are worse off if I am a beast.” In other words, she does not think that she is a beast, and she is not interested in being wise instead of righteously indignant. And indeed, the story does not end with the man accepting her argument, since she had accepted his insult. In fact we do not know how the story ends because the storyteller is interested in letting his female protagonist win, without revealing to us the consequences of her victory, though these could be dire. The man, who is now the insulted party, may resort to violence, and no one would protect the slave woman. This story, however, may alert us to the fact that viewing the SyroPhoenician woman and the raped woman who came to Rabbi Yoḥanan as accepting the insult is a superficial reading of their stories. Perhaps they too only accept the insult conditionally for the sake of the argument, but the Syro-Phoenician woman does not really think gentiles are like dogs, and the raped woman does not really think that women enjoy rape.

IV. Final Observations In this short essay I have pointed out three stores about women and the way they answer men which, although stemming from two entirely different corpora, may have been taken from the same manual for writing stories about wronged women righted and the way they should go about achieving their rights. The principle is the following advice to the woman: 1. If you are being insulted, don’t be. 2. If you are called names, adopt them. 3. If the man brings up an argument from logic or theology or halakhah, show him the loophole in his own argument. That all three stories follow this pattern shows that they do indeed all stem from the same cultural milieu. There is another bit of added value here for the story of the SyroPhoenician woman, when compared to its Jerusalem Talmud siblings. In both of the latter’s stories it is clear why the protagonist of the story is a woman. In the first one it is because of rape and marital status, and in the second one

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because of menstruation. These elements in the story require a woman as protagonist. The story of the woman and her sick daughter do not require a female protagonist. Thus, one may rightly ask: Why is it told in this way? After all, in both the Judaism of the time of Jesus and in the time of the Jerusalem Talmud, “man” was generic. Women were only employed in stories when the task at hand could not be handled by a man (who, for example, do not menstruate, or are not subject to the bitter water test).7 Do we conclude from this that the Syro-Phoenician woman was an historical figure because she is not fictionally feminine? In light of what we have just seen about the specific genre to which this story belongs, I think that we can now offer a more sophisticated answer. The story of the Syro-Phoenician woman falls into the category of stories about wronged women, who are righted by their humble but wise answer. As such, it had to be told about a woman.

7 See Ilan, Mine and Yours are Hers 237–239, with specific reference to this story on p. 239.

Jesus, Master of Aggadah. The Parable of the Four Kinds of Soil Peter J. Tomson The so-called “parable of the sower” has always been understood as a key parable for several reasons. It has pride of place in the little parable collection in Mark 4 and is adopted as such in the developed form of Matthew 13. For the general reader, it opens up a view on the way people capture and digest Jesus’ message, as also on the “didactic” approach chosen by Jesus. At the same time, and especially in the interpolated “interpretive comment” in Mark 4:10–12, the parable opens up an imaginative perspective on the sluggish and unobtrusive advance of the Kingdom of God through human failure and divine providence. Luke in his own way seems to embrace all these aspects in placing the parable at a significant juncture in the unfolding of Jesus’ public appearance. The following study takes such basic observations for granted while delving into the Jewish texture of what we shall be calling “the parable of the four kinds of soil.” After having questioned what the ancient rabbis meant by the expressions “expert in halakhah” and “in aggadah,” we will explore a particular genre of rabbinic sayings to which Jesus’ parable may be considered to belong as well as the repository of subject matter it draws on. Our perception will be more adequate as we allow it to include elements Jewish culture shared with its Near-Eastern and Graeco-Roman surroundings. Having then also studied the wider context in the gospel text, this will give us a pretty good impression of the unique teacher of parables Jesus was, as also of the nature of the “aggadah” he propounded in his teaching. In conclusion, we shall consider in what sense we could describe Jesus by the rabbinic term, “master of aggadah.”

I. The Big Questions Stating all these things simultaneously at the outset is begging the big questions of New Testament and rabbinic study. How do we bridge the gap of a century and a half between the Gospels and the earliest rabbinic writings? How can we get around the tricky problem of dating rabbinic traditions and attaching them to particular situations? How can we speak at all about specif-

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ic things the historical Jesus might have said? How can we prove the likelihood that a rabbinic category such as “aggadah” applies at all in the New Testament? How can we be sure that Jesus’ unique message does not shatter the boundaries of Judaism? There was a time when such questions were thought to be insuperable and hence better left alone for the sake of one’s academic career. However, there are indications that things are changing in New Testament and rabbinic studies and some of these questions are becoming less unwieldy. This possibility opens up once we adopt a viewpoint that allows us to overlook Judaism and Christianity in their development and interaction during the early centuries of our era, enabling us so to say to “look around” the big questions of New Testament study and of rabbinics and to sense the points where they might interconnect. Among available opportunities, the present article will endeavour to do so while referring to a research project whose aim precisely is to describe the shared history of Jews and Christians in the first and second centuries, while also drawing on earlier studies related to the project.1 Asking for the uniqueness of Jesus’ message is often understood to be a mere Christological exercise, involving a lofty theological interest in the subject and overlooking its entanglement in the muddle of history. This need not be so. One could perfectly well study the “unique” qualities of Jesus’ parables without severing them from their Jewish environment as witnessed, say, in rabbinic tradition, thus viewing Jesus as a master of aggadah to be compared with other Jewish teachers. At the same time, such a study could have a Christological relevance insofar as a number of Jesus’ parables seem to reflect his self-awareness in relation to the Kingdom of God, influencing the way his subsequent followers saw him. Thus, depending on the reader’s interests, critical historical and literary study of Jesus’ parables may well be appreciated as making theological and Christological sense.2 Underlying this is another huge problem: the separation of Christianity from Judaism. Did it happen or did it not? is a crude way of putting it. When did it, if it did, and where? is already better. More adequate still would be to distinguish between those phenomena that indicate continuity and those reflecting rupture. Numerous elements of early Christian tradition and literature can easily be recognized as Jewish in origin, while there is yet a general, sharp sense of severance. This paradox is embodied in the complex relation 1

Peter J. Tomson and Joshua Schwartz, eds., Jews and Christians in the First and Second Centuries: How to write Their History (CRINT 13; Leiden: Brill, 2014); J. Schwartz and P. J. Tomson, eds., Jews and Christians in the First and Second Centuries: The Interbellum 70–132 CE (CRINT 15; Leiden: Brill, 2018); P. J. Tomson, Studies on Jews and Christians in the First and Second Centuries (WUNT 418; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2019). 2 Tomson, “The Song of Songs in the Teachings of Jesus,” in Studies 235–252 skirts Christological implications but does not make them explicit.

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between the two main traditions that survived from Second Temple Judaism, rabbinic Judaism and gentile Christianity. It resembles a partition of property between marriage partners who were made enemies by a vicious incident that intruded into their relationship, forcing a formal separation on them while they remained tied together by numerous intimate threads. It has recently been argued that such an “incident” is provided in the three wars that occurred between Jews and Romans under Vespasian (66–70), Trajan (115– 117), and Hadrian (132–136 CE), the last and culminating one also being called after its Jewish leader, Bar Kokhba. Most likely it was no coincidence that following the first war, the fledgling regime of “rabbis” that emerged in those days seems to have issued as one of its first measures the decree to excommunicate Christians by including them in the category of minim or heretics.3 Abandoning this metaphor, another one may illustrate what subsequently happened to Jews and Christians. They were like people inhabiting continents that had started to drift apart and inexorably continued to do so until they had become worlds apart. The process was so slow and unobtrusive that no one saw it happening nor understood why it did. Viewed from space, the tectonic shift can be easily recognized by the parallel curves in their coastlines, but their inhabitant mammals have mutated to the extent of belonging to different classes. Only the plants and primitive animals conserve the shared genetic heritage. Shedding all metaphors now, one could say that scholars of the New Testament and rabbinics have habitually misunderstood each other from the first syllable onwards. Their main source texts seem to refer to different planets, however hard well-intending pioneers try to track and trace the similarities and possible common roots. Their respective frames of perception and interpretation were formatted in centuries-old education programmes along the lines of inherited tradition. New arising methods, whether they be historical criticism, form and redaction criticism, or literary and rhetorical criticsm, have been attracting young scholars in their successive cohorts without getting at, let alone repairing, the underlying fault line. Of course, this is not to discredit the minority of those that across the ages kept (re)discovering and exploiting the multiple links between rabbinic literature and the earliest Christian writings.4 As a result, both sides understand the “theological” truth of Christianity as being separate from the “historical” experience of Judaism. Albert Schweitzer’s justly famous Quest of the Historical Jesus endeavoured to 3

See references in n. 1 and Tomson, “The Gospel of John and the Parting of the Ways,” in Studies 621–661. 4 William Horbury, “The New Testament and Rabbinic Study – An Historical Sketch,” in The New Testament and Rabbinic Literature, ed. Reimund Bieringer, Florentino García Martínez, Didier Pollefeyt, and Peter J. Tomson (Sup JSJ 136; Leiden: Brill, 2010) 1–40.

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anchor Jesus’ preaching, picking up on the eighteenth-century work of Hermann Samuel Reimarus, in “late Jewish eschatology,” while expressly excluding rabbinic literature from his source repertory, and ending up postulating a very un-theological and un-Christological Jesus.5 This is the firstmentioned big question phrased in reverse. It could not be otherwise. There seems to be a subterraneous connection between the separation of Christianity from Judaism and the chasm between Christology, or the theological view on Jesus, and the “historical,” earthly Jesus construed from comparison with Jewish sources. To the extent that is true, however, there is hope. Assiduously studying Jesus and his transmitted words in connection with rabbinic literature yields ever increasing insight into the particular Jewish milieus and channels of tradition that – although largely beyond the scope of the available sources – the extraordinary teacher from Nazareth may have tapped into. In this connection, the Qumran sources are of great though peculiarly limited value. One of their huge contributions is in the solid evidence they present of a Hebrew-speaking group of Jews securely dated in the later Second Temple period and evincing a range of terminologies that otherwise would have remained within the confines of their extant Greek equivalents. Wellknown examples are “works of the law” and “being justified by faith,” but the “children of light” and the “Mammon of injustice” are among many to be added. This in turn has made it less perilous for one’s scholarly career to adduce parallels in rabbinic terminology with the New Testament’s “cup of benediction” and the “sons of the wedding” that support the joyful entourage of the “son of man” already recognized by Reimarus.6 However, while Hebrew (and Aramaic) bits and pieces continue to be found matching longknown Greek New Testament terminology, it is also becoming ever clearer that huge differences existed between the spiritual and social world of the Qumranites, plausibly 80% congruent with the Essenes, and that of the Pharisees, as also of the much less known Sadducees. This in turn has provided us with glimpses of the particular milieu(s) from which Jesus must have issued. David Flusser, who will be cited more often in this essay, has invented the 5 Albert Schweitzer, Geschichte der Leben-Jesu-Forschung (1906; repr. of 7th ed. 1966, Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck / Uni-Taschenbücher 1984; ET of 2nd ed., ed. John Bowden: The Quest of the Historical Jesus, London: SCM, 2000). Tomson, “‘I have not come to bring peace, but a sword’: The historical Jesus and his message,” Analecta bruxellensia 13 (2008) 114–126. 6 ‫מעשי תורה‬, 1QS 5:21; 4QFLor 1:7; ... ‫]וצדיק באמנתו יחיה[ פשרו על כל עושי התורה‬ ‫ואמנתם במורה הצדק‬, 1QpHab 7:17–8:3; ‫בני אור‬, 1QS 1:9; 1QM 1:1; ‫הון הרשעה‬, CD 6:15, 8:5 (see David Flusser, Judaism and the Origins of Christianity [Jerusalem: Magnes, 1988] 153–154: ‫ הון‬// ‫כוס של ברכה ;)ממון‬, b. Ber. 51a (see P. J. Tomson, Paul and the Jewish Law: Halakha in the Letters of the Apostle to the Gentiles [CRINT 3.1; Assen/Maastricht: Van Gorcum / Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990] 142); ‫בני חופה‬, t.Ber. 2:10 (see Tomson, Studies 244).

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label “semi-Essene” for this milieu, marrying as it did a “humane” message similar to that of the Pharisaic school of Hillel to a subdued dualism remotely reminiscent of Qumran but more congenially found in the Testament of Benjamin.7 If we enlarge the case file to include the very important element of halakha, such variegated items as “quasi-Hillelite” Sabbath leniency and openness to strangers can be added, along with “quasi-Essene” divorce rigorism and purity conservatism.8 Flusser found it commonplace to proclaim Jesus was a Jew and more to the point to ask what particular kind of Jew he was. Thus, having stared down the big questions at least for some time, we are ready to reconsider Jesus’ famous “parable of the sower” and to recognize it as a parable on “four kinds of soil” closely paralleling a parable of Rabbi Akiva on the “four kinds” of the Sukkot festival. Along our way, we shall also be able to grasp that Jesus was not the “average village Pharisee” employed as a “clerk at the Nazareth post office,” as Flusser liked to jest. Neither was Akiva a completely “normal rabbi,” for he distinguished himself, among other things, by his mystical reading of the Song of Songs – another feature he seems to have shared in common with Jesus.9 This is contrarious and paradoxical, for meanwhile Akiva and Jesus had come to belong to continents drifting apart.

II. Experts in Halakhah and in Aggadah Early rabbinic tradition was a tradition of learning and study. In this, it seems to have been a continuation of the learning tradition that was entertained and propagated by the Pharisees. This is witnessed, paradoxically, by the one known ex-Pharisee who has left us his writings, but who is traditionally understood as the champion of anti-Pharisaism: Paul.10 Once we recognize the drifting continents, however, it becomes more plausible to see Paul’s exegetical acrobatics, for example, as early examples of more developed techniques subsequently evidenced in rabbinic literature. That development included the creation of elaborate technical terminologies. But again, Qumran comes to our help in demonstrating the pre-Pauline existence of the key terms “midrash” and “talmud,” both characteristically meaning “study”; in a slightly

7

Flusser, Judaism and the Origins 469–489. For a summary see P. J. Tomson, “Jesus and His Judaism,” in The Cambridge Companion to Jesus, ed. Markus Bockmuehl (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001) 25–40. 9 Idem, “The Song of Songs in the Teachings of Jesus,” in Studies 235–252. 10 Idem, “The Epistles of Paul as a Source for the Historical Pharisees,” in Studies 581– 601. 8

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different meaning, “midrash” is already found in late biblical Hebrew. The rabbinic term “halakhah” is another specimen that in view of its likely Akkadian background may well have existed before Paul’s time, but there is as yet no evidence to confirm this. The term “aggadah” (on which more below) is similarly found only in rabbinic literature. In general, the use of such technical terminology is to be expected primarily in “school language,” communications between teachers and students and between colleagues. The use of “talmud” in a Qumran text is surprising and would seem to presuppose firsthand knowledge of Pharisaic tradition. This is understandable since it concerns a passage seemingly polemicising with Pharisaic sages.11 These glimpses from Paul and Qumran make it likely that a Pharisaic tradition of learning existed in the days of Jesus and Paul which was to find its way into rabbinic literature two centuries later. In general, however, the continued development on drifting continents should not make us lose our caution in applying rabbinic concepts to New Testament persons or matters. For a basic example, it seems fundamentally mistaken to speak of “Rabbi Jesus,” attributing to him the title used for later rabbis. This must be distinguished from the polite “rabbi,” master, by which disciples address John the Baptist and Jesus, according to the Gospels of Mark and John in particular. The use of the title “rabbi” for acknowledged sages appears in teachers from the late first century CE onwards. While Shammai and Hillel, called the “fathers of the world,” are indicated by their plain names and are not given the title, their students’ students are: Rabbi Eliezer and Rabbi Yehoshua.12 Thus “Rabbi Jesus” is a fundamental anachronism in the first place. In addition, however, there are elements clearly indicating that Jesus did not belong to the movement of the Pharisees, most clearly so his general prohibition on divorce.13 More difficult, but more relevant for us, is the question whether Jesus or even Paul could have known a term like “expert in halakhah,” ‫בקי בהלכה‬, used from the Mishnah onwards. The Aramaic-Hebrew epithet ‫ בקי‬means “expert,” “experienced,” “knowledgeable.”14 Thus a Jew who is under way by Sabbath eve and wishes to determine his eruv, his fictional dwelling place 11 Idem, “Halakha,” in Studies 3–6. The expressions ‫ דורשי החלקות‬and ‫תלמוד השקרים‬ are used together in a polemical passage in 4QpNah 2:2, 8 (cf. 1QH 2:32). ‫ מדרש‬is used in 1QS 8:15 and 4Qflor 1:14, contemporary with Sir 51:23, ‫בית מדרשי‬. In 2 Chr 13:22 and 24:27 ‫ מדרש‬is used in the sense of “book, record.” See Tomson, art. “Midrash,” in Brill Encyclopedia of Early Christianity, ed. Paul van Geest, Bert Jan Lietaert Peerbolte, and David Hunter; Leiden: Brill (forthcoming). 12 Idem, art. “Rabbi,” in Brill Encyclopedia of Early Christianity (forthcoming). 13 Idem, “Divorce Halakha in Ancient Judaism and Christianity,” in Studies 67–105. 14 Marcus Jastrow, A Dictionary of the Targumim, the Talmud Babli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature 185, s.v., ‫ ;בקי בקיא‬Michael Sokoloff, A Dictionary of Palestinian Jewish Aramaic (Ramat-Gan, Baltimore, and London: Bar-Ilan University Press and Johns Hopkins University Press, 20022) 110 s.v. ‫בקי‬.

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enabling him to travel double the allowed distance of 2,000 cubits, cannot do so if he is no “expert in halakhah” (m. ‘Erub. 4:8). Similarly, in an early second century CE exchange about a technical question to do with marriage law, one rabbi writes to another, ironically, “I was convinced you are an expert in the chambers of the Law, able to make an a fortiori syllogism…” (t. Ketub. 5:1, ‫)בקי בחדרי תורה‬. Within the shared tradition of learning and study, rabbis recognize the expertise of particular colleagues in specific legal subjects. It could have been the same among Pharisees, but here the evidence in terms of inner-Pharisaic testimonies is particularly slim. Could Paul’s apostrophe in Rom 7:2, “I speak to those who know the law,” contain an ironical echo of his own reputed expertise in legal matters? The legal expertise cited by Josephus and Acts regards the Pharisees as a group.15 Undoubtedly, halakhah was the most important and also the most difficult area of learning of the rabbis, as probably also of the Pharisees. The earliest rabbinic document to be redacted and written down, the Mishnah, has for its aim to formulate the halakhah as R. Yehudah the Prince taught it, editing and reformulating selected passages from earlier “mishnahs.”16 This is true even if the Mishnah contains a minor amount of aggadah or non-halakhic matter, especially towards the end of tractates, while the entirely non-halakhic tractate of ’Abot is more of an appendix.17 The halakhah of the rabbis evinces a fully developed, sophisticated terminology, although it often stems from different terminological traditions and the pertinent semantic value may vary. Rabbinic halakhah also evinces a number of conventional procedures of argument, the a fortiori argument being only one of the more basic and ancient examples. Although the halakhah of the rabbis was never monolithic and always involved discussion, as a whole it represents the truly authoritative and normative element of rabbinic Judaism. It was different with “aggadah,” a term of Hebrew-Aramaic origin which is also spelled “haggadah.” Its meaning is difficult to pinpoint, but appears to have evolved to that of “non-halakhic teaching” early on.18 Thus the best 15

Tomson, “What did Paul mean by ‘Those Who know the Law’?” in Studies 383–391; idem, “The Epistles of Paul as a Source,” in Studies 586, citing Josephus, Vita 191; B.J. 2.162; Ant. 18.15; Acts 5:34. 16 Jacob N. Epstein, Prolegomena ad litteras Tannaiticas: Mishna, Tosephta et Interpretationes Halachicas, ed. Ezra Z. Melamed (Jerusalem and Tel-Aviv: Magnes and Dvir, 1957; Hebr.) 59–159. 17 Abraham Goldberg, “The Mishna – A Study Book of Halakha,” in The Literature of the Sages, Part One: Oral Tora, Halakha, Mishna, Tosefta, Talmud, External Tractates, ed. Shmuel Safrai (CRINT 2.3.1; Assen and Maastricht: Van Gorcum / Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1987) 211–251; Myron B. Lerner, “The Tractate Avot,” ibid., 263–276. 18 Wilhelm Bacher, Die exegetische Terminologie der jüdischen Traditionsliteratur (1899; repr. Darmstadt : Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1965) 1.33–37; Marc Hirshman, “Aggadic Midrash,” in The Literature of the Sages, Second Part: Midrash and Tar-

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manuscript of the Tosefta reports that the housebound R. Yehoshua, c. 100, asks his disciples when they come from the beit midrash, “Whose Shabbat was it …, and from where did he start his haggadah?,” while the second-best manuscript reads: “…and on what did he preach?” – and in both cases, the continuation renders the specifically non-halakhic homilies of R. Elazar ben Azarya.19 This meaning is also obvious in the plural aggadot as part of a usual tripartite curriculum of rabbinic education: “midrash, halakhot, and aggadot.”20 The rabbinic midrash collections do contain a range of exegetical terminologies, starting from the distinct jargon of the two midrash schools named after the early second century CE rabbis, Yishmael and Akiva.21 However, their application in the field of aggadah is much less stringent. Indeed, the rabbis did not consider aggadah to be normative, although it was a recognized separate field of learning.22 So much appears from the knowledge attributed to those recognized as specialists in aggadah. While there are two expressions for this, it seems we are not to consider these well-defined technical terms. The rarer phrase parallels the “expert” in halakhah: ‫בקי באגדה‬, “expert in aggadah.” In the Bavli, it is once addressed to R. Yehoshua ben Levi when he is asked the question why the “second Ten Words” mention “good” as opposed to the “first” ones (Deut 5:16, cf Exod 20:12).23 The more frequent expression, found in Palestinian Amoraic sources, is ‫בעל אגדה‬, “master of aggadah”; it reminds us of Joseph, the “master of dreams” (‫ )בעל החלומות‬of Gen 37:19. In two consecutive statements, it is said that the master of aggadah “does not prohibit and allow, nor declares unclean and clean,” but neither does his more modest “treasure” isolate him from the company of common people.24 Thus the third century CE R. Shmuel bar Naḥman, who is considered a “master of aggadah,” is asked questions like, “In what way was light created?” or, “What does the verse mean, Who rides upon the clouds?” (Ps

gum; Liturgy, Poetry, Mysticism; Contracts, Inscriptions, Ancient Science; and the Languages of Rabbinic Literature, ed. S. Safrai, Z. Safrai, J. Schwartz, and P. J. Tomson (CRINT 2.3b; Assen: Van Gorcum; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2006) 107–132, here 109–115. 19 t. Soṭah 7:9 according to ms. Vienna has ‫היכן היתה הגדה‬, while ms. Erfurt has ‫ובמה דרש‬, and both mss. continue, ‫ועוד )אחרת( דרש‬. 20 m. Ned. 4:3; y. Šeqal. 5:1, 48c; ’Abot R. Nat. B 45, 64a. See Menahem Kister, Studies in Avot de-Rabbi Nathan: Text, Redaction and Interpretation (Jerusalem: The Hebrew University and Yad Izhak Ben-Zvi, 1998; Hebr.) 42–44. 21 Menahem Kahana, “The Halakhic Midrash Collections,” in The Literature of the Sages, Second Part, 3–105, here 17–35. 22 Cf. Moshe D. Herr, “Aggadah,” in EncJud (1971) 2.354–355. 23 b. B. Qam. 55a. 24 y. Hor. 3:5, 48c.

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68:5), and, “What does the verse mean, Your righteousness, o God, reaches the high heavens?” (Ps 71:19).25 Apparently, such “theological” or metaphysical questions occasioned by biblical verses were a typical subject for which to consult a “master of aggadah.” These questions were not normative for behavior, but they were thought important for faith and belief. As it is said in a Tannaitic midrash: “Halakhot are the substance of the Tora … aggadot move the heart of a person like wine.” And in another one: “The homilists of aggadah (‫ )דורשי הגדות‬say, Do you wish to know Him who spoke and the world was created? Study aggadah, for by doing so you get to know Him who spoke and the world was created, ‘and you will cling to his ways’ (Deut 11:22).”26 This is where parables fit in. Closely related to fables, a popular wisdom genre widespread in the ancient Near Eastern and Graeco-Roman world, parables explain grand, abstract subjects in concrete little stories. As such, they eminently classify as part of aggadah. As evidenced by Palestinian rabbinic literature and the Synoptic Gospels, parables along with fables were staple diet in the teaching both of the rabbis and of Jesus – and therefore most likely also of the Pharisees. David Flusser observed a change from the original function of parables as a medium of popular wisdom teaching to that of illustration in the aggadic midrash. This is not to be seen as a “degradation” of the genre, as Flusser seems to have implied, but as its gradual specialization alongside the evolution of rabbinic midrash. Links with midrash can be observed from the early parables onwards.27 To be sure, aggadah gave occasion to disputes no less than halakhah. Certain rabbis could be recognized by some as “experts” or “masters” of aggadah, whereas they were not by others. In a famous exchange cited in the Bavli, R. Akiva interprets the plural “thrones” on which the Holy One is sitting according to Dan 7:9 as “One for Him and the other for David,” i.e., the Messiah. Whereupon R. Elazar ben Azarya exclaims: “Akiva! What is your business in aggadah? Go study the laws of torts and roof impurity!” (where he was supposed to be an expert). Instead, Elazar proposes a less “dangerous” explanation of the plural thrones: “One for a throne and the other for a footstool.” The harsh rebuttal is remarkable, since Akiva was to be known not only as an “expert” in halakhah, but also as an “organizer” of 25 Gen. R. 1.3, Theodor-Albeck 20; Gen. R. 12.9, Theodor-Albeck 108; Lev. R., Emor 31.1, Margulies 614. 26 Sipre Deut., Ha’azinu 317 and ‘Eqeb 49; Finkelstein 359 and 115 (in Midrash Tannaim 11:22, the introduction to the latter midrash reads: ‫)דורשי רשומות אומרים‬. 27 Tomson, “Fables, Proverbs, Parables, Allegories: Ancient Border-Crossing Lore,” in Parables and Fables in the Graeco-Roman World, ed. Jonathan Pater, Martijn Stoutjesdijk, and Albertina Oegema (WUNT; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, forthcoming). On Flusser, cf. Tomson, “David Flusser, Die rabbinischen Gleichnisse und der Gleichniserzähler Jesus (1981),” JSTR-NTT 71 (2017) 200–209 (in Dutch).

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“midrash, halakhot and aggadot.” However, he also was known as a teacher of mystical interpretations and theosophical speculations, and some of these may have been unacceptable for such a prominent rabbi as Elazar ben Azarya. As is well-known, Akiva was also said to have acclaimed Shimon bar Kosiba as Messiah, calling him “bar Kokhba” after the “star” (‫ )כוכב‬of Num 24:17, while his colleague Yehoshua ben Torta disagreed.28 We may doubt whether a term like “expert in aggadah” was known in Jesus’ surroundings. To a lesser extent this regards “master of aggadah” in view of its apparent biblical background. But even if we cannot be sure about the actual terminology used, we are justified to ask ourselves whether he could be considered a specialist in aggadah in a way similar to rabbis Akiva, Yehoshua ben Levi, and Shmuel bar Naḥman.

III. “Four Kinds of…” A midrashic homily for the feast of Tabernacles or Sukkot attributed to R. Akiva gives various interpretations of the four attributes for the festival mentioned in Lev 23:40, “On the first day you shall take the fruit of beautiful trees, branches of palm trees, boughs of leafy trees, and willows of the brook, and you shall rejoice before the Lord your God for seven days.” Typical of rabbinic exegesis, five alternative interpretations are offered of the “four kinds”: they refer to four attributes of God, or of the Patriarchs, the Matriarchs, or the sages. Finally, the four kinds are said to apply to Israel: “The fruit of beautiful trees” – these are Israel: just as the etrog (citron) has both fragrance and nourishment, there are Israelites that are both masters of Torah and do good works. “Branches of palm trees” – these are Israel: just as the date has nourishment but no fragrance, there are Israelites that are masters of Torah and do no good works. “Boughs of leafy trees” – these are Israel: just as the myrtle has fragrance but no nourishment, there are Israelites that do good works but have no Torah. “Willows of the brook” – these are Israel: just as the willow has neither taste nor fragrance, there are Israelites that have neither Torah nor good works.

28 Rebuttal: b. Sanh. 38b, cf. 67b; b. Ḥag. 14a. “Organizer”: y. Šeqal. 5:1, 48c, “R. Akiva who organized (‫ )שהתקין‬midrash, halakhot, and haggadot.” Mystic: t. Ḥag. 2:2–4; see Christopher Morray-Jones, “The Ascent into Paradise (2 Cor 12:1–12), Paul’s Merkava Vision and Apostolic Call,” in Second Corinthians in the Perspective of Late Second Temple Judaism, ed. Reimund Bieringer, Emmanuel Nathan, Didier Pollefeyt, Peter J. Tomson (CRINT 14; Leiden: Brill, 2014) 245–285, esp. 265–268. Prominence of Elazar ben Azarya: m. Zebaḥ. 1:3; m. Yad. 3:5; 4:1. Bar Kokhba: y. Ta‘an. 4:5, 68d; Ekha R. 2.4.

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Then the Holy One said: to throw them away is not possible, but let them be made into one bundle, so that they may compensate one for the other. Therefore Moses reminds Israel, saying, “You shall take for yourselves” (Lev 23:40).29

The “good works” mentioned are frequent both in rabbinic literature and in the New Testament; in Matt 5:16, for instance, they include almsgiving, prayer, and fasting. The “binding into one bundle” of course alludes to the rite of “swaying” the etrog together with the palm leaf (lulav) and the branches of myrtle and willow during the seven days of Sukkot. The homiletic point, brilliantly made, reminds us of the temporary unification of “all Israel” thanks to the festival rites that is also expressed in an ancient set of halakhot and lauded as such by R. Yehoshua ben Levi.30 Underlying Akiva’s elaborate midrashic homily is the pattern of “four kinds of…” that is central to a series of sayings gathered up mainly in the rabbinic tractates ’Avot and ’Avot de-Rabbi Nathan.31 The pattern is based on the combined presence or absence of two complementary or contrasting qualities, say A and B, yielding four permutations: A + B, A + 0, B + 0, and 0 + 0. Some examples: Four kinds (‫ )ארבע מדות‬of constitutions: easy to get angry and easy to be appeased – their advantage is cancelled by their disadvantage; hard to get angry and hard to be appeased – their disadvantage is cancelled by their advantage; hard to get angry and easy to appease – a saint; easy to get angry and hard to appease – a wicked person. Four kinds of disciples: quick to learn and quick to forget – their advantage is cancelled by their disadvantage; slow to learn and slow to forget – their disadvantage is cancelled by their advantage; quick to learn and slow to forget – the wise; slow to learn and quick to forget – this is the worst part. Four kinds of those who sit before the sages: the sponge, the funnel, the wine-sieve, and the winnow. The sponge: it sponges it all up. The funnel: this side in, that side out. The wine-sieve: it throws the wine away and keeps the dregs. The winnow: it gets rid of the dust and keeps the flour.32

There is an unmistakable tinge of irony to these sayings, and moreover they appear to be another component of the transcultural wisdom tradition of the ancient Near Eastern and Graeco-Roman world. On the one hand, the “four kinds” pattern belongs to the genre of enumeration sayings evidenced in the biblical proverbs of Agur (Prov 30:15–31); on the other, it seems to relate to the predilection for four-fold typologies found in Epicurean wisdom say29

Pesiq. Rab Kah. 27.9, velaqaḥtem, Mandelbaum 414–416. Anonymous: Lev. R. 30.9– 12, Margulies 707–710. 30 Good works: see also Acts 9:36; Eph 2:10; 1 Tim passim. Set of halakhot: m. Hag. 1:8–3:6, see Epstein, Prolegomena (above n. 16) 46–52. R. Yehoshua ben Levi: y. Ḥag. 3:6, 79c. 31 m. ’Abot 5:10–16; ’Abot R. Nat. A 40 and B 45, Schechter 63b–64b (Becker–Berner 278–282, 402–403). 32 m. ’Abot 5:11, 15. The order of the second saying varies in ’Abot R. Nat. A and B.

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ings.33 The pertinent, nicely arranged chapter in tractate ’Avot begins by enumerating things that come in tens such as “ten words” of creation and “ten trials” of Abraham, then passes to sevens, then fours, and ends in threes. Rabbinic tradition recognizes this as an ancient way of arranging oral tradition: the “men of the great assembly” or other ancient sages are said to have “arranged the (oral) Torah by numbers.” The last part of ’Avot de-Rabbi Nathan, paralleling chapter 5 of ’Avot, consists entirely of enumeration sayings, though in a very messy state of redaction.34 Furthermore, a famous midrash in the Pesaḥ Haggadah enumerates four types of sons asking their Pesaḥ question; it seems to derive from the Mekhilta.35 Here, the “four kinds” pattern has found a didactical function in the liturgical narrative of the Seder night. A didactic intention is also evident in the ’Avot chapter, which originally concluded the tractate. It is most prominent in the “four kinds” sayings, which Myron B. Lerner thinks are the crux of the chapter and may be the reason for its inclusion in the tractate.36 The smart effect of the “four kinds” pattern is made explicit in the first two sayings quoted above, using the language of “advantage,” “disadvantage,” and “cancelling.” In the third saying the pattern remains implicit and instead is represented by the contrasting little allegories of sponge, funnel, sieve and winnow, whose irony makes students smile. The preceding occasions us to take another look at R. Akiva’s Sukkot homily. Even more so than in the Pesaḥ Haggadah, it integrates the fourfold pattern in a literary context that produces a message on a higher level, here again exploiting the allegorical potential. The binding together of the “four kinds” symbolizes how the ritual of the festival surmounts the differences in Torah study and practice that normally prevail among Jews and makes them into one celebrating community. This puts us in a good position to address Jesus’ parable of the four kinds of soil, where similar things happen. For expediency’s sake let us use the brief version rendered by Luke:

33

Henry A. Fischel, Rabbinic Literature and Graeco-Roman Philosophy; A Study of Epicurea and Rhetorica in Early Midrashic Writings (Leiden: Brill, 1973) 33, while discussing “the four in paradise” of tractate Ḥagiga; cf. 70, Ben Zoma’s quasi-Stoic fourfold paradoxon, and 91, Ben Azzai’s saying of Two bona and Two mala. 34 m. ’Abot 5. Ancient ordering principle: y. Šeqal. 5, 48c, ‫שעשו את התורה ספורות‬ ‫ספורות‬. ’Abot R. Nat.: version A 31–41, version B 36–48, Schechter 45b–67b (Becker– Berner 232–291, 371–409). See Kister, Studies in Avot de-Rabbi Nathan 138–142. 35 Shmuel Safrai and Ze’ev Safrai, Haggadah of the Sages: The Passover Haggadah (Jerusalem: Carta, 1998; Hebr.) 119–123; Ernst D. Goldschmidt, The Passover Haggadah: Its Sources and History (Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 1960; Hebr.) 22–29. 36 Lerner, “The Tractate Avot,” (above n. 17) 266–267, 273.

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A sower went out to sow his seed. As he sowed, some fell on the path and was trampled on, and the birds of the air ate it up. Some fell on the rock, and as it grew up, it withered for lack of moisture. Some fell among thorns, and the thorns grew with it and choked it. Some fell into good soil, and when it grew, it produced a hundredfold. (Luke 8:5–8)

What strikes the eye at once is the flowing narrative that envelops and carries the “four kinds” pattern. It is in fact a parabolic narrative integrating the pattern. Indeed, the parables attributed to Jesus show he must have been an accomplished narrator with a large knowledge of fable and parable material. These aspects were emphasized by Flusser, who also recognized the similarity with the rabbinic “four kinds” pattern, proposing to speak of “the parable of the four kinds of soil.” He showed that the image of plants growing as a metaphor for humans is ancient and is found among other places in 4 Ezra 9. The use made of the “four kinds” pattern appears especially from the explanation of the parable which follows and which Flusser thinks originally belonged to the parable, while it also shows traces of subsequent redactional elaboration.37 If we follow Flusser’s lead and paraphrase the parable using elements from the explanation part, it appears that the first kind of soil, the path, is totally unfit, for the birds peck at the seed and swallow it up. The second kind, a layer of soil on rock bottom, sees the seed joyfully budding and growing, till it withers for lack of a root. The third kind, conversely, does allow the seed to strike a strong root, but the rivalling thorns and thistles prevent it from branching out and suffocate it. Only in the fourth kind, the “good soil,” is the seed able to strike a root and to grow, producing a hundredfold. This last expression seems borrowed from the story of Isaac’s sowing in Gen 26:12. On this reading of the parable and its explanation, the two qualities permutating in the four kinds are “to strike root” and “to branch out.” Underlying this is the metaphor of plants and growth which has roots in the Bible, figures at Qumran, and is developed in rabbinic sayings. In one saying attributed to R. Elazar ben Azarya, the words of the wise are compared with plants that “grow and multiply”; in another, it is stated that he whose wisdom is greater than his deeds is like a tree with many branches and few roots that is blown over by the wind, but one with more deeds than wisdom is like a tree with many roots and few branches that all the world’s winds cannot blow over. The same structure, but using the different imagery of building, is found in a saying of Elisha ben Abuyah: one who has good deeds plus Torah is like him who lays a foundation of stone blocks and builds on it with clay bricks – many waters will not destroy it; but with Torah and no good deeds, it is like building with stone blocks on a foundation of clay bricks:

37 David Flusser, Die rabbinischen Gleichnisse und der Gleichniserzähler Jesus, 1. Das Wesen der Gleichnisse (Bern, Frankfurt/Main and Las Vegas: Lang, 1981) 63, 126–128.

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even a little water will destroy it.38 This last saying closely resembles Jesus’ saying which states that hearing his words and doing them is like building one’s house on rock so winds and rain cannot make it fall down, whereas hearing but not doing them is building on sand, and the house will be destroyed by wind and rain (Matt 7:24–27; Luke 6:47–49). Summing up now, the parable ascribed to Jesus seamlessly integrates the “four kinds” pattern, along with the imagery of plants growing roots and branches, in a flowing narrative that vividly pictures the hazards of the seed in the different kinds of soil and the ideal conditions under which it can both strike root and branch out, and thus bear fruit abundantly. It is the work of a narrator who knows how to pick and combine his subject matter and to shape it to fit his purpose. As we shall insist in a moment, it also produces a message on another, higher level. All of this seems to betray the touch of a “master” of aggadah.

IV. Jesus’ Message and the Kingdom of God If we now want to pass to the higher level and address the message of Jesus’ parable, we must draw in the parts that follow in the text, i.e., the “interpolated” discussion about the parable and its extensive explanation. Their authenticity and meaning are heavily disputed, which may not be unrelated to the fact that the Synoptic Gospels differ widely in their treatment of the matter (Mark 4:10–12, 13–20; Matt 13:10–17, 18–23; Luke 8:9–10, 11–15). Briefest, as usual, is Luke. He basically follows Mark, leaving out such particular notices as “when he (Jesus) was alone, those around him along with (the twelve…),” and abbreviating the explanation part while also twice adding the “heart” as the place where the seed is to land and bear fruit. Matthew also adds the “heart” once and otherwise abbreviates the explanation section, but more importantly, he greatly expands the discussion part, extensively repeating Mark’s Isaiah quotation and adding a piece about the “prophets and righteous people” who longed to see what the disciples now see. It seems that Matthew has loaded the discussion section with the polemics that are found all over this Gospel and that reflect the clash with the “Pharisees,” i.e. presumably the early rabbis.39 The outcome is that Jesus tells parables precisely in order that “this people” will not understand and get healed, which is the 38 Qumran: 1QH 8; cf. 1QS 8:5, ‫מטעת עולם‬, the phrase from Isa 60:21. Elazar ben Azarya: t. Soṭah 7:11; m. ’Abot 3:17; ’Abot R. Nat. A 22 / B 34, Schechter 38a (Becker–Berner 192, 368). Elisha ben Abuyah: ’Abot R. Nat. A 24, cf. B 35, Schechter 39a (Becker–Berner 196, 369). 39 Cf. Tomson, “Shifting Perspectives in Matthew,” and “Didache, Matthew, and Barnabas,” in Studies 279–296, 501–532.

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opposite of what one logically would expect of parables being told. The question is how this outcome reflects on Luke and Mark. If we leave Matthew on one side, the picture that emerges from Mark and Luke is more coherent. One important difference is in the details in Mark that picture the situation and that Luke omits. These are found both in the discussion and explanation parts of the parable that Luke condenses and in the wider narrative context that Luke does not have at all. The narrative in Mark itself is coherent. It gives us the understanding that Jesus taught the crowd “many things in parables,” “as they were able to hear it,” even that “he did not speak to them except in parables,” but also that “he explained everything in private to his disciples” (Mark 4:2, 34). The same is stated more pointedly in the discussion part: “When he was alone, those who were around him along with the twelve asked him about the parables, and he said to them: To you has been given the secret of the kingdom of God, but for those outside, everything comes in parables” (Mark 4:10–11). The picture that so far arises from these Markan details has nothing of the radical polemics in Matthew; nor is it contradicted in any way by Luke’s version. It is about a teacher who presents things in parables to the crowd while explaining them directly to his inner circle. These are privy to the secret (Luke: “secrets”) of the Kingdom of God, initiates to the hidden aspect of Jesus’ message. In this sense Klaus Haacker has explained that by the key phrase, τὸ μυστήριον τῆς βασιλείας τοῦ θεοῦ, “Nicht etwas Unbegreifliches, sondern eine verborgene Wirklichkeit ist gemeint.” This interpretation is confirmed by Joseph Fitzmyer’s claim that Luke’s plural μυστήρια “is no less eschatological than the Marcan singular” but “may reflect the contemporary Palestinian use of rāzê ’El, ‘secrets of God’, known from various Qumran texts.” To this we must add that instead of the phrase “eschatological,” we should speak here of apocalyptic. The very expression ‫רזי אל‬, secrets of God, shows that apocalyptic is both about the future and about hidden realities.40 The crux interpretum41 is in the quote from Isaiah 6:9–10 that concludes the discussion part in Mark and, again abbreviated, in Luke: “For those outside, everything comes (γίνεται) in parables, in order that (ἵνα) ‘they may indeed look, but not perceive, and may indeed listen, but not understand; so that they may not turn again and be forgiven’” (Mark 4:11–12; cf. Luke 8:9– 10). Joachim Jeremias has shown that the Markan quote significantly differs 40

Klaus Haacker, “Erwägungen zu Mc IV 11,” NovT 14 (1972) 219–225. Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Gospel according to Luke (AB 28; New York: Doubleday, 1981) 1.708, citing 1QpHab 7:8; 1QS 3:23; 1QM 3:9; 16:11. On apocalyptic: Christopher Rowland and Christopher Morray-Jones, The Mystery of God: Early Jewish Mysticism and the New Testament (CRINT 12; Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2009) 13–31; Joel Marcus, “Mark 4:10– 12 and Marcan Epistemology,” JBL 103 (1984) 557–574. 41 Craig A. Evans, “The Function of Isaiah 6:9–10 in Mark and John,” NovT 24 (1982) 124–138, here 126.

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from the Masoretic and Septuagint versions, while it agrees with the targumic version, which he thinks supports the authenticity of the passage. However, it cannot refer to the parable or parables in general, for their aim is to clarify, not to obscure. It must have originated on a different occasion and been inserted here, thus supporting what Jeremias calls Mark’s “Verstockungstheorie,” i.e. the mistaken idea that Jesus tells his parables, taken to mean “riddles,” in order to prevent the people from understanding. The explanation part that follows (Mark 4:13–20) shows many signs of ecclesial usage and as a whole is late. Fitzmyer rejects Jeremias’ argument from the targums because these date from the fourth-fifth century CE. Flusser agrees in part with Jeremias. Mark’s “Verstockungsmotiv” does not fit Jesus’ parables at all, nor would they fit the rabbinic parables, because their aim is to clarify. Flusser goes as far as to doubt Mark’s priority in general. More coherently, he thinks, Luke reveals the aim of the parables: the disciples ask, “What does the parable mean,” and Jesus explains: “This is the parable…” (Luke 8:9, 11).42 We must ask, however, to what extent these various efforts to make sense of Mark and Luke are necessary to start with. As Fitzmyer notes, the ἵνα introducing the Isaiah quote in Mark and Luke may be understood either final, “in order that,” as translated in the above with the NRSV, or consecutive: “so that.”43 Hence the “Verstockung” need not necessarily be intended. Supposing otherwise would be importing the intentions of Matthew, where the Isaiah quote is awkwardly repeated in a version according with the Septuagint, thus “fulfilling” the “prophecy” that Jesus has just spoken in the wording of Isaiah copied from Mark (Matt 13:13, 14–15). More generally, we should realize that Matthew quickly gained dominance in the Church, overshadowing Luke and all but replacing Mark. Those curious about Origen’s opinion on Mark, for instance, must consult his Matthew commentary! To the extent that the “Verstockungstheorie” did slip into extant Mark and Luke, as Jeremias and Flusser assume, it may well witness to Matthew’s overwhelming influence. Leaving that discussion for what it is, let us return to the apparent coherent sense of Mark’s narrative and its shortened Lukan recension. Jesus teaches in parables to “those outside” because they cannot understand, while explaining everything to his inner circle, those who share “the secret(s) of the Kingdom of God.” This sounds very much like an esoteric strand existing within a larger movement. Fitzmyer objects: “What is intended is not an esoteric gnosis given to some closed group, but a knowledge that is to be broadcast,” and 42

Joachim Jeremias, Die Gleichnisse Jesu (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 19657) 9–14, 75–77. On the targumic background see also Evans, “Function of Isaiah 6:9– 10”; Fitzmyer, Luke 1.709; Flusser, Gleichnisse 235–263, 273–274. 43 Fitzmyer, Luke 1.709, himself preferring the final sense. Similarly DBAG s.v. ἵνα no. 3, citing “The ἵνα of Mk 4:12 = Lk 8:10, so much in dispute” and referring to BDR §391.5.

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so does Flusser: “Eine solche Vorstellung steht sogar im Gegensatz zur Gedankenwelt Jesu,” explaining, in partial disagreement with Fitzmyer: “Der Begriff ‘Geheimnisse Gottes’ (raze ’el) ist für die essenische Welt typisch.”44 It is correct that Jesus’ mission was to “proclaim the good news” of the nearness of God’s Kingdom (Mark 1:14–15), not to found a secret society. However, some of his actions do have a secretive aspect suggestive of an esoteric involvement. Aside from his public appearances, we get glimpses of Jesus’ mystical experiences: the vision of his calling at his baptism, his prayer sessions through the night reported especially in Luke, and the transfiguration where the disciples were initiated to the vision of his heavenly glory.45 In his understanding as told by Mark, the advance of the Kingdom had both a public and a hidden aspect.46 This was not at all exceptional in late Second Temple Judaism. Mysticalapocalyptic trends were found not only in Qumran and related Essene circles, but also among the most important early rabbis. Both the Tosefta and the Yerushalmi report a chain of tradition of apocalyptic-mystical teaching running from Rabban Yoḥanan ben Zakkai through R. Yehoshua to R. Akiva and his colleagues, and on to R. Akiva’s disciple, Ḥananyah ben Kinai. It is associated with the story of “the four who ascended to paradise,” i.e. Shimon ben Azzai, R. Shimon ben Zoma, Elisha ben Abuyah, and R. Akiva – another fourfold typology, incidentally. This teaching was not meant for the community at large but was given apart from public teaching. Thus in spite of reservations by Peter Schäfer and those following him, Judaism in the first and second centuries appears to have accommodated an important strand of mystical-apocalyptic contemplation and practice alongside “public” teaching and prayer that was shared both by Pharisees and rabbis and by Jesus and his disciples. However, this apocalyptic-mystical tradition appears to have been in serious decline among the Jews after the Bar Kokhba war. A propos of the chain of tradition running till Ḥananyah ben Kinai, the anonymous Yerushalmi comments: “From then on, their mind was no longer clear.” This remarkable statement should be read in light of the fact that Jewish apocalypses are no longer found from that time onwards. It seems that from the Bar Kokhba generation on, apocalyptic mysticism went underground among the rabbis, presumably in the rebound of the atrocities of the war and the messianic expectations that preceded it, those of Akiva included. Only in the late or post-talmudic periods do we have indications again of mystic-apocalyptic

44

Fitzmyer, Luke 1.707–708; Flusser, Gleichnisse 274. Mystical aspects in the Gospels: Rowland and Morray-Jones, The Mystery of God (above n. 40) 99–136. 46 Evans, “Function of Isaiah 6:9–10,” 132–133 concludes that Mark meant that “Jesus’ parables were designed to conceal the truth.” A similar conclusion is founded on comparison with Qumran texts by Marcus, “Mark 4:10–12 and Marcan Epistemology.” 45

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texts and activities in rabbinic circles. The vicissitudes of war are an important factor in the continued drifting apart of the Jewish and Christian tectonic plates.47 In Jesus’ day, the horrors of the Bar Kokhba war were still unthinkable. But neither was there a benign climate that welcomed apocalyptically inspired social movements. It was certainly not better for Christians in 75 CE Rome, who may have been Mark’s intended readers. For Jesus as remembered in Mark, the fate of John the Baptist – his one-time teacher recognized as a prophet by the crowds but arbitrarily executed by Herod Antipas – was paradigmatic. And although a virtual pacifist, Jesus was not politically naive while propounding his message.48 Nor was he a middle of the road “master of aggadah.” Indeed, his aggadah had a strong mystical-theological interest to do with the advent of the Kingdom of God, in which his own role was discreetly implicated. Meanwhile, he most probably shared his preference for parables with the Pharisees, while not belonging to their movement. And the crowd loved it, although they could not see to the bottom of it. Thus we are told how, integrating both extensive aggadic expertise and profound apocalyptic inspiration, he presents them with the parable of the four kinds of soil as a veiled expression of his awareness of the slow advance of God’s Kingdom, sabotaged as it is by rivalling ideologies, hampered by repressive political setbacks, restrained by individual social success, but thank God also sometimes striking root and branching out to produce the lavish fruit of justice and lovingkindness.49

47

t. Ḥag. 2:2–7; y. Ḥag. 2:1, 77b top (‫)מיכן והילך אין דעתן נקייה‬. The “four in paradise”: Fischel, above n. 33. Reservations: Peter Schäfer, The Origins of Jewish Mysticism (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009). Decline: Tomson, “Apocalyptic, Resistance, and Introversion after the Jewish Revolts of 66–136 CE,” in The Joshua Schwartz Volume, ed. Eyal Baruch and Avraham Faust (= Jerusalem and Eretz Israel 12–13; Ramat Gan: The Ingeborg Rennert Center for Jerusalem Studies, Bar-Ilan University, forthcoming). 48 Jesus, the Baptist, and politics: Mark 1:14; 6:14–29; 11:27–33; Luke 7:18–28; 13:31– 33; 20:1–8; Josephus, Ant. 18:116–119. 49 My sincere thanks are due to Dr. Roger Aus for inviting me to write for this volume and for his painstaking editorial work, and to Dr. Matthijs den Dulk for sharing his perceptive comments with me.

Rabbinic Meshalim and the Parables of Jesus. The Pattern of the Master and the Appointed Overseer Lieve M. Teugels “The children of Israel called it ‘man,’ and it was like the seed of ‘gad,’ white” (Exod 16:31) (…) It is similar to a word of haggadah, which draws the heart of man. Mekhilta deRabbi Ishmael Vayassa 61

The above midrash connects the manna – the food of Israel in the desert – with haggadah. Haggadah is thus presented as spiritual food. This interpretation features a typically rabbinic play with words: ‫( גד‬a sort of seed, gad) and ‫( לבן‬laban, white) are read as references to ‫( הגדה‬haggadah) and “their heart” (liban). Indeed, this playful reading of the biblical text is itself part of the vast haggadic tradition. Without acquaintance with the haggadah, the Jewish narrative tradition that flourished before, during and after the time of Jesus, narratives in the New Testament cannot be understood.2 This holds especially for the parables that are attributed to Jesus and are preserved in the New Testament and the apocryphal gospels. Some parables are found in the Hebrew Bible, but most comparable parabolic material is found in the rabbinic literature. There is no other post-biblical Jewish corpus, contemporary or predating the New Testament, which contains parables that resemble in any way the parables of the NT gospels. As always when dealing with rabbinic material in comparison with the New Testament, there is the problem of chronology. The oldest rabbinic works postdate the NT by some 200 years at least: the Mishnah and the tannaitic midrashim received their final redaction in the beginning of the third century CE. I will not repeat all the arguments given in past scholarship why (early) rabbinic 1 I discuss this text in Lieve M. Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot. An Annotated Edition and Translation of the Parables in Mekhilta de Rabbi Ishmael and Mekhilta de Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2019) 351–357. It can be debated whether this allegorical reading is an actual mashal, a parable, as will be studied in this chapter. This is not relevant for this paper, but in the book I explain why I have included this and similar allegorical readings that resemble the interpretations of Philo rather than most rabbinic meshalim. 2 Cf. Roger David Aus, Weihnachtsgeschichte, barmherziger Samariter, verlorener Sohn. Studien zu ihrem jüdischen Hintergrund (Berlin: Institut Kirche und Judentum, 1988) 7 and passim.

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literature is nevertheless relevant for the study of the NT.3 After perusing the rabbinic parables quoted in this paper, it will be evident that they are relevant: the similarities are simply too evident. Could it then be that the NT influenced rabbinic literature? I don’t believe any rabbinic parable directly influenced Jesus or the other way around. What I do see, studying the material, is that the parables of the “early Jewish-Christian” works4 (the NT, the apocryphal gospels, and other works such as the Shepherd of Hermas) are cut from the same wood as the rabbinic parables. On the other hand, each tradition, even each parable, has its own specific focus, content and form. These are dependent on its function and message. And here we can see a major difference between the majority of the rabbinic parables, also known by the Hebrew term meshalim,5 and the parables of Jesus, without throwing all of the parables in one “corpus” on a heap.

3 Many titles can be quoted here. Some particularly influential works are listed in the following. I want to emphasize that especially Strack-Billerbeck and Fiebig’s intentions were supersessionst: they did not respect the rabbinic parables for what they are, but mainly studied them as a foil against which Jesus’ parables stand out as a shining beacon of light. Nevertheless, the fact that they saw the relevance of the rabbinic material was groundbreaking in their time. (Hermann L. Strack and) Paul Billerbeck, Kommentar zum Neuen Testament aus Talmud und Midrasch 1–6 (München: Beck, 1928); Paul Fiebig, Altjüdische Gleichnisse und die Gleichnisse Jesu (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1904); Paul Fiebig, Die Gleichnisreden Jesu im Lichte der rabbinischen Gleichnisse des neutestamentlichen Zeitalters: Ein Beitrag zum Streit um die “Christusmythe” und eine Widerlegung der Gleichnistheorie Jülichers (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1912); David Flusser, Die rabbinischen Gleichnisse und der Gleichniserzähler Jesus. 1. Teil. Das Wesen der Gleichnisse (Bern: Peter Lang, 1981); Brad Young, The Parables: Jewish Tradition and Christian Interpretation (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1998); Robert M. Johnston, “Parabolic Interpretations Attributed to Tannaim” (Hartford, CT, Ph.D. diss., Hartford Seminary, 1977); H. K. McArthur and R. M. Johnston, They Also Taught in Parables: Rabbinic Parables from the First Centuries of the Christian Era (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 1990). 4 I adopt this term from Roger Aus (“der ersten Judenchristen,” ibid.) for want of a better term. I am generally hesitant to use the term “Christian” for texts in the New Testament because “Christian” is usually taken to involve a developed Christology. Taking the term christos as the Greek equivalent of mashiaḥ, messiah, I think that Jesus was considered by his followers as a messiah (like Bar Kochba a century later), whereby messiah does not necessarily involve a divine identity. The term “early Jewish-Christian” is therefore just shorthand for the texts that issued from the early followers of the Jewish teacher Jesus. See about this very topical subject Peter J. Tomson, The Image of the Judaeo-Christians in Ancient Jewish and Christian Literature: Papers Delivered at the Colloquium of the Institutum Iudaicum, Brussels, ed. Doris Lambers-Petry (Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament 158; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003); Annette Yoshiko Reed, Jewish-Christianity and the History of Judaism (TSAJ 171; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2018). 5 The name “mashal” and the main characteristics of the rabbinic mashal will be further explained in the first part of this paper in the section “The rabbinic midrashic parable.”

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It has been demonstrated by many scholars that most rabbinic meshalim, even the earliest ones, have an exegetical function: they are used in the context of the interpretation of Scripture, i.e, midrash.6 In many parables of Jesus such an exegetical function is not evident: he used parables to broadcast other messages. Depending on the parable, these could be ideological, polemical, eschatological, even political. To make things more complicated: the rabbinic parables also contain such messages. The main difference is, therefore, packaging: the rabbinic parables are presented as biblical interpretation, midrash.7 But then midrash is much more than the simple explanation of difficult words or sentences. Midrash is also a vehicle for ideological, polemical, eschatological and political teaching. Yet the different package is essential. Arnold Goldberg greatly emphasized the notions of “form” and “function.”8 Rabbinic parables have a specific form because of their exegetical-interpretative function. The form serves the function. This is why rabbinic parables as a rule contain an explicit nimshal, an application. The nimshal is necessary to make the relevance of the mashal for the midrash, the interpretation, clear. An additional reason is that midrash, at least as we have it, is a literary phenomenon. There are only seldom references in these literary texts to a live situation of study or teaching – even though these occur. In Jesus’ parables, even though they also have reached us as literary texts in literary contexts, a specific live audience is assumed and usually even referred to in the context. So is also the specific opening – a difference of opinion with certain Pharisees, for example – to the telling of a parable. Therefore, and also because a reference to a biblical verse was usually not relevant, an explicit application was often not necessary in Jesus’ parables. In this essay I will demonstrate the evident similarities between the rabbinic and “early Jewish-Christian” parables by highlighting common topoi, motifs 6 Arnold Goldberg, “Das Schriftauslegende Gleichnis im Midrasch,” Frankurter Judaistische Beiträge 9 (1981) 1–90; idem, Rabbinische Texte als Gegenstand der Auslegung: Gesammelte Studien II, ed. Margarete Schlüter and Peter Schäfer (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1999); David Stern, Parables in Midrash: Narrative and Exegesis in Rabbinic Literature (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1991); Lieve M. Teugels, “Between Hermeneutic and Rhetoric: The Parable of the Slave Who Buys a Rotten Fish in Exegetical and Homiletical Midrashim,” in Hebrew Texts in Jewish, Christian and Muslim Surroundings, ed. Eveline Staalduine and Klaas Spronk (Leiden ; Boston: Brill, 2018) 50–64; Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot. 7 The function of the mashal in midrash will be explained in the first part of this essay. 8 Especially relevant (also included in the collection Rabbinische Texte, see n. 6) are: Arnold Goldberg, “Versuch über die hermeneutische Präsupposition und Struktur der Petiḥa,” Frankfurter Judaistische Beiträge, 1980; idem, “Distributive und kompositive Formen: Vorschläge für die descriptive Terminologie der Formanalyse rabbinischer Texte,” Frankfurter Judaistische Beiträge, 1984; idem, “Entwurf einer formanalytischen Methode für die Exegese der rabbinischen Traditionsliteratur,” Frankfurter Judaistische Beiträge, 1977.

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and literary patterns. A common five-point literary pattern will be discerned in all the selected parables that deal with a common topos, i.e., the “master-appointed overseer” pattern. Because of a relatively stable common pattern, the differences between the parables, both within and between the corpora, will stand out. These differences, I will demonstrate, are the result of the specific functions and purposes of the telling of the parable. The function of a specific parable can include various aspects, e.g. interpretation of a biblical verse and a comforting message, or teaching a large crowd about the Kingdom of God and making a political statement. In the first sections of this study I will introduce various aspects of the rabbinic mashal, including its form and function, definition, and relation to the parables attributed to Jesus in the Gospels of the New Testament. In the second part of this essay I will present parables from the rabbinic corpus in dialogue with some early Jewish-Christian parables that share the pattern of the “masterappointed overseer” story. To conclude, I will try to explain the remarkable differences between three specific NT parables in comparison with their rabbinic counterparts based on this difference of function, despite the similarity in form.

I. Introducing the Rabbinic Mashal I.1 Mashal, Parable, and Haggadah The mashal is one of the most clearly haggadic genres in Hebrew literature, starting in the Old Testament.9 In the Hebrew Bible, ‫( משל‬mashal) is the prime term used for various kinds of narrative texts, including proverbs, riddles and what we refer to as parables or similes. The English word “parable” comes from the Greek παραβολή (parabolē). This term is often used in the Septuagint to translate mashal. Examples of explicit uses of mashal in the Hebrew Bible that are translated by parabolē in the LXX are Num 23:7,18, Num 24:3, and Ezek 17:2 and 24:3. The relation between the terms parabolē and/or mashal used in the OT, and what a present-day reader conceives of as a parable is, however, complex. First,

9

It is safe to say “Hebrew literature” because, even in Aramaic Jewish texts such as the Babylonian Talmud and Amoraic midrashim like Genesis Rabbah, parables, meshalim, are almost exclusively formulated in Hebrew. The preference of meshalim for Hebrew rather than Aramaic is a topic I am planning to investigate further. See Shmuel Safrai in R. Steven Notley and Marc Turnage, Jesus’ Last Week. Jerusalem Studies in the Synoptic Gospels. Vol. 1 (JCP 11; Leiden: Brill, 2006) 225–244, esp. 238; Randall Buth and R. Steven Notley, The Language Environment of First Century Judaea. Jerusalem Studies in the Synoptic Gospels. Vol. 2 (JCP 26; Boston: Brill, 2014).

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mashal covers a load that is wider that what we usually identify as a parable.10 It is, e.g., used for a proverb as in the Hebrew title of the book of Proverbs, Mishle. It is also used for a riddle, a comparison, or another kind of narrative form such as the oracles of Bileam in the afore mentioned verses in Numbers 23. Second, not all occurrences of mashal in the OT are translated by parabolē in the LXX. An example of an instance of mashal that is not translated with parabolē is the title of the book of Proverbs, Mishle. Here the Greek uses another word: Παροιμίαι. Third, not all instances of parabolē in the LXX are translations of the Hebrew mashal.11 Finally, there are stories in the Hebrew Bible that are not marked with the word mashal but which we would nevertheless identify as parables, e.g. the parable in 2 Samuel 12 where Nathan tells a story to King David about a rich man that took the lamb of a poor man instead of one of his own lambs. The Hebrew mashal thus covers a load that is wider that what we usually identify as a parable, and not all OT parables are marked with the terms mashal or parabolē.12 Probably as a result of the common Greek translation of the Hebrew word mashal as parabolē in the LXX, the Greek NT introduces specific stories by Jesus with this term.13 This connects these stories to the meshalim that are identified as parabole in the LXX translation of the OT. In rabbinic literature, some regulation came into effect, resulting in progressive stereotyping, both with respect to the use of the term mashal to introduce certain texts, as also with respect to the characteristics of the thus labeled texts. Mashal, both as a noun and as a verb, is used to indicate the beginning of a specific type of rabbinic stories that resemble the OT and the NT parables in 10

The online Merriam-Webster dictionary defines “parable” as: “a usually short fictitious story that illustrates a moral attitude or a religious principle.” See https://www.merriamwebster.com/dictionary/parable. A similar definition is found in the Cambridge Dictionary: https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/parable. 11 Klyne R. Snodgrass, Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2008) 571–573, lists the cases where the noun mashal (OT) is translated by parabolē : 28 out of 41 cases. In total there are 47 cases of parabolē in the LXX; some of these are in books that are not included in the MT (Tobit, Wisdom, Sirach), and in some cases parabolē is used to translate another word than mashal (hollelot in Eccl 1:17). In addition, the verb mashal is sometimes translated by a form of parabolē in the LXX. 12 In later stages of Hebrew, mashal is also the word used for fable, notably of a fox or another animal fable. 13 Snodgrass, Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus 567– 569, lists all 50 occurrences of parabolē in the NT. Most of these can be translated as “parable” and are used to introduce or refer to a parable. Some (Mark 17:17; Luke 4:23) have related meanings such as “saying” or “proverb.” The two occurrences of parabolē in Hebrews (9:9, 11:19) are the only ones outside the Synoptic Gospels in the NT and cannot be translated with “parable” or a related term.

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structure and in purpose. The English term used for these rabbinic meshalim is usually “parables.” Also here the definition is not water-tight because mashal, especially as a verbal form, is sometimes used for phenomena that we would not call a parable but rather, for example, a mere comparison, such as “the Torah is compared to fire.” Restricting ourselves to the majority of cases where the word mashal marks the beginning of a full-fledged parable with a clear mashal-nimshal structure (see below), we may safely say that mashal is a rabbinic haggadic genre par excellence. This is independent of the fact that meshalim are sometimes also used in halakhic contexts, to illustrate a halakhic rule or statement: the story itself is an haggadic, narrative piece of literature.14 Moreover, the fact that certain midrashic collections are often called “halakhic,” for example the tannaitic midrashim on Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy,15 should not mislead us: Many of the interpretations in these collections fall under the category “midrash haggadah,” and this is certainly the case for the many meshalim in these works. In this paper, some examples will be studied of meshalim16 from the tannaitic, also called “halakhic,” midrash Mekhilta deRabbi Ishmael. It will immediately be evident that these parables can be safely defined as haggadic texts. I.2 Jesus Was Not the Sole Parabolist In a Christian context, the telling of parables is often considered as a unique Jesus-thing. He is held to be the paradigmatic and sometimes even the sole teller of parables. And indeed, in the Gospels of the NT we find some forty parables that are all attributed to Jesus. The extra-canonical gospels also contain parables by Jesus. No one else in the Gospels of the NT and the apocryphal gospels tells parables, only Jesus. In the early Christian literature that emerged after the NT we find few new parables, only explanations of the parables of Jesus. An exception is the famous parable of the vineyard in the Shepherd of Hermas, which is told by another teacher than Jesus. This exception notwithstanding, in the early Christian tradition, Jesus is indeed the main teller of parables. The New Testament, as scholars are more and more aware, is a hundred percent Jewish book. Not everything that is written in it is completely in line with other Jewish texts from the same period, but then these other texts also 14

See e.g. parable nr. 50 in Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot 552–558. See also n.

22. 15

See e.g. in Günter Stemberger, Einleitung in Talmud und Midrasch (München: Beck, 20119) 273–305. This section, discussing the tannaitic midrashim, is labeled “Die halakhischen Midrashim.” 16 Because the terms mashal, meshalim and nimshal, like midrash occur so often in this chapter, I will no longer italicize them from here onwards.

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contain huge differences in approach and perspective. The New Testament only contains a tiny share of the parables that are preserved in early Jewish literature. The rabbinic literature that was composed in the first millennium of the common era contains a huge amount of parables, attributed to known and anonymous Sages. The main works of rabbinic literature, i.e., the Mishnah (3rd cent CE), the Tosefta, the Jerusalem Talmud, the Babylonian Talmud and the midrashim from the tannaitic, amoritic, and early medieval periods all contain parables. The majority of these are preserved in biblical commentaries, the midrashim. The exegetical context and focus of the rabbinic parables account for many of the differences with the parables of Jesus, both in content and in form.17 I.3 The Rabbinic Midrashic Parable Unlike the parables of Jesus, most rabbinic parables have an exegetical, or hermeneutical function: they are used to explain biblical texts. This biblical, interpretative focus of the rabbinic parable constitutes a major difference from the parables of Jesus that should not be taken lightly. Without playing down the similarities between Jesus’ parables and those recorded in the names of countless (many anonymous) rabbinic Sages, the different literary function of the parable form should be a constant point of awareness for those engaging in comparative research between rabbinic parables and those in the NT. Let us therefore shortly address the peculiarities of the rabbinic mashal. The majority of meshalim in rabbinic literature are found in biblical interpretation, i.e. “midrash.” Let us first get the use of the word “midrash” straight. “Midrash” is used for related yet different phenonema. First, it is found with reference to complete works of rabbinic interpretation of Scripture, which do or do not bear the name midrash in their title, such as, for example, the Mekhilta deRabbi Ishmael, Bereshit Rabba, or Midrash Tanchuma. In this sense I write “Midrash” with a capital letter. Written in lower case, “midrash” is used to refer to at least two things. First, it refers to the process of rabbinic scriptural interpretation, as for example in the sentence: “midrash often allows for multiple interpretations of one biblical verse.” Second, “midrash” is also used to indicate an individual unit of scriptural interpretation, for example: “In a midrash on Exod 15:1 in the Mekhilta, horse and rider are compared to body and soul.” In the present paper, the third sense of midrash is the most relevant. The nature of the larger rabbinic work in which a parable occurs is less important than the fact that, in most occurrences of meshalim, even in the Mishnah and the b. Talmud, they are used in a midrashic context, i.e. in the interpretation of a specific biblical text. I therefore have coined the term “midrashic mashal” to

17 See the study of Bernd Kollmann for the perspective and focus which I share: “Jesus als jüdischer Gleichnisdichter,” NTS 50 (2004) 457–475.

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refer to the specific use of the rabbinic parable in the scriptural interpretation of the Sages.18 Because of its typical function in biblical interpretation, the rabbinic parable developed a specific, stereotypical form that contains, among other things, an explicit application.19 The latter, called “nimshal,” connects the images of the parable to the biblical text that is being interpreted. The typical rabbinic midrashic mashal is bipartite: The “mashal proper” is typically introduced by a stereotypical formula, such as “Rabbi XX told a parable”; “they told a parable” (‫“ ;)משלו משל‬to what is the matter similar?” (‫)למה הדבר דומה‬, or a combination of these. The nimshal is usually introduced with “so also” (‫)כך‬. The mashal proper20 uses images and figures from daily life to illuminate situations depicted in the biblical text, often the relation between God and Israel, or a biblical character such as Moses. The most well-known examples of stereotypical characters in rabbinic meshalim are the king – who usually represents God – and a son, or a slave, who represent Israel or another biblical protagonist. The way a mashal offers an interpretation of an aspect of the biblical text appears to be rather transparent because the nimshal brings the interpretation “back” to the passage at hand. However, it should be noted that this transparency is only seldom complete because the mashal proper often doesn’t “cover” its nimshal, or the biblical text it comes to illuminate, one hundred percent. The following example of a mashal from the Mechilta deRabbi Ishmael, one of the two tannaitic midrashim to Exodus,21 will make the above clear. Scripture says: “I the Lord am your God” (Exod 20:2), and opposite it is written: “You shall not murder” (Exod 20:13). Scripture says that anyone who sheds blood, it is accounted to him as if he diminished the [divine] image. A parable of a king of flesh and blood who entered a province, he had portraits of himself set up, they made statues of him, and they struck coins of him. After some time they turned over his portraits, they broke his statues, they defaced his coins, and they diminished the image of the king. So everyone who sheds blood, it is accounted to him as if he diminished the [divine] image, as it is said: “Whoever sheds man’s blood, by man his blood shall be shed, for in the image of God He made man” (Gen 9:6).22

18

Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot 7–9. About the stereotyping of the rabbinic mashal, see Stern, Parables in Midrash 21. 20 I add “proper” only when I explicitly treat the distinction between mashal and nimshal. In other cases “mashal” refers to the whole form, including mashal and nimshal. 21 My edition, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot, covers some 50 parables from the two sister midrashim Mekhilta deRabbi Ishmael and Mekhilta deRabbi Shimon bar Yochai. On these two midrashim and the relationship between them, see Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot 67–74. 22 Mekhilta deRabbi Ishmael, Bachodesh 8. See Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot 420. As a matter of fact, the point which this mashal makes is halakhic. The same reasoning is also found in b. Sanh. 37a (= m. Sanh. 4:5). Nevertheless, I consider the mashal itself an haggadic text. 19

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In the above text, the mashal proper starts with the formula “A parable of a king of flesh and blood.” The nimshal is introduced with “So.” The king in the parable stands for God, his images for the human beings who are created in the image of God. By destroying the images in the parable, the people who did this are said to destroy the reputation, i.e. the image of the king. Via Gen 9:6, where the shedding of blood is connected to the image of God in the same verse, the connection between Exod 20:2 and 13 is made: the affirmation of the existence of the one God is connected to the prohibition against murdering humans. I.4 Rabbinic Meshalim as Interpretations to the First or Second Degree Because a midrashic mashal is part of the interpretation of a biblical text, it can be said to be a midrashic technique, a hermeneutical device, or “form” (Goldberg), next to other forms used in midrash such as the simple midrash statement (Goldberg’s “midrash-sentence”) or the petichta.23 Sometimes the mashal is a kind of second-order midrash; then it offers an interpretation of an earlier interpretation given in a previous midrash.24 Two examples from the Mekhilta will make this clear. In the first example, the mashal is part of a midrash on Exod 14:5. Then the Lord said to Moses, “Why do you cry out to Me? Tell the Israelites to go forward” (Exod 14:15). (…) R. Abtulum the Elder says: They tell this parable. To what is the matter similar? To someone who was angry with his son and he rejected him. His guardian came in to ask for him. He said to him: “You do not ask anything from me that is not in favor of my son. I am already reconciled to my son!” So said the Holy One, blessed be He, to Moses: “Why do you cry out? Not because of my sons? I am already reconciled to my sons.”25 “Tell the Israelites to go forward.” Yesterday you would say: “Ever since I came to pharaoh to speak in your name he has dealt worse with this people” (Exod 5:23), and now you stand and are piling up prayers! “Why do you cry out?”26

The above mashal offers a direct interpretation of the Bible text: the “crying” and “sons of Israel” have a direct equivalent in the parable to “being angry” and the “son.” The nimshal takes the situation back to the biblical verse and quotes it: a textbook example of a beautifully structured mashal that bears 23 The method of “form-analysis” was designed by Arnold Goldberg to enable an objective form – rather than content-based analysis of rabbinic texts. Many of his studies are collected in Goldberg, Rabbinische Texte. See about Goldberg’s method for the study of meshalim: Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot 39–46. 24 This is often the case in the Tanchuma midrashim. See Ronit Nikolsky, “Are Parables an Interpretation?,” in Sources and Interpretation in Ancient Judaism. Studies for Tal Ilan at Sixty, ed. Saskia Dönitz, Meron Piotrkowski, and Geoffrey Herman (Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity; Leiden: Brill, 2018) 289–315. 25 I follow here manuscript M rather than manuscript O, my regular base text. 26 Mechilta deRabbi Ishmael, Beshalach 4 to Exod 14:15. This mashal is also found in the Mekhilta deRabbi Shimon bar Yochai. See Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot 159– 166.

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directly on the base biblical text, although the precise implications still require some thought. In the following example the mashal elaborates on the interpretation of the biblical text in a preceding midrash attributed to Rabbi Meir. “And the Israelites went into the sea” (Exod 14:22). R. Meir says it in one way, and R. Yehuda says it in another way. R. Meir says: When the tribes stood at the sea, this one said: “I will go down,” and that one said: “I will go down.” While they stood there, the tribe of Benjamin jumped up and went down to the sea first, as it is said: “There is little Benjamin who rules them” (Ps 68:28). Do not read “rules them” (rodem) but “went down to the sea” (rod yam). The princes of Judah began to hurl stones (meragmim) at them. As it is said: “the princes of Judah their heaps” (rigmatam). They tell this parable. To what is the matter similar? To a king who had two sons, one big and one little. He said to the little one that he should wake him at sunrise. He said to the big one that he should wake him at the third hour. The little one came to wake him up at sunrise, but the big one did not let him. He said to him: “No! He said to me at the third hour!” The little one said: “No! He said to me at sunrise!” While they were standing and bickering, their father woke up. He said to them: “My sons, in any event you two only had my honor in mind, I will also not withhold your reward.” So: What reward did the tribe of Benjamin receive because they went down to the sea first? The Shekhinah rested in their part, as it is said: “Benjamin is a ravenous wolf, in the morning he consumes the foe, and in the evening he divides the spoil” (Gen 49:27). And it is said: “Of Benjamin he said: Beloved of the Lord. He (God) rests securely beside him. Ever does He protect him as He rests between his shoulders” (Deut 33:12). What rewards did the tribe of Judah receive therefore? He merited royalty, as it is said: “The princes of Judah their heaps” (rigmatam) (Ps 68:28). And there is no stoning (regima) but royalty. As it is said: “Then, at Belshazzar's command, they clothed Daniel in purple (argona),27 placed a golden chain on his neck, and proclaimed that he should rule as one of the three in the kingdom” (Dan 5:29).28

The verse that is being discussed here, Exod 14:22, is not about two sons at all, nor is it explicitly about Benjamin and Judah. This idea comes entirely from the midrash by Rabbi Meir, who adduces a prooftext from Ps 68:28, which references Benjamin and Judah. The mashal of the two sons who wake their father gives a “secondary” interpretation: it is an interpretation of the interpretation (the midrash of R. Meir) of the biblical verse. In sum: in rabbinic literature, meshalim usually occur in a context of midrash, where they fulfil the same role as the surrounding midrashic passages, namely the interpretation of a biblical text. Sometimes this interpretation bears directly on the biblical base text, and sometimes it bears on a previous midrash of that text. A final note about the midrashic meshalim should be made: midrash is the rabbinic form of interpretation of the Bible. However, this is not about 27 The original text of Daniel is in Aramaic. In Hebrew this is argeman, which contains the three letters of rigma. 28 Mekhilta deRabbi Ishmael, Beshalach 6. See Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot 190–201.

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“exegesis” in the academic sense of the word. Rabbinic midrash is much more than explaining problematic texts. The rabbis express their views on God, people and society through their explanation of the biblical texts. In the midrash which connects the mashal of the brothers who need to wake their father to the tribes of Benjamin and Judah, certain views are vented about the position of these two tribes. It will not have escaped the reader's attention that the tribe of Benjamin, who bravely takes the first jump into the water, is put in a more favorable light than the tribe of Judah, who throws stones at them. The fact that the temple is in the territory of Benjamin, and not of Judah, is legitimized here. However, the kingship of Judah is not questioned. In another version of this mashal, in Sipre Deuteronomy 352, the favorable presentation of Benjamin is even more obvious. Midrash thus becomes a vehicle for political ideas. Other midrashim and meshalim instead contain theological or philosophical messages. Always, however, these are presented in the form of interpretation of Scripture. I.5 To Apply or Not to Apply? In contradistinction to the rabbinic parables, the parables attributed to Jesus are often not transmitted together with an explicit application. Also, the parables that are attributed to Jesus are usually not exegetical: they rather explain a situation, or a conflict such as with the Pharisees, or, often, speak eschatologically about the Kingdom of Heaven. The application is usually implicit in the form of a call to the readers or listeners to think about what it means. This is most obvious is the saying “He who has ears, let him hear.”29 Nevertheless, there are also parables of Jesus in the NT that do contain a nimshal such as the parable of the wicked tenants in all three synoptic versions (see below).30 When Jesus told parables, the explicit application was apparently not always necessary because we can assume that there was a live audience which knew what the situation, or even the referenced biblical text, was about. The different contexts of the mashal, exegetical in rabbinic texts, and usually not exegetical in the NT, are what constitute the biggest difference between the parables of Jesus and the rabbinic parables. It is possible that non-exegetical parables were also told by rabbis other than Jesus in the first century CE. Thus a legendary note in Leviticus Rabbah holds that Bar Kappara told three hundred 29

Cf. Mark 4:9; Matt 11:15; 13:9; 13:43; Luke 8:8; 14:35 and several times in the Gospel of Thomas. See April D. DeConick, The Original Gospel of Thomas in Translation: With a Commentary and New English Translation of the Complete Gospel (London: T&T Clark, 2007) 70–71. See also the following note. 30 The parable of the wicked tenants in the Gospel of Thomas 65 does not have the nimshal with the reference to the corner stone, but ends with the saying “Whoever has ears, let him hear.” Cf. http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/thomas/gospelthomas65.html. See below for the discussion of this parable.

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fox parables at every course of a dinner party.31 Yet the rabbinic texts, which are at least two hundred years younger than the NT, contain few non-midrashic parables. The chronological difference between the NT and the rabbinic sources is a factor that should always be reckoned with. Indeed, the NT is in fact the oldest source of post-second Temple Judaism. Therefore it is feasible, as was claimed by David Flusser, that the parables of Jesus represent a more authentic type than the exegetical parables that emerged in the course of the second century, the result of which we see in rabbinic literature.32 On the other hand, there are many indications that several, notably tannaitic, rabbinic parables are older than the time when they were collected, starting in the third century CE.33 I.6 A Very Short Status Quaestionis of Comparative NT and Rabbinic Parable Research Since the beginning of the previous century Christian scholars of the NT have become aware of the riches of rabbinic parables. Much scholarly attention to the rabbinic meshalim was initiated by Christian scholars as a by-product of the study of the Gospel parables, in which the rabbinic material was often adduced as a foil compared to which Jesus’ Gospels shined as a beacon of renewal and creative quality. In this category fall the very influential works by Adolf Jülicher and Joachim Jeremias.34 Despite this biased motive, important insights have come from these pioneering works. Adolf Jülicher’s terminology of parable research is still followed in German studies, sometimes with modifications, by many scholars until the present day.35 Paul Fiebig offered the first

31 Leviticus Rabbah 28:2. About this text, see David Stern in Michael A. Fishbane, The Midrashic Imagination, Jewish Exegesis, Thought, and History (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993) 78–80. 32 D. Flusser, Die rabbinischen Gleichnisse und der Gleichniserzähler Jesus. 1 Teil, passim. Unfortunately, Flusser was rather negative about the rabbinic midrashic parables, which he considered a deterioration of the parable genre. See Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot 22–23. 33 Cf. Kollmann, “Jesus als jüdischer Gleichnisdichter” 473–474. 34 Adolf Jülicher, Die Gleichnisreden Jesu, 2 vols. (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 19632); Joachim Jeremias, Die Gleichnisse Jesu (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1947/1962). 35 Cf. Ruben Zimmermann et al., eds., Kompendium der Gleichnisse Jesu (Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 2007) 17–27; R. Zimmermann and G. Kern, eds., Hermeneutik der Gleichnisse Jesu: Methodische Neuansätze zum Verstehen urchristlicher Parabeltexte (WUNT 231; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009). See there especially (critically): R. Zimmerman, “Parabeln – sonst nichts! Gattungsbestimmung jenseits der Klassification in ‘Bildwort’, ‘Gleichnis’, ‘Parabel’ und ‘Beispielerzählung’” (383–419).

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major contribution to a formal study of rabbinic parables.36 In his two works on parables (1904 and 1912) he published selected parables in German translation in an endeavor, against Jülicher, to show the continuity between the parables of the Gospels and those of early rabbinic literature. He demonstrated this continuity by focusing on the form, rather than the content or the degree of allegory in the parables. Fiebig’s work can be safely regarded as the first systematic study and collection of rabbinic parables that leaves them with their own value, despite the occasional supersessionist remarks.37 The latter bear on the content or message rather than the form of the parables38 and can be set aside as a black mark of Fiebig’s time, while still valuing his work. In the latter half of the previous century, various Christian scholars started to display a more sincere and unbiased interest in the rabbinic parables, as in rabbinic texts in general. This went hand-in-hand with a rise in Jewish interest in Jesus, including his parables, and early Christian literature. The main protagonist of Jewish New Testament scholarship was David Flusser. Flusser’s reception has been mixed: he is greatly appreciated for the fact that he built the bridge that led Jewish scholars into NT and Jesus research. But on the other hand, his negative views about “later” rabbinic parables – which in fact most midrashic meshalim are – have been questioned by more than one.39 After Flusser, the difference between Jewish and Christian parable scholarship faded – partly due to Flusser himself. More recently Amy-Jill Levine, a Jewish NT scholar, wrote a challenging popular study about Jesus’ parables from a Jewish perspective.40 Apart from comparative research, the study of the rabbinic parables, independent from the study of their New Testament counterparts, has taken a flight. An important contribution to rabbinic parable research was made in the series Die Gleichnisse der Rabbinen, edited by Clemens Thoma and his colleagues.41 36 Paul Fiebig, Altjüdische Gleichnisse und die Gleichnisse Jesu; idem, Die Gleichnisreden Jesu im Lichte der rabbinischen Gleichnisse des neutestamentlichen Zeitalters; idem, Rabbinische Formgeschichte und die Geschichtlichkeit Jesu (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1931). 37 Kollmann, “Jesus als jüdischer Gleichnisdichter” 460. 38 See especially Fiebig, Altjüdische Gleichnisse und die Gleichnisse Jesu 163. 39 See note 32. Especially critical of Flusser is Arnold Goldberg; see Goldberg, Rabbinische Texte 135, 195. See also Clemens Thoma, S. Lauer, and H. Ernst, Die Gleichnisse der Rabbinen. 1. Teil.: Pesiqtā deRav Kahanā (PesK): Einleitung, Übersetzung, Parallelen, Kommentar, Texte (Bern: Peter Lang, 1986) 74: “Flussers methodische Ansätze gaben zu reden.” See Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot 22–23. 40 Amy-Jill Levine, Short Stories by Jesus: The Enigmatic Parables of a Controversial Rabbi (New York: HarperOne, 2015). The Jewish commentary on the NT in general should also be mentioned here: Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Z. Brettler, eds., The Jewish Annotated New Testament (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2011). 41 The series started by Clemens Thoma and his colleagues includes meshalim in most Amoraic midrashim. See C. Thoma, S. Lauer, and H. Ernst, Pesiqtā deRav Kahanā (PesK),

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More theoretical reflections on rabbinic meshalim are offered by Robert Morris Johnston, Arnold Goldberg, David Stern, Daniel Boyarin, and Yonah Fraenkel, to name only a few.42 Recently more attention has also been given to the relation between parables and classical fables.43 The Dutch project “Parables and the Partings of the Ways” offers comprehensive research studying rabbinic and early Christian parables from various angles. The first publications of this project have recently seen the light, and several others will follow in the coming two years.44 I.7 Defining the Parable The definition of what a parable is, especially when crossing the boundaries of a specific corpus (Gospels, rabbinic literature), is complicated. NT studies generally focus more on the content and message of the parable, and rabbinic studies on the form. Understandably, New Testament as well as rabbinic scholars tend to use descriptions or definitions that only cover the parables in “their” corpus (and their approach). For example, most NT scholars make a strict distinction between parables and fables.45 A story in which an animal talks cannot Part 1 of Die Gleichnisse der Rabbinen (in n. 39) ; C. Thoma and S. Lauer, Von der Erschaffung der Welt bis zum Tod Abrahams: Bereshit Rabba 1–63: Einleitung, Übersetzung mit Kommentar, Texte, vol. 2 of Die Gleichnisse der Rabbinen (Bern: Lang, 1991); C. Thoma and H. Ernst, Von Isaak bis zum Schilfmeer: BerR 63–100; ShemR 1–22: Einleitung, Übersetzung mit Kommentar, Texte, vol. 3 of Die Gleichnisse der Rabbinen (Bern: Lang, 1996); C. Thoma and H. Ernst, Vom Lied des Mose bis zum Bundesbuch; ShemR 23–30: Einleitung, Übersetzung mit Kommentar, Texte, vol. 4 of Die Gleichnisse der Rabbinen (Bern: Lang, 2000). 42 Robert Morris Johnston, “Parabolic Interpretations Attributed to Tannaim” (cf. n. 3); Stern, Parables in Midrash; Daniel Boyarin, Intertextuality and the Reading of Midrash (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1990); Yonah Fraenkel, “Hamashal,” in Darkhe ha-aggadah vehamidrash, 2 vols. (Givataim: Yad letalmud, 1991) 323–393; Goldberg, “Das Schriftauslegende Gleichnis im Midrasch.” The latter study is also included in the collection Rabbinische Texte named in n. 6. 43 See the dissertation of Justin David Strong, who holds that all Jesus’ parables included in the Gospel of Luke are in fact fables: Justin David Strong, “The Fables of Jesus in the Gospel of Luke: Their Form, Origins, and Implications” (Notre Dame, IN: Notre Dame University, 2019). 44 This is a NWO-funded project that ran from 2014–2020. My edition, Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot, was also made within this project. A first collection of studies is: Eric Ottenheijm and Marcel Poorthuis (eds.), Parables in Changing Contexts. Essays on the Study of Parables in Christianity, Judaism, Islam and Buddhism (JCP; Leiden: Brill, 2019). Many smaller studies by the project members Marcel Poorthuis, Eric Ottenheijm, Annette Merz, Albertina Oegema, Martijn Stoutjesdijk, Jonathan Pater and myself have appeared as articles and in edited volumes. Several other publications of this project, including three dissertations, will see the light in the following years. 45 See e.g. Madeleine Boucher, The Mysterious Parable: A Literary Study (Washington, DC: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1977) 16. R. Zimmermann and G. Kern, eds.,

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be a parable according to most NT scholars, because that would be unrealistic, and parables are never unrealistic. But, what if Jesus would have told a parable in which we find a talking animal? This is just to say that the available material influences the definition. Rabbinic literature contains several meshalim about animals which don’t differ in their form and function from meshalim that feature only humans.46 Despite the differences between NT and Jewish Studies scholars, most agree that the synoptic parables and the rabbinic meshalim can be compared. Therefore I set out to draft a definition of “parable” that encompasses both corpora. The definition needed to be broad enough to cover the parables in the two corpora, and yet specific enough to exclude other (narrative) forms. Specifically, to include the Gospel parables, the context of biblical interpretation, and specific introductory formulae, could not be included in the definition. The result is a somewhat broad, yet useful working definition: (1) A parable contains a comparison between two situations; (2) One of these is the “base” situation that will be explained by the other; (3) The second situation is the one with which the “base” situation is compared; (4) The second situation is chosen for its capacity to shed light on the “base situation”; (5) The second situation is presented in the form of a short fictional narrative.47

Hermeneutik der Gleichnisse Jesu 414. Boucher and Zimmerman distinguish parables from fables in that the latter are usually less realistic and often deal with anthropomorphic animals. See, however, n. 43 about Justin Strong, who rather holds that we should only use the term “fables.” 46 Lieve M. Teugels, “Talking Animals in Parables: A Contradictio in Terminis?,” in Parables in Changing Contexts. Interreligious and Cultural Approaches to the Study of Parables, ed. E. Ottenheijm, Annette Merz, and Marcel Poorthuis (Leiden: Brill, 2019) 129– 146. 47 Teugels, “Talking Animals” 144; Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot 11. This definition requires some explanatory notes included in the first named study: “These four elements suffice to describe the consensus underlying the notion ‘parable’. As to (2), the ‘base’ situation can be a biblical verse; something related in a biblical text; a situation, such as a conflict, in real life; a vision of a future or better life, etc. These situations are merely examples: to enter them in a definition would exclude other possibilities of ‘base’ situations that could be illuminated by a parable. As to (4), the second situation can be ‘realistic’ – such as a king having a fight with his son and reconciling; or a younger son running away from his father and returning – , but it can also be ‘unrealistic’ – such as a dog weighing his decisions and ‘reconciling’ with his rival; a fox talking to fish; or ten virgins finding a store to buy oil at midnight (Matt 25:10). Including specifications of what is allowed and what not (e.g. anthropomorphism) would exclude situations that in one cultural setting might be considered realistic and in another not: consider a god impregnating a human woman disguised as a swan; a prophet alighting on a horse and ascending to heaven; or a human being dying and resurrecting. Moreover, something that is impossible in real life, such as a talking dog, can still be imagined by most audiences and therefore works as a point of comparison for the ‘base’ situation to be explained.”

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II. The Master and the Overseer: A Comparative Parable Study In the remainder of this essay, I will analyze several parables from antiquity found in Jewish and Jewish-Christian sources. The common “topos” of these parables is a master (who could also be king, or a pater familias) who leaves the administration of (some of) his affairs to another whom we will call the “overseer.” In many cases the reason for the appointment of the overseer is travel. I will look at the preparations the master takes before such travel and the actions he undertakes when he returns from his travel; or when travel is not the reason, I will investigate what is expected of a good overseer and how the latter is rewarded or punished. I will study the way the behavior of those who need to keep the business running in the absence of the master is depicted. A remarkably fixed pattern can be discerned in the way all these stories are told. My focus will be on the variations on the pattern in the various ancient Jewish and early Jewish-Christian sources. Noting some particularly striking variations in some NT parables vis-à-vis their rabbinic counterparts, I will try to come up with an explanation for these variations.48 II.1 Talents, Minas, Denars: Variations on a “Traveling Master” Theme I will start my discussion with a set of three parables, two from the New Testament, and one from an early rabbinic source, that display an undeniably common pattern. Each parable, however, is a unique story that introduces variations on the pattern, even to the point of a total reversal of the message in the two versions in the Gospels when compared with the rabbinic version.49 The first is that of the talents in Matthew 25.50 14 For it is just like a man about to go on a journey, who called his own slaves and entrusted his possessions to them. 15 To one he gave five talents, to another, two, and to another, one, each according to his own ability; and he went on his journey. 16 Immediately the one who had received the five talents went and traded with them, and gained five more talents. 17 In the same manner the one who had received the two talents gained two more. 18 But he who received the one talent went away, and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. 19 Now after a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. 20 And he who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five talents more, saying, “Master, you delivered to me five talents; here, I have made five talents more.” 21 His master said to him, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.” 22 And he also who had the two 48 I presented a first version of this paper in a conference on “Jewish, Christian and Muslim Travel Experiences (3rd century BCE – 8th century CE),” which took place in Groningen on January 27–29, 2020. 49 I do not make a statement of dependency or chronology here. I do believe, however, that the rabbinic version contains a more traditional, “conservative” version of the narrative. 50 For the English translation of the New Testament I use the New American Standard Bible.

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talents came forward, saying, “Master, you delivered to me two talents; here, I have made two talents more.” 23 His master said to him, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.” 24 He also who had received the one talent came forward, saying, “Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you scattered no seed, 25 so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here, you have what is yours.” 26 But his master answered him, “You wicked and slothful servant! You knew that I reap where I have not sown and gather where I scattered no seed? 27 Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and at my coming I should have received what was my own with interest. 28 So take the talent from him and give it to him who has the ten talents. 29 For to everyone who has, more shall be given, and he will have an abundance; but from the one who does not have, even what he does have shall be taken away. 30 Throw out the worthless slave into the outer darkness; in that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

The relevant points of the pattern in this parable are: 1. A master goes on a journey; 2. He entrusts property with three slaves in an uneven way. They receive five, two, and one talent, respectively; 3. The slaves deal differently with the property entrusted to them. Those who received five and two talents invest them, the one who received one talent hides it; 4. The master returns and settles accounts; 5. He rewards those who invested their talents and let the money grow, and punishes the one who hid and saved his talent. The parable seems to end with a so-called “epimythium” (v. 29), also known from the Aesopean fables, a lesson that has a function comparable to the rabbinic nimshal.51 After the nimshal, however, in v. 30 the mashal continues because the image of the slave is resumed. It is therefore usually accepted (unconvincing in my view) that v. 29 is part of the speech of the master and thus part of the mashal proper.52 A similar parable is found in Luke 19. In Luke, the parable is embedded in the literary context by means of an introduction that gives insight into the reason why Jesus tells this parable at this time, i.e. “because He was near Jerusalem, and they supposed that the kingdom of God was going to appear

51

In some cases the rabbinic parables also end with a lesson that resembles an epimythium more than a standard nimshal. This is e.g. the case in a mashal in Mekhilta deRabbi Ishmael pischa 16, which concludes with the saying, “So also do later troubles cause the former ones to be forgotten.” The mashal itself has much in common with the Aesopean fable known as “The Murderer.” I discuss this parable in a forthcoming study: “From the Lion to the Snake, from the Wolf to the Bear. Rescue and Punishment in Classical Fables and Rabbinic Meshalim,” in Parables and Fables in the Graeco-Roman World, ed. Jonathan Pater, A. Oegema, M. Stoutjesdijk (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, forthcoming). 52 Snodgrass typifies both parables (talents and minas) as “indirect narrative parable without a nimshal.” Cf. Snodgrass, Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus 519. I tend to think that the epimythium is the original ending of the parable, i.e. in its literary form. Cf. Ronald Allen Piper, The Gospel Behind the Gospels: Current Studies on Q (Leiden: Brill, 1995) 296, n. 65. See also below in the discussion of the Lukan parable.

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immediately” (v. 11). In Matthew this introduction is not found before the telling of the parable of the talents, but a similar context can be assumed from the introduction of the preceding parable in the same chapter (25:1). 11 While they were listening to these things, Jesus went on to tell a parable, because he was near Jerusalem, and they supposed that the kingdom of God was going to appear immediately. 12 So he said, “A nobleman went to a distant country to receive a kingdom for himself, and then return. 13 And he called ten of his slaves, and gave them ten minas and said to them, ‘Do business with this until I come back.’ 14 But his citizens hated him and sent a delegation after him, saying, ‘We do not want this man to reign over us.’ 15 When he returned, after receiving the kingdom, he ordered that these slaves, to whom he had given the money, be called to him so that he might know what business they had done. 16 The first came before him, saying, ‘Lord, your mina has made ten minas more.’ 17 And he said to him, ‘Well done, good servant! Because you have been faithful in a very little, you shall have authority over ten cities.’ 18 And the second came, saying, ‘Lord, your mina has made five minas.’ 19 And he said to him, ‘And you are to be over five cities.’ 20 Then another came, saying, ‘Lord, here is your mina, which I kept laid away in a handkerchief; 21 for I was afraid of you, because you are a severe man. You take what you did not deposit, and reap what you did not sow.’ 22 He said to him, ‘I will condemn you with your own words, you wicked servant! You knew that I was a severe man, taking what I did not deposit and reaping what I did not sow? 23 Why then did you not put my money in the bank, and at my coming I might have collected it with interest?’ 24 And he said to those who stood by, ‘Take the mina from him, and give it to the one who has the ten minas.’ 25 And they said to him, ‘Master, he has ten minas already.’ 26 ‘I tell you that to everyone who has, more shall be given, but from the one who does not have, even what he does have shall be taken away. 27 But these enemies of mine, who did not want me to reign over them, bring them here and slay them in my presence.’”

Even though it is conceived by many as the Synoptic parallel or variant to the one in Matthew, the two parables contain considerable differences.53 First, the text in Luke is more complicated in that it contains a second story-line of a king who goes out to acquire a kingdom. This second plot is not without problems that I will not expand on here. It resurfaces when some slaves are rewarded with “authority over cities,” and at the end, in v. 27, after what I believe is originally an epimythium and not part of the speech of the master.54 Second, the parables differ as to the monetary unit that is used: whereas Matthew mentions τάλαντον (talent), Luke has μνᾶς (minas).55 Third, as opposed to the parable in Matthew, in Luke all the slaves receive the same amount to take care

53

Snodgrass 225–231 discusses various possible relations between the two parables but also states that “Serious consideration must be given to the fact that these are two similar but independent parables” (225). 54 See n. 52. 55 About the value of the amounts, see Snodgrass, Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus 528. Even one talent would have been an enormous amount, equaling a wage of twenty years for a day-laborer. A mina is a more realistic amount, but would still equal 100 days wages for a common laborer.

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of, i.e. one mina. Fourth, even though ten slaves are said to receive a mina in the beginning, only three are mentioned when it comes to giving accounts. Fifth, whereas the slave that is punished in Matthew hides his talent in the ground, the one in Luke keeps it in a cloth. Over-all, however, the parable follows the same pattern as that of the talents in Matthew: 1. A master goes on a journey to a distant country; 2. He entrusts property with ten slaves in an even way: they all receive one mina; 3. The slaves deal differently with the property entrusted to them. Two invest, and one hides his mina; 4. The master returns and settles accounts; 5. He rewards two who invested their mina and let the money grow, and he punishes one who hid and saved it. A third parable that displays the same pattern is found in the tannaitic midrash Sipre to Deuteronomy 48. This example may serve as an indication that the two parables in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke need not necessarily have to be reworkings of the same original, but may simply have been stories built on a standard plot-pattern.56 Like the Mekhilta, Sipre Deuteronomy is a tannaitic midrash and thus belongs to the oldest preserved rabbinic texts which received a (more or less) final redaction in the third century CE. Because of their antiquity, the tannaitic midrashim are usually considered the most suitable rabbinic texts for comparison with the New Testament. The time difference is still considerable, but then the similarity of some of these tannaitic texts to certain passages in the NT is too close to neglect them simply because of the chronological gap. Moreover, chronology is very relative when it comes to rabbinic literature: the oldest rabbinic text, the Mishnah, contains traditions that are older than the supposed time of redaction of the NT Gospels. In the following rabbinic parable we don’t find a traveling master and slaves, but two brothers who inherit from their father. The father has gone on an “eternal journey” so to speak. In this mashal we encounter yet a third monetary unit, i.e. denars. As in the parable of the minas in Luke, the “trustees” receive an equal amount, and they treat what was entrusted to them differently: one puts it in the bank, and the other spends it. The father obviously cannot return to settle accounts. However, it is plainly stated that the one who is the most conservative is the one who eventually is better off. I give the mashal with some of its context, namely the beginning of the midrash in which the base verse, Deut 11:22, is quoted and, typically, contrasted with a preceding verse that is almost identical, v. 13. The “issue” which the midrash draws on is: What is the difference between these verses that it was necessary to state the message twice? If one “hears” (v. 13) a commandment, this does not necessarily imply that one will keep it. Therefore v. 22 is added. An additional point, however, that may be noticeable in the background of the mashal is the meaning of shamar in the base verse, which could mean both 56 See n. 53. Sipre Deuteronomy 48 is not mentioned by Snodgrass in his list of parallels in Stories with Intent 522.

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“save” or “keep.” “Saving” a commandment should not be understood as “putting it aside” or “hiding it.” “For if ye shall diligently keep/save (‫ )שמר‬all this commandment” (Deut 11:22): Why was this said? Because of “If ye shall hearken diligently unto My commandments” (Deut 11:13). I might assume that even if one has heard the words of Torah, he may remain idle and not study them again. Therefore Scripture says here, “ye shall diligently keep/save,” indicating that just as one must be careful not to lose his money, so must he be careful not to lose his learning. (…) R. Simeon ben Yoḥai says by way of a parable: Two brothers inherit money from their father. One converts it into a denar and spends it, while the other converts it into a denar and puts it aside (‫)מניחו‬. He who has converted his denar and spent it now has nothing, whereas he who has converted his denar and has put it aside eventually grows wealthy. Even so is it with the disciples of the wise: one who studies two or three things a day, two or three chapters in a week, two or three scriptural lessons in a month, eventually becomes rich [in Torah], and of him it is said, “He that gathereth little by little shall increase” (Prov 13:11).57

The recurring pattern is developed in this mashal in the following way: 1. A father dies (eternal journey); 2. Two brothers receive money in an equal way: one denar each; 3. The brothers deal differently with the property entrusted to them. One spends and one saves; 4. Accounts are settled; 5. The one who has saved is rewarded, the one who spent has nothing. Some remarks about this rabbinic mashal are relevant to the New Testament parables of the talents and the minas. The mashal of the denars contains a nimshal without, however, a quotation of the biblical base verse, Deut 11:22, as could be expected of a midrashic mashal. Moreover, the nimshal does not quite match the mashal and the preceding midrash: Whereas the midrash deals with “not losing Torah,” the mashal is about “putting aside a denar,” and the nimshal about “accumulating Torah.” All these meanings can be read into the verb shamar. Most remarkable, however, is the quotation at the end of a biblical prooftext from Proverbs (not the base verse). “He that gathereth little by little shall increase.” This proverb recalls the first part of the epimythium found in the parables of the talents and the minas. In the version of Matt 25:29 we read: “For to everyone who has, more shall be given, and he will have an abundance; but from the one who does not have, even what he does have shall be taken away.” This similarity, combined with the deviance in the rabbinic mashal from the standard nimshal-pattern, in which the quotation of the biblical base verse is “replaced” by a proverb, and the awkward (but I think original) position of the epimythium in the two NT parables which now comes before the actual last verse of the parable, may be an indication that all three meshalim bear on a lesson with the theme “if one has something small, one should increase it by hard work.”

57 Sipre Deuteronomy 48. Translation Reuven Hammer, Sifre: A Tannaitic Commentary on the Book of Deuteronomy 100–101.

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The lost Jewish-Christian “Gospel of the Hebrews,” mentioned by Eusebius in his Theophania 4:22, may serve as a missing link between the rabbinic mashal of the denars and the two NT parables.58 This, according to Eusebius originally Hebrew Gospel, would have contained a parable about three slaves who each receive one talent: one hid the talent, one multiplied it, and one squandered it. In Eusebius this is considered as a different version of Matthew’s “Talents,” but it seems closer to Luke’s “Minas,” where each slave receives the same amount.59 This is Eusebius’ record: Since the Gospel that has come to us in Hebrew letters directs its threat not against the one who has hidden (his talent) but against the one who lived in extravagance. For he [the master] possessed three slaves, one spent the fortune of his master with harlots and flute-girls, the second who multiplied his trade and the third who hid his talent. One of them was accepted, one rebuked only, and one thrown into prison. I wonder whether the threat in Matthew, which, according to the letter was spoken against the one who did nothing, applies not to him but to the earlier one who was eating and drinking with the drunkards, by way of resumption.60

Depending on the interpretation of Eusebius’ account, the one who hid the talent was praised, the one who multiplied it was rebuked, and the one who squandered it was thrown into prison. Another reading would be that the one who hid it was rebuked, the one who multiplied it was praised, and the one who squandered it was cast into prison.61 We will probably never know, but if “hiding”62 would be a rendering of the original Hebrew shamar, it would not really matter because the difference between “keeping” and “multiplying” is in fact 58

See Jacques-Paul Migne, ed., Patrologia Graeca (Paris: 1857–1866) 24.686–687; Wilhelm Schneemelcher and Robert McLachlan Wilson, New Testament Apocrypha (Philadelphia: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005) 1.161–162. Cf. Piper, The Gospel Behind the Gospels 296. 59 This is confirmed by Alice Whealey, “The Greek Fragments Attributed to Eusebius of Caesarea’s Theophania,” VC 69 (2015) 22. Note that in Luke, even though ten slaves are mentioned in the beginning, only three are mentioned in the accounting phase. 60 This is the text as rendered by Petri Luomanen, Recovering Jewish-Christian Sects and Gospels (Supplements to Vigiliae Christianae 110; Leiden : Brill, 2012) 128. He refers to the translation of Albertus Frederik Johannes Klijn, Jewish-Christian Gospel Tradition (Supplements to Vigiliae Christianae 17; Leiden : Brill, 1992), which he modified. See also n. 58. 61 Luomanen, Recovering Jewish-Christian Sects and Gospels 131, favors the first reading (the one who saves is praised) because it fits “Mediterranean anthropology” and biblical law against taking interest (Deut 23:19–20). He refers to the rabbinic tradition in b. B. Meṣ. 42a that burying money was seen as a valuable wise option, but he does not mention the mashal in Sipre Deuteronomy which serves as another argument that in contemporary Jewish thought which applied these images to the “keeping of Torah,” hiding the talent would be a valuable option, especially when compared with wasting it. 62 Eusebius uses ἀποκρύπτω, a different verb than both Matthew (κρύπτω) and Luke (ἀπόκειμαι).

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erased in the rabbinic parable of the denars in that one who “keeps” Torah and not just “hears” it cannot but “multiply” it. That may be the reason why the rabbinic version has only two slaves. II.2 The Pattern “Traveling Master – Appointed Overseer” in Early Jewish Christian and Rabbinic Texts In the following I will discuss some more parables that share the pattern of the “master-overseer,” but that focus on the way the overseers deal with entrusted land or properties, rather than money. The pattern we will discern in these parables contains the same five steps as found in the previously studied parables. Several New Testament parables come to mind. The first is the parable of the wicked tenants which is found in the three Synoptic Gospels and the Gospel of Thomas. 63 I quote Matt 21:33–41: 33 There was a landowner who planted a vineyard and put a wall around it and dug a wine press in it and built a tower (cf. Isa 5:1–2) and rented it out to vine-growers and went on a journey. 34 When the harvest time approached, he sent his slaves to the vine-growers to receive his produce. 35 The vine-growers took his slaves and beat one, and killed another, and stoned a third. 36 Again he sent another group of slaves larger than the first; and they did the same thing to them. 37 But afterward he sent his son to them, saying, “They will respect my son.” 38 But when the vine-growers saw the son, they said among themselves, “This is the heir; come, let us kill him and seize his inheritance.” 39 They took him, and threw him out of the vineyard and killed him. 40 Therefore when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those vine-growers? 41 They said to him, “He will bring those wretches to a wretched end, and will rent out the vineyard to other vine-growers who will pay him the proceeds at the proper seasons.” 42 Jesus said to them, “Did you never read in the Scriptures: ‘The stone which the builders rejected, this became the chief corner stone. This came about from the Lord, and it is marvelous in our eyes’ (Ps 118:22–23)? 43 Therefore I say to you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people producing the fruit of it. 44 And he who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; but on whomever it falls, it will scatter him like dust.”

Note that this parable by Jesus contains an explicit nimshal in which he refers to a biblical text: Ps 118:22–23. In the Gospel of Thomas, interestingly, we don’t find the nimshal but the familiar “He who has ears, let him hear,” which seems to function as an alternative for a nimshal.64 The main points of this story can be listed as follows: 1. A master goes on a journey; 2. He entrusts property (a vineyard) with vine-growers; 3. He settles accounts (without returning, by means of slaves, sַ on); 4. The vine-growers misbehave; 5. The vine-growers are punished. 63

This parable also occurs in Mark 12:1–9, Luke 20:9–15 and The Gospel of Thomas 65. In the three NT versions the owner of the vineyard goes on a journey, in the Gospel of Thomas this is not mentioned. This confirms my thesis, developed in this essay, that the journey is an optional but not necessary part of the pattern “master-overseer.” 64 See n. 30.

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Note that elements 3–4 of the pattern are reversed here with respect to the three parables studied so far. The behavior of the tenants is now mentioned after the settling of the account. In the previous three parables this was mentioned before the settling of accounts, which in most cases coincided with the return of the master.65 A second example is a very complete case of a traveling master narrative, featuring all the topoi and more details than found in the other parables discussed in this paper. I refer to the famous fifth parable in the Shepherd of Hermas (55[V.2]) in which a master goes on a journey. In this case there is only one appointed overseer: a slave to whom he entrusts the care of his vineyard. He promises a reward to the slave in case he does well. The slave does better than expected. When the master returns, he settles accounts together with his son and his friends, and the slave is rewarded with manumission. 1 Listen to this parable I am about to tell you, for it relates to fasting. 2 There was a person who owned a field and many slaves, and he planted a vineyard in part of the field. And he chose a certain slave who was most trustworthy and pleasing to him. When he was about to go on a journey, he called him in and said to him, “Take this vineyard that I have planted and build a fence around it before I return, and do nothing else to the vineyard. Do what I have commanded, and I will set you free.” And the master of the slave went away on his journey. 3 When he had gone, his slave took the vineyard and built a fence around it. When he finished the fence, he saw that the vineyard was full of weeds. 4 And so he reasoned to himself, “Ί have finished what the lord commanded; so now I will dig in this vineyard. Once it is dug it will be more attractive, and without the weeds it will give more fruit, since it will not be choked by the weeds.” So he dug the vineyard and removed all the weeds that were in it. And that vineyard became more attractive and flourishing, since there were no weeds that could choke it. 5 After some time the master of both field and slave returned and came into the vineyard. When he saw that the vineyard was attractively fenced and even more that it was dug, with all the weeds removed, and that the vines were flourishing, he was extremely pleased with what the slave had done. 6 So he called his beloved son, who was to be his heir, and his friends, who served as his advisors, and he told them everything he had commanded his slave and everything he found accomplished. And they congratulated the slave for the good testimony that the master had given him. 7 He said to them, “I promised to free this slave if he did what I commanded him.”66

65 Buth and Kvasnica read this parable against the background of Jesus’ struggle with the Temple authorities. More specifically, they read the criminal behavior of the vine grower as a reference to the tithe-evading of the High Priestly family. See Randall Buth and Brian Kvasnica, “Temple Authorities and Tithe-Evasion: The Linguistic Background and Impact of the Parable of the Vineyard, the Tenants and the Son”, in Notley and Turnage, Jesus’ Last Week, 53–80. See also n. 71 for a comparable reading of the parable of the unrighteous manager. 66 Translation Bart D. Ehrman, Lost Scriptures: Books That Did Not Make It Into the New Testament (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005) 273. See also his The Apostolic Fathers (LCL 25; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2003) 2.320–323.

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The pattern in this parable is as follows: 1. A master goes on a journey; 2a. He entrusts property (a vineyard) with a slave; 2b. The master promises a reward (manumission); 3. The slave does better than expected; 4. The master returns and settles accounts; 5. The slave is rewarded (manumission). Note that an extra point, 2b, is added to the pattern here: promise of a reward, which is in fact an anticipation of point 5. In this parable the order of 3 and 4 is again as in the three examples of the talents/minas/denars. A third example is found in a lesser-known rabbinic work known as Semachot deRabbi Ḥiyya. This work is considered tannaitic by many, just like the betterknown tractate Semachot of which it may originally have been a part.67 Rabbi Nathan used to tell a parable about a king who built a palace, and he put in it male and female slaves. He gave to them gold and silver to do business with. And he commanded them and said to them: “Beware that you don’t rob and plunder and steal from each other.” The king went abroad. The slaves started to rob and plunder and steal from each other. After some time the king came back from abroad. He found all that they had inside, and they stood outside naked. And the king took all the stolen and plundered goods from their hands. So are the wicked in this world, they rob and plunder and steal from each other, and when they die, nothing will leave with them, but they will leave naked of mitsvot and naked of good deeds, as it is said: “Do not be afraid when a man becomes rich, when the glory of his house is increased, for when he dies, he will carry nothing away; his glory will not descend after him” (Ps 49:16–7).68

This mashal displays the pattern in the following way: 1. A master entrusts property with slaves; 2a. The master goes on a journey; 2b. He gives a warning; 3. The slaves behave badly; 4. The master returns and settles accounts; 5. The slaves are punished. Note that elements 1 and 2 are reversed here. The slaves have already been entrusted with some property before the master decides to go on a journey. There is also here a warning, equaling the promise of a reward in the parable in the Shepherd (2b) that anticipates point 5. As in the rabbinic parable of the denars, this mashal comes with an explicit nimshal that applies the parable to the topic of the tractate, namely (life after) death. Being a midrashic mashal, the text concludes with a biblical quote. II.3 No Travel, But Still Master and Overseer A variation of the pattern is found in parables where it is not explicitly said that the master goes on a journey. Yet he leaves the care of some of his property to 67

M. B. Lerner in Shmuel Safrai, The Literature of the Sages, Midrash, and Targum; Liturgy, Poetry, Mysticism; Contracts, Inscriptions, Ancient Science and the Languages of Rabbinic Literature...(Compendia Rerum Iudaicarum Ad Novum Testamentum; Assen; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 2007) 391. 68 My translation of the text (3:3) found in Sefaria.com.

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an overseer because he possibly lives abroad, or at least far from his field, or whatever his business is.69 In the rather enigmatic70 parable of the squandering manager in Luke 16, all the features of the “master-overseer” parable, except for the journey, are present. 1 Now he was also saying to the disciples, “There was a rich man who had a manager [οἰκονόμον], and this manager was reported to him as squandering his possessions. 2 And he called him and said to him, ‘What is this I hear about you? Give an accounting of your management, for you can no longer be manager.’ 3 The manager said to himself, ‘What shall I do, since my master is taking the management away from me? I am not strong enough to dig; I am ashamed to beg. 4 I know what I shall do so that when I am removed from the management, people will welcome me into their homes.’ 5 And he summoned each one of his master’s debtors, and he began saying to the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’ 6 And he said, ‘A hundred measures of oil.’ And he said to him, ‘Take your bill, and sit down quickly and write fifty.’ 7 Then he said to another, ‘And how much do you owe?’ And he said, ‘A hundred measures of wheat.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill, and write eighty.’ 8 And his master praised the unrighteous manager because he had acted shrewdly.”

This parable contains an interesting twist in the “accounting” phase: at first the master punishes the manager for bad behavior, but then the manager changes his behavior with the result that his master praises him. This results in the doubling of phases 3.–5. The already well-known pattern can be displayed in the following way: 1.–2. Master appoints manager; 3a. Manager behaves badly; 4a. Master settles accounts; 5a. Manager is punished; 3b. Manager behaves differently; 4b. Master settles accounts; 5b. Manager is rewarded. The twist and reversal deserve some more attention. In vv. 3–7 it is related how the manager shrewdly reverses his ordeal by means of falsifying documents and strategically socializing with the master’s debtors. This parable is shocking in various ways: the shrewd but criminal conduct of the manager is either not noticed by the master, or it is acknowledged by the latter and, despite his own disadvantage, praised. In both cases this is a kind of “Robin Hood” story that can only be explained as social criticism of an unfair land rental situation.71 It is in line with the way Jesus is portrayed in the Gospels as one who socializes with dubious characters. This background and purpose of the parable account for the differences and even the reversal here vis-à-vis the following rabbinic mashal. 69

Kollmann, “Jesus als jüdischer Gleichnisdichter” 468. This refers especially to vv. 8b and 9, which I will keep out of the discussion here. 71 Kollmann, “Jesus als jüdischer Gleichnisdichter” 468–473, treats this parable extensively. He calls it a Schelmenstück (468) in which an “immoral hero” challenges the rich upper class. He reads the parable against the background of contemporary Palestinian land rental, which entailed social inequalities. He refers to the parable of the Wicked Tenants (see above) as an example of a story with the same social background. See also n. 65 for a comparable but different reading of the parable of the tenants by Buth and Kvasnica as referring to the violent collection of tithes by the Ηigh Priestly family. 70

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As in the NT parable of the squandering oikonomos¸ there are many examples of rabbinic parables where the master does not travel, but nevertheless appoints an epitropos or several epitropoi (often hebraicized as epitropim or epitropin). Because the element of travel is missing, step number 1. in the pattern will again be missing. The other steps, with some variations, resemble either the first set of parables (talents/minas/denars) or the second (traveling master). The following is a rather straightforward example from the tannaitic midrash Mekhilta deRabbi Ishmael. It is found in a midrash on the Ten Commandments, specifically Exod 20:2, that is introduced by a midrash and followed by an identical nimshal. R. Shim‘on b. Eleazar says: If the children of Noah were unable to keep the seven commandments which were given them, how much more all the commandments of the Torah. A parable of a king who appointed two overseers ( ‫) אפיטרופין‬: one oversaw the supply of straw, and one oversaw the supply of silver and gold. The one who oversaw the supply of straw was suspected, but he grumbled that he was not appointed over the supply of silver and gold. They said to him: “Fool! If you are suspected about the supply of straw, how could they appoint you over the supply of silver and gold!” See, these things can be deduced by reasoning from light to heavy.72 If they were not able to keep the seven commandments which were given to the children of Noah, how much more all the commandments of the Torah.73

The pattern we discern here is: 1.–2. A master appoints overseers (unevenly: one over silver and gold, one over straw); 3. They deal differently with the property entrusted to them: the one overseeing silver and gold does well, the one overseeing straw does poorly; 4. Accounts are settled; 5. The one who did poorly is scorned.74 II.4 Same Pattern, Different Content Despite the variations in content, all the parables discussed in this paper appear to be constructed along the lines of a very simple pattern.

72

In Hebrew: qal vachomer. This conclusion a minori ad maius is the first of the seven hermeneutical rules of Hillel. See Stemberger, Einleitung 29. 73 Mek. R. Ish., Bachodesh 5 on Exod 20:2; translation Teugels, The Meshalim in the Mekhiltot 425–426. 74 In Luke 12:42–48 and Matt 24: 45–51 a comparison is made between two kinds of overseers, slaves. I am hesitant to call this text an actual parable because it is missing some essential characteristics. The introduction “who then is…” rather resembles the beginning of a nimshal than a mashal. Also the pattern that we have discerned in the parables in this paper would be difficult to discern here as the good and the bad slave are treated consecutively, and not in the same story. Nevertheless, the text contains similarities to the just-quoted rabbinic parable of the two overseers, but also to the rabbinic parable of the denars, and the Lukan parable of the minas, as well as other NT parables (and that in the lost Gospel of the Hebrews) in which bad behavior is equated with squandering, eating and drinking.

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Master (needs to travel) Appoints overseer(s) over property

Divides property between sons/slaves

Overseer does well / squanders or neglects

Sons or slaves save or multiply/squander (Master returns) Settles accounts Rewards/punishes

This pattern, however, is silent about the contents: What is good or bad behavior? Who is rewarded or punished? As we have seen, in some cases (the denars), the one who saves is rewarded, whereas in a parable with a very similar plot (the minas), the one who saves is punished. In the parable of the squandering oikonomos, he is first punished for squandering but later praised for cheating. It is safe to say that the rabbinic parables quoted in this paper are rather conservative. In all the meshalim we studied, reward or punishment is attributed in an expected way: a son who saves is rewarded; a slave who maintains the property of his master well is rewarded, but one who neglects or squanders is punished. This is a line we see in many rabbinic parables because their application is often “Torah”: one who saves, studies, invests in Torah does well, one who neglects does not. This is not a dividing line between “Jewish” and “Christian” parables. It is because the parable of the wicked tenants in Matthew and the parable of the slave and the vineyard in the Shepherd of Hermas also contain no surprises with regard to reward or punishment. This is different, however, in the parables of the talents (Matthew) and the minas (Luke), and in that about the squandering oikonomos (Luke), both preserved in the New Testament. How can we explain the reversal of certain elements in these three parables, considering that the scheme along which they are built, the five-point pattern, is very similar to the scheme underlying parables with an “expected” outcome? I believe the reversals are deliberate. The intended audience knew the standard parable pattern of the (traveling) master who appoints overseers or divides property, rewards or punishes, depending on the behavior of his underlings, be them slaves, overseers or sons. The only way to explain the deviation is to take into account the function or application of the parable and of the images used therein. In the parable of the oikonomos, it has been suggested that social criticism may be the decisive factor: cheating the rich landlord is allowed when this helps the indebted tenants. Does this mean that the landlord doesn’t stand for God, like the king in most early Jewish parables? I think the landlord still stands for God because in the end he praises the cheating manager, thus

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accepting his cheating behavior as a necessary means against oppression. In this shock effect the theological message becomes apparent.75 The parables of the talents and the minas – which need not be dependent on each other – contain a similar shock effect. Here the master or father is exceptionally harsh on the one who saves. Against the background of a stereotypical mashal such as that of the denars, where saving a denar refers to studying Torah, and losing it to neglecting Torah, the fact that the one who saves is punished is incomprehensible. Saving, however, received a different twist in the parables of the talents and the minas: it is equated with doing nothing.76 Moreover, saving is not opposed to squandering here, but to investing. In the application of the parables – which is not explicit but can be derived from the eschatological context (including the other parables in the literary contexts of the Gospels of Matthew and Luke) – investing means: being alert and prepared for the coming of the Messiah. By using the familiar pattern of the master-overseer setting, and deliberately inverting it at crucial points, the tellers or transmitters of these tales wanted to make a specific point, a point that distinguished them from well-known parables conveyed in the early Jewish context. Because the divergence was so evident, the extraordinary message stood out.

75

The fact that each parable, also the rabbinic meshalim, does contain an unexpected, sometimes shocking element is elaborated by Yonah Fraenkel. He calls it the “breaking of the pattern of the mashal.” See Yonah Fraenkel, Darkhei ha-aggadah vehamidrash (Givataim: Yad letalmud, 1991) 330–337. Something similar is meant by Thoma and Lauer when they refer to the chiddush that is essential to every good mashal. See Thoma, Lauer, and Ernst, Pesiqtā deRav Kahanā (PesK) 22. 76 This may have been different in the Gospel of the Hebrews, see n. 58, which could have been closer to the rabbinic version.

The Last Earthquake: Zechariah, Matthew, Peter, and the Force of Haggadah Bruce Chilton I. Introduction Haggadah, a style of Rabbinic discourse that complements halakhah, speaks in the language of assertion rather than imperative. Those assertions might appear in narratives, and in that shape various haggadoth have been compared to passages in the Gospels. Among the most frequent comparisons, the story of when Ḥanina ben Dosa healed the child of Yoḥanan ben Zakkai has been cited in regard to Jesus’ healing of the centurion’s servant (or royal official’s son),1 and Jesus’ parable of what happens when a master departs from his estate on a voyage has been assessed in relation to a similar story attributed to Rabbi Nathan.2 But the declarative function that haggadah carries out need not be narrative. Sometimes, a haggadah’s meaning is performative, as in the case of what would be called a symbol in current usage. Just as a symbol refers to a reality that it does not entirely convey, so on occasion a haggadah will, by its declaration, invoke a dimension of meaning that escapes any attempt to limit the scope of its impact. That is the case in Zech 14:4–5, where “earthquake” is used to point to a transformation much more profound than even the trembling of the earth. That haggadah exerted a profound influence within the New Testament, particularly within a Matthean stream of tradition that develops its characteristics by means of its treatment of the earthquake.

1 See b. Ber. 34b and Matt 8:5–13; Luke 7:1–10; John 4:46–53, a nexus of texts that have often been discussed; see George Foot Moore, Judaism in the First Centuries of the Christian Era (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1927) 1.377–378; Geza Vermes, Jesus the Jew (London: Collins, 1973) 72–78; and Bruce Chilton, A Galilean Rabbi and His Bible. Jesus’ own interpretation of Isaiah (London: SPCK, 1984) 30–31. 2 See Semachoth of Rabbi Chiyya 3; Matt 25:14–30; Luke 19:12–27 with discussion in Michael Higger, Treatise Semaḥot and Treatise Semaḥot of R. Ḥiyya and Sefer Ḥibbuṭ haḲeber and additions to the Seven minor treatises and to Treatise Soferim II (New York: Bloch, 1931) 221; Bruce Chilton and J. I. H. McDonald, Jesus and the Ethics of the Kingdom (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1987) 34–37.

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II. The Earthquake Topos, Zechariah, Jesus, and the Matthean Gospel Of course, the topos of an earthquake lies deep in the treatment of the revelation to Moses on Sinai, together with the motif of storm (see, for example, Exod 19:16–20). The motif was sufficiently well known that it could be challenged in the related story concern Elijah, where YHWH is described as “not in the earthquake” (1 Kgs 19:11). The relationship between these two texts illustrates how a haggadah can convey a meaning without confusing the reality it invokes with the symbol that relates that reality. The relative frequency of earthquakes makes them into possible signs of God’s presence, but requires discernment before using it to invoke that presence. By the time of Zechariah 14, the earthquake had acquired a particular sense; in the vision of the Second Isaiah, mountains were abased and valleys filled up in order to blaze a path for God with his flock to Zion (Isa 40:3–11), which was already conceived to be awaiting seismic transformation so as to become the highest of all mountains (Mic 4:1–5; Isa 2:1–4). Even in Isaiah, the purpose of movement is not only for exiles, but for YHWH and his intimate involvement with Jerusalem (Isa 40:9–10). Zechariah 14 assumes such haggadic developments of the significance of the earthquake that it relates.3 In no sense, however, is Zechariah 14 merely a repetition or palimpsest of earlier usages. Its vision is indelibly unique. Here, YHWH stands for battle astride the Mount of Olives, and his presence splits the mountain in two (Zech 14:3–4). The result permits movement both for those who flee as in the days of Uzziah (cf. Amos 1:1 and Isaiah 6) and, by means of a movement toward Zion, for God with his “holy ones” (14:5), signaling the cosmic centrality of Jerusalem and the worship of God within it (14:6–21). From the development of this haggadah (probably during the fifth century BCE),4 neither the earthquake nor the Mount of Olives would be conceived of in the same way again. Indeed, it is interesting how little the Mount of Olives features in the Hebrew Bible prior to Zechariah. The Gospels, of course, more than compensate for any previous biblical silence in regard to the Mount of Olives. It is prominently mentioned in association with Jesus’ approach to and stay in Jerusalem as well as the site of Jesus’ eschatological discourse (Matt 21:1; 24:3; 26:30; Mark 11:1; 13:3; 3 For further discussion, see Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, The Prophets of Old and the Day of the End. Zechariah, the Book of Watchers and Apocalyptic (Oudtestamentlische Studiën 35; Leiden: Brill, 1996) 214–241, and Katrina J. A. Larkin, The Eschatology of Second Zechariah. A study of the formation of a mantological Wisdom anthology (Contributions to Biblical Exegesis and Theology 6; Kampen: Kok Pharos, 1994) 180–220. 4 Cf. Carol L. Meyers and Eric M. Meyers, Zechariah 9–14. A New Translation with Commentary (AB 25C; New York: Doubleday, 1993) 13–84.

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14:26; Luke 19:29; 21:37; 22:39). That speech, uniquely coherent within the Synoptic Gospels and of an unusual, apocalyptic tenor, features earthquake within the events of the final time (e.g. in Mark 13:8), as well as the forecast that the sun and moon will no longer shine normally (Mark 13:24), a version of the surreal “one day” of Zech 14:6–7. The discourse evidently also involves key citations of and allusions to the book of Daniel, but the Synoptics embody a clear thread of Zecharian images, particularly the Gospel according to Matthew. Charlene McAfee Moss argues that these include the presentation of Jesus as “Davidic Branch, Savior, Emmanuel and Nazarene” (Matt 1:18–25; 2:1–6; cf. Zech 6:12; 8:7, 11–13; 9:16),5 and as “Healing Shepherd” (Matt 9:36, cf. Zech 10:2 and the Targum),6 “The Humble Messianic King” (Matt 21:5 with 11:25–30; cf. Zech 9:9 with 14:4–5),7 “The Prophet from Nazareth in Galilee” (Matt 21:12–16; cf. Zech 14:21);8 as well as in relation to “The Blood of Zechariah” (Matt 23:35; Zech 1:1–7,)9 to “The Matthean Apocalypse” (Matt 24:27, 30–31, 36–44; 25:31; cf. Zech 2:6, 10; 9:14; 12:10; 14:4–7),10 to the role of the blood of the covenant in the “Forgiveness of Sins” (Matt 26:28; cf. Zech 9:11),11 to the image of the “Stricken Shepherd” (Matt 26:31; cf. Zech 13:7),12 to the “Thirty Pieces of Silver” (Matt 26:14–16; 27:3–10; cf. Zech 11:4–14),13 to the charge of “Rebuilding the Temple” (Matt 26:60–61; cf. Zech 6:12),14 to “Eschatological Signs” (Matt 27:51; cf. Zech 14:4–5),15 and to the motif of “The Shepherd King” on the Mount of Olives (Matt 21:1–11; 24:3; 26:30–56; cf. Zech 9:9; 13:7; 14:4–5).16 In many cases, the influence of Zechariah on Matthew is not conveyed by direct quotation, although citations of that kind are also prominent. In aggregate, connections between the two texts suggest that materials in Zechariah have exerted an influence on the Gospels as a whole, rather than on Matthew alone. When that suggestion is entertained, other links become apparent. A reading of the Transfiguration as a disclosure of the heavenly court has been 5

See Charlene McAfee Moss, Zechariah and the Gospel of Matthew (BZNW 156; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2008) 13–40. In an earlier work, I also made reference to Zech 5:3–4 in respect of Matt 5:33–37 and Zech 13:1 in respect of Jesus’ program of purity; see The Temple of Jesus. His Sacrificial Program Within a Cultural History of Sacrifice (University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 1992) 135–136. These might be added to Moss’s catalogue. 6 Moss, 41–60, with reference to the Targum of Zechariah on pp. 51–52. 7 Moss, 61–88. 8 Moss, 89–102. 9 Moss, 103–126. 10 Moss, 127–149. 11 Moss, 151–155. 12 Moss, 157–170. 13 Moss, 171–188. 14 Moss, 189–195; cf. the Targum and Tg. Isa 53:2 (pp. 190–191). 15 Moss, 197–201; cf. trumpet and resurrection in Tg. Zech 14:4–5 (p. 199). 16 Moss, 203–207.

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strengthened by the observation of Craig Evans,17 who shows that the reference to “those standing here” in Zech 3:7, an evident reference to those who serve God, is picked up at the outset of the Transfiguration (Mark 9:1). This accords with the Matthean characterization of the story as a vision (Matt 17:9), a factor which Derek Dodson has taken to confirm the reading of the Transfiguration, not as a misplaced resurrection narrative, but as a passage with its own structure and integrity.18 One reason for the Zecharian thread within the Synoptic Gospels relates to Jesus’ program of activity in Jerusalem.19 Jesus is portrayed in all the Gospels as challenging priestly control of the Temple and of worship there. He expelled from the Temple those who made worship possible in the eyes of the priestly establishment: the money-changers, who exchanged various foreign currencies for the coinage accepted in the Temple, and the vendors of the sacrificial animals (Matt 21:12–17; Mark 11:15–19; Luke 19:45–46; John 2:14–16). Jesus had organized his followers to strike against the center of Judaism in this way in order to protest the policies of the High Priest Caiaphas. Caiaphas, as the Gospels show, permitted vendors to set up shop in the Great Court of the Temple. As a peasant from Galilee, Jesus believed that the offerings brought to the Temple should not be purchased there, but that Israelites should offer of their own produce. At the same time, Caiaphas had removed the council of local religious leaders called the Sanhedrin from the Temple to Chanuth, the market on the Mount of Olives. According to the Babylonian Talmud (b. Šabb. 15a; Sanh. 41a; ‘Abod. Zar. 8b), the Sanhedrin was “exiled” from its site in the Temple, the Chamber of Hewn Stone, forty years before the destruction of the Temple. Although that number is general, it corresponds to the timing of Jesus’ dispute in the Temple. Jesus’ protest amounted to an objection to innovation on the part of the priestly elite, but he also went to the extreme of predicting the Temple’s de17

Craig Evans, “Zechariah in the Markan Passion Narrative,” Biblical Interpretation in Early Christian Gospels. I: The Gospel of Mark, ed. Thomas R. Hatina (London: Clark/Continuum, 2006) 64–80, 68. 18 Derek S. Dodson, Reading Dreams. An Audience Critical Approach to the Dreams in the Gospel of Matthew (LNTS; London: Continuum/Clark, 2009) 176–182, following an approach I earlier suggested in “The Transfiguration: Dominical Assurance and Apostolic Vision,” NTS 27.1 (1980) 115–124, and “Transfiguration,” The Anchor Bible Dictionary, ed. David N. Freedman (New York: Doubleday, 1992) 6.640–642. 19 This point of view is represented in Cecil Roth, “The Cleansing of the Temple and Zechariah XIV 21,” NovT 4 (1960) 174–181; Victor Eppstein, “The Historicity of the Gospel Account of the Cleansing of the Temple,” ZNW 55 (1964) 42–58; Chilton, The Temple of Jesus 91–111; A Feast of Meanings. Eucharistic Theologies from Jesus through Johannine Circles (NovTSup 72; Leiden: Brill, 1994) 57–63; Rabbi Jesus. An intimate biography (New York: Doubleday, 2000) 213–230. So also Moss, 90–97, pointing out that, whatever “Canaanite” means originally in 14:21, it referred to “traders” by the first century CE. The meaning of trader for Canaanite is discussed at a later stage in b. Pesaḥ. 50a.

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struction in a manner reminiscent of Jeremiah. Jesus contended – in the manner of many prophets before him, and with their authorization, he said – that God intended the Temple to be a place of prayer “for all nations” (Isa 56:7; cf. Mark 11:17). When he said this, he was standing in the Great Court, the only part of the Temple into which non-Jews were allowed entry. The expanded people of God belonged here as far as he was concerned, rather than commercial operations that benefited priests. The book of Zechariah had similarly predicted a revolutionary end-time, cataclysmic in its proportions, when God would gather people from all nations in a Temple where no merchant stood between the new people of God and their sacrificial worship (Zech 14:21). For Jesus to prophesy Gentile access could only have been regarded by the priestly establishment as a threat to the sanctity of the Temple, as the place where a ritually pure Israel met their God. The priests could scarcely overlook the challenge that Jesus’ utterances and actions represented, since they implied that the Temple’s status quo was expendable as the point of connection between God and his people, and that access to Israel’s God should be open to non-Jews. Moreover, of course, Jesus’ actions directly contradicted Caiaphas’ authority over the Temple on the basis of the prophetic authorization for his actions that he claimed. Recourse to an understanding of Zechariah as vindicating Jesus’ action therefore follows from Jesus’ own perspective. But that does not account for the earthquake that Matthew relates, embedded within elements that are shared with other Gospels (Matt 27:45–56): But from the sixth hour it became dark upon all the earth until the ninth hour. Yet around the ninth hour Jesus bellowed in a loud voice, saying, Eloi, Eloi, lemma sabakhthani, which is: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Certain of those standing there heard and were saying that: He is calling Elijah. And at once one of them ran, took a sponge and filled it with vinegar, put it on a reed and gave him to drink. But the rest said, “Let be; let’s see if Elijah comes, saving him.” Jesus again shouted in a loud voice and let out the spirit. And look: the curtain of the Temple was split from top to bottom in two, and the earth quaked, and the rocks were split, and the memorials were opened and many bodies of the holy ones who slept were raised; they came out from the memorials after his raising and entered into the holy city and were manifested to many. The centurion and those with him guarding Jesus saw the quake and the happenings and were excessively frightened, saying, “Truly this was God’s Son.” Yet there were there many women observing from a distance, such as had followed Jesus from Galilee, providing for him, among whom were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee.

In addition to introducing the motif of an earthquake, Matthew disrupts its own narrative sequence by referring to events in Jerusalem after Jesus’ “raising” (v. 53, egersis), a noun which directly correlates what happens in his case to the manifestation of the holy ones in Jerusalem. In both regards, the introduction of the earthquake and the odd timing of its presentation, the apocalyptic significance of this depiction is manifest.

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Zech 14:3–7 presents the earthquake from the Mount of Olives as a key event in Jerusalem’s eschatological triumph. The Targum of Zechariah refers to that victory as when the kingdom of the LORD will be revealed upon all the dwellers of the earth (Tg. Zech. 14:9).20 Even more to the point, the Targum in the Codex Reuchlinianus refers to when the trumpet will be blown before God (v. 4), “At the time the Lord will take in hand the great trumpet and blow ten blasts upon it to revive the dead.”21 Targum Jonathan, then, reflects the nexus of resurrection, earthquake, trumpet, and kingdom that Matthew’s final chapters also articulate. Dependence need not be posited one way or another for the commonality of motifs to be observed. Because Matthew is dealing with events that transcend time, anachronism is not incidental, but a feature of the narrative. Armand Puig I Tàrrech observes the close association between the “holy ones” returning bodily to Jerusalem and 2 Bar. 50:2–3, in the course of his argument that Matt 27:51b–53 represent a “primitive apocalyptic fragment” based on Ezekiel 37,22 but the influence of Zech 14:5 is manifest. In these and other respects, Matthew may lie as close to Aramaic tradition as does Mark. Rather than give the Hebrew form for “my God” (’ly) in Matt 27:46 and Mark 15:34, following the Hebrew of Ps 22:2, they both approximate to the Aramaic form (’lhy, see – for example – Dan 6:23) in their transliterations, although the manuscript tradition tends to change in the direction 20

See Kevin Cathcart and Robert P. Gordon (ed. and tr.), The Targum of the Minor Prophets 224. Such usages of God’s kingdom are featured in Chilton, “Regnum Dei Deus Est,” SJT 31 (1978) 261–270; The Historical Jesus in Recent Research, ed. James D. G. Dunn and Scot McKnight (Sources for Biblical and Theological Study, 10; Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2005) 115–122; and Targumic Approaches to the Gospels. Essays in the Mutual Definition of Judaism and Christianity (Studies in Judaism; Lanham and London: University Press of America, 1986) 99–107. Cathcart and Gordon assimilate that analysis and agree (pp. 16–18) with the existence of exegetical frameworks both prior to and after the destruction of the Second Temple as set out in Chilton, The Glory of Israel. The Theology and Provenience of the Isaiah Targum (JSOTSup 23; Sheffield: JSOT, 1982). They err in attributing the view to me that pre-70 strata predominate in the Targum. See also Chilton, The Isaiah Targum. Introduction, Translation, Apparatus, and Notes. 21 See the observation and further citations of Moss, 171. The Aramaic text is available in Alexander Sperber, The Bible in Aramaic III. The Latter Prophets according to Targum Jonathan 497. The reading picks up from Zech 9:14 and Isa 27:13, in all cases a shôfar. 22 See Armand Puig i Tàrrech, “Els sants que ressusciten (Mt 27,51b–53,” Estudis de Nou Testament (Collectània Sant Pacià 108; Barcelona: Facultat de Teolgia de Catalunya, 2014) 131–169,161, cf. 135, 148–149, 167–168, and Christian Grappe, L’au-delà dans la Bible. Le temporal et le spatial (MdB 68; Fribourg: Labor et Fides, 2014) 211–212. These views are anticipated in Roger David Aus, Samuel, Saul and Jesus. Three Early Palestinian Jewish Christian Haggadoth (SFSHJ 105; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994) 109–187. Although his argument is that 1 Samuel 28 is formative within the tradition, he also documents the haggadic development of Zechariah 14 and its relationship to the Matthean portrayal, especially on pp. 116–120.

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of the Hebrew form.23 This may be motivated by a desire to explain the misunderstanding of the bystanders when Jesus called on God, not Elijah. Although comparative treatment of Matthew’s earthquake with other Gospels may appear to atomize its presentation, as one omen among others, the sequel in the narrative of Jesus’ Resurrection offers a thread of coherence (Matt 28:1–2): But evening of Sabbaths, at the brightening for first of Sabbaths, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to observe the tomb. And look: there was a great quake, because a Lord’s messenger descended from heaven, came forward, rolled away the stone and sat over it.

Matthew has Mary Magdalene go to the tomb with “the other Mary” (Matt 28:1), and he uses the plural of “Sabbath” to signal the opening of the entire week, but clearly during the night. The usage in respect of the week, common in the New Testament, contrasts with hebdomas in Hellenistic usage.24 Although Mark represents its own liturgical timing for the events, Matthew aligns with the vigil of Easter, kept from the evening when Sabbath begins, and marking the Resurrection as the light that dawns in darkness. This accords with sources such as the Peri Paskha of Melito of Sardis, where the sacrifice of lambs during the night of Passover offers a type of Christ’s death (Peri Paskha 5, 7, 32–33, 60, 67, 69, 71).25 The close connection between Passover and Easter could lead to keeping the Quartodeciman calendar with Matthew taken as a support,26 but the association need not be strictly linked to that practice. For Melito, Christ was killed in the evening, and buried at night (Peri Paskha 71). It is unclear whether this other Mary is supposed to be the same person as Mark’s “Mary of James” (Mark 16:1), and Matthew somehow loses track of Salome – unless, following a harmonizing tradition of interpretation, she is taken as “the mother of the sons of Zebedee” in Matt 27:5627 – although Mark names her as one of the women at the tomb. These are indications that this 23 See Kurt and Barbara Aland, Johannes Karavidopoulos, Carlo M. Martini, Bruce M. Metzger, Novum Testamentum Graece (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 201228). Aus in Samuel, Saul and Jesus 133 also concludes that the tradition derives from an Aramaic source that Matthew incorporates. 24 See Henry George Liddell and Robert Scott, eds., A Greek-English Lexicon (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996) 466. 25 See Stewart J. Hall, Melito of Sardis, Peri Pascha and Fragments (Oxford Early Christian Texts; Oxford: Clarendon, 1979). 26 See Cyril C. Richardson, “The Quartodecimans and the Synoptic Chronology,” in HTR 33.3 (1940) 177–190, 186–187. 27 In recent years, an identification forcefully argued by Richard Bauckham, “The Relatives of Jesus,” in Themelios 21, no. 2 (1996) 18–21. Whatever the merits of that case, I would caution that there is a persistent tendency to argue about gnats that indicate a difference between the Markan and Matthean accounts, when an earthquake bigger than a camel is the real issue.

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key story was reshaped as it was passed on by word of mouth prior to the writing of the Gospels – and that reshaping came at the cost of destabilizing the memory of particular women, even as preferences were evidently expressed. At least, however, Matthew’s language of Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary” is consistent (unlike Mark’s) between the scene of the interment (Matt 27:61) and their visit to the tomb after the Sabbath. Although the verb “perceive” is absent in the earlier case (as compared to Mark 15:47), Matthew preserves the usage in 28:1. That is the sole residue of preparation for a visionary narrative, which has largely been overtaken by the apocalyptic intervention of an earthquake and an angel. These indications tell against the view that Matthew is simply an updated edition of Mark, a direct copy of the original Gospel with additions. On this view, Matthew abbreviates Mark, eliminating the liturgical pacing in favor of the apocalyptic notice of the earthquake (Matt 28:2). But wide variations among the Gospels in wording, style, order and content urge caution in relation to this theory.28 An alternative reading of the evidence accounts for variations which the standard theory cannot accommodate.29 On this view, the differences go far beyond slips of a copyist’s stylus. We can better account for disparities such as changing the names of the women at the tomb by supposing that each Gospel is a product of interacting oral and written traditions. Mary Magdalene survives Matthew’s preference for apocalyptic materials, but barely. Matthew ignores her whole purpose in coming to the tomb. She and the “other” Mary come, not to anoint Jesus, but only to “perceive” his grave. But the threefold usage in Mark, to signal the women’s witness of the death, burial, and vision (Mark 15:40, 47; 16:4), is not maintained. That change breaks the link with the woman with the alabaster jar (Mark 14:3–9), although at least Matthew preserves this narrative (26:6–13), while Luke omits it completely. Breaking the link between Mary’s ritual anointing and Jesus’ resurrection attenuates her role, but an even deeper reduction in her importance in Matthew, as compared to Mark, follows. Matthew undermines the women’s vision at the tomb. Before we read about Mary’s experience with her colleagues, Matthew refers to the earthquake that signals Jesus’ triumph over death – an haggadic event that appears in Matthew alone among the Gospels without leaving a trace in historical sources from the period.

28 For a representative example of the textbook presentation, see Mark Allan Powell, Fortress Introduction to the Gospels (Minneapolis: Fortress,1998). 29 See Chilton, Targumic Approaches to the Gospels. Essays in the Mutual Definition of Judaism and Christianity (Studies in Judaism; Lanham and London: University Press of America, 1986); Profiles of a Rabbi. Synoptic Opportunities in Reading about Jesus (BJS 177; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989); A Feast of Meanings.

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In that this is the second reference to the earthquake in the Gospel according to Matthew (cf. 27:51–53, cited above), Matthew is ambivalent about its own chronology, so the hearer or reader cannot tell when exactly this earthquake was supposed to have occurred. Presumably, it coincides with the moment of Jesus’ Resurrection, because Matthew’s conception is that this moment alone marks an apocalyptic breakthrough that shows how believers will be raised. It represents a literally seismic shift to a physical rather than visionary belief in Jesus’ Resurrection. At the same time, the earthquake features an angel (Matt 28:2; cf. 1:20, 24; 2:13, 19) as a divine response to the sealing of the tomb by the guard, a factor that makes any reference to the women wishing to anoint Jesus senseless, and Matthew does not retain that element from Markan tradition. The focus is on the messenger as the Lord’s, and his function is to roll away the stone – implicitly opening the memorials of the “holy ones” at the same time. The earthquake, mentioned earlier in Matt 28:2, is woven into the description of the angel’s appearance because the guards are “shaken” (v. 4), a verb cognate with the noun that speaks of the great earthquake. And that reference resumes the description in Matt 27:51b–53 of the resurrection of “many bodies” of the “holy ones” that appeared after Jesus was raised, which appeared to “many” in Jerusalem. Once that notice is read in association with Matthew’s description of the vision at the tomb, it makes Jesus’ Resurrection into what Paul calls aparkhê, “primal offering”30 (1 Cor 15:23). Taken together, the elements of this tradition portray the Resurrection of Jesus as a fulfilled apocalyptic breakthrough, which begins with his restoration to life and continues with those of the “holy ones”.31 Given the importance of the final chapter of Zechariah within the narrative of Jesus’ last actions in Jerusalem, it is notable that that work prophecies both an earthquake and the coming of the “holy ones” (Zech 14:5). That is, Matthew combines a source comparable to Mark’s with a source that pursues the connection of the events concerning

30 Conventionally translated “first fruits,” this term refers sacrificially in the Septuagint (Lev 23:10) to the initial portion of any kind of offering, animal or plant. In this case, the Resurrection marks a shift as crucial as the death of Adam. Adam’s death means ours, just as Jesus’ Resurrection means ours (1 Cor 15:22). Paul can also use the term of the gift of the Spirit (Rom 8:23) that longs for “the redemption of our bodies.” See Christian Grappe, L’audelà dans la Bible: Le temporal et le spatial 197–198. 31 As Aus (Samuel, Saul and Jesus 133) concludes, this haggadah “stated theologically that already at Jesus’ death the turn of the ages had arrived.” His view of the assertion is that “it was not meant by the original Palestinian Jewish Christian author to be taken literally.” It seems to me that the presentation in the connection with the guards (see below) goes out of its way to explain why real events can go unperceived. The sense in which they are literal or not, therefore, is problematic.

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Jesus with the apocalyptic expectation of Zechariah.32 By that combination, the substance of what the angel says is no longer that he is not Jesus (as in Mark), but that Jesus is the first to be raised, just like the bodies of the holy ones who appeared in Jerusalem. The unique introduction of the role of the guards is key to the Matthean presentation (Matt 27:62–66): On the next day, which was after the Preparation, the high priests and the Pharisees were gathered together to Pilate, saying, “Lord, we remember that that deceiver said while alive, ‘After three days, I am raised.’ So command the grave to be secured until the third day. Otherwise, the students might come steal him and say to the people, ‘He is raised from the dead’ – and the final deception will be worse than the first!” Pilate told them, “You have a patrol: depart, secure as you know.” They proceeded and secured the grave, sealing the stone with the patrol.

Matthew presents a substantial insertion concerning the guard at the tomb. The experience of the earthquake and the angel by the guards and their willingness to broadcast the lie (concocted by high priests and elders) that Jesus’ body had been stolen (Matt 28:2–4, 11–15), underscores the physical explanation of the resurrection. The assumption of the dialogue between the Pharisees and Pilate is that Jesus’ prediction that he would be raised from the dead contradicts the theme in the Gospels of his secrecy concerning his true status, and it also does not agree with the pragmatic issue of the Temple as the flashpoint of Jesus’ controversy in Jerusalem with both Judaic and Roman authorities. Likewise, Matthew’s insertion portrays Pharisees as having charge of the police force associated with the Temple, when in fact that was under the immediate control of the high priest. One way to address the last difficulty is to suppose that Pilate’s statement in Matt 27:65 (ekhete) should be inflected to mean, “Have a patrol,” rather than, “You have a patrol.” Although that is possible, by this stage in Matthew the high priests and elders have set the conditions necessary for the crucifixion by means of an armed force (see 26:4, 47, 50, 55). The issue in the appeal to Pilate is for permission to act outside the Temple. But that finding only heightens the oddity of involving Pharisees at this stage, an oddity compounded by supposing that the events unfolded “after the Preparation,” when the Sabbath would have begun (Matt 27:62). The appearance of incongruity suggests that Matthew relies on a tradition which intends to censure Jewish authorities in particular, but is not fully in charge of an understanding of the strictures of Judaism. The depiction of Jesus in Matt 27:63, 64 as a “deceiver,” and of his movement as “deceit,” confirms this impression. The charge agrees with the word32

In a separate article, I have identified this source with Silas/Silvanus; see “David Wenham, ‘the little Apocalypse,’ Paul – and Silas,” forthcoming. The argument is too involved to offer a summary here.

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ing of a later Talmudic tradition (b. Sanh. 43a), according to which Jesus was executed (but by stoning, and after judicious inquiry) for leading the people astray.33 This tradition also considers Jesus a “deceiver” (mesith), as defined by the root verb in Deut 13:1–11, who entices Israel to serve false gods. The punishment demanded is stoning, and that is the means of Jesus’ death here. Although this story is late and loosely acquainted with the narrative of Jesus, the charge of deception, reflected in Matthew as well as in John 7:11 and Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho 69.7; 108.2,34 appears to have been an early objection to Jesus and his movement. In Matthew’s treatment, the guards become the principal guarantors of conceiving of Jesus’ Resurrection in physical terms. There can be no question of an “empty tomb” here (as in Luke 24:3) because the Matthean earthquake literally changes the geography of Jerusalem, rendering the physical status of many tombs in the area indeterminate.35 What Matthew’s approach achieves, at the cost of reducing the role of the women and making any categorical statement about Jesus’ place of burial impossible, is a distinctive emphasis on the apocalyptic transformation of the righteous dead, with Jesus’ Resurrection as the vanguard of that change. Matthew’s procedure is to bring the initially visionary narrative of Mary Magdalene into line with the apocalyptic reasoning that he prefers. This result is achieved by deploying an angel, an explicitly angelic interpretation, an earthquake, resisters against revelation subject to punishment (the guards), as well as favored witnesses (the women), all elements that also feature in the uniquely Matthean expansion of the “Little Apocalypse” (Matthew 25). In effect, Jesus is raised here—and only here—in a manner fully commensurate with the Matthean parable of how the Son of Man comes in glory (Matt 25:31–46), in his parousia. Apocalypse emerges as the substance of vision. Within Matthew’s apocalyptic conception, disruption is more vital than continuity. That is exemplified by the imagery of the angel sitting on what is left of the tomb and explaining the significance of events to the women (Matt 28:3–7). The tomb is neither inspected nor found empty. The angel directs the women to look at something (v. 6) that had once been a burial cave, but is no longer. The explicit absence of Jesus’ body features not in the angel’s announcement but in the false story concocted by the high priests and elders (Matt 28:11–15), that Jesus’ students had stolen his corpse. For Matthew, the 33

For a recent discussion, see Peter Schäfer, “Jesus’ Execution” in Jesus in the Talmud (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007) 63–74. 34 See in Philippe Bobichon, Justin Martyr. Dialogue avec Tryphon. Edition critique (Paradosis 47.1, 2; Fribourg: Academic Press, 2003) 377, 474. 35 The findings in this closing treatment of Matthew’s presentation (as well as some of the preceding notes) were first forwarded in Resurrection Logic. How Jesus’ First Followers Believed God Raised Him from the Dead (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2019) 173–174. I appreciate the publisher’s permission to make use of that material here.

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absence of the body does not prove the Resurrection; only Jesus’ apocalyptic presence – together with the saints that rose with him (Matt 27:52–53) – can do that, and even then there is room for doubt (Matt 28:17). The physicality of the Resurrection proceeds from its status as the definitive and first moment of the age that is coming, not because it extends the terms and conditions of the present age. The Matthean angel uniquely explains that Jesus “is not here, because he has been raised” (v. 6). The Resurrection determines physical reality rather than being its product. Matthew weaves this bold conception into the presentation of the guards. In the face of events, and the angel in particular, they “shook from fear and became like the dead” (Matt 28:3–4). With that description, they are removed from the witnessing position of the women, who are told not to fear (28:5) and who go on to hear the announcement of the angel and even (uniquely in Matthew) to encounter Jesus (28:6–10). Some of the contingent who had custody of the tomb, however, also return to the city and the high priests, recounting “everything that had happened” (28:11). As they had been gripped by fear when the angel appeared, so they are gripped by greed when they enter the city, because they accept payment from the high priests and elders to tell a false story (28:12–15). Their stupor is more extreme than that of the sleeping disciples at Gethsemane (Matt 26:36–46), and yet in line with the reaction of the same three (Peter, James, and John) at the Transfiguration (17:1). Their acceptance of payment, however, aligns with the behavior of Judas (26:14–16, 25) and perhaps a shared fate is intimated (27:3–10). Even so, they tell more than those who did not belong to the group who returned; presumably, they are understood to scatter in panic. In any case, they exemplify those who hear and see without perceiving, a motif from Isaiah (6:9, also deployed in Mark 4:1236) that Matthew cites as fulfilled (13:13–17) in the most extensive treatment in all the Gospels. Even the remaining Eleven (the Twelve less one) are described as reacting along a spectrum from worship to doubt (28:17).

36

Mark cites the passage in targumic form while Matthew follows the Septuagint; see Paul Flesher and Bruce Chilton, The Targums. A Critical Introduction (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2011, and Leiden: Brill, 2011) 391.

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III. The Gospel According to Peter The presentation of the earthquake and its attendant elements in Matthew is followed closely in The Gospel According to Peter, where the haggadah is developed further (Peter 5:15–6:21)37: Yet it was midday, and darkness took hold of all Judea; and they were distressed and anxious that somehow the sun had set, since he was still living. It is written for them, “Let not the sun set on one put to death.” And someone of them said, “Give him to drink bile with vinegar”; and having blended, they gave to drink. And they fulfilled all things and completed the sins on their head. But many went around with lamps, thinking it was night, and they fell. And the Lord bellowed out, saying, “My power, my power, you have forsaken me.” And having said this, he was taken up. And at the same hour the veil of the Jerusalem sanctuary was torn into two. And then they drew out the nails from the hands of the Lord and placed him on the earth; and all the earth was shaken, and a great fear happened.

Peter speaks of midday, rather than of the sixth hour (as in the Synoptics), and the reference to the sun may be derived from Luke 23:44. The fear of the darkness is explained in terms of an inadvertent breaking of the Torah, a motif which picks up from earlier (Peter 5:15). When Pilate (on behalf of his friend Joseph) asks Herod for permission to bury Jesus, Herod explains that, in any case with the Sabbath on the way, they would not let the sun set on one killed (Peter 2:2–5). As Timothy Henderson observes,38 the use of the verb phoneuô removes the sense of a justifiable execution present in Deut 21:22– 23. The suggestion of parody (together with ambient anti-Judaism) is implicit in the statement that the law was written “for them,” and becomes overt in the description of their stumbling about, as at night (Peter 5:18–19). They are more concerned about the timing of their crime than its injustice, and they grope about at noon as in the dark (cf. Deut 28:29; Isa 59:10; Amos 8:9). In between these two statements, concerning the sun and the lamps (Peter 5:15, 18) comes the notice about the offer of a drink, here assumed to be malevolent, and completing the sins on their head (Peter 5:16–17). In this case, it is difficult to conceive of the text making sense, except to those familiar with elements from earlier Gospels: the “bile” of Matt 27:34 and the “vinegar” of 27:48; Mark 15:36; Luke 23:36; John 19:29. By changing “My God” to “My power” in Jesus’ cry, however, Peter leaves no room for the confusion over an appeal to Elijah. On the other hand, 37

Cf. Montague R. James, The Apocryphal New Testament (Oxford: Clarendon, 1924), a standard text whose divisions have become conventional. I have followed the text as established by Paul Foster, The Gospel of Peter. Introduction, Critical Edition, and Commentary (TENTS; Leiden: Brill, 2010). Raymond Brown’s translation has been made available online (http://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/gospelpeter-brown.html). 38 See Timothy P. Henderson, The Gospel of Peter and Early Christian Apologetics. Rewriting the Story of Jesus’ Death, Burial, and Resurrection (WUNT 2.301; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011) 66–69.

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“power” in Aramaic (taqoph) may appear as a periphrasis for God (and stands behind passages such as Matt 26:64; Mark 14:62; Luke 22:69, and in quite a different sense, Acts 8:10).39 H. B. Swete made a comparison to a group Ephraim associated with Bardaisan, in which a female singer recited the words, “My God and my head, you have left me alone,”40 suggesting that the declarative form of the statement presents a notable similarity. Recent interpreters have taken the statement that Jesus was “taken up” as a euphemism for his death, while earlier critics cited this as evidence of Peter’s alleged Docetism (yet cf. Acts 1:2) in having Jesus’ divine identity withdrawn prior to his actual death.41 The reality of that death, however, is confirmed by portents familiar in earlier texts (the veil and an earthquake that otherwise happens only in Matt 27:51b). The drawing out of the nails, however, is a unique detail. It appears to emphasize the reality of Jesus’ death, but in its present setting such a statement finds its effectiveness reduced by the statement that, even when crucified, Jesus was “silent as having no pain” (Peter 5:10c). In a way reminiscent of Matthew’s presentation, Peter draws attention to the haggadic earthquake a second time, by means of the story of the stone at the opening of the tomb having rolled away (The Gospel According to Peter 9:34–11:49; 12:50–13:55a): Yet early when the Sabbath was dawning, a crowd came from Jerusalem and the surrounding area in order that they might see the sealed memorial. But in the night in which the Lord’s Day dawned, when the soldiers were guarding two by two in a watch, there happened a loud voice in heaven, and they saw the heavens opened and two males descend from there, having much splendor and arriving at the tomb. Yet that stone which had been put against the door, having rolled by itself, in turn cleared away, and the tomb opened, and both the young men entered. Then those soldiers, having seen, awakened the centurion and the elders, because they also were present, guarding. And while they explained what they had seen, again they see three males come out from the tomb – and two supporting the one, and a cross following them, and the head of the two reaching into heaven, but that of the one being led by hand by them transcending the heavens. And they heard a voice from the heavens saying, “Have you proclaimed to those who sleep?” And a response was heard from the cross that said: “Yes.” Then they investigated with one another, to depart and report to Pilate; and while they still considered it through, again the heavens appeared opened and a certain man came down and entered into the memorial. Having seen these things, those around the centurion hastened at night to Pilate, leaving the tomb that they guarded, and explained everything just as they had seen, agonizing greatly and saying,

39 My interpretation in this regard supports the reading that dunamis in Greek may stand as a circumlocution for God in Patristic literature; see Fred Lapham, Peter: The Myth, the Man and the Writings. A Study of Early Petrine Text and Tradition (JSNTSup 239; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003) 26–28. 40 See H. B. Swete, The Akhmîm Fragment of the Apocryphal Gospel of St. Peter. Edited with an introduction, notes and indices (London: Macmillan, 1893) 10. 41 See Lapham, Peter 28–29.

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“Truly he was God’s Son.” Pilate answered, stated, “I am clean of the blood of the Son of God, but this occurred by you.” Then all, having come forward, besought and exhorted him to command the centurion and the soldiers to say nothing of what they had seen. “Because,” they said, “it is better for us to owe the greatest sin before God than to fall into the hands of the people of the Jews and be stoned.” Then Pilate ordered the centurion and the soldier to say nothing. Yet pre-dawn on the Lord’s Day Mary Magdalene, a female disciple of the Lord (afraid because of the Jews, since they were enflamed with wrath; she did not do at the memorial of the Lord what women were accustomed to do for those dead and beloved of them), having taken with herself women friends, came to the memorial where he had been placed. And they were afraid lest the Jews should see them and were saying, “If indeed on that day on which he was crucified we were unable to weep and strike ourselves, yet now at his memorial we may do these things. But who will also roll away for us the stone placed against the door of the memorial in order that, having entered, we may sit beside him and do what is appropriate? For the stone was large, and we fear that anyone see us. And if we are unable, let us throw against the door what we bring in his memory; let us weep and strike ourselves until we come to our home.” And having departed, they found the tomb opened.

In addition to combining the Matthean scene of the guard (27:62–66) in what is effectively a new scene of epiphany together with the story about Mary Magdalene (especially Mark 16:1–4), Peter aggregates elements found severally in earlier Gospels, down to several ways of referring to the grave (taphos, mnêmeion, mnêma), which suggests, as Lampham puts the matter, “different traditions of the Passion story.”42 Peter establishes the most objective group of witnesses of any text, including both Roman soldiers and the “elders” (Peter 10:38). Indeed, enlarging the evidentiary circle appears to have been an intentional design in the story of securing the tomb. The result is not only that there are more witnesses from backgrounds that do not share the same interests. In addition, not a single disciple is involved, and – as Claudia Setzer has pointed out43 – women appear much later, in a thoroughly ancillary position. The large group not only sees the tomb; they witness why it is empty, and come closer than any other alleged witness to seeing the Resurrection itself. Peter also resolves a problem within the narrative in Matthew. Although the guard reports “all that had happened” (28:11), fear had paralyzed them to the point as to seem dead when the earthquake happened and the angel descended (28:4). By contrast, the soldiers react competently in Peter. The similarity with Matthew’s story about the guard is a natural point of comparison, since Matthew is the only other Gospel with such a narrative. Still, it is notable that the two angels are males (Peter 10:39), as in Luke

42

Lapham (Peter 25), disagreeing with Crossan’s argument, noted below. Claudia Setzer, “Excellent Women: Female Witnesses to the Resurrection,” in JBL 116 (1997) 259–272, 269–270. 43

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(24:4). This supports Timothy Henderson in his observation44 (against John Dominic Crossan45) that the narrative in Peter appears to be derivative. Another indication is that Peter, by having two angelic appearances, accommodates the pair of figures in Luke and John and the single figures in Matthew and Mark. With this conflation of angelic figures, Peter frames its most celebrated feature: a near portrayal of the Resurrection. The central male, higher than the heavens, is God’s Son, and even his cross speaks with salvific authority. The cross as a quasi-independent agent in the narrative is striking. The cross following Jesus here comports with the image of the cross that precedes Jesus in his parousia in the Apoc. Pet. 1:6.46 The question posed to the cross and its response reflect Christ’s descent to Hades, as in 1 Pet 3:19; 4:6; and Eph 4:9,47 although it is striking that it is the cross, and not Christ, which answers this question. Peter 10:41–42 appears to adapt that motif to the language of those who had fallen asleep from Matt 27:52–53. Crossan observes that the same language is used in second-century sources, including Justin and Irenaeus,48 but he does not draw the obvious conclusion that Peter’s diction also belongs to that period. A contrast between Matthew and Peter in regard to the earthquake is nonetheless striking: while in Matthew the event opens the way for the dead saints to move horizontally into Jerusalem, in Peter the vertical descent comports with the fissures in the earth. The innovative focus on the size of the “males” underscores their angelic identity (cf. Rev 10:1–3). Angels also appear in dominant roles in the Codex Bobbiensis (Mark 16:3)49 and in the Martyrdom and Ascension of Isaiah (3:13–20),50 both of which appear to represent second-century traditions at this point. In the b. Talmud, Adam prior to his sin is described as reaching to the firmament (Ḥag. 12a);51 Paul’s comparison of Christ to Adam (in 1 Cor 15:22) may invoke that status. The gigantic proportion of angelic figures,

44

Henderson, The Gospel of Peter 160–164. John Dominic Crossan, The Cross that Spoke. The Origins of the Passion Narrative (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988). 46 See Richard Bauckham, “The Apocalypse of Peter: A Jewish Christian Apocalypse from the Time of Bar Kokhba,” The Fate of the Dead. Studies on the Jewish & Christian Apocalypses (NovTSup 93; Leiden: Brill, 1998) 161–258, 180–181. 47 See Ernest Best, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Ephesians (ICC; Edinburgh: Clark, 1998) 383–386. 48 Crossan, The Cross that Spoke 391. 49 See Kurt and Barbara Aland et al., Novum Testamentum Graece 174, and Bruce Metzger, The Textual Commentary on the Greek New Testament (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1994) 101–102. 50 See OTP 2.160. 51 See Isidore Epstein, ed., The Babylonian Talmud, or Jacob Neusner, The Babylonian Talmud. A translation and commentary 7 (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2005). 45

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from Rev 10:1–3 and into later Christian literature, is well known, but God’s Son here distances the angels in size. A development of the motif of Adam’s colossal size, restored in Christ, might be the best explanation. In either case, Paul Foster’s suggestion, that perhaps only the heads of the figures were abnormally large, while their bodies were commensurate with human beings’,52 seems a musing in search of justification. István Czachesz more plausibly refers to the similar appearance of the cosmic Christ in Acts of John 90,53 although in Peter an insistence upon vindicated power seems plain.54 His true stature emerges with the Resurrection, compared when he made himself “small” for the sake of salvation, a motif found in The Tripartite Tractate at Nag Hammadi (11.10. 18–34).55 H. B. Swete mentions several comparable treatments, of which perhaps the most apposite is the acrostic poem in the Sib. Or. 8.217–250, “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior, Cross,” all terms of reference developed in Peter. Because this section of the Sibyllines is quoted by Lactantius, John J. Collins believes it may be dated prior to the third century.56 The resulting confession, “Truly he was God’s Son” (Peter 11:45), is without the article (as elsewhere in Peter), just as in Mark (15:39) and Matthew (27:54), but now it is the communal confession of those at the tomb. This agreement comes, not at the crucifixion, as in Mark and Matthew, but at the tomb, and after yet another man came down from the opened heavens and entered the memorial (Peter 11:44). Paul Foster plausibly suggests that this new figure is introduced in order to set up the following scene with the women (Peter 13:55–56), coordinating the language with that of Mark 16:5.57 At the heart of this narrative, therefore, conflation with the Synoptic Gospels is palpable, so that Crossan’s suggestion of an earlier, allegedly primitive “Cross Gospel,”58 nonetheless leavened with later editing, has not convinced subsequent scholars. Similarly, commentators are agreed that the presentation in Peter 11:46–49 is designed to exculpate Pilate, and even to make him into an incipient believer. He represents the Romans, while the Jewish representatives deliberately assume guilt, rather than admit their responsibility before “the people of 52

Paul Foster, The Gospel of Peter 419. István Czachesz, “The Gospel of Peter and the Apocryphal Acts of the Apostles,” in Das Evangelium nach Petrus. Text, Kontexte, Intertexte, ed. Thomas J. Kraus and Tobias Nicklas (TUGAL 158; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007) 245–261, 247. 54 So Todd Penner and Caroline Vander Stichele, “Bodies and the Technology of Power. Reading the Gospel of Peter under Empire,” Das Evangelium nach Petrus 349–368, 362–363. 55 James M. Robinson, ed., The Coptic Gnostic Library. A complete edition of the Nag Hammadi codices (Leiden: Brill, 2000). 56 John J. Collins, ed. and trans., “Sibylline Oracles” in OTP 1.317–472, 416. 57 Foster, The Gospel of Peter 440. 58 Crossan, The Cross that Spoke 16. 53

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the Jews” (11:48). Paul Foster righty characterizes v. 48 as “a literary invention designed to place the Jewish leaders in the worst possible light,”59 a characterization that could only be projected back into the events concerning Jesus on the basis of programmatic anti-Semitism. Unlike in Matt 28:1, the purpose of going to the tomb in Peter 12:50 is not merely to see the place of interment, but primarily to engage in rituals of mourning (so Mark 16:1). The timing is as Sabbath dawns, “early,” as Mark 16:2 says. Yet Peter makes the crucial events to which the women are latecomers transpire at night, “in the night in which the Lord’s Day dawned” (Peter 9:35) as emphatically as the second-century bishop Melito of Sardi does (Peri Paskha 71). Mary Magdalene appears alone, as in John, until companions are mentioned belatedly, as a latecomer to the scene. She and her companions are treated separately from apocalyptic events described in association with the Resurrection, so that their basic, ritual purpose is retained (indeed, enhanced) in Peter. She comes so early in the day that it is described as predawn (orthrou), as in Luke 24:1, but of course Luke does not name Mary at this point. Neither does Luke, nor any of the Synoptics, refer to the fear of the Jews (12:50), a hallmark concern of the Gospel according to John (see 7:13; 19:38; 20:19). The women’s failure to take part in the preparation of the corpse is also explained explicitly in these terms (12:52). Their motivation now involves entering the tomb and sitting beside the body (12:53), an expanded development of the simple entry in Luke 24:3 (although what follows in Peter obviates their intention). Mark’s reference to the size of the stone (Mark 16:3) is extended into the theme of the women’s anxiety; they know it is large (Peter 12:54), but do not refer to the seven seals of 8:33 (cf. Rev 5:1!). Their worry, and apparently any actual entry into the tomb, is interrupted by the events that follow (The Gospel According to Peter 13:55b–57): They came forward and bent over there and saw there a certain young man seated in the midst of the tomb, beautiful and clothed with a shimmering robe, who stated to them, “Why have you come? Whom do you seek? Not the one that was crucified! He is arisen and gone away. But if you do not believe, bend and see the place wherein he lay, that he is not here. Because he is arisen and gone away thence from where he was sent.” Then the women fled, frightened.

Although John Dominic Crossan argues for a form of Peter prior to the composition of even the Synoptic Passion narrative, he observes that this section basically follows the presentation of Mark and is derivative.60 H. B. Swete points out that the verb “arise,” rather than “to be raised,” might be derived from the longer ending of Mark (16:9), and he compares the usage to the

59 60

Foster, The Gospel of Peter 451. Crossan, The Cross that Spoke 288–290.

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Gospel of Nicodemus.61 Having Jesus arise rather than being raised enhances the sense of his autonomy, whatever the source of the usage, and the further statement of the beautiful young man, that “he is arisen and gone away thence from where he was sent” (Peter 13:56) assumes Jesus’ pre-existence as the Son “sent” from the father. That language is reminiscent of the Fourth Gospel (see especially John 3:13, 17). Peter’s structural imitation of Mark at this point is leavened with several other usages derived from John, notably references to stooping (Peter 13:55b and John 20:5, 11; cf. Luke 24:12), and to the young man sitting (cf. John 20:12, as in Peter 13:55b), and the characteristically Johannine motif that Jesus returned to the heavenly place from which he was sent. Swete cites John 16:5; 20:21, but he also raises a possibility that Crossan does not discuss. Aphrahat’s Homily 22, perhaps influenced by the tradition of the Diatessaron, includes just this message in Syriac.62 The tendency of Peter to aggregate descriptions seems to accord with characteristics of the later manuscript traditions of the Gospels as a whole.

IV. Conclusion Rabbinic usage of Zechariah 14 does not, of course, provide precedent for the Christological developments that are evident in Matthew and in Peter. Yet Matthew’s first reference to the earthquake (27:51b–53), apart from the phrase “after his raising,” principally asserts resurrection itself for the bodies of the “holy ones,” an allusion to Zech 14:4–5 in particular. The relationship of the passage to resurrection within Targumic interpretation has already been indicated (cf. above, on Zech 14:4 in Codex Reuchlinianus). The “holy ones” of Zech 14:5 are associated with the vindication of prophecy in Ruth Rab. 2.1 and Cant. Rab. 55.1,63 and this might be taken as a refinement of a more general expectation, designed to honor what makes the figures “holy.” In any case, a vigorous and indeed physical view of resurrection is asserted without requirement of prooftext by the rabbinic period.64 The standard proof of this view was a story repeated in Midrash Rabbah concerning the emperor 61

Swete, The Akhmim Fragment 23. Ibid. 63 See Jacob Neusner, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah and Malachi in Talmud and Midrash. A Source Book (Studies in Judaism; Lanham: University Press of America, 2007) 142, 146. 64 By no means, however, was this view dominant during the Second Temple period, when different conceptions of Judaism flourished; see Chilton, Resurrection Logic 29–64, and Alan J. Avery-Peck and Jacob Neusner, eds., Judaism in Late Antiquity, Part Four: Death, LifeAfter-Death, Resurrection and World-to-Come in the Judaisms of Antiquity (HdO 1.49:4; Boston: Leiden, 2000). 62

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Hadrian and Rabbi Yehoshua ben Ḥananiah (Gen. Rab. 28.3; cf. Lev. Rab. 18.1; Eccl. Rab. 12.5).65 When the emperor expresses skepticism of the sage’s claim that God will cause new life to come from the luz (presumably the coccyx) in the spinal column, Rabbi Yehoshua brought a luz and showed it could not be dissolved in water, destroyed by fire, ground by millstone, or hammered to dust. In a nice symmetry, when Hadrian is introduced, the curse is added, “may his bones be crushed.” The link of this conception with Ezekiel 37 is evident, and there are signs that this Scriptural connection is more important than the conception in itself. It could, for example, be combined with the promise that the land of Israel is the site of God’s final vindication of the just (as in Zechariah 14) by having the bones of the righteous roll underground to Zion. This Talmudic conception (b. Ketub. 111a66) is of a piece with the story concerning Yehoshua ben Ḥananiah, and it is built from Scriptural reasoning. In the b. Talmud (Sanh. 90b) Yehoshua also resorts to Scriptural argument (based on Deut 31:16), the dominant mode of proof with which his quasi-experimental demonstration is alleged to be compatible. “All Israel has a share in the world to come” is the axiom of the Mishnah (Sanh. 10:1) in the second century CE, from which the later conceptions of the b. Talmud and Midrash Rabbah are elaborated. The Mishnah gives Isa 60:21 as the Scriptural basis of the claim, where the people are to “inherit the land forever.” Exceptions are cited, chiefly those who deny that the resurrection is a teaching of the Torah, those who assert the Torah does not come from heaven, and assorted deviants (Epicureans, heretics, spell-casters, and those who pronounce the divine name). The bare facts of the resurrection and the inheritance of the land by the righteous are asserted emphatically, without specification of how the dead are raised. B. Ketub. 111a provides that specification, with the bodies of the righteous dead rolling underground in order to achieve their goal in Jerusalem. Tg. Cant. 8:5 offers the arresting paraphrase:67 Solomon the prophet said, When the dead come to life the Mount of Olives will be split asunder and all the dead of Israel will come out from beneath it; and also the righteous who died in exile will come by way of channels under the ground and will debouch from under the Mount of Olives.

The image is surreal, yet crafted on the basis of a long familiar haggadah evidently derived from Zech 14:4–5, yet now attributed to Solomon. A simi65

See H. Freedman and Maurice Simon, eds., The Midrash Rabbah. See Isidore Epstein, ed., The Babylonian Talmud, for this and the following citation of the Talmud. 67 See Robert P. Gordon, “The Targumists as Eschatologists,” Hebrew Bible and Ancient Versions. Selected Essays of Robert P. Gordon (SOTSMS; London: Routledge, 2007) 303– 316, 306–309, with further literature cited by Moss, pp. 199–200, nn. 12–14. 66

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larly daring move, grounded in the common tradition related to Zechariah, also appears from the third-century CE panel in the synagogue at Dura Europos. Commonly called “The Ezekiel Panel,” or “Ezekiel Mural,” owing to the manifest influence of Ezekiel 37, the split mountain, each peak of which hosts an olive tree, and the dead emerging from below, manifests the Zecharian dimension of meaning.68 The final earthquake, far from a random event, is the means by which God completely reshapes the earth, and in the instability of solid ground that can make it turn fluid,69 righteous Israel finds its way home.

68 See Rachel Hachlili, Ancient Jewish Art and Archaeology in the Diaspora (Handbook of Oriental Studies 1, The Near and Middle East 35; Leiden: Brill, 1998) 123–126. The identification of the trees as olives (cf. Zech 4:4, 12–14) is forwarded by Jeffrey M. Bradshaw, “The Ezekiel Mural at Dura Europos: A Witness of Ancient Jewish Mysteries,” Bringham Young University Studies 49.1 (2010) 4–49, 29, following Jonathan A. Goldstein, “The Judaism of the Synagogues (Focusing on the Synagogue of Dura-Europos),” Judaism in Late Antiquity 2. Historical Syntheses, ed. Jacob Neusner (Handbook of Oriental Studies 1, The Near and Middle East 17; Leiden: Brill, 1995) 109–157, 147. Some earlier studies, although valuable, tended to disregard clear reference to Zechariah; see Rachel Wischnitzer-Bernstein, “The Conception of the Resurrection in the Ezekiel Panel of the Dura Synagogue,” JBL 60.1 (1941) 43–55, and Edna Garte, “The Theme of Resurrection in the Dura-Europos Synagogue Paintings,” JQR 64.1 (1973) 1–15. Roger Aus usefully points out that the Zecharian connection had already been made by Carl Kraeling; see n. 95 in “Why the Change from ‘On Behalf Of’ to ‘Out Of’ Zion in Rom 11:26?” forthcoming. The significance of the divine hands is developed in a very useful article by Warren G. Moon, “Nudity and Narrative: Observations on the Frescoes from the Dura Synagogue,” JAAR 60.4 (1992) 587–658. I note that a hand is placed over each peak of the split mountain (p. 647) and suggest a connection to Zech 14:4 (with hands in the image standing for feet in the text). Since Jesus was crucified and rose from the dead at Passover, in an email Roger Aus also points out in regard to the Zechariah 14 imagery in “The Ezekiel Panel” with the dry bones of chapter 37 at Dura Europos, that the latter chapter was the prophetic reading in the Palestinian triennial lectionary system for the Sabbath which falls in the intermediate days of Passover (b. Meg. 31a). 69 For a discussion of this and related phenomena, known as liquefaction, see Martin Degg and Jacqueline Homan, “Earthquake Vulnerability in the Middle East,” in Geography 90.1 (2005) 54–66.

Luke 1:78–79; the Sprout as the Messiah; the Dawn / Morning Star; and the Gradual Beginning of Redemption in Judaic Tradition on Esther, the “Hind of the Dawn” Roger David Aus I. Introduction The earliest Gospel, that of Mark, begins with a description of John the Baptizer / Baptist, who “appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (1:2). Before the Evangelist Luke takes up this theme in 3:3, he foretells John’s birth in 1:5–25, Mary’s visit to John’s mother Elizabeth in 1:39–45, and the actual birth and circumcision of John in 1:57–66. This is followed by the “Benedictus,” the prophecy of John’s father Zechariah in 1:68–79. In vv. 76–77 Zechariah says that his son John as the prophet of the Most High “will go before the Lord [the savior Jesus of v. 69] to prepare his ways, 77) to give knowledge of His [God’s] salvation to His people by ‘the forgiveness of sins.’” The latter motif, as noted above, prepares for 3:3 within the longer unit of John’s proclamation in 3:1–20. This essay deals with the final two verses of the Benedictus, 1:78–79, which read in the NRSV: “By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, 79) to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.” They translate the Greek: διὰ σπλάγχνα ἐλέους θεοῦ ἡμῶν, ἐν οἷς ἐπισκέψεται ἡμᾶς ἀνατολὴ ἐξ ὕψους, ἐπιφάναι τοῖς ἐν σκότει καὶ σκιᾷ θανάτου καθημένοις, τοῦ κατευθῦναι τοὺς πόδας ἡμῶν εἰς ὁδὸν εἰρήνης.1 The final word here, εἰρήνη, in the LXX almost always translates the Hebrew ‫ ָשׁלו ֺם‬. This noun not only means “peace,” “tranquility,” in biblical Hebrew,2 but also “salvation” in later Hebrew.3 The “peace / salvation” of 1:79 picks up the same motif expressed before it in three similar ways. 1 Cf. the Novum Testamentum Graecum28 of Nestle-Aland, the text of which I prefer to the variants cited in it. 2 Cf. BDB 1022–1023. 3 Cf. Jastrow, Dictionary of the Targumim, the Talmud Babli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature 1579: peace, salvation. It is noteworthy that the Messiah is the “Prince of Peace,” for example, in Isa 9:5 (Eng. 6) and “[the one of] peace” in Mic 5:4 (Eng. 5). S.

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1) In v. 68 the Lord God of Israel has [now in the birth of Jesus] looked favorably on His people and “redeemed” them. The Greek of this is ἐποίησεν λύτρωσιν,4 the noun λύτρωσις corresponding either to the Hebrew ‫ ְפּדוּת‬,5 or more probably ‫גְּ ֻאלָּ ה‬.6 2) V. 69 states that God has raised up a horn of “salvation” for us in the house of His servant David, i.e. the Messiah. The Greek of “salvation” is ָ ‫ ְי‬.8 This Greek term is repeated in σωτηρία,7 corresponding to the Hebrew ‫שׁוּﬠה‬ vv. 71 and 77, which adds emphasis to it. 3) In v. 74 the Greek verb ῥύομαι is employed of being “rescued” from the hand(s) of enemies.9 It corresponds to the hiphil or causative of the Hebrew verb ‫ נצל‬: ‫הצּיל‬. ִ 10 When “the dawn from on high”11 of v. 78 will visit us “to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet in the way of peace / salvation” (v. 79), the subject of the verb “to [graciously] visit” (ἐπισκέπτομαι)12 is “the dawn from on high.” In light of the other five

MacLean Gilmour in “The Gospel According to Luke” in IB (1952) 8.47 aptly states: “‘The way of peace’ – i.e., the way of ‘salvation’ (Heb. shālōm).” See also the Hebrew New Testaments of Franz Delitzsch (p. 102) and the United Bible Societies (p. 148) for ‫ ָשׁלו ֺם‬here. For my conviction that the model of the Benedictus was in Hebrew, a view also shared by others, see below. 4 Cf. BAGD 483 on λύτρωσις as ransom, releasing, redemption. 5 Cf. Delitzsch 102 and the United Bible Societies 147, BDB 804 (“ransom”), and Jastrow 1139 (“redemption,” “delivery”). See also LXX Ps 110:9 and 129:7. 6 Cf. LXX Lev 25:29 (twice), 48AB, as well as Isa 63:4 for ‫ ; גְּ אוּלִ ים‬λύτρωσις in LXX Ps 18:14 and 77:35 for ‫ ; גָּ ַאל‬and λυτρωτός in LXX Lev 25:31–32 also for ‫ גְּ אוּלָ ה‬. On the latter term, see BDB 145. Adolf Schlatter in Das Evangelium des Lukas aus seinen Quellen erklärt (Stuttgart: Calwer, 1931) 173 also prefers it here. 7 Cf. BAGD 801. 8 Cf. Delitzsch 102 and the United Bible Societies 147, BDB 447, and Jastrow 600. 9 Cf. BAGD 737. 10 Cf. Delitzsch 102 and the United Bible Societies 147, BDB 664, and Jastrow 929. 11 In Bib 97 (2016) 121–127, Gregory Lanier maintains in “‘From God’ or ‘From Heaven’? ἐξ ὕψους in Luke 1,78” that the expression is locative; it means “from upon high / ָ from heaven,” and not “from God.” This is too exacting. The Hebrew equivalent is ‫ממּרו ֺם‬i (as in Delitzsch 102 and the United Bible Societies 148), meaning “from on high.” Yet this is synonymous with “from heaven,” that is, from God. See e.g. Ps 102:20 (Eng. 19): “He looked down from His holy height, from heaven the Lord looked at the earth,” as well as “God on high” in Mic 6:6 and elsewhere (BDB 928, ‫מרו ֺם‬f, 2). Franz Dölger in Sol Salutis. Gebet und Gesang im christlichen Altertum (Münster: Aschendorff, 19252) 156 points out that ἐξ ὕψους should not be disturbing when connected with ἀνατολή because in hilly Judea the rising sun in fact comes from there and not from the plain. 12 BAGD 298 lists numerous passages where the verb is meant as “God’s gracious visitation in bringing salvation.” See also its use in the preceding v. 68. The verb corresponds to the Hebrew ‫( ָפּ ַקד‬BDB 823,2., and Jastrow 1206), also employed in Delitzsch 102 and the United Bible Societies 148.

Luke 1:78–79

253

occurrences of salvation imagery in the Benedictus enumerated above, it seems probable that it is intimately related to the Lord’s salvation which He has now raised up from the house of David (1:69), that is, the Messiah.13 The question is how. S. MacLean Gilmour correctly considers Luke 1:78–79 to be “a Greek text that bristles with difficulties.”14 The Greek of the expression in v. 78 rendered in the NRSV as “the dawn from on high” is ἀνατολὴ ἐξ ὕψους. Luke Timothy Johnson believes it to be “A clumsy rendering of a dense and poetic phrase.” Yet in contrast to the “brute force” of “horn of salvation” in v. 69, it is “a marvellous metaphor.”15 François Bovon regards the expression as “unnatural” and “coded language.”16 Hans Klein maintains the formulation is “verdichtet,”17 and Adolf Jacoby views the phrase as “a burden [Kreuz] for the

13 This thus clearly anticipates the birth of Jesus the Savior, the Messiah, in the city of David, Bethlehem (2:11), in the birth narrative immediately following, 2:1–20. This excludes God as the subject of ἐπισκέψεται, as maintained, for example, by Paul Winter in “Two Notes On Luke I, II With Regard To The Theory of ‘Imitation Hebraisms’” in ST 7 (1953) 160, as well as Jean Carmignac, “Studies in the Hebrew Background of the Synoptic Gospels,” in ASTI 7 (1968–69) 66. Philipp Vielhauer in “Das Benediktus des Zacharias (Lk 1,68–79)” in Aufsätze zum Neuen Testament (TB 31; Munich: Kaiser, 1965) 40, maintains that προφήτης ὑψίστου and ἀνατολὴ ἐξ ὑψίστου designate the same person, John, a “messianic figure” here, ultimately deriving from Baptist circles. This originally appeared in ZTK 49 (1952) 255–272. 14 Cf. his “The Gospel According to Luke” 8.47. 15 Cf. his The Gospel of Luke (Sacra Pagina 3; Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1991) 47 and 48. 16 Cf. his commentary available to me as Das Evangelium nach Lukas (EKKNT III/1; Zurich: Benziger; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1989) 109. 17 Cf. his Das Lukasevangelium (KEKNT I/3; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2006) 125.

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exposition.”18 Finally, Heinrich Schlier also considers ἀνατολή to be “difficult to render.”19 The following three sections seek to shed new light on the indeed puzzling phrase ἀνατολὴ ἐξ ὕψους in Luke 1:78 and on the beginning of v. 79. First, the relevance of the Hebrew equivalent of the noun ἀνατολή and its cognate verb as “sprout” and to “sprout up” will be analyzed in Ben Sirach, the Eighteen Prayer, the Dead Sea Scrolls from Qumran, and rabbinic sources, as well as the Greek term in Philo, perhaps with a Hebrew background (II.). Then the second meaning of ἀνατολή as “rising” or “dawn,” also employed by the NRSV, will be examined, primarily in light of Judaic traditions on the redeemer Esther as the “hind of the dawn” and the dawn as the gradual beginning of redemption. This includes Esther as Venus, the “Morning Star” (III.). Finally, the relevance of the above findings, almost all from Judaic sources now found in Hebrew, is related to Luke 1:78–79 and the immediately following narrative (IV.).

II. The Noun ἀνατολή and its Cognate Verb as “Sprout” and “Sprout Up” in Early Judaic Sources The noun ἀνατολή can mean a heavenly body’s “rising” above the horizon, “the quarter of sunrise, east,” but also “growing.”20 The cognate verb ἀνατέλλω is similar in meaning, and when used of plants signifies to “spring up.”21 This verb translates the Hebrew verb ‫ ָצ ַמח‬in the LXX nineteen times, often of plants “springing up” or “sprouting.”22 Yet a metaphorical usage arose very early, as 18 Cf. his art. “ΑΝΑΤΟΛΗ ΕΞ ΥΨΙΣΤΟΥ” in ZNW 20 (1921) 205–214, quotation p. 205. See also most recently Simon Gathercole, “The Heavenly ἀνατολή (Luke 1:78–9)” in JTS 56 (2005) 471–488, with a short history of research on pp. 471–472. He unfortunately only employs the LXX and Jewish literature in Greek, not being interested in dealing with any “putative sources (in whatever language) behind [1:78–79]” (474). The same is true for Gregory Lanier, Old Testament Conceptual Metaphors and the Christology of Luke’s Gospel (LNTS 591; New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2018) 80–127, “Interpretation of the Ἀνατολή Metaphor.” For him the ṣemaḥ traditions are irrelevant (116); he rather concentrates his attention on the “LIGHT domain” (90–109). Lanier defines anatolē as “a light-related entity associated with the dawn” (90). He does note, however, a large number of scholars who believe in a Semitic basis for the Benedictus (36–37, n. 7). His study builds in part on the art. “The Curious Case of ‫ צמח‬and ἀνατολή: An Inquiry into Septuagint Translation Patterns” in JBL 134 (2015) 505–527. 19 Cf. the art. ἀνατέλλω, ἀνατολή in TDNT 1.351–353, quotation p. 352. See also Stephen Farris, The Hymns of Luke’s Infancy Narrative: Their Origin, Meaning and Significance (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985) 140: “the difficult image.” 20 Cf. LSJ 123; BAGD 62; and the art. ἀνατέλλω, ἀνατολή by Heinrich Schlier in the preceding note. 21 Ibid. 22 Cf. e.g. LXX Gen 2:5; 3:18; 19:25; Deut 29:22; Ps 64:10; and Ezek 17:6.

Luke 1:78–79

255

in LXX Ps 84:11 (Heb 85:12), “Truth ‘sprouted’ from the ground”; LXX Isa 45:8, “let the earth ‘sprout forth’ mercy, and let it ‘sprout forth’ righteousness as well”; and elsewhere.23 As will be shown below, it is employed in Judaic tradition on the future Messiah in Ezek 29:21, “In that day a horn shall ‘sprout up’ for all the house of Israel...,” and in Zech 6:12 together with the noun ἀνατολή, “Behold, a man, ‘Sprout’ is his name, and he shall ‘sprout up’ in his place and shall build the house of the Lord.”24 This prophet also employs the same noun in 3:8, “For behold, I bring forth My servant, ‘Shoot.’” It is also found in Jer 23:5, “Behold, days are coming, says the Lord, and I will raise up for David a righteous ‘Shoot,’ and a king shall reign....”25 For the above reasons I first prefer to translate the Greek noun ἀνατολή in this section as “sprout,” and the cognate verb ἀνατέλλω as to “sprout up.”26 ַ behind ἀνατέλλω primarily means to “sprout, spring up,”27 The Hebrew ‫צמח‬f and the cognate noun ‫ ֶצ ַמח‬behind ἀνατολή means “sprout, growth.”28 An analysis of this root in the Hebrew of Ben Sirach, the Eighteen Prayer, the Dead Sea Scrolls of Qumran, and rabbinic sources in Hebrew and occasionally in Aramaic (the targums) undergirds its great messianic significance.29

23

Cf. Isa 58:8; 61:11; and Ezek 16:7. The LXX falsely translates here with ὑποκάτωθεν αὐτοῦ, “from below him,” for the ַ . As in the NRSV, it rather means “in his place.” Cf. BDB 1066, citing Exod Hebrew ‫מתּ ְח ָתּיו‬i 10:23 and here. Against, e.g., Gatherpole, “The Heavenly ἀνατολή” 487, who only relies on the LXX. 25 The NRSV correctly notes “Dawn” as a variant translation of the latter three occurrences of ἀνατολή. Another term is “Dayspring.” See section III. below. 26 Thus I avoid the term “branch,” often employed in this context. It is helpful to have a noun and cognate verb which can be expressed in the same way: a “sprout” and to “sprout up.” Only a “shoot” and to “shoot up” would also express the same relationship. Here I do not analyze passages in the Greek “Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs” such as T. Jud. 24:4 on the “Sprout of God,” as well as 24:1 and T. Levi 18:3, both based on Num 24:17, because their origin (Jewish or Jewish Christian?) and dating are very controversial. 27 Cf. BDB 855. Jastrow 1287 adds: to break forth, shine, important for section III.; to bloom, sprout, grow. 28 Cf. BDB ibid., and Jastrow ibid.: growth, sprout, plant. A separate entry lists it as one name of the future Messiah. The Hebrew ‫נֵ ֶצר‬, “sprout,” “shoot” (BDB 666), is also employed of the future Messiah in Isa 11:1, parallel to ‫ח ֶֺטר‬, “branch” or “twig” (BDB 310). Since these two terms are not used outside of Isa 11:1 in this sense, it appears that ṣemaḥ superseded them as a messianic designation. 29 While commentators have referred to a number of the texts I analyze in section II., this is the first thorough treatment of them in connection with Luke 1:78–79. 24

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1. The Hebrew of Ben Sirach Jesus son of Eleazar son of Sirach wrote his book of Jewish piety in Jerusalem (50:27) in the first quarter of the second century BCE.30 His grandson later translated it into Greek in Egypt (the Prologue). Parts of the Hebrew original have been found at Qumran and Masada, and manuscripts from the Middle Ages have fortunately also survived. One of them is MS “B” from the twelfth century.31 The editor notes that “the Hebrew text of Ben Sira was sometimes treated as reasonably authoritative, so that a reasonably reliable text was preserved throughout the ages.”32 Between 51:12 and 13 a hymn has been added to the original Hebrew text, probably by someone else, yet before 152 BCE.33 The line most relevant in regard to the root ṣmḥ is 51:12h: ‫הודו למצמיח קרן לבית דוד‬, “Give thanks to Him who makes a horn to sprout for the house of David....”34 The horn motif is emphasized by repetition in the next to the last line of the hymn: “He raises up a horn for His people.”35 At 47:11 it was already stated that the Lord not only took away David’s sins. He also “exalted his horn forever; He gave him a covenant of kingship and a glorious throne in Jerusalem.”36 Sir 51:12h appears to be dependent on Ps 132:17, “There [in Zion / Jerusalem, v. 13] I will cause a horn to sprout up for David; I have prepared a lamp for My anointed one.” Here David is the Lord’s “Anointed One / Messiah” ( ַ ‫) ָמ ִשׁי‬. The author of the hymn inserted at Sir 51:12 very probably borrowed the “horn” (‫ ) ֶק ֶרן‬from here, as well as the hiphil or causative form of the verb ṣmḥ, “to cause to sprout up.” Later rabbinic tradition maintained there are ten horns which God raised up for Israel. The ninth is that of the King Messiah’s kingship / kingdom (‫)מלכות‬, based on 1 Sam 2:10, the end of Hannah’s prayer:

30

Cf. George Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature between the Bible and the Mishnah (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 20052) 62: “between 196 and 175 B.C.E.” 31 Cf. Pancratius Beentjes, ed., The Book of Ben Sira in Hebrew (VTSup 68; Leiden: Brill, 1997) 5. His presentation, partly in parallel columns, is very helpful. 32 Ibid., 6. 33 Cf. Patrick Skehan and Alexander Di Lella, The Wisdom of Ben Sira (AB 39; New York: Doubleday, 1987) 569. Di Lella bases this on his belief that “the Zadokites were still high priests,” as indicated in the next line, 51:12 ix: “Give thanks to him who has chosen the sons of Zadok as his priests” (ibid.). Arthur Marmorstein in “Jesus Sirach 51,12ff.” in ZAW 29 (1909) 291 believes the additional hymn at Ben Sirach 51:12 is much older than the Eighteen Prayer (see the next section), and Ben Sirach himself later incorporated it into his book (292). 34 Cf. Beentjes 92; English NRSV. 35 Cf. Beentjes 93. The NRSV wrongly has the past, “He has raised up.” In 47:5 “horn” is also employed in regard to David, yet here in the sense of “power.” 36 Cf. Beentjes 84. The LXX has instead “Israel.”

Luke 1:78–79

257

“He will give strength to His king, and exalt the horn of His exalted one.”37 The tenth appears to be synonymous. It is “the horn of David” in the light of the day to come, based on Ps 132:17.38 In addition, Ezek 29:21 has the Lord state: “On that day I will cause a horn to sprout up for the house of Israel....” Here the causative of the verb ṣmḥ is also employed. The Targum interprets the horn here as “redemption.”39 Finally, the Babylonian Talmud deals in Sanh. 98a with the question of when the son of David / the Messiah will come. One view bases this on Ezek 29:21.40 When Zechariah in the Benedictus at Luke 1:69 states that the Lord God of Israel “has raised up a ‘horn’ of salvation for us in the house of David His servant,” it is probable that this horn image, together with the “sprout” (ἀνατολή – ‫ ) ֶצ ַמח‬of v. 78, has been influenced by Ps 132:17 and the Hebrew text of the hymn now found at Sir 51:12h. This image may, however, have been transmitted via or together with the Eighteen Prayer.

37 The Targum has “kingdom” (‫ )מלכות‬for “horn” here (Sperber 2.97–98; Eng. Harrington and Saldarini 106). 38 Cf. Midr. Pss. 75/5 on Ps 75:11 (Buber 340; Eng. Braude 2.12). The parallel in Lam. Rab. 2:3 § 6 only has 1 Sam 2:10 (Vilna 43; Soncino 7.168–169). Ps 132:17 is also interpreted of the King Messiah elsewhere, especially in respect to his “lamp” (‫)'נר‬. See Lev. Rab. ͗Emor 31/11 on Lev 24:3 (Mirkin 8.136; Soncino 4.405–406); Tanḥ. B Terumah 6 on Exod ָ 25:3, with “I will cause salvation [‫ישׁוּﬠה‬: ] to sprout up for you out of servitude” (Buber 91; Eng. Townsend 131), with a parallel in Tanḥ. Terumah 7 on the same verse (Eshkol 562; Eng. Berman 542); and Tanḥ. B Teṣaveh 6 on Exod 27:20 (Buber 99; Townsend 141), with a parallel in Tanḥ. Teṣaveh 8 on the same verse (Eshkol 379; Berman 549). These passages are also relevant to the interpretation of Luke 1:79, where the ἀνατολή will “give light to those who sit / live in darkness....” The main impetus for the image of his giving light, however, derives from the Esther narrative. See section III. below. 39 ְ in Jastrow 1148 as “redemption.” Cf. Sperber 3.336; Eng. Levey 86. See ‫פּוּר ָקן‬ 40 Cf. Soncino 662 with R. Ḥanina (bar Ḥama), a first generation Palestinian Amora. See Hermann Strack and Günter Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992) 91, afterwards cited as Introduction. On the much disputed issue of sayings attributed to specific authorities, see the discussion by Martin Jaffee, “Rabbinic Authorship as a Collective Enterprise,” in The Cambridge Companion to the Talmud and Rabbinic Literature, ed. by him and Charlotte Fonrobert (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007) 17–37. See also the relevant essays in The New Testament and Rabbinic Literature, ed. Reimund Bieringer et al. (Suppl. JSJS, 136; Leiden: Brill, 2010). See also Introduction 63–66. It is clear that later editors of the rabbinic works sometimes “standardized” the attributions to specific rabbis. However, each case must be evaluated by itself, not possible in the scope of this study.

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2. The Eighteen Prayer The “Eighteen Prayer” or “Shemoneh Esreh” is so called because it contains eighteen benedictions.41 The “Men of the Great Synagogue / Assembly” ostensibly already instituted it.42 They are thought to have been active in the third century BCE.43 Yet this is simply an attempt to express the great antiquity of the Eighteen Prayer. Louis Finkelstein maintains that “there was some form of it in existence in the first half of the second century B.C.E.”44 In b. Ber. 28b “Our Rabbis taught: Simeon ha-Paqoli arranged the eighteen benedictions in order before Rabban Gamaliel in Yabneh.”45 This was Gamaliel II, also called Gamaliel of Yabneh, and there in the academy the successor of Yoḥanan b. Zakkai from ca. 80/90 to 110 CE.46 The above statement implies that the Eighteen Prayer was for the most part a stable entity beforehand. The fifteenth benediction in the Babylonian recension of the Eighteen Prayer is the following: ‫את צמח דוד מהרה הצמיח‬ ‫וקרנו תרום בישועתיך‬ .‫ברוך אתה יי מצמיח קרן הישועה‬ Cause the sprout of David to sprout up speedily, and may his horn be exalted by Your aid.

41 Cf. the art. “Amidah” by Joseph Heinemann in EncJud (2007) 2.72–76; Louis Finkelstein, “The Development of the Amidah,” in Contributions to the Scientific Study of Jewish Liturgy, ed. Jacob Petuchowski (New York: Ktav, 1970) 91–177, originally in JQR 16 (1925–26) 1–43 and 127–170; Kaufmann Kohler, “The Origin and the Composition of the Eighteen Benedictions...,” also in Contributions 52–90; Reuven Kimelman, “The Messiah in the Amidah: A Study in Comparative Messianism,” in JBL 116 (1997) 313–320; and Ulrich Kellermann, Das Achtzehn-Bitten-Gebet. Jüdischer Glaube in neutestamentlicher Zeit. Ein Kommentar (Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 2007). See also the extensive excursus on the Eighteen Prayer in Str-B 4.208–249. 42 Cf. b. Ber. 33a (Soncino 205). In b. Meg. 18a (Soncino 108) it is stated that “a hundred and twenty elders, among whom were many prophets, drew up the prayers in the proper order.” Sipre Vezot ha-Berakhah 343 on Deut 33:2 notes in regard to the Eighteen Benedictions that the early prophets ordained that Israel should recite them daily (Finkelstein 395; Eng. Hammer 352). 43 Cf. m. ͗Abot 1:1 (Albeck 4.493; Eng. Danby 446 with n. 5). In 1:2, Simeon the Just is still noted as one of them. On him in this connection, see Introduction 69–70. 44 Cf. “The Development” 92. See also Kaufmann Kohler, “The Origin” 70: it “goes back to very ancient time.” 45 Cf. Soncino 175 with n. 8, and Jastrow 1207 on ‫ ְפּקו ֺלִ י‬: “(Cotton Dealer?).” A parallel is found in b. Meg. 17b as a baraitha or Tannaitic tradition not found in the Mishnah (Soncino 105). 46 Cf. Introduction 76.

Luke 1:78–79

259

Blessed are You, O Lord, who cause the horn of salvation to sprout up.47

Here the “sprout [ṣemaḥ] of David” is clearly the Messiah, and the hiphil of the cognate verb ṣmḥ, to “cause to sprout up,” is employed twice. His “horn” is not simply his power, but also his kingdom. This fifteenth benediction of the Eighteen Prayer appears to have been influenced both by Ps 132:17 and by the hymn now found at Sir 51:12. In turn, it could very well be part of the background of the original Hebrew ṣemaḥ behind the ἀνατολή of Luke 1:78. 3. The Dead Sea Scrolls The Messiah is also designated “Sprout” (ṣemaḥ) four times in the Dead Sea Scrolls found at Qumran. 3.1 4Q161 (4Q Isa) 4QIsaiah Peshera, Fragments 8–10, col. III Isa 10:34 is first quoted, then in lines 11–16 the next verses, Isa 11:1–5. Line 18 continues: “[The interpretation of the word concerns the sprout] of David which will sprout in the fi[nal days, since] 19) [with the breath of his lips he will execute] his [ene]my, and God will support him with [the spirit of c]ourage [...] 20) [...thro]ne of glory, h[oly] crown and multi-color[ed] vestments 21) [...] in his hand. He will rule over all the pe[ople]s and Magog.” It is probable that the “shoot” ( ‫ ) ח ֶֹטר‬of Isa 11:1 in line 11 is described as the “sprout” (ṣemaḥ) of David in line 18 since it will “rise up” (῾amad) at the end of days and will rule over all the peoples and the Magog of Ezekiel 38–39. This is because in post-biblical Hebrew ḥōṭer was no longer used of the Messiah.48 3.2 4Q174 (4QFlor) 4Q Florilegium, Fragment 1, col. I, 21,2, lines 10–13 “[And] YHWH [de]clares to you that ‘He will build you a house. I will raise up your [David’s] seed after you and establish the throne of his kingdom 11) 47 Cf. the text in Gustaf Dalman, Die Worte Jesu. 1. Einleitung und wichtige Begriffe (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1898) 303, employed by Paul Billerbeck in Str-B 4.213, as well as in Kellermann, Das Achtzehn-Bitten-Gebet 152. “To sprout up speedily” is already found toָ ‫ ; ְי‬in line two “aid” gether in Isa 58:8. The term “salvation” in line three is the singular ‫שׁוּﬠה‬ appears to be the plural of the same without a waw. See Jastrow 600: redemption, help, ְ ‫וּב ְשׁ ִמי ָתּרוּם‬ ִ , “and in My name salvation. On the second line, see Ps 89:25 (Eng. 24), ֺ ‫קרנו‬a his [David’s] horn shall be exalted.” The fact that “who cause the horn of salvation to sprout up” is first mentioned by Rabbah b. Shila, a fourth generation Babylonian Amora (Introduction 105), does not mean it was first introduced there at such a late time. Against Ismar Elbogen, Der jüdische Gottesdienst in seiner geschichtlichen Entwicklung (Hildesheim: Georg Olms, 1962; reprint of Frankfurt, 19313) 39–41 and 54. While it is lacking in the Palestinian version, I agree that the basic contents of the Babylonian fifteenth benediction appear to be very old, as maintained by Finkelstein above. 48 Cf. Florentino Martínez and Eibert Tigchelaar, eds., The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition (Leiden: Brill, 2000) 316–317, and n. 28 above.

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[for ev]er. I will be a father to him and he will be a son to Me’ (2 Sam 7:12– 14). This [refers to the] ‘sprout of David,’ who will arise with the interpreter of the law, who 12) [will rise up] in Zi[on in] the [l]ast days, as it is written: ‘I will raise up the hut which has fallen’ (Amos 9:11). This [refers to] ‘the hut of 13) David which has fall[en,’ w]hich He will raise up to save Israel.”49 Here the “Sprout of David” (‫ )צמח דויד‬will be the Lord’s “son” in the last days, referring to 2 Sam 7:14. He is also the “hut of David” (Amos 9:11), whom the Lord will raise up “to save” (‫ )להושיע‬Israel. 3.3 4Q285 (4QSM) 4QSefer ha-Milḥamah, Fragment 5 “1) [... as] the prophet Isaiah [said]: ‘And cut down shall be [the thickets of the forest by a majestic one 2) with an axe, and Lebanon shall f]all. And there shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse (Isa 10:34 – 11:1) [...] 3) [...] the sprout of David. And they will enter into judgment with Blank [...] 4) [...] and the Prince of the Congregation, the sprou[t of David...], shall put him to death, 5) [...] and with wounds. And [the High] Priest will command [...] 6) [...the s]lai[n of the] Kitti[m...].”50 Here the “Sprout of David” (‫ )צמח דויד‬is the warlike Messiah, the majestic one, of Isa 10:34, the “shoot” (ḥōṭer) of the next verse, 11:1. It is he who will put to death the leader of the Kittim, the Romans. 3.4 4Q252 (4QcommGenA), col. V Line 1 begins by quoting Gen 49:10, “The scepter shall [no]t depart from the tribe of Judah, [nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until Shiloh comes to him].”51 Line 2 mentions one sitting on the throne of David, whose staff shall be the covenant of kingship (‫)מלכות‬. Line 3 continues: “Until the Messiah of righteousness comes, the sprout of 4) David [‫]צמח דויד‬. For to him and to his descendants has been given the covenant of the kingship of his people for everlasting generations....”52 Here the “Sprout of David” is clearly labeled the “Messiah of righteousness” (‫)משיח צדק‬. It is also implied that he is the “Shiloh” of Gen 49:10, another title for the Messiah.53 His permanent kingship / kingdom is emphasized by repetition. 49

Cf. the text and a slightly modified translation in ibid., 352–353. Cf. my interpretation of this text in the study “Isa 10:34 and the ‘Ambiguous Oracle’ in Josephus, Bell. 6.312–13” in RRS 21 (2019) 20–22, where I note others who share this interpretation. An alternative translation is found in Martínez and Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls 642–643. In 11Q14, Frag. 1, col. I, line 7, “the sprout of Da[vid]” is also found before the quotation of Isa 10:34. It proceeds: “10) A sh]oot [will emerge] 11) [from the stump of Jesse...the sprou]t of 12) [David]” (ibid., 1210–1211). 51 As so often, it is simply assumed that the reader knows the remainder of the verse. 52 Cf. Martínez and Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls 504–505. 53 For “Shiloh” as a designation for the Messiah, see e.g. the texts cited in Str-B 1.65. 50

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* * * The above four passages54 show that the designation “Sprout of David” was a major title for the Messiah in the writings of the Qumran community at the Dead Sea. They are probably from the last part of the second, and the first century BCE.55 In light of the Hebrew hymn inserted at Sir 51:12, the Eighteen Prayer, and the Qumran texts cited above, the rabbinic references to the Messiah as the “Sprout (of David)” should not be rejected out of hand because of the much later dating of the present texts. To these I now turn. 4. Rabbinic Texts The Hebrew ṣemaḥ as “sprout” is employed of the Messiah in rabbinic commentary on seven texts in the Hebrew Bible. 4.1 Isa 4:2 The Hebrew behind “On that day ‘the sprout of the Lord’ [‫ ] ֶצ ַמח יהוה‬shall be beautiful and glorious” is rendered by the Targum as “At that time shall the Messiah of the Lord be for joy and for glory....”56 4.2 Jer 23:5–6 The Hebrew of these verses reads in English: Behold, the days are coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David “a righteous Sprout,” and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. 6) In his days Judah will be saved and Israel will live in security. And this is the name by which he will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness.”

David’s later heir is labeled here “a righteous Sprout” (‫ ; ֶצ ַמח ַצ ִדּיק‬LXX ἀνατολὴν δίκαιαν). The Targum renders this a “Messiah of righteousness” (‫)משיח דצדקא‬.57 This messianic interpretation is also found in Num. Rab.

54 For a thorough discussion of the Messiah at Qumran, cf. John Collins, The Scepter and the Star (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 20102). 55 Cf. the “Chronological Table” in Collins, ibid., 274, as well as Frank Moore Cross, The Ancient Library of Qumran (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 19953) 96–97. He notes that the site was “no doubt” destroyed by the Romans “in the early summer of 68” (p. 62). 56 Cf. Stenning 14–15. Often I employ my own translation, or modify a given one, yet the translations referred to should also be compared. 57 Cf. Sperber 3.188; Eng. Hayward 111. See also 4Q252 above with “the Messiah of righteousness,” the “Sprout of David.”

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Korah 18/21.58 The adjacent term in v. 6, “The Lord is our righteousness” ( ‫ )יהוה ִצ ְד ֵקנוּ‬is, for Jewish sensibilities, surprisingly found as a messianic title in b. B. Bat. 75b;59 Lam. Rab. 1:16 § 51;60 Pesiq. Rav Kah. 22/5a;61 Midr. Pss. 21/2;62 and Midr. Prov. 19.63 Perhaps to reject possible Christian interpretation of this verse, the Targum renders it as “Righteous deeds shall be done for us before the Lord in his days.”64 4.3 Jer 33:15 This verse is very similar to 23:5. It reads: “In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Sprout to sprout up for David, and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.” A minor difference is that the term “righteousness” in “Sprout of righteousness” is here written ‫ ְצ ָד ָקה‬, and not ‫ ַצ ִדּק‬as in 23:5. A major difference is that the hiphil of the cognate verb ṣmḥ is also employed: “cause to sprout up.” The Targum in v. 13 says “the people shall yet eagerly pursue the words of the Messiah” for “shall again pass under the hands of ‘the one who counts them.’”65 Verse 15 continues by stating that “In those days and at that time I will raise [up] for David a Messiah of righteousness....”66 4.4 Ezek 29:21 The Hebrew states of the Lord: “On that day ‘I will cause’ a horn ‘to sprout up’ for the house of Israel.” Here the hiphil of the verb ṣmḥ is employed. In an extensive section dealing with the question of when the Son of David / the

58

Cf. Mirkin 10.209; Soncino 6.734, in connection with Zech 6:12. Cf. Soncino 303. 60 Cf. Vilna 36, Soncino 7.135–136, on the King Messiah. 61 Cf. Mandelbaum 331; Eng. Braude and Kapstein 349. 62 Cf. Buber 178; Braude 1.294 on the King Messiah. 63 Cf. Visotzky 141; Eng. Visotzky 89–90. Another verb for the Messiah’s “sprouting” (‫צוּץ‬, Jastrow 1269) is also used here in relation to Gen 49:10. On this verse and the Sprout of David, see 4Q252 above. A similarly bold designation of the Messiah is found in Pss. Sol. 17:32, “their king shall be the Lord Messiah” (see also 18:7). 64 Cf. Sperber 3.188; Eng. Hayward 111. 65 Cf. Sperber 3.215; Eng. Hayward 141. The Targum reflects the tradition of the tenth and last census to take place in the time to come, based on this verse. See Num. Rab. Bemidbar 2/11 on Num 2:32 (Mirkin 9.32; Soncino 5.40–41); Tanḥ. Ki Thissa 9 on Exod 30:12 (Eshkol 400; Eng. Berman 581); Tanḥ. B Ki Thissa 8 ibid. (Buber 110; Eng. Townsend 153); Pesiq. Rav Kah. 2/8 ibid. (Mandelbaum 31; Eng. Braude and Kapstein 33–34); and Pesiq. R. 10/14 ibid. (Friedmann 40b; Braude 192). This is relevant to the census taken at the time of the Messiah Jesus in Luke 2:1–2. See my study Weihnachten, Barmherziger Samariter, Verlorener Sohn. Studien zu ihrem jüdischen Hintergrund (ANTZ 2; Berlin: Institut Kirche und Judentum, 1988) 45–49. 66 Cf. the beginning of n. 65. 59

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Messiah will come, b. Sanh. 98a quotes this verse in regard to the Son of David.67 4.5 Zech 3:8 This verse reads: “Now listen, Joshua the high priest, you and your colleagues who sit before you! For they are an omen of things to come: Behold, I am going to bring My servant ‘the Sprout.’” Here the Lord of hosts through an angel designates the “Sprout” (‫ ) ֶצ ַמח‬as “My servant.” The LXX calls him here Ἀνατολή. Targum Jonathan on the verse says Joshua’s companions “are worthy that a miracle / sign be performed for them, for behold, I will bring My servant the Messiah, and he shall be revealed.”68 4.6 Zech 6:12 Here the Lord of hosts tells the prophet to say to Joshua son of Jehozadak: “Here is a man whose name is ‘Sprout,’ for he shall sprout up in his place, and he shall build the temple of the Lord; he shall bear royal honor, and shall sit and rule upon his throne.” The name of the man so described is “Sprout”: (‫; ֶצ ַמח‬ LXX Ἀνατολή), and the intransitive of the cognate verb is employed for his “sprouting up.” Targum Jonathan interprets here basically as in 3:8, stating: “Behold, the man whose name is ‘Messiah’ will be revealed, and he shall be raised up, and shall build the temple of the Lord.”69 Num. Rab. Korah 18/21 refers Zech 6:12 to the Messiah,70 as do Lam. Rab. 1:16 § 51,71 Midr. Prov. 19,72 and Pirqe R. El. 48.73 Justin Martyr, who was born in Flavia Neapolis near Sychem and was probably executed in Rome under Marcus Aurelius between

67

Cf. notes 39–40 above. ָ , like the Hebrew ‫'נס‬, means Cf. Sperber 3.481; Eng. Gordon 192. The Aramaic ‫נסּא‬i sign, wonder, miraculous event (Jastrow 914–15), interpreting the Bible’s ‫( מו ֵֺפה‬BDB 68: wonder, sign, portent). Gordon calls attention in n. 22 to 4 Ezra 7:28, where the Messiah is “revealed.” 69 Cf. Sperber 3.485; Eng. Gordon 198. In n. 12 Gordon also calls attention to Tg. Jon. Jer 30:21, which states: “And their king shall be anointed from them, and their Messiah shall be revealed from among them” (Sperber 3.204; Eng. Hayward 129). Early Palestinian Christians may indeed have maintained before 70 CE that their Messiah Jesus had prophetically threatened to tear down the Jerusalem Temple and (re-)build it. See e.g. Mark 13:2; 14:58; and 15:29. The prophets Jeremiah (26:6, 18) and Micah (3:12) had also maintained this centuries before. 70 Cf. Mirkin 10.209; Soncino 6.734, together with Jer 23:5. 71 Cf. Vilna 36; Soncino 7.135–136 on the name of the King Messiah, in the context together with Jer 23:6. 72 Cf. Visotzky 141; Eng. Visotzky 89–90, as one of the seven names of the Messiah, together with Jer 23:6 and Gen 49:10. 73 Cf. Eshkol 191; Eng. Friedlander 384. 68

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163–167 CE,74 also employs Zech 6:12 of the Messiah Jesus in his “Dialogue with Trypho” 106.4 and 121.2.75 4.7 Ps 132:17 This verse reads in the NRSV: “There [in Zion, v. 13] I will cause a horn to sprout up for David; I have prepared a lamp for My anointed one.” Here the anointed one, the Messiah, will also be a descendant of David. The hiphil of the verb ṣmḥ is employed for the Lord’s “causing to sprout up” a horn for David; the LXX translates this with ἐξανατέλλω. The Targum renders “horn” here with “a glorious king.”76 “Horn” recalls the similar passage in 4.4 above, Ezek 29:21: “On that day I will cause a horn to sprout up for the house of Israel.” Ps 132:17 is interpreted of the (King) Messiah in the passages enumerated above in n. 38.77 * * * The above occurrences in rabbinic texts of the noun ṣemaḥ and the cognate verb ṣmḥ, especially in the causative (it is God Himself who initiates this), are here shown to continue a line of interpretation already found in the pre-Christian Sir 51:12, the Eighteen Prayer, and the Dead Sea Scrolls. The Messiah, the Son of David, for several later centuries, was labeled in rabbinic texts the “Sprout of David” whom the Lord would “cause to sprout up” at the end of days / in the time to come. Since the noun and the verb are also translated in the LXX as Ἀνατολή and (ἐξ-) ανατέλλω, it seems probable that they form a major part of the background of the image of the ἀνατολή in the Benedictus at Luke 1:78. Before proceeding to the second major source for the background of the latter term, Judaic tradition on the Book of Esther, several remarks on a relevant passage in Philo are appropriate.

74 Cf. Leslie W. Barnard, Justin Martyr. His Life and Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1967) 5 and 13. 75 Cf. Marcovich 253 and 278–279, and English in The Ante-Nicene Fathers 1.252 and 260. There, however, it is in the context of light imagery. See below, section III.6. 76 Cf. Merino 181; Eng. Stec 227. 77 Cf. also Pirqe R. El. 18, which states that “the Son of David will cause the light of Israel to sprout,” and “upon them the Son of David will sprout” in connection with Ps 132:18. In its present form, however, the passage is probably from Mohammedan times (“Ishmaelites”). See Eshkol 90–91; Eng. Friedlander 201–202.

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5. Philo, Conf. 62–63 Philo of Alexandria was a contemporary of Jesus, living from approximately 20 BCE to 49 CE.78 In his treatise on “The Confusion of Tongues,” he first comments on the expression ἀπὸ ἀνατολῶν in Gen 11:2 and κατὰ ἀνατολάς in 2:8, together with the verb ἀνατέλλω (Conf. 60–61). Then in 62–63 he relates an oracle: I have also heard such an oracle uttered by one of the disciples of Moses: “Behold, a man whose name is ἀνατολή” (Zech 6:12). A most novel mode of address if you consider him spoken of here as a combination of body and soul. However, if you consider him to be that incorporeal one, not differing from the divine image, you will agree that the name ἀνατολή ascribed to him is most accurate. 63) For the Father of all caused the oldest son to sprout up, whom He elsewhere called first-born. And indeed, the one begotten, imitating the ways of the Father, and viewing His archetypal patterns, gave form to the shapes.79

The following remarks aid in understanding this passage better in regard to the identity of the ἀνατολή figure. 1. Philo is probably acquainted with this oracle from his attendance at an Alexandrian synagogue,80 since this institution usually also functioned as a Beth ha-Midrash / academy. “One of the disciples of Moses” (τῶν Μωυσέως ἑταίρων τινὸς), that is, probably a teacher there,81 conveyed it to him (and others). It is thus definitely pre-Christian and not from the Alexandrian philosopher himself, who more probably would have designated the figure so described as the “Logos.”82 2. The Greek of Zech 6:12 is quoted here as ἰδοὺ ἄνθρωπος ᾧ ὄνομα ἀνατολή. This differs from the LXX in major respects, which reads: ἰδοὺ ἀνὴρ, Ἀνατολὴ ὄνομα αὐτῷ. Since Philo is usually dependent on the LXX and would probably have reworded the quotation he received accordingly, this is another indication that the oracle is not from him, and that he respected and did not change the form in which he received it, a non-Philonic tradition of interpretation as found in Alexandria.

78

Cf. Maren Niehoff, Philo of Alexandria. An Intellectual Biography (New Haven / London: Yale University Press, 2018) 245-246. 79 My translation. Cf. that of F. Colson and G. Whitaker in the Loeb Classical Library Edition of Philo’s works, 4.44–45, together with the Greek. 80 The extremely large, double colonnaded, basilica-like synagogue in Alexandria, for example, was greatly admired as demonstrating “Israel’s glory.” For a description of it, cf. t. Sukkah 4:6 (Zuckermandel / Liebermann 198; Eng. Neusner 2.224). However, no archaeological remains of it have been found up to now. 81 While the similar expression in Somn. 2.245 refers to the author of a verse from Psalms, the noun as parallel to (Socrates’) “disciples” (sing. γνωρίμος : LSJ 355.3.b, pupil) in Deus 146 speaks for it as meaning “disciple” here (LSJ 700,3; in Matt 26:50 Jesus addresses his disciple Judas as “friend”). 82 Cf. 4. below on the term “firstborn.”

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3. The ἀνατολή is here called the oldest “son” (υἱός) of the “Father” (πατήρ) of all. Three passages in the Hebrew Bible and the LXX employ such imagery of the Messiah in Judaic tradition. 3.a 2 Sam 7:14. This verse has the Lord via Nathan tell David regarding a descendant of his: “I will be a Father to him, and he shall be a son to Me.” As pointed out in section II. 3.2 above, 4Q174 (Florilegium) employs this verse of the “Sprout of David” in the last days, a definitely pre-Christian text from Qumran.83 In the NT, Heb 1:5 clearly quotes it of the Son (v. 2).84 3.b Ps 2:7 has the Lord tell His “anointed” (in v. 2, in later tradition considered to be the Messiah): “You are My son; today I have begotten you.” In b. Sukkah 52a “Our Rabbis taught: The Holy One, blessed be He, will say to the Messiah, the Son of David (May he reveal himself speedily in our days): ‘Ask of Me anything, and I will give it to you,’ as it is said: Ps 2:7–8.”85 Midr. Pss. 2/9 on Ps 2:7 also applies it and v. 8 to the King Messiah.86 In the NT, Ps 2:7 is part of what God says to Jesus at his baptism,87 and Paul is represented as quoting it in his synagogue address in Antioch of Pisidia (Acts 13:33). In Heb 1:5 it is cited just after 2 Sam 7:14, and First Clement also quotes it of the Son in 36:4.88 3.c Ps 89:27 (Eng. 26). Verse 21 (Eng. 20) has the Lord say: “I have found My servant David; with My holy oil I have anointed him,” that is, he is the Lord’s “anointed” or Messiah. Verse 25b (Eng. 24) adds: “and in My name his horn shall be exalted.” Verse 27 (Eng. 26) then states: “You are my Father, my God, and the Rock of my salvation.”

83 Cf. also the so-called “Son of God” text in Aramaic, 4Q246. Col. II, line 1 reads: “He will be called son of God, and they will call him son of the Most High” (Martínez and Tigchelaar 494–495). John Collins analyzes it and, probably rightly, concludes it is messianic. See his The Scepter and the Star 171–190. 84 It may also be alluded to in John 1:34. In his “Dialogue with Trypho” 118:2, after citing Ps 110:4 and Isa 53:8, Justin Martyr quotes 2 Sam 7:14 in the LXX form (Marcovich 273; Eng. The Ante-Nicene Fathers 1.258). The Targum of the verse may be anti-Christian, saying “I will be to him like a father” (Sperber 2.170; Eng. Harrington and Saldarini 174). 85 Cf. Soncino 247. See also Cant. Zuṭa 1:1 (Buber 2). 86 Cf. Buber 28; Eng. Braude 1.41. This passage then definitely becomes anti-Christian by maintaining that God does not say “I have a son,” but instead: “You are as dear to Me as a son.” It goes on to relate that God has not already begotten the King Messiah, but will only create him on the (future) day of redemption. The nearby Midr. Pss. 2/3 on Ps 2:2 applies Isa 11:4 to the King Messiah (Buber 25; Braude 1.37). As noted above, this verse from Isaiah is interpreted in very early Judaic tradition of the Messiah. 87 Cf. Mark 1:11 par., as well as John 1:34. 88 Cf. also Justin Martyr’s “Dialogue with Trypho” 88.8; 103.6; and 122.6 (Marcovich 224, 248 and 281; Eng. The Ante-Nicene Fathers 1.244, 251, 260–261). The Targum of Ps 2:7 also appears to be anti-Christian: “You are as dear to Me as a son to a father” (Merino 79; Eng. Stec 30).

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The above three verses from the Hebrew Bible, basically the same in the LXX, support the thesis that when the ἀνατολή in Conf. 63 is described as the oldest “son” of the “Father of all,” he is represented as the Messiah, in one early text the “Sprout of David.” 4. Firstborn. Philo’s oracle states that the ἀνατολή is not only the oldest “son” of the “Father of all,” he is also called “firstborn” (Conf. 63: πρωτόγονος). Later on in 146 the Alexandrian philosopher speaks of God’s “Firstborn, the Word” (τὸν πρωτόγονον αὐτοῦ λόγον), the “oldest” (πρεσβύτατον) of the angels, their “ruler.” His many names include “the Beginning” (ἀρχή), “the Name of God” (ὄνομα θεοῦ), “Word” (λόγος), and “the Man After His Image” (ὁ κατ’ εἰκόνα ἄνθρωπος). He then adds: “For the Word is the oldest image of God” (θεοῦ γὰρ εἰκὼν λόγος ὁ πρεσβύτατος). In Agr. 51 Philo also speaks of God’s true “Word” (λόγος), His “Firstborn Son” (πρωτόγονον υἱόν), who shall “take upon him its [the universe’s] government like some viceroy of a great king,” as the angel of Exod 23:20 is interpreted. While definitely meaning the same (messianic) figure as in the oracle of Conf. 62–63, the above statements describe him primarily as the Word (λόγος). The fact that Philo does not employ this term in reproducing the oracle speaks for its basically coming from elsewhere – as he himself states. It is important to note that Ps 89:28 (Eng. 27), just after the verse (27) noted above on the Lord’s being the “Father” of this anointed one, reads: “I will make him the firstborn, the highest of the kings of the earth.” The Hebrew text employs here ‫ ְבּכוּר‬,89 the LXX πρωτότοκος. The Targum interprets: “I also will make him the firstborn of the kings of the house of Judah, the highest of [all] the kings of the earth.”90 Exod 13:1 has the Lord tell Moses: “Consecrate to Me all the firstborn.” Exod. Rab. Bo 19/7 on this verse has R. Nathan, a fourth generation Tanna,91 state: “The Holy One, blessed be He, told Moses: Just as I have made Jacob a firstborn, for it says, ‘Israel is My son, My firstborn’ (4:22), so will I make the King Messiah a firstborn, as it says: ‘I also will appoint him firstborn’ (Ps 89:28). Hence ‘Consecrate to Me all the firstborn’ (Exod 13:1).”92 Here the King Messiah is clearly labeled a “firstborn” in a Tannaitic source. The NT frequently labels Jesus as the Christian Messiah the “Firstborn.” Significantly, after Ps 2:7 and 2 Sam 7:14 are quoted in Heb 1:5 of Jesus’ being greater than angels, v. 6 continues: “And again, when He brings ‘the firstborn’

89 Cf. BDB 114, esp. 3. The LXX employs πρωτόγονος only twice, yet πρωτότοκος very frequently. The same is true for Philo (six to forty-five occurrences). The NT only has πρωτότοκος. 90 Cf. Merino 147; Eng. Stec 169. 91 Cf. Introduction 88. 92 Cf. Mirkin 5.227; Soncino 3.237–238.

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into the world, He says, ‘Let all God’s angels worship him.’”93 Other passages also speak of Christ as the “Firstborn”: Rom 8:29; Col 1:15 (“the firstborn of all creation”), 18 (“the firstborn from the dead”); and Rev 1:5 (“the firstborn of the dead”). The fact that Jesus himself was the firstborn son of Mary (and Joseph, Luke 2:7), later aided in applying this designation to him as the Messiah.94 5. Participation in Creation. Conf. 63 states that the oldest son of the Father of all, the firstborn, “imitated” (μιμέομαι)95 the ways of the Father, and viewing His archetypal patterns, gave form to (μορφόω)96 the shapes (εἶδος, pl.).97 In other words, the Ἀνατολή was active with God in the act of Creation. Prov 8:22–31 describes how Wisdom was created by the Lord at / as the beginning of His work (lit., way), as does Sir 24:1–22, both texts implying it participated in the creation of the world.98 Such passages paved the way for a “wisdom christology” in the NT, evident in texts like 1 Cor 8:6; Col 1:16–18; and Rev 3:14. Primarily because of the Christian appropriation of this motif for Jesus, Judaic sources are almost completely silent about the Messiah’s role at creation.99 Yet several which note his being given a name before the creation of the world have survived – for example in pseudepigrapha passages like 1 En. 48:2 and 6.100 Much later a baraitha relates that the name of the Messiah was one of the seven things created before the world was created.101 The evidence adduced for this is Ps 72:17, interpreted as “His name shall endure forever, and has existed before the sun.”102 “Yinnon” from this psalm verse thus became one of the Messiah’s names.103 In addition, the second generation Palestinian Amora Simeon b. Laqish, called Resh Laqish,104 commented in Gen. Rab. Bereshith 2/4 on Gen 1:2, “And the spirit of God hovered [over the face of the waters]”: 93

Cf. Philo, Conf. 146 and Agr. 51 above in respect to angels. For Jesus’ four brothers and his sisters, thus at least six siblings, cf. Mark 6:5 and Matt 13:55–56. 95 Cf. LSJ 1134: imitate, represent, portray. 96 Cf. LSJ 1147: give shape or form to. 97 Cf. LSJ 484: that which is seen: form, shape. 98 Cf. e.g. Prov 8:22, “then I was beside Him, like a master builder.” 99 Cf. on this Alan Segal’s fine study, Two Powers in Heaven (SJLA 25; Leiden: Brill, 1977). 100 Cf. OTP 1.35, as well as the Son of Man receiving the epithet “Before the Beginning of Days” in 48:2. 101 Cf. b. Pesaḥ. 54a (Soncino 265), as well as Midr. Pss. 72/6 on Ps 72:17 (Buber 327; Braude 1.563). 102 This is how the puzzling Hebrew ‫ ִי נּו ֺן‬is rendered. The Targum has: “even before the sun existed / was created, his name was being prepared” (Merino 132; Eng. Stec 140). The LXX’s διαμενει is usually interpreted as the future διαμενεῖ, his name “shall endure,” yet it could also be read as the present διαμένει, meant as “endures / has endured.” 103 Cf. b. Sanh. 98b (Soncino 667) and Lam. Rab. 1:16 § 51 (Soncino 7.138). 104 Cf. Introduction 95. He was active in Tiberias and was a brother-in-law of R. Yoḥanan. 94

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“This alludes to the spirit of Messiah, as you read: ‘And the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him’ (Isa 11:2).”105 The latter scriptural passage, almost always interpreted of the Messiah, thus suits Resh Laqish’s exposition.106 When Conf. 63 describes how the Ἀνατολή as the oldest son of the Father of all, the firstborn, also gave form to the shapes (of formless matter at the Creation in Gen 1:1–2), it very probably represents him as the figure called the Messiah in other Judaic texts. 6. The “Sprouting Up” of the Ἀνατολή. Philo notes in Conf. 62–63 that the name Ἀνατολή in the oracle of Zech 6:12, with that term, first appears to be a strange mode of address. Yet it is most accurate, “for the Father of all caused the oldest son to ‘sprout up,’ whom He elsewhere called firstborn.” Here the aorist verb form ἀνέτειλε is employed, from ἀνατέλλω: make to rise up (sprout up).107 This recalls the hiphil or causative form of the verb ṣmḥ, noted in numerous passages analyzed above of the Lord’s “causing” the Sprout (of David) “to sprout up.” * * * The above analysis of six different motifs found in Conf. 62–63 makes it very probable that the figure so described is the Messiah, even though Philo never employs such terminology. This “oracle” may have been a Hellenistic, i.e. here an Alexandrian tradition, developed in its present form originally in Greek. Yet there is a possibility that it could first have originated in Palestine, among other things because the quotation of Zech 6:12 does not conform to the LXX. It is known, for example, that there was “a synagogue of the Alexandrians” located in Jerusalem, which the second generation Tanna of the older group, R. Eleazer b. R. Ṣadoq,108 later purchased.109 It is also known that various craftsmen from 105 Cf. Theodor and Albeck 17; Soncino 1.17. A parallel is found in Pesiq. Rab. 33/6 with the King Messiah (Friedmann 152b; Eng. Braude 6.42–43). In Lev. Rab. Thazria 14/1 on Lev 12:2, Resh Laqish interprets Gen 1:2 of the spirit of the King Messiah, without Isa 11:2 (Mirkin 7.154; Soncino 4.178). Yet this is within a discussion of the soul of Adam. The text appears to have been altered. 106 Cf. Gen. Rab. Bereshith 8/1 on Gen 1:26 (Theodor and Albeck 56; Soncino 1.55), also with Isa 11:2. Probably anti-Christian, it now refers the two passages to Adam. See also Tanḥ. B Thazria 2 on Lev 12:2 (Buber 32; Eng. Townsend 238), with parallels in Tanḥ. Thazria 1 (Eshkol 537) and Midr. Pss. 139/5 on the same verse (Buber 529; Eng. Braude 2.345–346) without Isa 11:2, referring Gen 1:2 to Adam. 107 Cf. again LSJ 123. 108 Cf. Introduction 78. 109 Cf. t. Meg. 2:17 (Zuckermandel / Liebermann 224; Eng. Neusner 2.288). See also y. Meg. 3:1, 73d (Neusner 19.117), which quotes the Tosefta and then adds: “The Alexandrians had made it their own,” as well as b. Meg. 26a (Soncino 156, where Eleazar has been changed to Eliezer). Here it is labeled the synagogue of the ‫טורסיים‬. The term ‫ ַט ְר ִסי‬does not mean Tarsian (from Tarsus) here, but rather either a weaver of metalic thread / artistic weaver, or

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Alexandria were summoned to Jerusalem because of their expertise in Temple procedures.110 Even later, it is known that the third generation Tanna R. Eleazar b. Shammua, whose teacher was R. Aqiba, was born in Alexandria.111 Martin Hengel has estimated that between 10–15% of the Jerusalem population at the time of the Apostle Paul consisted of Greek-speaking Jews.112 Much exchange in religious questions between Jerusalem and Alexandria thus probably took place. This makes it possible that the oracle Philo has from one of the disciples of Moses in Alexandria could have basically originated in Palestine, where the “Sprout (of David)” was definitely a messianic designation in pre-Christian times (e.g., Qumran). The Alexandrians then may have developed it further with imagery such as “incorporeal” and “archetypal patterns.” Or it indeed originated in Alexandria, being influenced by motifs found in the “motherland,” Palestine. The second major influence on the ἀνατολή of Luke 1:78, that of biblical and Judaic tradition on the Book of Esther, shall now be analyzed.

III. Biblical and Judaic Tradition on Esther The NRSV at Luke 1:78 does not have “sprout” for ἀνατολή, but “the dawn” from on high, which will break upon us. The King James Version has the more poetic “the dayspring” from on high, and the New English Bible “the morning sun” from heaven. The 2017 edition of the Martin Luther Bible reads: “das aufgehende Licht aus der Höhe,” and the 2011 Norwegian translation has the similar “lyset fra det høye.” All these and several other versions render ἀνατολή as the appearance of light, especially the dawn. This is because the noun ṣemaḥ can also mean the “rising” of a star or the sun.113 The verb ṣmḥ in the Hebrew Bible primarily means to “sprout” or “spring up.” Yet in later Hebrew it can also mean to “break forth,” to “shine,” to “grow [bright].”114 It is in this sense a worker in copper / bronze (Jastrow 555). See also n. 4 in Soncino 156 above. In y. Šeqal. 2:5, 47a (Neusner 15.52) “the synagogue of the ‘Tarsians’” is also mentioned. Acts 6:9 speaks of those in Jerusalem “who belonged to the synagogue of the Freedmen (as it was called), Cyrenians, Alexandrians, and others from Cilicia and Asia.” More than one synagogue may be meant here. 110 Cf. t. Yoma 2:5–6 (Zuckermandel / Liebermann 183–184; Eng. Neusner 2.193–194), and b. Yoma 38a (Soncino 176). 111 Cf. Introduction 85. This may also be true of R. Yoḥanan “the ‘sandelmaker’” (ibid.). 112 Cf. his The Pre-Christian Paul, in collaboration with Roland Deines (London: SCM, 1991) 55. 113 Cf. BDG 62 and LSJ 123. It can also mean “the quarter of sunrise,” the “east” (ibid.), as in Matt 2:2, 9; Rev 7:2; and 16:12. See also the references to Justin Martyr and Melito in Heinrich Schlier, art. ἀνατέλλω, ἀνατολή in TDNT 1.353. 114 Cf. again Jastrow 1287.

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that it is also found in Judaic tradition on Mordecai and Esther, two “redeemers” of Israel. To better understand this, a short sketch of the Esther narrative in Judaic tradition is helpful. The biblical book of Esther, consisting of nine chapters, is best described as an “historical novel,” which is “neither pure fact nor pure fiction.”115 It appears to have “reached its final form in either the late Persian or early Hellenistic Period,”116 and to have been composed in the Jewish diaspora of the East.117 One tradition maintains that its being read between 11–15th of Adar goes back all the way to the “Men of the Great Assembly / Synagogue,” (beginning with Ezra).118 A baraitha also states that the Book of Esther “was composed under the inspiration of the holy spirit.”119 This is because Esther was considered to be the last of the seven prophetesses of Israel,120 and Mordecai also to have been a prophet.121 The great popularity of the Scroll of Esther led not only to two different Greek translations of it, but also to six later additions, four of which have a Semitic “Vorlage.”122 In addition, it is unusual among the writings in having two targums.123 The “Scroll” of Esther is treated in the Mishnah tractate “Megillah,” which is commented on in the Tosefta, as well as in the Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmuds, and is dealt with in the midrash Esther Rabbah.124 115 Cf. Carey Moore, Esther (AB 7B; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1971) LII. He notes that the author “was primarily concerned with telling an interesting and lively story which would provide the ‘historical’ basis for the festival of Purim” (LIII). 116 Ibid., LIX. 117 Cf. Gilles Gerleman, Esther (BKAT XXI; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1973) 37. 118 Cf. b. Meg. 2a (Soncino 2, with n. 5 on this group); see also m. ͗Abot 1:1 on it (Soncino 1, with n. 5), as well as b. Meg. 19b (Soncino 119, with n. 8) and 10b on Est 1:1 (Soncino 56). In y. Meg. 1:5, 70d, it is even maintained that the Scroll of Esther “was stated to Moses at Sinai” (Neusner 19.33). 119 Cf. b. Meg. 7a (Soncino 36, with n. 8), where “Eleazar” should probably be “Eliezer.” There other Tannaites concur with him. 120 Cf. b. Meg. 14a (Soncino 82), with the holy spirit’s clothing her in 14b (Soncino 85). See also S. ῾Olam Rab. 21 (Guggenheimer 183–184). 121 Cf. b. Meg. 15a (Soncino 87), which states that he prophesied “in the second year of Darius.” See also S. ῾Olam Rab. 20 (Guggenheimer 178), as well as 2 Tg. Est 2:22 and 4:1 (Grossfeld 140 and 150). 122 Cf. Carey Moore, Daniel, Esther and Jeremiah: The Additions (AB 44; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1977) 155. He maintains all six are from the second and first centuries BCE (167). See also Bruce Metzer, art. “Esther, Additions to the Book of,” in EncJud (2007) 6.518–519. 123 Cf. the annotated translation of both by Bernard Grossfeld, The Two Targums of Esther, 1991, as well as his critical edition of The First Targum to Esther, 1983. 124 Cf. Moshe David Herr, art. “Esther Rabbah,” in EncJud (2007) 6.519–520, who points out that it consists of two different midrashim (1–6 and 7–10). In b. Meg. 10b–17a (Soncino 56–102) there is also a running midrash on the Book of Esther. For many additional materials

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Acording to t. Meg. 2:7, all Jewish males were obligated to participate in the reading of the Scroll of Esther, even priests and Levites on Temple duty.125 It was so popular that already in Hasmonean times the 14th of Adar became known as “Mordecai’s Day” (2 Macc 15:36). One tradition maintains that in the future the prophets and the writings will be annulled. However, the Pentateuch and the Scroll of Esther will remain.126 Four reasons for the great popularity of the Book of Esther are found in the narrative itself, as well as in Judaic tradition on this scroll. 1. The Danger of Total Annihilation King Ahasuerus made Haman son of Hammedatha the Agagite127 his main minister (Est 3:1; 5:11). He then ordered that all his officials bow down and do obeisance to Haman, yet Mordecai the Jew was the only one to refuse to do so. This infuriated Haman so much that he “plotted to destroy all the Jews, the people of Mordecai, throughout the whole kingdom of Ahasuerus” (3:6). He then persuaded the king to send letters “to all the king’s provinces, giving orders to destroy, to kill, and to annihilate all Jews, young and old, women and children, in one day,” the 13th of Adar, and “to plunder their goods” (v. 13). This motif of the total destruction of the Jewish people permeates the entire Book of Esther (4:7–8; 7:3–4; 8:3,5–6; 9:1–2, 24) and is understandably commented on greatly in Judaic tradition.128 According to the latter, Ahasuerus was one of the three persons who ruled from one end of the world to the other.129 That is, world Jewry was threatened

on this narrative, see Louis Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews 4.365–448 with its relevant notes. 125 Cf. Zuckermandel / Liebermann 223; Eng. Neusner 2.285. See y. Meg. 2:5, 73b (Neusner 19.104) on the latter, as well as the “members of the council.” Bar Qappara, a fifth generation Tanna (Introduction 90), maintained it must be read before women and children because they also were affected by the contents of the narrative (y. Meg. ibid.; Neusner 19.107). See also the baraitha in b. Meg. 3a (Soncino 11). 126 Cf. y. Meg. 1:5, 70d (Neusner 19.33). Interestingly, according to Moore, Esther XVII, “Maimonides (1135–1204 CE) ranked [Esther] after the Pentateuch.” 127 This is the reason the section “Then came Amalek” (Exod 17:8–16) is read from the Pentateuch at Purim. Cf. m. Meg. 3:6 (Albeck 2.364; Eng. Danby 205, with n. 20). Exod 17:16 states: “The Lord will have war with Amalek from generation to generation.” 128 Cf. e.g. Josephus, Ant. 11.184, 211, 213 (“root and branch”), 218–219, 224, 262, 276, 279, 282 and 294, as well as Esther Rabbah, proems 7 and 11 (Vilna 3–4; Soncino 9.8,14). 129 Cf. b. Meg. 11a with “Our Rabbis taught,” and “from India to Ethiopia,” as “from Hodu to Cush” in Est 1:1 is interpreted (Soncino 63–64). See also the 127 provinces of the kingdom of Ahasuerus in 9:30. In the Second Targum on Est 1:1, Xerxes (Ahasuerus) is one of the ten kings who ruled and were destined to rule, the ninth being “the son of David, the Messiah.” In addition, he was one of four who ruled from one end of the world to the other (Grossfeld 96–97 and 100).

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with complete annihilation. Esther is represented as instructing that Mordecai be told: “never in their history have Israel been in such a crisis as this.”130 2. Mordecai and Esther as Delivering / Redeeming Israel The major event of divine deliverance in Israel’s history was the exodus from Egypt. The third generation Tanna Joshua b. Qorḥa131 refers to it and the deliverance from the above threat of total annihilation of the Jewish people at the time of Esther when he asks in b. Meg. 14a: “If for being delivered from slavery to freedom we chant a hymn of praise [the Hallel, psalms 113–118], should we not do so all the more for being delivered from death to life?”132 When Queen Esther persuaded King Ahasuerus to rescind the order to exterminate all the Jews in the 127 provinces of his empire, from India to Ethiopia (Esther 8), “all the ends of the earth saw the salvation of our God” (Ps 98:3) “in the days of Mordecai and Esther.”133 Mordecai had not only saved the king from being assassinated by two of his eunuchs (Est 2:19–23).134 By influencing Esther to persuade her husband to take back his command that all Jews in his kingdom be executed, “a redeemer [‫‘ ]גּו ֵֺאל‬sprouted up’ [‫ ]נצמח‬for them and ‘redeemed them’ [‫]גאלם‬. And who was he? Mordecai,” as Midr. Pss. 22/15 on Psalm 22, superscription, states.135 The role of Esther in delivering her people from complete destruction is also emphasized. This is shown, for example, in LXX Est 4:8, where Mordecai tells Esther, “speak to the king in our behalf, and save [ῥύσαι] us from death,” as well as in Est. Rab. 6/6–7 on Est 2:7.136 Esther and Mordecai can also be named together as the “redeemers” of the people of Israel. In Est. Rab. 6/1 on Est 2:5, for example, David asks God to remember him “when You will work salvation for Israel by the hand of Mordecai and Esther – at the time when Haman sought to destroy Israel....”137 1 Tg.

130

Cf. Est. Rab. 8/4 on Est 4:5 (Vilna 26; Soncino 9.105). Cf. Introduction 85. 132 Cf. Soncino 81, which then notes that this is not said for “a miracle which occurred outside the land of Israel.” The two redemptions are also linked together in y. Meg. 1:5, 70d (Neusner 19.34). 133 Cf. b. Meg. 11a (Soncino 60). It is significant that the blessing later spoken after the reading of the Megillah ends concerning God: “Who redeems you and saves you from the hand of your oppressors” (y. Meg. 4:1, 74d in Neusner 19.146). 134 Cf. Josephus, Ant. 11.255 and 258. In 278 the king therefore calls Mordecai “my benefactor and savior.” On this, see also Addition E, 16:13. 135 Cf. Buber 187; Eng. Braude 1.309–310. The importance of this psalm for Esther as a redeemer will be shown in section 5. below. 136 Cf. Vilna 20; Soncino 9.76–77. 137 Cf. Vilna 19; Soncino 9.72. 131

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Est 2:5 notes “the redeemers Mordecai and Esther,”138 and 2 Tg. 3:14 states that “Mordecai and Esther emerged as redeemers of Israel.”139 3. This Deliverance as a Miracle Judaic commentary on Mordecai and Esther's rescuing all their fellow Jews ָ ִ‫)נ‬.140 from certain destruction frequently labels it a “miracle” ( ‫ נֵ ס‬, Aramaic ‫יסּא‬ 141 R. Simeon b. Menasyah, a fourth generation Tanna, maintained that when Esther invited King Ahasuerus and Haman to her banquet (5:4), God would notice the terrible condition of her people “and do a miracle for us.”142 Performing the precept of reading the Megillah in Hebrew and “proclaiming the miracle” is also an obligation for men, even if it is not understood by women and ignorant people.143 1 Tg. Est 9:29 states that Esther and Mordecai “wrote this entire scroll – ‘the power of the miracle’ – to confirm this letter of Purim a second time.”144 Addition F relates how Mordecai’s dream was fulfilled. At 10:9 it states: “And my nation, this is Israel, who cried out to God and was saved. The Lord has saved His people; the Lord has rescued us from all these evils. God has done ‘great signs and wonders,’ wonders that have never happened among the nations.” Finally, in regard to the superscription of Psalm 22, b. Yoma 29a states that Esther is there compared to the dawn “to tell you that just as the dawn is the end of the whole night, so is the story of Esther the end of all the miracles [in Scripture].”145 The association of the Scroll of Esther with the motif of “miracle” in regard to divine deliverance aided in making it popular. Another factor in this respect was even more important. 4. The Annual Celebration of the Purim Festival To commemorate the miraculous deliverance of the entire Jewish people from annihilation, the annual celebration of Purim was inaugurated on the 14th and 15th of Adar (Est 9:18–31).146 Presents are to be given to the poor at this time (9:22). Alms were collected and distributed on the 14th of Adar, “for the eyes of the poor are raised only to the day of the reading of the Scroll of Esther, as 138

Cf. Grossfeld, The First Targum to Esther, Aramaic 10, Eng. 45. He calls attention in this regard to the Tosefta Targum on 1 Kgs 2:36. See also 2 Tg. Est 2:5 (Grossfeld 135). 139 Cf. Grossfeld 149. 140 Cf. n. 68. 141 Cf. Introduction 89. 142 Cf. b. Meg. 15b (Soncino 92). 143 Cf. b. Meg. 18a (Soncino 111; note 5 explains: “Because they enquire and are told”). 144 Cf. Grossfeld, Aramaic 36, Eng. 72. See also 9:26 (Grossfeld, Aramaic 35, Eng. 71). 145 Cf. Soncino 136. Yet if one now sees the Scroll of Esther in a dream, he “will have a miracle wrought for him” (b. Ber. 57b, in Soncino 355–356). 146 Cf. the art. “Purim” by Louis Jacobs in EncJud (2007) 16.740–741.

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it is said, ‘These days should be remembered’ (9:28).”147 In regard to the “holiday” of 9:19, it is stated in b. Meg. 5b that it is forbidden then to mourn, fast, or do any work.148 Importance, in contrast, was attached to feasting (9:19,22). This certainly involved the eating of meat, a rare delicacy for many,149 and the drinking of wine. In b. Meg. 7b the latter is described so: “It is the duty of a man to mellow himself on Purim until he cannot tell the difference between ‘cursed be Haman’ and ‘blessed be Mordecai.’”150 * * * The above brief analysis of the danger of total annihilation of the Jewish people, Mordecai and Esther as delivering / redeeming Israel from this terrible fate, the miraculous character of the events involved, and the obligation and great popularity of the annual celebration of the Purim festival, serves to better understand and appreciate Esther as the “hind of the dawn” (5.), light imagery (6.), and the relevance of these to Luke 1:78–79. 5. Esther as the “Hind of the Dawn” Elsewhere I have pointed out the relevance of Judaic tradition on Esther to the changing of water into wine in John 2:1–11, the beheading of John the Baptist in Mark 6:17–29, and the mocking of Mordecai and the mocking of Jesus in Mark 15:16–21a.151 Here I relate Judaic traditions on Esther as the “hind of the dawn” to Luke 1:78–79. No one would deny that when Jesus utters the words at his Crucifixion, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34 // Matt 27:46), this is a direct quotation of Ps 22:2 (Eng. 1). The previous distribution of his clothes by lot in Mark 15:24 par. (John 19:24 even as a quotation) is an interpretation

147

Cf. t. Meg. 1:4 (Zuckermandel / Liebermann 222, corrected to Eliezer; Neusner 2.280). In 1:5, R. Eliezer (b. Hyrcanus, a second generation Tanna of the older group: Introduction 77,) speaks of funds collected for Purim and the poor. See also y. Meg. 1:1, 70a (Neusner 19.6). 148 Cf. Soncino 24. 149 Cf. again t. Meg. 1:5 (Zuckermandel / Liebermann 222; Neusner 2.280): “they buy calves [for the poor] and slaughter them, and [the poor] consume them.” 150 Cf. Soncino 18. 151 Cf. my Water into Wine and the Beheading of John the Baptist (BJS 150; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988), and “The Mocking of Mordecai, and the Mocking of Jesus in Mark 15:16–21a” in The Death, Burial, and Resurrection of Jesus, and the Death, Burial, and Translation of Moses in Judaic Tradition (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 2008) 253–275.

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of Ps 22:19 (Eng. 18). The bystanders’ “shaking their heads” at Jesus on the Cross in Mark 15:29 (// Matt 27:39) also takes up Ps 22:8 (Eng. 7).152 Palestinian Jewish Christians thus reinterpreted Psalm 22 to apply to their own redeemer in his darkest hour, that of the Crucifixion.153 Early Palestinian (and later Babylonian) Jews had first interpreted this psalm to apply to the redeemer of Israel, Esther, in her own darkest hour.154 It can be briefly sketched with the following. Est 5:1–3 describes how King Ahasuerus was sitting on his royal throne in the palace, holding a golden scepter in his hand. Haggadic tradition of this incident relates that anyone who dared to approach the king without being summoned beforehand would be executed. Thinking this also applied to her, Esther was deathly afraid of drawing near to her husband in order to start the process of intervention for her own people, the Jews, who had been condemned to complete annihilation. This is the key turning point for the better in the entire retold narrative, and for this reason it is given extensive coverage in Judaic tradition.155 An example from b. Meg. 15b on Est 5:2, “[Esther] stood in the inner court of the king’s palace,” has R. Levi, a third generation Palestinian Amora,156 state: “When she reached the chamber of the idols, the Divine Presence left her. She said, ‘My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?’ (Ps 22:2, Eng. 1).”157 152 Mark 15:36 states that at the Crucifixion someone filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to Jesus to drink (for his thirst; // Matt 27:48). Jesus’ “thirst” in John 19:28 now reflects Ps 69:21 (and 3), but originally may have derived from Ps 22:16 (Eng. 15): “My mouth [lit., strength] is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws.” In Judaic tradition Esther by now had been fasting for three days. 2 Tg. Est 5:2 notes that at this point “her throat became dry on account of her mouth” (Grossfeld 161, with the additions found in notes “p” and “q”). 153 The catchword “hanging / crucifying” also connected the two narratives. Josephus, for example, describes the hanging of Haman (Est 7:9–10) on the “cross” (σταυρός) he had prepared for Mordecai in Ant. 11.261, 266–267. He employs for this the verb to “crucify” (ἀνασταυρόω) in 11.246 and 280. 154 While most of the cited Judaic sources are now to be dated later than the Gospels, their basic content is earlier than the NT. No Jew would even have thought of borrowing the Christian application of Psalm 22 to Jesus and then interpreting it of Esther. The association of the festival of Purim (“to cast Pur, that is ‘the lot’” in Est 3:7 and 9:24) and “the casting of lots” in Ps 22:19 (Eng. 18) certainly also aided in making this the “Esther Psalm.” 155 Cf. e.g. Addition C with Esther’s Prayer on the occasion of her now being “seized with deathly anxiety” (v. 1 of 14:1–19); Josephus, Ant. 11.205 and 234–241; Est. Rab. 9/1 (Soncino 9.109); b. Meg. 15b (Soncino 91–92); 1 Tg. Est 5:1–4 (Eng. Grossfeld 58–59); and 2 Tg. Est 5:1–3 (Grossfeld 159–163). 156 Cf. Introduction 98. 157 Cf. Soncino 91, with her further remarks on this occasion based on Ps 22:21–22 (Eng. 22–23). See again R. Simeon b. Menasyah on Esther’s words at this point: “Perhaps the Omnipresent will notice [n. 11: to what straits I am brought] and do a miracle for us” (p. 92). See also Midr. Pss. 22/6 on Esther’s speaking Ps 22:2–6 on this occasion (Buber 183; Eng.

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The part of Psalm 22 most relevant to Luke 1:78–79, however, is the superscription, v. 1 in Hebrew. It reads: “To the leader: according to the hind of the dawn. A psalm of David.” An ‫ ַאיָּ לָ ה‬is a female deer, a hind / doe,158 and “the hind of the dawn” was most probably a liturgical melody.159 Esther as the “hind of the dawn” is the subject of fifteen of the thirty-two sections in Midrash Psalms on psalm twenty-two, showing how important this expression was in Judaic interpretation of the Esther narrative. All thirty-two sections of the midrash, however, also deal with the biblical story of Esther, justifying the designation of it as the “Esther Psalm.” The “dawn” (‫)שׁ ַחר‬ ַ 160 plays a major role in Esther (and Mordecai’s) redeeming / delivering Israel. In comment on “the hind of the dawn” interpreted of Esther in Ps 22:1 (Eng. superscription), b. Yoma 29a states that “just as the antlers of the hind branch off this way and that way, so the light of the dawn is scattered in all directions.”161 “The light of Israel” in Isa 10:17, in connection with Ps 22:2, is considered to refer to Esther, “who gave light to Israel like the light of dawn.”162 This was a gradual process, however. In Midr. Pss. 18/36 on the “deliverance” of Ps 18:51, it is stated that Israel would not endure all the afflictions associated with the sudden coming of great deliverance. “Hence, deliverance will come little by little, and will be enlarged gradually for Israel. Therefore deliverance is likened to the dawn, as is said: ‘Then shall your light break forth like the dawn’ (Isa 58:8). Why is deliverance likened to the dawn? Because you know no darkness greater than the hour nearest to dawn.” First the “pillar of dawn” rises and gives light to the world, then the entire sun.163

Braude 1.302–303), as well as 22/16 (Buber 188; Eng. Braude 1.311). Elimelech Halevy in the art. “Esther,” “In the Aggadah,” in EncJud (2007) 6.517 calls attention in this regard to Tintoretto’s painting of 1545, “The Swooning of Esther.” 158 Cf. BDB 19. 159 Cf. Hans-Joachim Kraus, Psalmen 1–59 (BKTA XV/1; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 20037) 26. A. A. Anderson in Psalms, Volume 1 (NCB 19,1; London: Oliphants, 1977) 185 considers the possibility of its being “a song popular at the time of the Psalmist or of the editor.” See also Peter Craigie, Psalms 1–50 (WBC 19; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1983) 196: “the name of the tune to which the psalm was to be sung.” An alternative vocalization as “support” plays only a minor role in Judaic comment at this point. 160 Cf. BDB 1007. It should be noted that the Ugaritic god šḥr as a sun deity is insignificant for the Judaic interpretation of Ps 22:1. On it, see Anton Jirku, “ ͗Ajjelet haš-Šakar (Ps 221)” in ZNW 65 (1953) 85–86. 161 Cf. Soncino 136. Another commentator says Esther was compared to the dawn “to tell you that just as the dawn is the end of the whole night, so is the story of Esther the end of all the miracles” (ibid.). Dawn was also the first time for prayer, as indicated in Wis 16:28 – “one must rise before the sun to give You thanks, and must pray to You at the dawning [ἀνατολή] of the light.” 162 Cf. Midr. Pss. 22/2–3 (Buber 181; Eng. Braude 1.298). 163 Cf. Buber 162; Eng. Braude 1.269–270. On this motif, see also 22/4 on Ps 22:1 (Buber 181–182; Eng. Braude 1.299–300). The great afflictions accompanying final deliverance are

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Gradual redemption / deliverance as related to the Esther narrative is found in Midr. Pss. 22/13, with numerous parallels. As in 22/11, it interprets the “hind of the dawn” in light of Cant 6:10, “Who is this who looks out [of the window] like ‘the dawn’?”164 R. Ḥiyya bar Abba, who lived in Tiberias, and R. Simeon b. Ḥalafta, both fifth generation Tannaim, were friends.165 Once they were walking in the Valley of Arbel166 at daybreak.167 They saw that the light of the “hind of the dawn” was breaking forth. R. Ḥiyya said, “The redemption of Israel will be like this!” R. Simeon replied, “It corresponds to what is written, ‘When I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me’ (Mic 7:8). In the beginning it comes little by little, but afterwards it continues to spread. After this it increases and expands. At last it grows bright and brighter. It was similar at the beginning [of the redemption / deliverance under Mordecai and Esther]: ‘Mordecai was sitting at the gate of the king’ (Est 2:21). Afterwards, ‘When the king saw Esther the queen’ (5:2). Afterwards, ‘Haman took the apparel and the horse’ (6:11). Afterwards, ‘They hanged Haman’ (7:10). Afterwards, ‘Write concerning the Jews’ (8:8). Afterwards, ‘Mordecai went forth from the presence of the king in royal apparel’ (8:15). And finally, ‘The Jews had light’ (8:16).”168

Before this narrative in y. Ber. 1:1, 2c, it is related that from the “hind of the dawn” until the east(ern sky) is lit, one can walk four miles. From that time until actual sunrise, one can walk (an additional) four miles.169 Shortly afterwards the “hind of the dawn” is said to refer to “[the appearance of] two rays

the so-called “Messianic Woes.” On God’s aid in the Hebrew Bible coming especially in the morning, see the passages cited by Joseph Ziegler in “Die Hilfe Gottes ‘am Morgen,’” in Alttestamentliche Studien. Festschrift Friedrich Nötscher, ed. Hubert Junker and Johannes Botterweck (Bonn: Peter Hanstein, 1950) 281–288. One example is Ps 46:6 (Eng. 5): “God will help it [the city] when the morning dawns.” Another is Isa 58:8 noted above – “Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall ‘sprout up’ [‫ ] ִת ְצ ַמח‬quickly.” 164 Cf. Buber 187; Eng. Braude 1.308–309. In section 12 directly before this, R. Eliezer (b. Hyrcanus) and R. Joshua, both second generation Tannaim (Introduction 79), also comment on Cant 6:10, showing early interpretation of the verse. See also parallel traditions in Est. Rab. 10/14 (Vilna 30; Soncino 9.123); Cant. Rab. 6:10 § 1 (Dunski 147; Soncino 9.268); y. Ber. 1:1, 2c (Neusner / Zahavy 1.14, with helpful annotations); and y. Yoma 3:2, 40b (Neusner 14.75–76). 165 Cf. Introduction 90–91. 166 On it, cf. Gottfried Reeg, Die Ortsnamen Israels nach der rabbinischen Literatur (Wiesbaden: Ludwig Reichert, 1989) 138–139. The valley lay just NW of Tiberias. See the Tübingen Bible Atlas, ed. Siegfried Mittmann and Götz Schmitt (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2001) B V 18. 167 ְ ‫ ְק ִר‬, and ‫ ְק ַרץ‬II as to get up early (1425). Cf. Jastrow 1421 on ‫יצ ָתּא‬ 168 As so often, it is assumed that the hearer / reader knows the continuation of all the verses cited, which aids in appreciating the growth of the redemption / deliverance. 169 Cf. Neusner / Zahavy 1.13. In y. Ber. 1:2, 3b (Neusner / Zahavy 1.33), R. Jonah notes that sunrise is (only) “when the sun begins to shine across the mountaintops,” important to note in regard to hilly / mountainous Palestine.

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of light which originate in the eastern sky and illuminate [the heaven].”170 This corroborates the remarks of R. Simeon b. Ḥalafta above, made while taking a very early walk. The redemption / delivery (‫)גְּ אוּלָ ה‬171 of the Jews in the Esther narrative is described here as a similarly gradual process, all of it related to the “hind of the dawn,” Esther. It ends in the “light” of Est 8:16. The relevance of this to Luke 1:78–79 will now be described. 6. Light Through the Redeemers Esther, Mordecai and the Messiah After Esther saved her fellow Jews and Mordecai was richly rewarded, 8:16 states: “For the Jews there was ‘light’ and gladness, joy and honor.” “Light” here is the Hebrew ‫או ָֺרה‬,172 LXX φῶς. As noted above, the gradual process of redemption in the Esther narrative, with Esther as the “hind of the dawn,” ends with “For the Jews there was light” from this verse. Josephus in Ant. 11.285 states regarding this: “when the letter of the king was published, joy and the ‘light of salvation’ [σωτήριον φέγγος] came upon the Jews both in the city and the provinces....” Other passages relate this light to salvation, Esther, Mordecai and the Messiah. Deut. Rab. Va ͗etḥanan 2/22 on Deut 4:20 first describes the distress in Shushan with Est 4:3, “And there was great mourning among the Jews.” It then ָ ‫ ] ְי‬to sprout up continues: “God, however, immediately caused salvation [‫שׁוּﬠה‬ [ ַ ‫ ] ִה ְצ ִמי‬for them.”173 Exod. Rab. Bo 15/6 on Exod 12:2 states: Ahasuerus “decreed that Israel should be destroyed, slain, and made to perish; but Esther came and brought light to Israel, as it says: Est 8:16.”174 A similar thought is expressed in Midr. Pss. 22/3 on Ps 22:2. As noted above, there “the light [‫]או ֺר‬ of Israel” in Isa 10:17 is interpreted as: “This is Esther, who brought light to Israel like the light of dawn.”175 In the latter midrash, section 22/2 states that “the light of Israel” is Mordecai.176 Section 22/15 on Ps 22:1 first cites Isa 9:1, “The people that walked in darkness have seen a great ‘light’ [‫]או ֺר‬.” This is interpreted as the generation of Mordecai, for “no day was darker and more evil for the people of Israel than the one at Shushan the castle, when it was decreed ‘to destroy, to slay, and to

170

Ibid., 1.14. Zahavy notes that the term qrn designates both “ray” and “antler.” Cf. the citation from b. Yoma 29a above. 171 Cf. Jastrow 201. 172 Cf. BDB 21. This form only occurs here, in Ps 139:12 and Isa 26:19. The much more common term is ‫( או ֺר‬ibid.). 173 Cf. Mirkin 11.42; Soncino 7.50–51. The causative of the verb ṣmḥ in this context should be noted. On “light” and “sprouting up” together, see also Isa 58:8 cited above. 174 Cf. Mirkin 5.167; Soncino 3.166. The hiphil of the verb ‫ או ֺר‬is employed here: to brighten, make shine (Jastrow 32, I.2). 175 Cf. n. 161. See also Add Esth A, 11:11, as well as F, 10:6. 176 Cf. Buber 180; Eng. Braude 1.298. “His holy one” is Esther.

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cause to perish, all Jews ... in one day’ (Est 3:13). But they saw a great ‘light’: A redeemer ‘sprouted up’ [‫ ]נצמח‬and redeemed them. And who was he? Mordecai, of whom it is written: Est 8:15 and 16.”177 The prophet Isaiah has God say of His servant, His chosen one (42:1), that he is “a light to the nations” (v. 6). Of this servant God states in 49:6, “I will give you as a light to the nations, that My salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” Earlier in 9:1 (Eng. 2) Isaiah says in regard to the birth of the Messiah of vv. 5–6 (Eng. 6–7): “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great ‘light’ [‫ ;או ֺר‬LXX φῶς]; those who lived in a land of the shadow of death – on them ‘light’ [‫ ;או ֺר‬LXX φῶς] has shined.”178 In Tanḥ. Teṣaveh 8 on Exod 27:20, “pure olive oil beaten for the light, so that a lamp may be set up to burn regularly,” God has Moses tell the Israelites: In the world to come, because of their employing the lamp, “I will bring you the King, the Messiah, who is likened to a lamp, as it is said: ‘There I will cause a horn to sprout up [ ַ ‫ ] ַא ְצ ִמי‬for David; I have prepared a lamp for My Messiah’” (Ps 132:17).179 While the Messiah is also associated with light in at least one other text,180 he is especially described in such terms in the rabbinic works on the texts for festal days and special Sabbaths, Pesiqta de-Rab Kahana and Pesiqta Rabbati. In Pesiq. Rav Kah., Supplement 5, for example, Israel asks whether the hope for the Messiah has no set time. God answers by maintaining He will comfort Zion with the words, “Arise, shine, for your light has come” (Isa 60:1).181 Section 36 of Pesiqta Rabbati on Isa 60:1–2 deals almost exclusively with the light of the Messiah. In 36/1 the light of Ps 36:10, “In Your light we see light,” is interpreted as that of the Messiah, of which it is said, “And God saw the light that it was good” (Gen 1:4).182 In 36/2, when the King Messiah appears, God “will brighten the light of the King Messiah and Israel, while all the nations of the earth will be in darkness – in gross darkness – and they shall walk, all of them, by the light of the Messiah and of Israel, as is said: ‘And nations shall walk at your light, and kings at the brightness of your rising’ (Isa 60:3).”183 While such passages in their present form are quite late, they continue a much earlier line of messianic interpretation as shown in NT passages such as 177 178

Cf. Buber 187; Eng. Braude 1.309–310. Cf. the Targum of v. 5 (Eng. 6) for this as a description of the Messiah (Stenning 30–

31). 179

Cf. Eshkol 379; Eng. Berman 549. The section ends with a quotation of Isa 60:3 (not 30, as in Berman). 180 Cf. Gen. Rab. Bereshith 1/6 on Gen 1:1 with the light of Dan 2:22 (Theodor and Albeck 3–4; Soncino 1.3). 181 Cf. Mandelbaum 465; Eng. Braude and Kapstein 482–483. 182 Cf. Friedmann 171a; Eng. Braude 677. The midrash says this shows that God “contemplated the Messiah and his works before the world was created.” 183 Cf. Friedmann 172a; Eng. Braude 682.

Luke 1:78–79

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Matt 4:16, quoting Isa 9:2 of Jesus; Luke 2:32, reflecting Isa 42:6 and 49:6; John 1:4–5, 7–9; 3:19; 8:12; 9:5; 12:35–36, 46; Acts 26:23; 2 Cor 4:6; Eph 5:14; 1 Tim 6:16; 2 Pet 1:19 – “until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts”; 1 John 2:8; and Rev 21:23. Luke 1:78 in the NRSV says that “the dawn [ἀνατολή] from on high will break upon us,” continued in v. 79 with “to give light to those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.” The original Semitic author of the Benedictus appears to have formulated the first clause of the latter verse in light of Judaic tradition on the Esther narrative, especially 8:16 with “light,” and Isa 9:1. “To give light to those who sit / live in darkness and the shadow of death” is the Greek: ἐπιφᾶναι τοῖς ἐν σκότει καὶ σκιᾷ θανάτου καθημένοις.184 The form ἐπιφᾶναι is the aorist infinitive of ἐπιφαίνω, to “show light, dawn,” to “appear.”185 In nine passages in the LXX with a Hebrew equivalent, in the majority it translates the hiphil of ‫או ֺר‬,186 to “give light.”187 The hiphil infinitive is ‫ ָה ִאיר‬, which is why both Delitzsch and the United Bible Societies in their Hebrew New Testaments have here ‫לְ ָה ִאיר‬.188 The form καθημένοις is the dative masculine plural present participle of κάθημαι, which here does not literally mean to “sit,” but to “live,” “reside.”189 In the LXX it almost always translates the Hebrew ‫ יָ ַשׁב‬, with the same meanְ ְ‫ל‬, also as ing.190 The original Hebrew behind καθημένοις would have been ‫ישׁ ֵבי‬ 191 in Delitzsch and the United Bible Societies. The expression “in the shadow of death” is the Greek σκιᾷ θανάτου. “Shadow” here is σκιά.192 Coupled with “death” (θάνατος), it is directly associated with “darkness,” σκότος,193 four times in the LXX, including once with κάθημαι.194 Yet it is Isa 9:1 (Eng. 2) which appears to be in the mind of the Semitic author of the original Benedictus at this point. The prophet Isaiah in 9:5–6 (Eng. 6–7) foresees the coming Messiah, a child, a son, the Prince of Peace, who will establish the throne of David and his kingdom. The opening of this unit (9:1–6, Eng. 2–7) is verse one (Eng. 2): “The people who walk in darkness have seen a great light; those who live in a land of the shadow of 184

Only MS “D” adds φῶς, “light,” after the beginning verb. Cf. LSJ 669, II., citing this passage, and BAGD 304. 186 It only translates another Hebrew verb twice, and four others once. 187 Cf. BDB 21, 1., and shine, 2.; Jastrow 32: to break through, shine. 188 Cf. 102 and 148 respectively. 189 Cf. BAGD 389, 1.b., and LSJ 853, 4. See also Matt 4:16 with Isa 9:2. 190 Cf. BDB 442–443, “remain,” “dwell,” “have one’s abode” in; Jastrow 599. 191 Cf. n. 188. The lamed is “to,” corresponding to the dative of κάθημαι. 192 Cf. BAGD 755, “shade,” “shadow”; LSJ 1609. 193 Cf. BAGD 757, “darkness,” “gloom”; LSJ 1615. 194 Cf. Job 3:5; 28:3; Ps 106:10 (“Some ‘sat’ in darkness and the shadow of death, prisoners in misery and irons”), and 14. 185

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death – on them light has shined.” Here the LXX has for “living” not κάθημαι, ֶ for “darkness,”196 ‫ י ְֺשׁ ֵבי‬for “living,” but κατοικέω.195 The Hebrew text has ‫חשׁ‬ 197 ‫ת‬ ֶ‫ו‬ ‫מ‬ ָ ְ‫לּ‬ ‫צ‬ ַ and for the “shadow of death.” Both Delitzsch and the United Bible ֶ ‫ישׁ ֵבי‬ ְ ְ‫ל‬.198 Only Ps Societies have on Luke 1:79 the very similar ‫חשׁ וְ ַצלְ ָמוֶ ת‬ ‫ת‬ ֶ‫ו‬ ‫מ‬ ָ ְ‫ל‬ ‫צ‬ ַ ְ‫ו‬ ‫חשׁ‬ ֶ ‫י‬ ‫ב‬ ֵ ‫ֺשׁ‬ ְ ‫י‬ 107:10 in the Hebrew also has , yet its imagery of “prisoners in misery and in irons” was not helpful to the author, but rather the messianic passage of Isa 9:1 (Eng. 2). The major reason for his choosing imagery from it, however, was its employment in Judaic comment on the Esther narrative. Midr. Pss. 22/15 deals with Ps 22:1 (Eng. superscription), “For the leader, upon the hind of the dawn.” It is shortly after the narrative of R. Simeon b. Ḥalafta’s explaining to his friend R. Ḥiyya bar Abba that the redemption of Israel is gradual, as in the Book of Esther, starting with the break of dawn, and ending with full “light,” as in Est 8:16. It states: This is what Scripture states: “The people that walk in darkness saw a great light; [those who live in a land of the shadow of death – on them light has shined]” (Isa 9:1, Eng. 2).199 Scripture relates that in the generation of Mordecai there was no more evil and darker time for Israel than at Shushan the castle, for it was decreed upon them “to destroy, to slay, and to cause to perish [all Jews, young and old, women and children, in one day]” (Est 3:13). “And they saw a great light” (Isa 9:1), for a redeemer sprouted up for them and redeemed them. And who was this? Mordecai, as it is written: “And Mordecai went forth from the presence of the king [in royal apparel of blue and white]” (Est 8:15). What is written after this? “The Jews had light” (v. 16).200

Here the “great light” of Isa 9:1 (Eng. 2) is interpreted of the “redeemer” (‫)גּו ֵֺאל‬ who “redeemed” (‫ )גָּ ַאל‬the Israelites in their darkest hour, when they were threatened with total destruction. He “sprouted up” in order to do so. This is the niphal ‫נִ ְצ ַמח‬, literally “was sprouted up,” “to be made to sprout up.”201 This is the divine passive, i.e. it was God who caused the redeemer Mordecai to “sprout up” just at this time. Since the same verb can also mean to “break forth,” to “shine,” it suits the light imagery of Isa 9:1 and Est 8:16 very well. For the above reasons I suggest that the Semitic author of the Benedictus first employed ‫ ֶצ ַמח‬for what is now the Greek ἀνατολή in Luke 1:78. He was aware of the association of its verbal form with Isa 9:1 (Eng. 2) in Judaic tradition on Esther as the “hind of the dawn” in Ps 22:1 (Eng. superscription). He 195

Cf. LSJ 928, 2: “settle,” “dwell.” Cf. BDB 365 on the latter. 197 Cf. BDB 853. 198 Cf. their Hebrew New Testaments, respectively 102 and 148. The term “a land of” the shadow of death did not suit the context for the author of the Benedictus, and he thus omitted it. 199 Again, the hearer / reader is assumed to know the continuation of the verse. 200 Cf. Buber 187; Eng. Braude 1.309–310. It is significant that this is the only citation of Isa 9:1 (Eng. 2) in early rabbinic literature. 201 Cf. Jastrow 1287 on ‫ ָצ ַמח‬, with this passage. 196

Luke 1:78–79

283

thus then continued in Luke 1:79 with a phrase from it, “for those living in [a land of] the shadow of death.” It is also probable that his emphasis on “peace,” “salvation,” at the very end of the Benedictus in v. 79, now εἰρήνη, was due to the interpretation of the Messiah as the “Prince of Peace” in Isa 9:5 (Eng. 6), when there shall be endless “peace” (v. 6, Eng. 7). The Palestinian Jewish Christian author, writing in Hebrew, was aware of Judaic tradition on Esther and Mordecai as the two “redeemers” of Israel at the time the Jews were threatened with total extinction. For him, however, Jesus was the true “redeemer,” the horn of salvation from the house of David (Luke 1:69). It is he who will “give light to those who sit / live in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace / salvation.” 7. Esther and Venus Esther had two names, the Hebrew one being “Hadassah,” signifying myrtle.202 Est 2:7 states that her other, non-Jewish name was “Esther” (‫) ֶא ְס ֵתּר‬. This derives either from the Persian stâra, “star,” or “Ishtar, the Babylonian goddess of Love.”203 R. Nehemiah, a third generation Tanna,204 states in b. Meg. 13a: “Hadassah was her [Jewish] name. Why was she called Esther? All [other] peoples called her after Istahar.”205 The latter is ‫ ִא ְסּ ְתּ ַהר‬, “[the bright,] Venus.”206 2 Tg. Est 2:7 states in this respect: “She was called after the name of the planet Venus, in Greek – Istera.”207 Pliny the Elder, who died in 79 CE, states in his Natural History II. 6 (36) on the very large star Venus: “when in advance [before the sun] and rising before dawn, it receives the name Lucifer, as being another sun and bringing the dawn.” In 37 he notes that it is “so brilliant that alone among the stars it casts a shadow by its rays.”208

202 Cf. BDB 213 on ‫ ֲה ַד ָסּה‬in Est 2:7 and ‫ ֲה ַדס‬, myrtle. See Dan 1:6–7 for Daniel as also having two names. 203 Cf. Moore, Esther 20, and LI, n. 80. 204 Cf. Introduction 83. 205 Cf. Soncino 75. 206 Cf. Jastrow 98. He notes Tg. Job 31:26, “If I have looked at the light of Venus [‫]אסתהר‬ when it shines” (Lagarde 108; Eng. Mangan 71). See also Ginzberg, The Legends 4.365: Esther is “Venus, the morning-star, which sheds its light after all the other stars have ceased to shine, and while the sun still delays to rise. Thus the deeds of Queen Esther cast a ray of light into Israel’s history at its darkest.” 207 Cf. Lagarde, Hagiographa Chaldaice 241; Eng. Grossfeld 136. The term ‫ כּו ָֺכב‬here means both star and planet. On it with Venus, see Jastrow 619. See also the references given under ‫נו ֺגַ הּ‬, ‫נו ֺגְ ָהא‬, with “star” meaning the planet Venus (Jastrow 883). 208 Cf. the translation by H. Rackham in LCL, Book II. Pliny also notes in 36 that when it shines after sunset, its name is Vesper. In 37 he traces knowledge of the early rising of Venus as going back to the seventh century BCE. Interestingly, “The ancient Chinese referred to the morning Venus as ‘the Great White’ ... or ‘the Opener (Starter) of Brightness’....” See the art. “Venus” in Wikipedia.

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2 Pet 1:19 speaks metaphorically of Christ: “until the day dawns and the morning star [φωσφόρος]209 rises / sprouts up [ἀνατέλλω] in your hearts.” Rev 22:16 also has Jesus state: “I am the root and ‘the morning star’ [ὁ ἀστὴρ ὁ λαμπρὸς ὁ πρωϊνός].”210 For the above reasons, in addition to Judaic tradition, it is all the more understandable to posit the influence of traditions on Esther / Venus to describe Jesus in Luke 1:78–79 as in the NRSV translation: “the dawn from on high will break upon us to give light to....”

IV. Summary and Conclusions Almost all commentators and authors of special studies on Luke 1:78–79, the very end of Zechariah’s “Benedictus,” deal exclusively with LXX texts as relevant background material. While this is also helpful, the above study confirms the proposal made by a number of other scholars that the hymn was originally composed in Hebrew211 by a Palestinian Jewish Christian and later translated into the present Greek.212 For this reason I adduced evidence above primarily 209 Cf. BAGD 872 and LSJ 1968. See also Ἑωσφόρος in LSJ 752 as “Bringer of morn, the Morning-star,” as well as ὁ τᾶς Ἀφροδίτας [ἀστήρ] as the planet Venus (293). 210 This image has entered modern hymnody. Cf. the second stanza of “Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross”: “Near the cross, a trembling soul, love and mercy found me; there the bright and morning star sheds its beams around me.” See also Jochen Klepper’s hymn: “Die Nacht ist vorgedrungen, der Tag ist nicht mehr fern! So sei nun Lob gesungen dem hellen Morgenstern! Auch wer zur Nacht geweinet, der stimme froh mit ein. Der Morgenstern bescheinet auch deine Angst und Pein.” 211 There are no indications in the wording that Aramaic was employed, even if the targums at times reflect relevant rabbinic traditions. 212 Since it is improbable that the Evangelist Luke himself did this, even though he apparently was a Jewish Christian, he will have appropriated the Magnificat and the Benedictus already in their basic forms in Greek. That is, they are pre-Lukan, even though he may have slightly modified them (see the commentaries for possible Lukan influences). The same was true, for example, in his access to special, originally Semitic material such as the parable of the Good Samaritan (10:25–37) and the Prodigal Son (15:11–32). Cf. my study Weihnachten, Barmherziger Samariter, Verlorener Sohn 59–125 and 126–73, respectively. Ulrike Mittmann-Richert surmises that the two hymns in Luke One could have been translated by the “Hellenists” within the (Jerusalem) Christian community. See her Magnificat und Benedictus 102, 111 and 130–132. The recent commentator Michael Wolter maintains that Luke grew up in a Jewish family, had his major socialization there, and reckoned with readers who “were conversant with the history of Israel and its sacred writings” (Das Lukasevangelium [HNT 5; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008] 9, 25). Peter von der Osten-Sacken had already adduced numerous persuasive arguments for Luke as a Hellenistic Jewish Christian in Entschluss 39 (1984) 8–9. Albert Hogeterp and Adelbert Denaux even go so far in their Semitisms in Luke’s Greek: A Descriptive Analysis of Lexical and Syntactical Domains of Semitic Language Influence in Luke’s Gospel (WUNT 401; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2018) 511 as to maintain: “nothing speaks intrinsically against the possibility of Lucan

Luke 1:78–79

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from sources originally in Hebrew such as Ben Sirach, the Eighteen Prayer, the Dead Sea Scrolls, and rabbinic texts. Even the pre-Philo Judaic traditions on ἀνατολή in Conf. 62–63 could originally have derived from the Palestinian motherland. The term ἀνατολή in Luke 1:78 in the original Hebrew of the Benedictus was ‫ ֶצ ַמח‬, here “sprout,” whose cognate verb is ‫ ָצ ַמח‬, to “sprout up.” The latter is already found in Ps 132:17 of the horn which God will cause to “sprout up” for David, His Anointed One / Messiah. The Hebrew hymn now located after Sir 51:12 dates from before 152 BCE and reflects this psalm verse regarding the house of David, i.e. the Messiah. Ezek 29:21 is similar and is interpreted in Judaic tradition of the Son of David / the Messiah. The fifteenth benediction of the Eighteen Prayer in the Babylonian recension also reflects this imagery of the “Sprout of David,” clearly meant as the Messiah. The definitely pre-Christian Dead Sea Scrolls also have four passages which deal with the Messiah as the “Sprout (of David),” the Messiah. Later rabbinic interpretation of Isa 4:2; Jer 23:5–6; 33:15; Ezek 29:21; Zech 3:8 and 6:12; and Ps 132:17 thus builds on much earlier interpretation and should not be automatically excluded from consideration because of the later dating of the present texts, something many NT scholars unfortunately do. Although Philo of Alexandria does not expressly label the Ἀνατολή the Messiah in the “oracle” of Conf. 62–63, he is certainly meant because of the attributions “son” and “firstborn,” and his participation in the primeval Creation. It is this figure whom the Father of all “caused to sprout up.” The NRSV does not have “sprout” in Luke 1:78, but “the dawn,” as a number of other translations have similar light imagery. Since the verb ṣmḥ in later Hebrew also means to “break forth,” “shine,” “grow (bright),” Judaic traditions on Esther as the “hind of the dawn” are also shown to be relevant here. At a time when all Jewry was threatened with total annihilation, God caused Mordecai and Esther to “sprout up” as the redeemers of Israel, which deliverance was a “miracle.” In this darkest hour they brought “light” (Est 8:16), and the joyful pre-Christian annual festival of Purim commemorated this redemptive event. Psalm 22, also applied to Jesus’ Crucifixion, was already the “Esther Psalm” in Judaic tradition. It was she as the “hind of the dawn” (v. 1, Eng. superscription) who “gave light to Israel like the light of dawn.” The Messiah is also considered the “great light” of Isa 9:1 (Eng. 2), and his light is noted in numerous rabbinic texts, just as in the NT. The Hebrew text of Isa 9:1 is also relevant to the imagery in the first part of Luke 1:79. The Palestinian Jewish Christian author of the Hebrew hymn behind the present Benedictus was probably aware of Judaic tradition regarding the gradual bilingualism.” They point to Antioch in Syria as a conceivable bilingual home for Luke (46– 47, 52–53, 513). On “has raised up a horn of salvation” (Luke 1:69) and “compassionate mercy” (v. 78) as being “non-Septuagintal Hebraisms,” see 201 and 203.

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redemption of Israel at the time of Esther and Mordecai, which culminated in the “light” of Est 8:16 and was compared with the gradual increase of light from pre-dawn (the planet Venus) to dawn and the full rising of the sun. This made the ṣmḥ and Esther as “hind of the dawn” imagery especially appropriate for the conclusion of the Benedictus in Luke 1:78–79. God has now “raised up” a horn of salvation in the house of His servant David (v. 69). The verb ἔγειρεν could also have originally been ַ ‫ ִה ְצ ִמי‬, “He caused to sprout,” as in early Judaic texts cited in section II. above with a horn for David. Verse 71 speaks of “salvation from ‘enemies’” and from “the hand of all who ‘hate’” (the Jews), a motif repeated for emphasis in v. 74, “rescued from the hand of ‘enemies.’” The author probably gained inspiration for such imagery from the threat of total annihilation of all Jews at the time of Esther and Mordecai by Haman (and others) who considered them to be “enemies” (for example Est 3:5–6, 8–9)213 and “hated” them.214 Purim was then inaugurated as an annual festival to commemorate the time when “the Jews gained relief from their ‘enemies’” (9:22). The gradual redemption of Israel in the Esther narrative reached its climax in the Jews finally having “light” (8:16). The Benedictus also culminates in Jesus Christ meant as the “dawn” who gives light to those who live in darkness and the shadow of death (Luke 1:78–79). In 2:1–38 the Evangelist Luke describes not only Jesus’ birth, but also his presentation in the Jerusalem Temple. There Simeon takes Jesus in his arms and praises God with the words, “my eyes have seen Your salvation ... a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to Your people Israel” (vv. 30, 32). Here the light of the Messiah is emphasized again. Directly after his circumcision and presentation in the Temple, the aged prophetess Anna also praises God and speaks of Jesus “to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem” (v. 38). Luke is then the only evangelist who includes the narrative of the twelve-year-old Jesus in the Temple, who maintains “I must be in my Father’s house” (v. 49).215 Only then does he proceed in chapter three with Jesus’ baptism by John, meant in the Benedictus in 1:76 as “the prophet of the Most High, who will go before the Lord [Jesus] to prepare his ways.” In contrast to Mark, whom he knew, the Third Evangelist thus sketches various early stages in the gradual redemption of Israel and the Gentiles, like the gradual growth of light from pre-dawn, to dawn, to the full light of the sun in Judaic tradition on the Esther narrative. Esther as the “hind of the dawn” was the redeemer of Israel 213

Cf. the use of ‫צר‬a (BDB 865) in 7:4 as “foe.” It is Haman in v. 6 whom Esther declares to be such, as well as an “enemy” (‫או ֺ ֵיב‬, BDB 33). On the latter term, see also 8:13; 9:5 and 16. 214 Cf. the term ‫( ָשׂנֵ א‬BDB 971) in 9:1, 5 and 16 (all together with “enemies”). 215 For Luke’s appropriation of this anecdote, also originally in Hebrew, cf. my study “The Child Jesus in the Temple (Luke 2:41–51a), and Judaic Traditions on the Child Samuel in the Temple (1 Samuel 1–3),” in Samuel, Saul and Jesus. Three Early Palestinian Jewish Christian Gospel Haggadoth (SFSHJ 105; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994) 1–64.

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in its darkest hour, bringing it light / salvation. Jesus as the Messiah at the end of the Benedictus is now for the Evangelist Luke and his hearers / readers the (final) redeemer of Israel, its “dawn from on high,” who brings light in the darkness to all those in need of it, leading them to salvation. Finally, a Palestinian Jewish Christian had described Jesus Christ in the Hebrew hymn which was the model for the present Benedictus as ṣemaḥ in what is now Luke 1:78. The pre-Lukan Greek translator correctly rendered this as ἀνατολή just as the LXX does five times. Especially important for him were the passages interpreted of the Messiah in Judaic tradition: Zech 3:9(8); 6:12; and Jer 23:5. Yet how should this Greek translation itself now be best rendered into, for example, English? The meaning of “Sprout” for ṣemaḥ in numerous messianic passages as analyzed in section II. above is hardly reflected in the noun ἀνατολή. Instead, the Greek term signifies primarily “rising,” like the “rising” of the sun.216 This is buttressed by the cognate verb ἀνατέλλω in the intransitive form: the sun “rises” or “springs up.”217 To this extent “Dayspring” is an appropriate English translation, as in the King James Version. “Dawning” as in the NRSV of Matt 4:16, dealing with Jesus, “for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned,” is also fitting, for the sun’s “rising” is also its “dawning.”218 This appears to be the main reason for the noun choice of the NRSV at Luke 1:78 : “the dawn from on high will break upon us.” Probably unknowingly, it also reflects Judaic tradition on Esther as the “hind of the ‘dawn,’” who “sprouted up” as one of the two redeemers of Israel when they faced total annihilation, yet finally achieved salvation and “light” (Est 8:16). The exact translation of ἀνατολή in Luke 1:78 into a modern language will always remain problematical. The above study has described the early Jewish messianic interpretation of the term, as well as the influence of Judaic tradition regarding the Esther narrative upon it. When these are both taken into consideration, the Kreuz or “burdensome” character of Luke 1:78–79 is for the most part removed. More importantly, one’s understanding of the present Lukan text of these two verses in Greek is greatly enhanced since the earlier Palestinian Jewish Christian Hebrew form of the Benedictus, most probably already translated before Luke by a Hellenistic Jewish Christian before he appropriated it, can be basically reconstructed at this point. We can be grateful that it still shines through, showing the great richness of its expression. In addition, this 216

Cf. again BAGD 62. Ibid. 218 Cf. LXX Isa 9:2(1) as behind this quotation, as well as 58:10 and Est A10 (l k), “light and the sun rose / dawned.” It should also be recalled that the verb ṣmḥ in post-biblical Hebrew can also mean to “break forth,” to “shine,” and to “grow (bright)” (Jastrow 1287). I thank Hans-Jürgen Becker and Peter von der Osten-Sacken for reading and commenting on this study, as well as those who participated in the discussion when I gave this as a paper at the 2019 Marburg meeting of the SNTS. 217

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study can encourage scholars who are still skeptical of the originally Semitic background of certain New Testament passages, thus only relying on the LXX, to at least consider this aspect, even if they themselves by training or inclination have no expertise in this area.

Scripture and Haggadah in the Fourth Gospel. Haggadic Strategy in John 10:34–36 Harold W. Attridge As thoughtful readers of the Fourth Gospel recognize, the Gospel uses an impressive array of literary tropes, motifs, and intertextual allusions to make its distinctive case for the vital importance of Jesus for all who want to relate to the divine. It does so as well with awareness of profound theological issues that were subjects of contemporary discussion. As part of its complex tapestry the gospel certainly uses Jewish scriptures, and the way it does so has been carefully traced with attention to a broad hermeneutical perspective1 and detailed focus on the texts explicitly cited2 or strongly evoked. The explicit citations or references, with notes to important focused studies, are:

1

Cornelius van der Vaal, “The Gospel according to John and the Old Testament,” Neot 6 (1972) 28–47; Günter Reim, Studien zum alttestamentlichen Hintergrund des Johannesevangeliums (SNTSMS 22; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1974); idem, Erweiterte Studien zum alttestamentlichen Hintergrund des Johannesevangeliums (Erlangen: Verlag der Ev.-Luth. Mission, 1995); Johannes Beutler, S.J., “Der Gebrauch von ‘Schrift’ im Johannesevangelium,” in idem, Studien zu den johanneischen Schriften (SBAB 25; Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1998) 295–315; Wolfgang Kraus, “Johannes und das Alte Testament: Überlegungen zum Umgang mit der Schrift im Johannesevangelium im Horizont Biblischer Theologie,” ZNW 88 (1997) 1–23; Anthony T. Hanson, “John’s Use of Scripture,” in Craig A. Evans and W. Richard Stegner, eds., The Gospels and the Scriptures of Israel (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1994) 358–379; D. Moody Smith offers a useful review of relevant literature in RSR 24,2 (April, 1998) 108–109; Andreas J. Köstenberger, “John,” in G. K. Beale and D. A. Carson, eds., Commentary on the New Testament Use of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007) 836–1023. 2 E. D. Freed, Old Testament Quotations in the Gospel of John (NovTSup 11; Leiden: Brill, 1965); Roger J. Humann, “The Function and Form of the Explicit Old Testament Quotations in the Gospel of John,” Lutheran Theological Review 1 (1988–89) 31–54; Bruce G. Schuchard, Scripture within Scripture: The Interrelationship of Form and Function in the Explicit Old Testament Citations in the Gospel of John (SBLDS 133; Atlanta: Scholars, 1992); Maarten J. J. Menken, Old Testament Quotations in the Fourth Gospel: Studies in Textual Form (CBET 15; Kampen: Kok Pharos, 1996).

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Exod 12:10 (or Ps 34:21) (John 19:36)3 Deut 17:6 (John 8:17)4 Ps 22:19 (John 19:24)5 Ps 35:19 (John 15:25)6 Ps 41:10 (John 13:18)7 Ps 69:4 (John 19:28)8 Ps 69:10 (John 2:17)9 Ps 78:24 (John 6:31)10 Ps 82:6 (John 10:34) Ps 118:25 (John 12:13)11 Isa 6:10 (John 12:40)12 Isa 40:3 (John 1:23)13 Isa 53:1 (John 12:38) Isa 54:13 (John 6:45)14

3 Maarten J. J. Menken, “The Old Testament Quotation in John 19,36: Sources, Redaction, Background,” in F. Van Segbroeck, et al., The Four Gospels 1992: FS Franz Neirynck (BEThL 100; Leuven: Leuven University: Peeters, 1992) 2101–2118. 4 Jean-Pierre Charlier, “L’exégese johannique d’un précepte legal: Jean VIII 17,” RB 67 (1960) 503–515. 5 Maarten J. J. Menken, “The Use of the Septuagint in Three Quotations in John: Jn 10,34; 12:38; 19:24,” in Christopher M. Tuckett, ed., The Scriptures in the Gospels (BEThL 131; Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters, 1997) 367–393. 6 Maarten J. J. Menken, “‘They Hated Me Without Reason’ (John 15:25),” in idem, Old Testament Quotations, 139–145. 7 Maarten J. J. Menken, “The Translation of Psalm 41:10 in John 13:18,” JSNT 40 (1990) 61–79; idem, “‘He Who Eats My Bread, Has Raised His Heel against Me’ (John 13:18),” in idem, Old Testament Quotations, 123–138; J. Ramsey Michaels, “Betrayal and the Betrayer: The Uses of Scripture in John 13:18–19,” in Evans and W. Stegner, The Gospels and the Scriptures of Israel, 459–474. 8 Wolfgang Kraus, “Die Vollendung der Schrift nach Joh 19,28: Überlegungen zum Umgang mit der Schrift im Johannesevangelium,” in Christopher M. Tuckett, ed., The Scriptures in the Gospels (BETL 131; Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters, 1997) 629–636. 9 Maarten J. J. Menken, “‘Zeal for Your House will Consume Me’ (John 2:17),” in Old Testament Quotations, 37–46; Margaret Daly-Denton, David in the Fourth Gospel: The Johannine Reception of the Psalms (AGJU 47; Leiden/Cologne/New York: Brill, 1999) 121– 131. 10 Diana Swancutt, “Hungers Assuaged by the Bread from Heaven: ‘Eating Jesus’ as Isaian Call to Belief: The Confluence of Isaiah 55 and Psalm 78(77) in John 6:22–71,” in Craig A. Evans and James A. Sanders, eds., Early Christian Interpretation of the Scriptures of Israel: Investigations and Proposals (JSNTSup, 148; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997) 218–251. 11 Andrew C. Brunson, Psalm 118 in the Gospel of John: An Intertextual Study on the New Exodus Pattern in the Theology of John (WUNT 2.158; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003). 12 Craig A. Evans, “The Function of Isaiah 6:9–10 in Mark and John,” NovT 24 (1982) 124–138. 13 Klyne R. Snodgrass, “Streams of Tradition Emerging from Isaiah 40:1–5 and their Adaptation in the New Testament,” JSNT 8 (1980) 24–45.

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Mic 5:1 (John 7:42)15 Zech 9:9 (John 12:15) Zech 12:10 (John 19:37).16

Thus the most prominent texts come from the Psalms,17 Isaiah18 and Zechariah.19 Beyond explicit citations, the Gospel uses abundant allusions and plays

14

Maarten J. J. Menken, “The Old Testament Quotation in John 6,45: Source and Redaction,” ETL 64 (1988) 164–172; Michael E. Theobald, “Schriftzitate im ‘Lebensbrot’-Dialog Jesu (Joh 6): Ein Paradigma für den Schriftgebrauch des vierten Evangelisten,” in Tuckett, ed., The Scriptures in the Gospels, 327–366. 15 Harold W. Attridge, “Some Methodological Considerations Regarding John, Jesus and History,” in James H. Charlesworth with Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski, eds., Jesus Research: The Gospel of John in Historical Inquiry (Jewish and Christian Texts in Context and Related Studies; London, New York, Oxford: T&T Clark, 2019) 71–84. 16 Rudolph Schnackenburg, “Das Schriftzitat in Joh 19,37,” in Josef Schreiner, ed., Wort, Lied und Gottesspruch: Beiträge zu Psalmen und Propheten: FS J. Ziegler (FzB 2; Würzburg: Echter, 1972) 239–247; Christopher M. Tuckett, “Zechariah 12:10 and the New Testament,” in Christopher Tuckett, ed., The Book of Zechariah and its Influence (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2003) 111–121; William Randolph Bynum, The Fourth Gospel and the Scriptures: Illuminating the Form and Meaning of Scriptural Citation in John 19:37 (NovTSup 144; Leiden: Boston: Brill, 2012). 17 Margaret Daly-Denton, David in the Fourth Gospel. 18 David R. Griffiths, “Deutero-Isaiah and the Fourth Gospel: Some Points of Comparison,” ExpT 65 (1954) 355–360; Franklin W. Young, “A Study of the Relation of Isaiah to the Fourth Gospel,” ZNW 46 (1955) 215–233; Paul Beauchamp, “Lecture et relectures du quatrième chant du Serviteur: d’Isaïe à Jean,” in Jacques Vermeylen, ed., The Book of Isaiah – Le Livre d’Isaïe (BEThL 81; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1989) 325–355; John Duncan M. Derrett, “Ecce Homo Ruber (John 19.5 with Isaiah 1:18; 63:1–2),” BeO 32 (1990) 215–229; Catrin H. Williams, “‘He saw His glory and spoke about Him’: The Testimony of Isaiah and Johannine Christology,” in Honouring the Past and Shaping the Future: Religious and Biblical Studies in Wales: Essays in Honour of Gareth Lloyd Jones (Leominster: Gracewing, 2003) 53–80; eadem, “Isaiah in John’s Gospel,” in Steve Moyise and Maarten J. J. Menken, eds., Isaiah in the New Testament (London, New York: T&T Clark International, 2005) 101–116; eadem, “The Testimony of Isaiah and Johannine Christology,” in Claire Matthews McGinnis and Patricia K. Tull, eds., ‘As Those Who Are Taught’: The Interpretation of Isaiah from the LXX to the SBL (SBLSS 27; Atlanta; SBL, 2006) 107–124; eadem, “Johannine Christology and Prophetic Traditions: The Case of Isaiah,” in Benjamin E. Reynolds and Gabriele Boccacini, eds., Reading the Gospel of John’s Christology as Early Jewish Messianism: Royal, Prophetic and Divine Messiahs (Leiden: Brill, 2018) 92–123; James M. Hamilton, “The Influence of Isaiah on the Gospel of John,” Perichoresis 5 (2007) 139–162; Kai Akagai, “The Light from Galilee: The Narrative Function of Isaiah 8:23–9:6 in John 8:12,” NovT 58 (2016) 380–393; Andreas Köstenberger, “John’s Appropriation of Isaiah’s Signs Theology: Implications for the Structure of John’s Gospel,” Themelios 43 (2018) 376– 387. 19 Adam Kubiś, The Book of Zechariah in the Gospel of John (Pendé, France: Gabalda, 2012).

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on biblical motifs. Critics have detected echoes to Genesis,20 Exodus,21 Deuteronomy,22 Numbers,23 the prophets in general,24 to Jeremiah25 and Ezekiel,26

20

Edwin C. Hoskyns, “Genesis I–III and St. John’s Gospel,” JTS 21 (1919) 210–218; Annie Jaubert, “La symbolique de puits de Jacob Jean 4,12,” L’Homme devant Dieu. Mélanges offerts au Père Henri de Lubac (Theologie 56–58; 3 vols.; Paris: Aubier, 1963) 1.70–71; W. R. Hambly, “Creation and Gospel: A Brief Comparison of Genesis 1,1–2,4 and John 1,1– 2,12,” StEv 5 (1968) 69–74; Norman R. Bonneau, “The Woman at the Well, John 4 and Genesis 24,” BiTo 67 (1973) 1252–1259; E. G. Clark, “Jacob’s Dream at Bethel as Interpreted in the Targums and the New Testament,” Studies in Religion 4 (1974–75) 367–377; Jerome H. Neyrey, S.J., “Jacob Allusions in John 1:51,” CBQ 44 (1982) 586–605; William J. Kurz, S.J., “Intertextual Permutations of the Genesis Word in the Johannine Prologues,” in Craig A. Evans and James A. Sanders, eds., Early Christian Interpretation of the Scriptures of Israel 179–190; Elaine Pagels, “Exegesis of Genesis 1 in the Gospels of Thomas and John,” JBL 118 (1999) 477–496; John Painter, “Earth Made Whole: John’s Rereading of Genesis,” in idem, R. Alan Culpepper, and Fernando F. Segovia, eds., Word, Theology and Community in John (St. Louis, MO: Chalice, 2002) 65–84; idem, “Rereading Genesis in the Prologue of John,” in David E. Aune, Torrey Seland, and Jarl Henning Ulrichsen, Neotestamentica et Philonica: Studies in Honor of Peder Borgen (NovT Sup 106; Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2003) 179–201; George H. van Kooten, “The ‘True Light Which Enlightens Everyone’ (John 1:9): John, Genesis, The Platonic Notion of the ‘True, Noetic Light’, and the Allegory of the Cave in Plato’s Republic,” in idem, ed., The Creation of Heaven and Earth: Reinterpretations of Genesis in the Context of Judaism, Ancient Philosophy, Christianity, and Modern Physics (Leiden: Brill, 2005) 149–194; Gregory E. Sterling, “‘Day One’: Platonizing Exegetical Traditions of Genesis 1:1–5 in John and Jewish Authors,” SPhA 17 (2005) 118– 140; Maarten J. J. Menken and Steve Moyise, Genesis in the New Testament (LNTS 466; London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2012). 21 Jacob J. Enz, “The Book of Exodus as a Literary Type for the Gospel of John,” JBL 76 (1957) 208–215; Robert Houston Smith, “Exodus Typology in the Fourth Gospel,” JBL 81 (1962) 329–342; Anthony Tyrrell Hanson, “John i.14–18 and Exodus xxxiv,” NTS 23 (1976– 1977) 90–101, repr. in idem, The New Testament Interpretation of Scripture (London: SPCK, 1980) 97–109; Henry Mowvley, “John 1:14–18 in the Light of Exodus 33:7–34:35,” ExpT 95 (1984) 135–137; Stanley E. Porter, “Exodus 12 and the Passover Theme in John,” in idem, Sacred Tradition in the New Testament: Tracing Old Testament Themes in the Gospels and Epistles (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2016) 127–151. 22 Aelred Lacamara, “Deuteronomy and the Farewell Discourse (Jn 13:31–16:33),” CBQ 36 (1974) 65–84. 23 John Duncan M. Derrett, “Lazarus, the Body, and Water (John 11,44; Isaiah 58,11; Numbers 20,9–11),” BeO 39 (1997) 169–182. 24 Anthony Tyrrell Hanson, The Prophetic Gospel: A Study of John and the Old Testament (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1991); Paul Miller, “‘They Saw His Glory and Spoke of Him’: The Gospel of John and the Old Testament,” in Stanley E. Porter, ed., Hearing the Old Testament in the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2006) 127–151. 25 Ross E. Winkle, “The Jeremiah Model for Jesus in the Temple,” AUSS 24 (1986) 155– 172; Sean Goan, “Jeremiah 31 (LXX 38) and the Gospel of John,” Proceedings of the Irish Biblical Association 39 (2016) 17–29.

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Daniel,27 to the Song of Songs,28 and to sapiential literature.29 Scholars have also highlighted the motifs and images derived from the descriptions of sacred Jewish time30 and space,31 and have explored exegetical argumentative 26 Bruce Vawter, “Ezekiel and John,” CBQ 26 (1964) 450–458; Gary T. Manning, Echoes of a Prophet: The Use of Ezekiel in the Gospel of John and in Literature of the Second Temple Period (JSNTSup 270; London: T&T Clark, 2004). 27 Mary R. Huie-Joly, “Threats Answered by Enthronement: Death/Resurrection and the Divine Warrior Myth in John 5:17–29, Psalm 2 and Daniel 7,” in Evans and Sanders, Early Christian Interpretation, 190–217; Stefanios Mihailios, The Danielic Eschatological Hour in the Johannine Literature (LNTS 436; London, New York: T&T Clark, 2011). 28 Ann Roberts Winsor, A King is Bound in the Tresses: Allusions to the Song of Songs in the Fourth Gospel (Studies in Biblical Literature; New York: Peter Lang, 1999). 29 Richard J. Dillon, “Wisdom Tradition and Sacramental Retrospect in the Cana Account (Jn 2:1–11),” CBQ 24 (1962) 268–296; Henry R. Moeller, “Wisdom Motifs and John’s Gospel,” BETS 6 (1963) 92–100; Martin Scott, Sophia and the Johannine Jesus (JSNTS 71; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1992); Michael E. Willet, Wisdom Christology in the Fourth Gospel (San Francisco, CA: Mellon Research University Press, 1995); Maryanne Meye Thompson, “Thinking about God: Wisdom and Theology in John 6,” in R. Alan Culpepper, ed., Critical Readings of John 6 (BIS 22; Leiden/New York/Cologne: Brill, 1997) 221–246; Andrew Glicksman, “Beyond Sophia: The Sapiential Portrayal of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel and its Ethical Implications for the Johannine Community,” in Jan G. van der Watt and Ruben Zimmermann, eds., Rethinking the Ethics of John: “Implicit Ethics” in the Johannine Writings: Kontexte und Normen neutestamentlicher Ethik (Contexts and Norms of New Testament Ethics 3; WUNT 2.291; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012) 83–101. 30 Gale A. Yee, Jewish Feasts and the Gospel of John (Wilmington: Glazier, 1989); Michael A. Daise, Feasts in John: Jewish Festivals and Jesus’ “Hour” in the Fourth Gospel (WUNT 2.229; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007); idem, “Jesus and the Jewish Festivals: Methodological Reflections,” in James H. Charlesworth and Brian Rhea, eds., Jesus Research: New Methodologies and Perspectives, the Second Princeton-Prague Symposium 2007 (Princeton Prague Symposia Series on the Historical Jesus 2; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2014) 283–304; Maarten J. J. Menken, “Jewish Feasts in the Gospel of John,” in idem, Studies in John’s Gospel and Epistles: Collected Essays (Contributions to Biblical Exegesis and Theology 77; Leuven: Peeters, 2013) 187–207. 31 Anthony Tyrrell Hanson, “The Theme of Christ as the True Temple in the Fourth Gospel,” in idem, The New Testament Interpretation of Scripture 110–121; Ivor Buse, “Die Tempelmetaphorik als ein Beispiel von implizitem Rekurs auf die biblische Tradition im Johannesevangelium,” in Christopher M. Tuckett, ed., The Scriptures in the Gospels (BEThL 131; Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters, 1997) 395–428; Johannes Frühwald-König, Tempel und Kult: Ein Beitrag zur Christologie des Johannesevangeliums (BU 27; Regensburg: Pustet, 1998); Johanna Rahner, “Er aber sprach vom Tempel seines Leibes”: Jesus von Nazaret als Ort der Offenbarung Gottes im vierten Evangelium (BBB 117; Bodenheim: Philo, 1998); Mary Coloe, God Dwells with us: Temple Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 2001); eadem, “Anointing the Temple of God: John 12:1–8,” in R. M. Chennattu and M. L Coloe, eds., Transcending Boundaries: Contemporary Readings of the New Testament in Honour of Professor Francis Moloney, S.D.B. (Rome: LAS Publications, 2005) 158–175; Alan Kerr, Temple of Jesus' Body: the Temple Theme in the Gospel of John (London/New York: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002); Jarl Henning Ulrichsen, “Jesus –

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techniques,32 such as gezera shawa,33 as well as the ways in which scriptural elements grounded Christology,34 developed characterization,35 and shaped the narrative.36 Scholars have often been sensitive not only to the evangelist’s use of the sacred scriptures of Israel but also to their reflection on the texts in later Jewish literature, the pesharim of Qumran,37 targumim,38 with their invocation of der neue Tempel? Ein kritischer Blick auf die Auslegung von Joh 2,13–22,” in Aune, et al., Neotestamentica et Philonica, 202–214; Paul M. Hoskins, Jesus as the Fulfillment of the Temple in the Gospel of John (Paternoster Biblical Monographs; Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster, 2006); Sandra Schneiders, “Raising the New Temple: John 20.19–23 and Johannine Ecclesiology,” NTS 52 (2006) 337–355; Stephen T. Um, The Theme of Temple Christology in John’s Gospel (LNTS 312; London, New York: T&T Clark, 2006); Harold W. Attridge, “Temple, Tabernacle, Time, and Space in John and Hebrews,” Early Christianity 1 (2010) 261–274; Jacob Chanikuzhy, Jesus, the Eschatological Temple: An Exegetical Study of Jn 2,13–22 in the Light of the Pre–70 C.E.: Eschatological Temple Hopes and the Synoptic Temple Action (CBET 58; Leuven, Walpole, MA: Peeters, 2012); Bruce G. Schuchard, “Temple, Festivals, and Scripture in the Gospel of John,” in Judith M. Lieu and Martinus C. De Boer, eds., The Oxford Handbook of Johannine Studies (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018) 381–395. 32 Georg Richter, “Die alttestamentlichen Zitate in der Rede vom Himmelbrot 6,26–51a,” in idem, Studien zum Johannesevangelium, ed. J. Hainz (BU 13; Regensburg: Pustet, 1977) 199–265; Martin Hengel, “Die Schriftauslegung des 4. Evangeliums auf dem Hintergrund der urchristlichen Exegese,” JBTh 4 (1989) 249–388; Bruce G. Schuchard, Scripture within Scripture; Christian Dietzfelbinger, “Aspekte des Alten Testaments im Johannesevangelium,” in Hubert Cancik, Hermann Lichtenberger, and Peter Schäfer, eds., Geschichte–Tradition– Reflexion: Festschrift für Martin Hengel zum 70. Geburtstag (3 vols.; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996) 3.203–218. 33 Jocelyn McWhirther, “Messianic Exegesis in the Fourth Gospel,” in Reynolds and Boccacini, eds., Reading the Gospel of John’s Christology 124–148. 34 Andreas Obermann, Die christologische Erfüllung der Schrift im Johannesevangelium: eine Untersuchung zur johanneischen Hermeneutik anhand der Schriftzitate (WUNT 2.83; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996); Knut Backhaus, “‘Before Abraham was, I am’: the Book of Genesis and the Genesis of Christology,” in Nathan MacDonald, M. W. Elliott, and G. Macaskill, eds., Genesis and Christian Theology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012) 74–84. 35 Alicia D. Myers, Characterizing Jesus: A Rhetorical Analysis on the Fourth Gospel’s Use of Scripture in its Presentation of Jesus (London: T&T Clark, 2012). 36 Judith Lieu, “Narrative Analysis and Scripture in John,” in Steve Moyise, ed., The Old Testament in the New Testament, FS J. L. North (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 2000) 144– 163. 37 Stephen E. Witmer, “Approaches to Scripture in the Fourth Gospel and the Qumran Pesharim,” NovT 48 (2006) 313–328; James H. Charlesworth, John and the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Crossroad, 1990); idem, “A Study in Shared Symbolism and Language: The Qumran Community and the Johannine Community,” in idem, ed., The Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Vol. 3: The Scrolls and Christian Origins: The Second Princeton Symposium on Judaism and Christian Origins (Waco, TX: Baylor University, 2006) 97–152. 38 Marie-Èmile Boismard, “Les citations targumiques dans le Quatrième Évangile,” RB 66 (1959) 374–378; Domingo Muñoz-León, Dios Palabra: Memra en los Targumim del Penta-

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the divine Memra,39 echoed especially in the prologue40 but also in other parts of the Gospel,41 and midrashim, which offer an array of scriptural interpretations.42 A feature of the use of scripture in many of these sources is the way in which they expand and interpret the scriptural account with narrative elements, what we generally mean by haggadah. These expansions introduce another lens through which to view the connection of the Fourth Gospel and Jewish literary tradition. Jewish haggadah based on the biblical texts has been explicitly invoked as the background for elements of various Johannine episodes, the wedding at Cana,43 the saying about Moses lifting the serpent,44 the teuco (Granada: Santa Rita-Monachil, 1974); François-Marie Braun, “Le sacrifice d’Isaac dans le quatrième évangile d’après le Targum,” NRTh 101 (1979) 481–497; Frédéric Manns, L’Évangile de Jean à la lumière du Judaïsme (SBFA 33; Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press, 1991); Günter Reim, “Targum und Johannesevangelium,” BZ n. s. 27 (1983) 1–13. 39 Charles T. R. Hayward, “The Memra of YHWH and the Development of Its Use in Targum Neofiti,” JJS 25 (1974) 16–32; Bruce Chilton, “Typologies of Memra and the Fourth Gospel,” Targum Studies 1 (1992) 89–100. 40 Martin McNamara, “Logos of the Fourth Gospel and Memra of the Palestinian Targum (Ex 12.42),” ExpT 79 (1967–1968) 115–137; Peder Borgen, “Observations on the Targumic Character of the Prologue of John,” NTS 16 (1969–70) 288–295; Daniel Boyarin, “The Gospel of the Memra: Jewish Binitarianism and the Prologue of John,” HTR 94 (2001) 243–284; John L. Ronning, The Jewish Targums and John’s Logos Theology (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2010); Pieter de Vries, “The Targumim as Background to the Prologue of the Gospel According to John,” Journal of Biblical Theology 1 (2018) 97–122. 41 Bruce Malina, The Palestinian Manna Tradition: The Manna Tradition in the Palestinian Targums and Its Relationship to the New Testament Writings (AGJU 7; Leiden: Brill, 1968); A. M. Serra, “Le tradizioni della teofania sinaitica nel Targum dello pseudo-Jonathan Es 19,24 e in Giov 1,19–2,12,” Mar 33 (1971) 1–39; Domingo Muñoz-León, “El sustrato targumico del Discurso del Pan de Vida: Nuevas aportaciones: La equivalencia ‘venir’ = ‘aprender/creer’ (Jn 6,35. 37. 45) y la conexión ‘vida eterna’ y ‘resurrección’ (Jn 6,40. 54),” EstBib 36 (1977) 217–226; Bruce Chilton, “John XII 34 and Targum Isaiah LII 13,” NovT 22 (1980) 176–178; Frédéric Manns, “Traditions targumiques en Jean 2,1–11,” Mar 45 (1983) 297–305; idem, “Traditions targumiques en Jean 10,1–30,” RevSR 60 (1986) 135–157; Christopher Rowland, “John 1,51: Jewish Apocalyptic and Targumic Tradition,” NTS 30 (1984) 498–507; Jarl Fossum, “The Son of Man’s Alter Ego: John 1.51, Targumic Tradition and Jewish Mysticism,” in idem, The Image of the Invisible God: Essays on the Influence of Jewish Mysticism on Early Christianity (NTOA 30; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1995) 135–151; Craig Morrison, “The ‘Hour of Distress’ in Targum Neofiti and the ‘Hour’ in the Gospel of John,” CBQ 67 (2005) 590–603. 42 Fundamental is Peder Borgen, Bread from Heaven: An Exegetical Study of the Concept of Manna in the Gospel of John and the Writings of Philo (NovTSup 10; Leiden: Brill, 1965). More recently see Paul Anderson, The Christology of the Fourth Gospel: Its Unity and Disunity in the Light of John 6 (WUNT 2.78; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1996; Valley Forge: Trinity Press International, 1997; Eugene, OR: Cascade, 20103). 43 Roger Aus, “The Wedding Feast at Cana (John 2:1–11), and Ahasuerus’ Wedding Feast in Judaic Traditions on Esther 1,” in idem, Water into Wine and the Beheading of John the

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encounter with the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well,45 allusions to the desert generation in the feeding story,46 the interpolated story of the adulteress,47 the image of the Good Shepherd,48 the reference to Abraham’s vision,49 and the passion account.50 That the evangelist is familiar not only with traditional Jewish texts, but also with the ways in which they have been expanded and shaped is clear. Baptist: Early Jewish-Christian Interpretation of Esther 1 in John 2:1–11 and Mark 6:17–29 (BJS 150; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988) 1–37. 44 Jörg Frey, “‘Wie Mose die Schlange in der Wüste erhöht hat . . .’ Zur frühjüdischen Deutung der ‘ehernen Schlange’ und ihrer christologischen Rezeption in Joh 3,14f.,” in Martin Hengel and Helmut Löhr, eds., Schriftauslegung: im Frühjudentum und im Urchristentum (WUNT 73; Tübingen: Mohr, 1994) 153–205. 45 Donatien Mollatt, “Les puits de Jacob (Jn 4:1–42),” BVC 6 (1954) 81–91; Jerome Neyrey, S.J., “Jacob Traditions and the Interpretation of John 4:10–26,” CBQ 41 (1979) 419– 437; Roger Aus, “Another Very Early Example in the Gospels of Haggadic Interpretation of Jacob's Well: John 4:1–42,” in idem, The Death, Burial, and Resurrection of Jesus, and the Death, Burial, and Translation of Moses in Judaic Tradition (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 2008) 198–207; Hans Förster, “Die Begegnung am Brunnen (John 4,4–42) im Licht der ‘Schrift’: Überlegungen zu den Samaritanern im Johannesevangelium,“ NTS 61 (2015) 201–208. 46 Roger Le Déaut, “Une aggadah et les 'murmures' de Jean 6,” Bib 51 (1970) 80–83; Roger Aus, “Walking on the Sea. The Crossing of the Reed Sea in Exodus 14–15, and Jesus as Second Moses and Messiah in Mark 6:45–52, Matt 14:22–33, and John 6:16–21,” in “Caught in the Act,” Walking on the Sea, and the Release of Barabbas Revisited (SFSHJ 157; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998) 51–133; idem, “Baal-shalishah, Shalishah, and John 6,” in idem, Feeding the Five Thousand: Studies in the Judaic Background of Mark 6:30–44 par. and John 6:1–15 (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD; University Press of America, 2010) 47–67 and 133–135. 47 Roger Aus, “‘Caught in the Act’ – With Whom, and By Whom? The Judaic Background of the Incident of the Adulteress in John 7:53—8:11,” in idem, “Caught in the Act” 1–48. On this passage and its complex history of interpretation see now Jennifer Knust and Tommy Wasserman, To Cast the First Stone: The Transmission of a Gospel Story (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2019). 48 John Duncan M. Derrett, “The Good Shepherd: St. John’s Use of Jewish Halakah and Haggadah,” ST 27 (1973) 25–50. 49 Roger Aus, “Abraham’s Prophetic Vision of the Messiah: The Judaic Background of John 8:56–58,” in idem, My Name Is “Legion.” Palestinian Judaic Traditions in Mark 5:1– 20 and Other Gospel Texts (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 2003) 253–287. 50 Roger Aus, “Jesus’ Tunic Without a Seam, Woven in One Piece from the Top (John 19:23),” in idem, The Wicked Tenants and Gethsemane: Isaiah in the Wicked Tenants’ Vineyard, and Moses and the High Priest in Gethsemane: Judaic Traditions in Mark 12:1–9 and 14:32–42 (University of South Florida International Studies in Formative Christianity and Judaism, 4; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1996) 130–133; idem, “John 19:28–30 and the Significance of Hyssop,” in idem, Essays in the Judaic Background of Mark 11:12–14, 20–21; 15:23; Luke 1:37; John 19:28–30; and Acts 11:28 (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 2015) 117–166.

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I. Jesus Uses a Psalm This paper focuses on how one passage of the Gospel works using conventions that are most at home in the world of Jewish haggadah. The passage appears in the account of Jesus in Jerusalem at Hanukkah, in the midst of a contentious exchange between Jesus and the locals in Jerusalem after he has told them the parable of the Good Shepherd. The crowd asks Jesus to tell them plainly if he is the Messiah (John 10:24). Jesus responds that his “works” testify on his behalf. If the crowd cannot understand them, they are not part of his flock (vv. 25–26). After commenting on what the Father has given him, Jesus claims that he and the Father are one (v. 30), to which the crowd responds by picking up stones. Jesus asks why, and they respond that he is “making himself God” (v. 33). The dialogue continues: 34) Jesus answered them, “Isn’t it written in your Law, ‘I said, You are gods.’ 35) If it calls those to whom the word of God came ‘gods’ and the scripture cannot be broken, 36) why do you say of the one whom the Father sanctified and sent into the world, ‘You are committing blasphemy,’ because I said, ‘I am God’s son’? 37) If I am not doing my Father’s deeds, do not believe in me. 38) But if I am doing them, even if you do not believe me, believe in my deeds, so that you may come to know and recognize that the Father is in me and I am in the Father.” 39) So they were again seeking to seize him, and he went out of their grasp.

Jesus responds to the charge of blasphemy or “making himself God” (v. 33) by invoking (v. 34) Ps 82:6, characterized as part of the “Law,” which here refers not simply to the Torah but to the whole of sacred scripture.51 He goes on to make an argument on the basis of the citation, the force of which has been variously assessed. The argument seems to be a simple case of a minore ad maius or qal waḥomer reasoning. If the term “God” was applied to beings who hardly deserved such an honorific title, the chosen and sanctified one sent by God deserves to be called God. This argument, however, seems to suggest that Jesus is simply a worthy human prophet or Messiah, “sanctified” and “sent” by God like so many predecessors, but not one who is one with the Father (10:30), who was in the Father’s bosom in the beginning (1:1), who laid claim to the divine name before Abraham existed (8:58), and who now dwells in the Father as the Father does in him (v. 38). Some have dealt with the discrepancy between the argument and the gospel’s general view of Jesus by suggesting that the argument in these verses is either an interpolation or an ironic parody of a rabbinic argument.52 Others have suggested that what is involved in the exchange involves more than a simplistic citation of a proof

51

A similar reference to the Law introduces the citation of Ps 35:19 at John 15:25. Rudolf Bultmann, The Gospel of John (Philadelphia: Westminster; Oxford: Blackwell, 1971) 389. 52

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text.53 The observations of such scholars deserve further exploration and refinement.

II. The Psalm and its Difficulties It is worth recalling the whole context from which the Psalm citation derives. This psalm of Asaph depicts a conversation in the heavenly court between Yahweh and his courtiers. The opening verse sets the scene: “God (‫)אלוהים‬ has taken his place in the divine council (‫ ;)בעדת אל‬in the midst of the gods (‫ )אלוהים‬he holds judgment.” The psalmist works with the traditional mythology, wherein the inhabitants of heaven were all ‫ אלוהים‬or ‫בני אלוהים‬, “gods” or “sons (or members of the category) of gods.” God castigates these courtiers for defending the unjust (v. 2): “How long will you judge unjustly and show partiality to the wicked?” He commands them instead to do what is right: “Give justice to the weak and the orphan, maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute; rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked” (vv. 3–4). Another voice, perhaps of the psalmist, or perhaps of the character of God in an aside, insults the courtiers: “They (scil. the ‘gods’ in the divine council) have neither knowledge nor understanding, they walk around in darkness; all the foundations of the earth are shaken” (v. 5). God then challenges them and predicts their downfall: “I say, ‘You are gods, children of the Most High, all of you; nevertheless, you shall die like mortals and fall like any prince’” (vv. 6–7a). What seems to be another voice, presumably that of the Psalmist, chimes in with a stirring cry, “Rise up, O God, judge the earth; for all the nations belong to you!” (v. 7b). The construal of the Psalm offered here is based on a modern assessment of the history of ancient Israel’s religious beliefs and the ways in which the ancient environment shaped the poetic imagery of the Psalms. Rabbinic readers adopted a different way of contextualizing what could have been a problematic verse. Who, after all, would have deserved the title of “God” other than the Holy One, Blessed be He?54 The way of solving that problem in53

Richard Jungkuntz, “An Approach to the Exegesis of John 10:34–36,” CTM 35 (1964) 556–565; James S. Ackermann, “The Rabbinic Interpretation of Psalm 82 and the Gospel of John: John 10:34,” HTR 59 (1966) 186–191; Anthony T. Hanson, “John’s Citation of Psalm LXXXII. John X.33–6,” NTS 11 (1965–66) 158–162; idem, “John’s Citation of Psalm LXXXII Reconsidered,” NTS 13 (1966–67) 363–367. 54 Other texts could be equally problematic and elicited various responses. Philo, probably with Exod 7:1 in mind, also knows that men can be called “gods” in relationship to other men. His explanation is that such a person is “possessed by love of the divine and worshipped the Self-existent only” (Prob. 43), and he notes that Moses is appointed as a “god” to Pharaoh in Exod 7:1 (Sac. 9; Mos. 1.158), symbolizing the rule of mind over passion. “God” is also used of a human being at Exod 4:16, where Aaron is appointed as the prophet speaking for

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volved an important haggadic technique, telling a story that provided a setting for the problematic verse that rendered it intelligible and potentially useful for making a homiletic point. At least two settings are attested in rabbinic applications of the Psalm. One simply posits that God is addressing human judges. This reading appears in Midr. Pss. 82.1, a largely haggadic work of uncertain final date, compiling material from the Tannaitic and Amoraic periods, up to the 13th century. The midrash interprets Ps 82:1: Hence the verse “He is a Judge among Elohim” is to be read He is a Judge among judges. What can “Elohim” signify except “judges,” as in the verse “The cause of both shall come before the judges (’Elohim)” (Ex. 22:8). 55

The reading appeals to Exod 22:8–9 that litigants are to be brought before “God” (‫ )אלוהים‬to settle disputes, which may originally refer to deciding issues by appeal to an oracle. Here there is no appeal to a narrative setting, simply a philological note about the meaning of the word Elohim explained by appeal to another verse. The midrash disposes of the problematic address to the members of the council as “gods” by appeal to the story of Adam, whom the Psalm itself mentions (v. 7). Though I said: Ye are godlike beings (‫)אלוהים‬, and all of you are sons of the Most High (Ps. 82:6), yet the one and only precept I gave Adam, he did not abide by. So I drove him out of the Garden of Eden, and I imposed the decree of death upon him.56

A similar reading of the Psalm appears in the Talmud at b. Sanh. 6b. The whole section of the treatise deals with how proper judgment is to be made and what is the role of mediation in the process. The verse is not given a specific narrative context but simply assigned to the context in which those who exercise judgment work: “And Judges should know whom they are judging, and before Whom they are judging, and who will ultimately exact payment from them. As it is stated Ps 82:1: ‘God stands in the congregation of

Moses, who will “serve as God to him.” The NRSV softens the expression in these verses, translating the expressions as similies. Jewish tradition also wrestles with these verses. The Targums translate “God” in Exod 7:1 as “leader” (Onqelos) or “ruler” (Neofiti 1) or introduce a comparative (Pseudo-Jonathan). Some midrashim introduce the verses from Exodus in their explanation of Ps 82:6. So Tanḥuma B Qedoshim 5 on Lev 19:2 (Buber 74; Eng. Townsend 304) and Midr. Pss. 21.2 (Buber 178; Eng. Braude 1.294). Our evangelist avoids mention of the Exodus texts, perhaps to avoid an equivalence between Jesus and Moses, although passages such as these may have influenced some early Christians in the development of language celebrating their estimation of Jesus. For a contemporary version of the concern with the use of the term “god” in some biblical passages, see Stephen L. Homcy, “‘You Are Gods’? Spirituality and a Difficult Text,” JETS 32 (1989) 485–491. 55 Buber 368; Eng. in William G. Braude, The Midrash on Psalms 2.59. 56 82.3, in Buber 369, Braude, The Midrash on Psalms, 2.60.

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God.’”57 Like the Midrash on Psalms this application offers no detailed explanation of the reference to the members of the assembly as “gods.” The second type of reading of the Psalm provides both a specific narrative setting and a rationale for the address. A straightforward version of this haggadic reading appears in Exodus Rabba 32,7, commenting on Exod 32:20 and the declaration by God that he would “send an angel” before the people of Israel to bring them to the promised land. The midrash offers various reflections on that verse, adducing other scriptural passages: Another explanation of “Behold I send an angel.” It is written, “I said: ye are godlike beings (‫)אלוהים‬, and all of you sons of the Most High.” When Israel stood at Sinai and received the Torah, the Holy One, blessed be He, said to the Angel of Death, "Thou hast power over all the heathen but not over this people, for they are my portion, and just as I live forever, so will my children be eternal, as it says, “When the Most High gave to the nations their inheritance . . . for the portion of the Lord is his people, Jacob the lot of his inheritance” (Deut 32:8–9).58

The context of the address is “when Israel stood at Sinai and received the Torah.” The significance of labelling the people “gods” is that God has prohibited the Angel of Death from having power over them. That prohibition, alas, did not last, since the people disobeyed and worshipped the golden calf.59 The same explanatory framework for Ps 82:6 is reflected in the Talmud at b. ‘Avod. Zar. 5a, where, as is so often the case, a solution creates new problems. The dialogue begins with a citation: “Said Resh Lakish: Come let us render gratitude to our forebears, for had they not sinned, we should not have come to the world, as it is said: ‘I said ye are gods and all of you sons of the Most High; now that you have spoilt your deeds, ye shall indeed die like mortals,’ etc.” To that an anonymous voice queries, “Are we to understand that if the Israelites had not committed that sin they would not have propagated?”60 The discussion continues for some time exploring whether the verse truly implied the immortality, even if temporary, of the people at Sinai.61 The 57

My translation; cf. Soncino 24. Mirkin 6.84. Cf. the translation by Ackermann, “The Rabbinic Interpretation of Psalm 82,” 186–187. See also Soncino 3.411. 59 Worship of the golden calf is also invoked as an explanation for the limitation of the Godlike state in Sipre Ha’azinu 320 on Deut 32:20 (Finkelstein 366; Hammer 329). In a midrash in Sipre Ha’azinu 306 (Finkelstein 341; Hammer 307) the divinity of the Israelites is explained through a reflection on the body and the soul: “Therefore, if man lives by the Torah and performs the will of his Father in heaven, he is like the heavenly creatures, as it is said,” and Ps 82:6 is cited. 60 Cf. Soncino 19. 61 A baraitha, a Tannaitic tradition not found in the Mishnah, then quotes the comment of R. Yose (b. Ḥalafta), a third generation Tanna, on Ps 82:6. On him, cf. Hermann Strack and Günter Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992) 58

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details of the setting did not need be specified; the haggadic setting is simply assumed. Other, more allegorical options are explored, including various metaphorical senses of being liberated from death. The complex rabbinic debate need not concern us here. The passage confirms that, at the latest by the time of the Bavli, the haggadic setting of the verse of the Psalm represented in Exodus Rabba could be assumed and could serve as the basis of further reflection and debate.

III. The Psalm in the Gospel Again John 10:34 does not offer a detailed haggadic setting for the citation of Ps 82:6. Yet one phrase strongly suggests that the setting is indeed assumed and that more might be at work than a simple proof texting or ironic imitation of an exegetical argument. In highlighting the significance of the addressees as “gods,” Jesus identifies them as “those to whom the word of God came (πρὸς οὓς ὁ λόγος τοῦ θεοῦ ἐγένετο),”62 an appropriate way of describing the delivery of the Torah to the people of Israel at Sinai. The phrase also echoes the Prologue’s description of the Logos who “came to his own” (εἰς τὰ ἴδια ἦλθεν, 1:11). That echo, part of the gospel’s play on the relationship of Jesus and Moses announced at John 1:1:17,63 suggests that the confrontation between

84. A parallel is found in Mek. R. Ish. Baḥodesh 9 on Exod 20:19 (Lauterbach 2.272). Other Tannaitic comment on Ps 82:6 is found, for example, in Sipre Ha’azinu 306 on Deut 32:2 (Finkelstein 341; Eng. Hammer 307) and Lev. Rab. Vayyikra 1 on Lev 4:2 (Mirkin 7.43; Soncino 4.47–48). The latter is spoken by R. Joshua (b. Ḥananyah), a second generation Tanna (Strack and Stemberger, Introduction 77). These passages also thus show very early rabbinic haggadic interpretation of Ps 82:6. I am grateful to Roger Aus for pointing out these references. 62 The relative clause, “those ... came” is lacking in P45 and Cyprian. The omission is probably a simple mechanical mistake, although it is possible that a scribe resisted the kind of haggadic reading of the Psalm to which the phrase points. 63 On Moses in Johannine Christology, see T. Francis Glasson, Moses in the Fourth Gospel (SBT 40; London: SCM, 1963); Wayne A. Meeks, The Prophet-King: Moses Traditions and the Johannine Christology (NovTSup 14; Leiden: Brill, 1967); Severino Pancaro, The Law in the Fourth Gospel: The Torah and the Gospel, Moses and Jesus, Judaism and Christianity according to John (NovTSup 42; Leiden: Brill, 1975) 16–32; Marc-Èmile Boismard, Moïse ou Jésus: Essai de christologie johannique (BEThL 84; Leuven: Peeters, 1988), Eng. Trans. Moses or Jesus: An Essay in Johannine Christology (Benedict Viviano, trans.; Minneapolis: Fortress; Leuven: Peeters, 1993); L. Paul Trudinger, “A Prophet Like Me (Deut. 18:15): Jesus and Moses in St. John’s Gospel, Once Again,” DRev 113 (1995) 193–195; Dieter Sänger, “‘Von mir hat er geschrieben’ (Joh 5,46): Zur Funktion und Bedeutung Mose im Neuen Testament,” KD 41 (1995) 112–135; Matthias Gawlick, “Mose im Johannesevangelium,” BN 84 (1996) 29–35; Stanley Harstine, Moses as a Character in the Fourth Gospel: A Study of Ancient Reading Techniques (JSNTSup 229; London/New York: Sheffield Aca-

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Jesus and “his own” already began at Sinai. The evangelist has deployed, perhaps even created, new haggadah based upon a traditional one. Yet more than mere confrontation is involved in the implicit Christological reading of the Psalm. The traditional story used to interpret the Psalm meshes neatly with Johannine theology. The gracious Word of God came to the people of Israel through Moses at Mount Sinai, offering them freedom from death if they accept and obey that Word. They did not do so and suffered the consequences. That gracious Word of God has now come into the world again in the person of Jesus, offering the same gift of eternal life (John 3:15; 5:39; 6:54, 68; 12:25; 17:2–3), a promise of which Jesus had just reminded the Jerusalem crowds (10:28). The voice of God in the Psalm, his Word, challenged the human “gods,” given a taste of eternal life, to do what is right, to give justice to the weak and the orphan, to maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute, to rescue the weak and the needy from the hand of the wicked (Ps 82:3–4). Jesus’ reference to “the works of his Father” (John 10:37) echoes the Psalm’s challenge, although it refers to the “works” Jesus has done, healing the crippled (John 5), feeding the hungry (John 6), giving sight to the blind (John 9). Jesus in John 8 uses the “works” he has done not primarily as a model for behavior but as a vehicle for seeing the truth of who he is, the one intimately related to the Father (10:30, 38).64 In the Psalm, a voice condemned the addressees for not doing the works of God, for “walking in darkness” (Ps 82:5), something that Jesus himself warns against in the Gospel (11:9–10).65 The key sin in Johannine reckoning is the willful refusal to see the light, the embrace of the darkness of disbelief, a sin that the author condemns through the words of Isaiah at 12:38–40.66 demic, 2002); Pheme Perkins, “Moses in the Gospel of John,” in Christopher G. Frechette, Christopher R. Matthews, and Thomas D. Stegman, S.J., eds., Biblical Essays in Honor of Daniel J. Harrington, S.J. and Richard J. Clifford, S.J., Opportunity for No Little Instruction (New York/Mahwah, NJ: Paulist, 2014) 237–254; Christopher A. Maronde, “Moses in the Gospel of John,” CTM 77 (2013) 23–44; Dorothy A. Lee, “The Significance of Moses in the Gospel of John,” ABR 63 (2015) 52–66; Joel Willets, “David’s Sublation of Moses: A Davidic Explanation for the Mosaic Christology of the Fourth Gospel,” in Reynolds and Boccacini, eds., Reading the Gospel of John’s Christology, 203–225. 64 There may, however, be an “implicit” ethics involved. On that possibility, see van der Watt and Zimmermann, Rethinking the Ethics of John, and Jan van der Watt, “‘Working the Works of God’: Identity and Behaviour in the Gospel of John,” in Jan Krans, Bert Peerbolte, Peter-Ben Smit, Arie Zwiep, eds., Paul, John, and Apocalyptic Eschatology: Studies in Honour of Martinus C. de Boer (Leiden: Brill, 2013) 135–150. 65 The admonition continues the theme flowing from the declaration of John 8:12, but with the twist that the darkness may lie within the self. 66 On this passage see Rudolph Schnackenburg, “John 12,39–41: Zur christologischen Schriftauslegung des vierten Evangelisten,” in H. Baltensweiler and Bo Reicke, eds., Neues Testament und Geschichte: Historisches Geschehen und Deutung im Neuen Testament: FS Oscar Cullmann (Zürich: Theologischer Verlag; Tübingen: Mohr, 1972) 167–177, repr. in

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Psalm 82, construed as a dialogue between God and his people when they encounter his Word, thus maps onto the Gospel’s depiction of the relationship of the people of Israel and the incarnate Word. If that is the case, then another detail of the Johannine reference to the Psalm comes into clearer focus. In his argument to the people of Jerusalem about the appropriate use of the title “Son of God” Jesus refers to himself as one whom the Father “sanctified” (ἡγίασεν) and “sent” (ἀπέστειλεν) (John 10:36). Our initial reading of the passage raised the question of whether this language was adequate to the Christology characteristic of the Gospel. The question reflects a long scholarly discussion about the roots of Johannine Christology in notions of a divine emissary.67 Whatever its history, the Gospel’s Christology as a whole, and this passage in particular, maintains that Jesus is, since “the beginning” (1:1), in intimate relationship with the Father (10:30, 38), a relationship through which “all things came to be” (1:3).68 The reference to Jesus being “sanctified” and “sent” is certainly of a piece with the Gospel’s affirmation that Jesus is God’s agent. The affirmation that Jesus has been “sent” by the Father is a constant feature of the text.69 That Jesus is “sanctified” is rarer, appearing only at 17:19, where Jesus sanctifies himself so that his disciples may be sanctified.70 Exactly what the Father’s action is meant to be here is less clear, but some sort of sacral commissioning seems likely. An intriguing possibility is that Psalm 82 is again in view and that the whole of the Psalm has been construed as a dialogue between God, the people of Israel at Sinai, and the Son who has come to that people as God’s Word, an interpretive technique attested in Paul and the Epistle to the idem, Das Johannesevangelium (HThKNT 4,4: Ergänzende Auslegungen und Exkurse; Freiburg: Herder, 1984) 4.143–152; Daniel Brendsel, “Isaiah Saw His Glory”: The Use of Isaiah 52–53 in John 12 (BZNW 208; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014). 67 See Rudolf Schnackenburg, “‘Der Vater, der mich gesandt hat’: Zur johanneischen Christologie,” in Cilliers Breytenbach and Henning Paulsen, eds., Anfänge der Christologie: Festschrift für Ferdinand Hahn zum 65. Geburtstag (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1991) 275–291; William R. G. Loader, The Christology of the Fourth Gospel: Structure and Issues (BBET 23; Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 19922); Paul Anderson, “The Having-Sent-Me Father–Aspects of Agency, Irony and Encounter in the Johannine Father-Son Relationship,” Sem 85 (1999) 33–57. 68 Some readers of the Prologue reject the allusion to Genesis. See most recently John Behr, John the Theologian & His Paschal Gospel: A Prelude to Theology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019). For analysis of the affirmation of preexistence, see Friedericke Kunath, Die Präexistenz Jesu im Johannesevangelium (BZNW 212; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2016); idem, “Jesus’ Preexistence and the Temporal Configuration of the Gospel of John,” Early Christianity 8 (2017) 30–47. 69 Cf. John 3:17, 34; 4:44; 5:23–24, 30, 36–38; 6:29, 38–40, 57; 7:16, 28–29, 33; 8:16, 18, 26, 29, 42; 9:4; 11:42; 12:44–45; 13:20; 14:24; 15:21; 17:3, 8, 18, 21, 23; 20:21. 70 The verse may play on motifs of a “priestly” Christology. See Harold W. Attridge, “How Priestly is the ‘High Priestly’ Prayer of John 17,” CBQ 75 (2013) 1–15.

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Hebrews.71 If such a construal is at work, the last verse of the Psalm would not have been, as suggested earlier, an exclamation by the Psalmist, but a continuation of God’s address. After denouncing the “gods,” i.e. the people of Israel, because they do not judge rightly, the voice turns to someone else and says, “Arise, O God, judge the earth, for the nations belong to you.” If God is speaking, he appoints a new universal judge and calls that judge God. The appointment is the “sanctification” and sending of the Son, appropriately designated with the name of the sender. He deserves that name because he does not “make himself God,” as the crowd charged (John 10:33), but because God has given it to him as part of his commission.72 Early Christians read Ps 2:7 as a heavenly dialogue between Father and Son,73 in which the voice of the “Son” reports his commission or “begetting” and the divine promise to “Make the nations your heritance and the ends of the earth your possession.” Ps 82:8 makes a similar promise. This reading of the passage in John against the background of Psalms, dialogically construed, resolves one further problem. As part of his argument about the use of the title God, Jesus says that scripture “cannot be broken” (John 10:35).74 The verb used here (λύω) can have a narrow sense that a scriptural command cannot be disobeyed, as at John 7:23, where the prohibition of work on the Sabbath is in view. Here the cited verse of the Psalm does not involve any command. The Psalm’s conclusion does so, however, when the mysterious and possibly divine voice tells the addressee, God, to rise and judge the nations. Jesus is not one to disobey the Father’s command, and, as 71

On the address to the Son as God, see Heb 1:8–9, citing Psalm 44. On the conceit of construing the Psalms as dialogues, see Harold W. Attridge, “Giving Voice to Jesus,” in idem and Margot Fassler, eds., Psalms in Community (Atlanta: SBL; Leiden: Brill, 2004) 101–112, repr. in idem, Essays on John and Hebrews (WUNT 264; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010) 320–330, and Madison Pierce, Divine Discourse in the Epistle to the Hebrews: The Recontextualization of Spoken Quotations of Scripture (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, forthcoming 2020). The article by Anthony T. Hanson, “John’s Citation of Ps LXXXII,” 161, initially made the case for a dialogical reading of Ps 82 in John 10, although he construes it primarily as a dialogue between the preexistent Word and the people of Israel. 72 Jewish tradition also knows of the possibility of God addressing the Messiah with a divine name. Midr. Pss. 21.2, after citing, among other texts, Ps 82:6, notes: “God will call the king, the Messiah, after his own name, for it is said of the king, the Messiah, ‘This is his name, whereby he shall be called: The Lord our Righteousness (Jer 23:6).’” 73 See Heb 1:5; Acts 13:33. 74 Klaus Scholtissek, “‘Die unauflösbare Schrift’ (Joh 10,35): Zur Auslegung und Theologie der Schrift Israels im Johannesevangelium,” in Thomas Söding, Klaus Berger, Jörg Frey, eds., Johannesevangelium – Mitte oder Rand des Kanons? Neue Standortbestimmungen (QD 203; Freiburg, Basel, Wien: Herder, 2001) 146–177; Jaime Clark-Soles, Scripture Cannot be Broken: The Social Function of the Use of Scripture in the Fourth Gospel (Boston: Brill, 2003). Hanson, “John’s Citation of Ps LXXXII,” 161, takes the Psalm as a prophecy, not “broken” inasmuch as it is fulfilled.

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“God,” he will “judge the world.” Those who read the Psalm aright, anticipating that judgment, should also follow the divine example and call the Son by the title his Father gave him. The move in interpreting Psalm 82 suggested here is not without precedent in early Jewish haggadah. Midr. Pss. 21/2 ascribes a divine title to the Messiah, citing both the precedent of Moses being called a “god” to Pharaoh (Exod 7:1) and the address to the people of Israel as “gods” in Ps 82:6. It concludes: “God will call the king, the Messiah, after his own name, for it is said of the king, the Messiah, “This is his name whereby he shall be called: The Lord.” Jer 23:6, which says that David the “righteous Branch” will be called “The Lord is our righteousness” may also lie in the background.75

IV. Conclusion The citation of Ps 82:6 on the part of Jesus in John 10:34 is not a casual part of the episode, but probably involves a reading of the whole Psalm from which the citation derives. The reading relies on and expands an early haggadah or story that interprets the Psalm. That framing story interprets the Psalm’s problematic declaration that someone other than God is God by presenting the text as a dialogue between God and the people of Israel at Mt. Sinai. That narrative framework, reflected in rabbinic sources, was already a part of the tradition on which the evangelist drew. He makes a further haggadic move, introducing another addressee into the mix. God is understood to be speaking not only to his people as a whole, but also to his Son, whom he appoints as judge over all the earth.76 How he exercises that judgment is another issue that will occupy the evangelist, but that he does judge is clear.77 75 Cf. Buber 178, Braude, Midrash on Psalms, 293–294. The haggadic tradition, with the implication that the Messiah is summoned to judge the nations, appears to lie behind Justin Martyr’s interpretation of Psalm 82. In “Dialogue with Trypho” 124.1, the apologist defends the application of “god” to Christ. In doing so he introduces Psalm 82 as the word of the Holy Spirit who addresses the people of Israel as “sons of the Most High” and tells how Christ will be “present in their assembly, rendering judgment” (ἐν τῇ συναγωγῇ παρέσται ... τὴν κρίσιν … ποιούμενος). Again, I am grateful to Roger Aus for noting the parallels. 76 The interpretation of another “Messianic” psalm may influence the framing of Psalm 82. In Psalm 2, another royal psalm prominent in other early Christian texts such as Heb 1:5, the addressee is declared to be “Son” and then, in words of Scripture also promised eternal dominion (vv. 8–13). 77 On the theme of judgment in John, see Josef Blank, Krisis: Untersuchungen zur johanneischen Christologie und Eschatologie (Freiburg im Breisgau: Lambertus, 1964); Jerome H. Neyrey, “Jesus the Judge: Forensic Process in John 8:21–59,” Bib 68 (1987) 509–542; Harold W. Attridge, “Divine Sovereignty and Human Responsibility in the Fourth Gospel,” in John Ashton, ed., Revealed Wisdom: FS Christopher Rowland (AJEC 88; Leiden, New York: Brill, 2014) 183–199, and the treatments of forensic imagery, especially Andrew Lincoln, “Trials,

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The Fourth Evangelist was thus an heir to a tradition of haggadah, to reading scripture that built stories on and around the sacred text, thereby creating new meaning. He used the narrative setting provided by tradition and expanded it in his own creative way to affirm his belief in Jesus as the Son of God.

Plots and the Narrative of the Fourth Gospel,” JSNT 56 (1994) 3–30; idem, Truth on Trial: The Lawsuit Motif in the Fourth Gospel (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2000); George Parsenios, Rhetoric and Drama in the Johannine Lawsuit Motif (WUNT 1.258; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010); and Jeffrey M. Tripp, “Claiming Ignorance and Intimidating Witnesses: Reading John 9 in Greco-Roman Forensic Context,” CBQ 80 (2018) 470–490.

Haggadic Motifs in the Acts of the Apostles: A Search for Traces of the Tradition of the Elders in Acts 1–3 Arie W. Zwiep I. Introduction The Book of Acts is not the most natural place to look for haggadic motifs. Overall, Acts is a product of Greek-Hellenistic provenance, not of Palestinian or rabbinic Judaism.1 Written in the Greek of the day, the work bears the hallmarks of the cosmopolitan Mediterranean culture in which early Christianity emerged.2 It is therefore no surprise to see that in the past much scholarly attention has been devoted to the study of Graeco-Roman parallels to Acts, with unsurprising results: informed (Hellenistic) readers of the time would easily recognize the many allusions to and echoes of the literature of Greek and Roman antiquity, not only in the later chapters of the book but also from the start. From the ascension of Jesus, the apostolic speeches and the miracles performed by the apostles to the miraculous prison escapes, Paul’s missionary travels, his visit to Athens, his trials, and his sea travels, in each and all of them themes and motifs widely attested in antiquity resonate quite loudly.3 Acts breathes the air of Hellenistic (Graeco-Roman) culture.4 1 In general see: Bruce D. Winter, ed., The Book of Acts in Its First Century Setting, 5 vols. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans; Carlisle: Paternoster, 1993–1996); Richard I. Pervo, Acts (Hermeneia, Minneapolis: Fortress, 2009); Craig S. Keener, Acts: An Exegetical Commentary, vol. 1: Introduction and 1:1–2:47 (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2012) 90–147. 2 See Martin Hengel and Anna Maria Schwemer, Die Urgemeinde und das Judenchristentum, vol. 2 of Geschichte des frühen Christentums (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2019). Cf. also Erich S. Gruen, “The Greco-Roman Background of the New Testament,” in The Jewish Annotated New Testament (New Revised Standard Version), ed. Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Zvi Brettler (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 20172) 580–583. 3 See e.g. Johann Jakob Wettstein, Η ΚΑΙΝΗ ΔΙΑΘΗΚΗ: Novum Testamentum Graecum editionis receptae cum lectionibus variantibus codicum MSS., Editionum aliarum, Versionum et Patrum nec non commentario pleniore etc., 2 vols. (Amsterdam: Dommerian, 1751–1752); repr. idem, Novum Testamentum Graecum (Graz: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt, 1962) 2.455–657; Eckhard Plümacher, Lukas als hellenistischer Schriftsteller: Studien zur Apostelgeschichte (SUNT 9; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1972); Willem C. van Unnik, “Luke’s Second Book and the Rules of Hellenistic Historiography,” in Les Actes des Apôtres: Traditions, rédaction, théologie, ed. Jacob Kremer (BETL 48; Gembloux: Duculot; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1979) 37–60; Pieter W. van der Horst, “Hellenistic Paral-

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However, Acts is “local historiography,” firmly situated – at least in the first half of the book – in first-century Palestine.5 It is rooted in a decidedly Jewish context, as is clear from the narrative setting in Jerusalem and its surroundings, the role of the Temple and its institutions, the practice of Jewish charity, the use of the scriptures, the conflicts with the Jewish leadership about legal matters, discussions about Jesus’s messianic status, etc.6 Bruce Chilton’s assessment of the Gospel of Mark also applies to the Book of Acts: it is “clearly in contact with Judaism.”7

lels to the Acts of the Apostles (1,1–26),” ZNW 74 (1983) 17–26; idem, “Hellenistic Parallels to the Acts of the Apostles (2,1–47),” JSNT 25 (1985) 49–60; idem, “Hellenistic Parallels to Acts (chapters 3 and 4),” JSNT 35 (1989) 37–46; Dennis R. MacDonald, Does the New Testament Imitate Homer? Four Cases from the Acts of the Apostles (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003); Loveday C. A. Alexander, Acts in Its Ancient Literary Context: A Classicist Looks at the Acts of the Apostles (LNTS 298; London: T&T Clark International, 2006); Knut Backhaus, Die Entgrenzung des Heils: Gesammelte Studien zur Apostelgeschichte (WUNT 422; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2019), and many more. 4 See David E. Aune, The New Testament in Its Literary Environment (LEC 8; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1987), 77–157; David W. J. Gill and Conrad Gempf, eds., The Book of Acts in Its Graeco-Roman Setting (BAFCS 2; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans; Carlisle: Paternoster, 1994). 5 On the genre of Acts, see Gregory E. Sterling, Historiography and Self-Definition: Josephos, Luke-Acts and Apologetic Historiography (NovTSup 64; Leiden: Brill, 1992); David W. Palmer, “Acts and the Ancient Historical Monograph,” in The Book of Acts in Its Ancient Literary Setting, ed. Bruce W. Winter and Andrew D. Clarke (BAFCS 1; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans; Carlisle: Paternoster, 1993) 1–29; Loveday C. A. Alexander, “Acts and Ancient Intellectual Biography,” in Winter and Clarke, Book of Acts, 31–63; Brian S. Rosner, “Acts and Biblical History,” in Winter and Clarke, Book of Acts, 65–82; Loveday C. A. Alexander, “The Preface of Acts and the Historians,” in History, Literature, and Society in the Book of Acts, ed. Ben Witherington (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996) 300–323; Ben Witherington III, “Acts and the Question of Genre,” in idem, The Acts of the Apostles: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1998) 2–39; Marianne Palmer Bonz, The Past as Legacy: Luke-Acts and Ancient Epic (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2000); Claire K. Rothschild, Luke-Acts and the Rhetoric of History: An Investigation of Early Christian Historiography (WUNT 2.175; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004); Richard A. Burridge, “The Genre of Acts Revisited,” in Reading Acts Today: Essays in Honour of Loveday C. A. Alexander, ed. Steve Walton (LNTS 472; London: T&T Clark, 2011) 3–28; Sean A. Adams, The Genre of Acts and Collected Biography (SNTSMS 156; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013); Alan J. Bale, Genre and Narrative Coherence in the Acts of the Apostles (LNTS 514; London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2015); Andrew W. Pitts, History, Biography, and the Genre of Luke-Acts: An Exploration of Literary Divergence in Greek Narrative Discourse (BibInt 177; Leiden: Brill, 2019). 6 See Richard Bauckham, ed., The Book of Acts in Its Palestinian Setting (BAFCS 4; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans; Carlisle: Paternoster, 1995). 7 Bruce D. Chilton, ed., A Comparative Handbook to the Gospel of Mark: Comparisons with Pseudepigrapha, the Qumran Scrolls, and Rabbinic Literature, vol. 1 of The New Testament Gospels in Their Judaic Contexts (Leiden: Brill, 2010) vii.

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In line with the rhetorical conventions of Hellenistic history writing, it is to be expected that the auctor ad Theophilum has added – when and where appropriate (πρέπον, aptum) – couleur locale to his narrative suited to the subject.8 If anywhere, it is here where haggadic motifs are likely to emerge, either because the author himself was informed (or informed enough) about the specifics of the first-century Jewish context of his subject, or because his (oral or written) sources contained haggadic material that made its way into his work in a less straightforward way.9 In this article, I will make an inventory (illustrative, not exhaustive) of haggadic motifs in the first three chapters of Acts to see to what extent “the tradition of the elders/fathers”10 has been drawn into the narrative world of Acts.11 First, however, some methodological provisos must be made.

II. Methodological Provisos I take “haggadic motifs” in the broad sense of the word, that is, motifs in nonlegally binding (non-halachic) texts in early Jewish and classical rabbinic literature.12 The quest for haggadic motifs is beset with numerous problems 8 Cf., e.g., Cicero, De or. 3:55 (210–212); LCL 349.166–169 (H. Rackham): “quid aptum sit, hoc est, quid maxime deceat in oratione.” 9 See Albert Hogeterp and Adelbert Denaux, Semitisms in Luke’s Greek: A Descriptive Analysis of Lexical and Syntactical Domains of Semitic Language Influence in Luke’s Gospel (WUNT 401; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2018), for an excellent investigation of Luke’s writing style. 10 Cf. Claudia J. Setzer, “Tradition of the Elders,” ABD 6 (1992) 638–639, and Birger Gerhardsson, Memory and Manuscript: Oral Tradition and Written Transmission in Rabbinic Judaism and Early Christianity, with Tradition and Transmission in Early Christianity, Combined Edition; Foreword by Jacob Neusner; trans. Eric J. Sharpe (BRS; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, [1961/1964] 1998), passim. 11 I limit myself to Acts 1–3 only for practical reasons. A very clear example of haggadic tradition found elsewhere in Acts can be found in Roger David Aus, “The Severe Famine to Come upon ‘the Whole World’ in Acts 11:28,” in idem, Essays in the Judaic Background of Mark 11:12–14, 20–21; 15:23; Luke 1:37; John 19:28–30; and Acts 11:28 (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 2015) 167–199. 12 Hans Bietenhard, “Haggada,” in vol. 14 of Theologische Realenzyklopädie, ed. Gerhard Müller (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1985) 351–354: “alle nicht-halachische Auslegung der Bibel… Keine literarische Gattung, sondern ein Sammelbegriff für alle irgendwie erzählenden Stoffe: Geschichten, Anekdoten, Gleichnisse usw. Haggada ist jede religiös-ethische, belehrende, mahnende, tröstende, verheißende, strafende, drohende Bibelauslegung; sie weist größte Mannigfaltigkeit im ganzen wie im einzelnen auf. Diese Bibelauslegung wurde im Judentum in seinen verschiedenen Gruppen während Jahrhunderten geübt, an verschiedenen Orten und unter verschiedenen Bedingungen…. Man muß sich damit begnügen, Beispiele zur Illustration dessen auszuwählen, was Haggada jeweils ist und sein kann.” Also: Gary G. Porton, “Haggadah,” in vol. 3 of Anchor Bible Dictionary, ed. David Noel Freedman (New York:

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and complications. The standard collections of rabbinic material for the study of the New Testament such as Lightfoot, Strack-Billerbeck, Montefiore and Bonsirven not infrequently suffer from an undifferentiated and anachronistic treatment of sources.13 The Neuer Wettstein and Bruce Chilton’s Comparative Handbook project are more alert to the anachronistic fallacy, but in both cases the projected volume on Acts has not yet been published.14 Chilton’s suggestion to start with the observation of (simple, topical, interpretative and close) analogies rather than with literary relationships,15 is particularly helpful for a comparative analysis, provided that, as Chilton puts it himself, there is “sensitivity to the literary contexts of Judaic sources, and far greater accuracy and specificity in regard to questions of dating.”16 In what follows, I will undertake an exercise not so much in tradition-, source- and redaction-criticism but in comparative analysis to find out to what extent Luke’s presentation in the first three chapters of Acts betrays features of Jewish haggadah. The search is not (only) for sources but for (analogical) motifs, not (only) for linguistic features,17 but also for literary features. Even if the results will be meagre in comparison with Hellenistic influences, it will be worth the effort.18 Luke’s Doubleday, 1992) 19–20 (“Contrary to much speculation it seems likely that Haggadah did not derive solely from biblical exegesis,” 19); Klaus Herrmann, “Haggada,” in Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart: Handwörterbuch für Theologie und Religionswissenschaft, ed. Hans-Dieter Betz et al. (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 20004) 3.1374. See also Stephen G. Wald et al., “Aggadah or Haggadah,” in EncJud (20072) 1.454–464 (including further literature), and the article by Günter Stemberger on the essence of haggadah in the first chapter of this volume. 13 John Lightfoot, A Commentary on the New Testament from the Talmud and Hebraica (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1859); formerly titled Horae Hebraicae et Talmudicae, 4 vols., ed. R. Laird Harris (Peabody: Hendrickson, [1979] 2003); Hermann L. Strack and Paul Billerbeck, Kommentar zum Neuen Testament aus Talmud und Midrasch; Claude G. Montefiore, Rabbinic Literature and Gospel Teachings (The Library of Biblical Studies; New York: Ktav, [1930] 1970); Joseph Bonsirven, Textes rabbiniques des deux premiers siècles chrétiens pour servir à l’intelligence du Nouveau Testament (Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1955); Francis Martin, Narrative Parallels to the New Testament (SBLRBS 22; Atlanta, GA: Scholars, 1988) 79–155 (more alert to chronology). 14 Udo Schnelle et al., eds., Neuer Wettstein: Texte zum Neuen Testament aus Griechentum und Hellenismus (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2008–present); Chilton, A Comparative Handbook to the Gospel of Mark. 15 Chilton, A Comparative Handbook to the Gospel of Mark viii–xii. 16 Idem, A Comparative Handbook to the Gospel of Mark xi. 17 Matthew Black, An Aramaic Approach to the Gospels and Acts (Oxford: Clarendon, 1946, 19673); Max Wilcox, The Semitisms of Acts (Oxford: Clarendon, 1965). 18 For references to Acts in the pseudepigraphical writings (OTP), see Steve Delamarter, with a Contribution by James H. Charlesworth, Scripture Index to Charlesworth’s The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002). There are 68 references to Acts in vol. 1 (Delamarter, Scripture Index 42–43); 83 references to Acts in vol. 2, 56 of which are from JosAsen (Delamarter, Scripture Index 94), and 24 references to Acts in

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known principle of duality, that is, his ability to address different audiences (Jewish and Graeco-Roman readers) with one and the same message,19 is a promising indicator of potential success of the attempt.

III. Haggadic Motifs In what follows the following potential haggadic motifs will be discussed: 1. Οὐχ ὑμῶν ἐστιν γνῶναι χρόνους ἢ καιρούς, “It is not for you to know the times or periods” (1:7); 2. The ascension cloud as Shekinah motif? (1:9); 3. Σαββάτου ἔχον ὁδόν, “a sabbath day’s journey away” (1:12); 4. The first speech of Peter as a midrash on Pss 68:26 LXX and 108:8b LXX (1:16–22); 5. Ἁκελδαμάχ, τοῦτ’ ἔστιν χωρίον αἵματος, “Hakeldama, that is, Field of Blood” (1:19); 6. Rabbinic exegetical techniques in Peter’s Pentecost Speech (2:14–36); 7. Λύσας τὰς ὠδῖνας τοῦ θανάτου, “loosing the pains/cords of death” (2:24); 8. Μετανοήσατε καὶ ἐπιστρέψατε, ὅπως ἂν… ἀποστείλῃ τὸν προκεχειρισμένον ὑμῖν χριστὸν, “Repent and turn [to God] so that… he may send the Messiah appointed for you” (3:19–20); 9. Καιροὶ ἀναψύξεως, “times of refreshment” (3:20); 10. Ἄχρι χρόνων ἀποκαταστάσεως πάντων, “until the restoration of all things” (3:21), and 11. Ὃν δεῖ οὐρανὸν μὲν δέξασθαι, “whom heaven must receive” (3:21).20 The list is not exhaustive – especially in the Pentecost narrative more haggadic motifs will be found, yet this would rethe supplementary volume (ed. Bauckham) (778). See also the indexes in Samson Uytanlet, Luke-Acts and Jewish Historiography: A Study on the Theology, Literature, and Ideology of Luke-Acts (WUNT 2.366; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014) 309–315 (Index of Greco-Roman Writings) 316–319 (Index of Jewish Writings). 19 Two obvious examples are the ascension narratives (see my assessment in Arie W. Zwiep, “Ascension Scholarship: Past, Present, and Future,” in Ascent into Heaven in LukeActs: New Explorations of Luke’s Narrative Hinge, ed. David K. Bryan and David W. Pao [Minneapolis: Fortress, 2016] 13–17), and Paul’s Areopagus Address (cf. Rudolf Pesch, Die Apostelgeschichte (Apg 13–28) [EKKNT 5; Solothurn: Benziger; Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener, 1986, 20032] 2.127–144; Keener, Acts 3:2614–2675). 20 Elsewhere I have suggested that συναλιζόμενος “eating (salt) together with them” (1:4) is a Lukan construction and suggests a mealtime setting. Cf. Arie W. Zwiep, The Ascension of the Messiah in Lukan Christology (NovTSup 87; Leiden: Brill, 1997) 99–101, now to be supplemented by the information provided by Franco Montanari, The Brill Dictionary of Ancient Greek, English Edition, ed. Madeleine Goh and Chad Schroeder, under the auspices of the Center for Hellenic Studies, Harvard University (Leiden: Brill, 2015) 87 s.v. 2. ἁλίζω. Even if it were to go back to a Hebrew or Aramaic source (cf. Wilcox, Semitisms, 106–109; diff. Charles Kingsley Barrett, Preliminary Introduction and Commentary on Acts I–XIV, vol. 1 of The Acts of the Apostles, 2 vols. [ICC; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1994] 71–72), I do not think the mealtime setting is specific enough to count as an haggadic motif in a meaningful sense. See for a remote parallel: b. Ber. 2b, “From the time that the poor man comes [home] to eat his bread with salt” (Soncino Eng. 4).

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quire a separate treatment21 – but the motifs discussed will sufficiently illustrate the degree and nature of Acts’ indebtedness to “the tradition of the fathers.”22 1. Οὐχ ὑμῶν ἐστιν γνῶναι χρόνους ἢ καιρούς, “It is not for you to know the times or periods” (1:7) That knowledge of the future is a divine, not a human prerogative (except by revelation) is an accepted belief in Hellenistic sources. In his well-known article on Hellenistic parallels to Acts 1, Pieter van der Horst instances two close (topical) parallels to this verse, one from Sophocles and one from Plutarch.23 Thus a chorus in Sophocles declares: “Human nature must think human thoughts, knowing that there is no master of the future, of what is destined to be accomplished, except Zeus” (θνητὴν δὲ φύσιν χρὴ θνητὰ φρονεῖν, τοῦτο κατειδότας, ὡς οὐκ ἔστιν πλὴν Διὸς οὐδεὶς τῶν μελλόντων ταμίας ὅ τι χρὴ τετελέσθαι).24 And in Plutarch, it says: For it is presumptuous enough for those untrained in music to speak about things musical, and for those of no military experience about war; but it is more presumptuous for mere human beings like ourselves to inquire into the concerns of gods and daemons (τὸ τὰ θεῖα καὶ τὰ δαιμόνια πράγματα διασκοπεῖν ἀνθρώπους ὄντας), where we are like laymen seeking to follow the thought of experts by the guesswork of opinion and imputation. It cannot be that while it is hard for a layman to conjecture the reasoning of a doctor – why he used the knife later and not before, and cauterized not yesterday but today – it should be easy or safe for a mortal to say anything else about God than this: that he knows full well the right moment (ὅτι τὸν καιρὸν εἰδὼς ἄριστα) for healing vice, and administers punishment to each patient as a medicine, a punishment neither given in the same amount in every case nor after the same interval for all.25

For a lexical parallel to χρόνους ἢ καιρούς, van der Horst quotes a phrase from Demosthenes: τίνα γὰρ χρόνον ἢ τίνα καιρόν, ὦ ἄνδρες Ἀθηναῖοι, τοῦ παρόντος

21 On the Festival of Weeks and its relation to the Christian Pentecost, see (in addition to the commentaries on Acts 2): Str-B 2.597–615; Eduard Lohse, “Πεντηκοστή,” TWNT 6 (1959) 44–53; Alfons Weiser, “Πεντηκοστή,” EWNT 3 (1983, 20113) 165–166; Jakob J. Petuchowski, Feiertage des Herrn: Die Welt der jüdischen Feste und Bräuche (Freiburg: Herder, 1984); James C. VanderKam, “Weeks, Festival of,” ABD 6 (1992) 895–897; Stefan Schreiber, “Aktualisierung göttlichen Handelns am Pfingsttag: Das frühjüdische Fest in Apg 2,1,” ZNW 93 (2002) 58–77; Louis Jacobs, “Shavuot,” in EncJud (20072) 18.422–423. 22 I also do not discuss “the forty days” of Acts 1:3. This “biblical” number does play a significant role in rabbinic literature, but I consider the notion of the forty days attested in the early Jewish apocalypses as too firm an element of the rapture tradition (to denote a period of final instructions before the definitive leave-taking) to consider it as an haggadic motif in the proper sense of the term. See Zwiep, Ascension of the Messiah, 36–79 and passim. 23 Pieter van der Horst, “Hellenistic Parallels to the Acts of the Apostles (1,1–26)” 20. 24 Sophocles, Fragments, fragm. 590; LCL 483.296–297 (H. Lloyd-Jones). 25 Plutarch, Mor. Sera 4.549–550F, LCL 405.190–191 (Ph.H. de Lacy and B. Einarson).

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βελτίω ζητεῖτε; “Why, what better time or occasion could you find than the present, men of Athens?”26 However, not denying the appropriateness of the parallels, discourse about times and seasons combined with divine knowledge is a more prominent feature of Jewish tradition. Knowledge of the future as a divine not a human prerogative (except by revelation) is a basic Jewish conviction, already in the scriptures and in the Jewish apocalyptic tradition.27 For the present purpose we may however refer to Charles Kingsley Barrett’s commentary on Acts. Barrett has drawn attention to a parallel from rabbinic literature.28 In Mekilta Vayassa 6 on Exod 16:32 (59b), it says: Seven things are concealed from the eyes of man: the day of death, the day of consolation, the depth of judgment, the source of his livelihood, what is in the heart of his neighbor, the restoration of the house of David (‫)ומלכות בית דוד אימתי תחזור למקומה‬, and the uprooting of the kingdom of the “liable one” (i.e., Rome).29

The same idea can be found in b. Pesaḥ. 54b, where the restoration of the Davidic kingdom is also one of the seven things concealed from people: “[O]ne does not know when the monarchy of the house of David will be restored (‫ )ומלכות בית דוד מתי תחזיר‬to Israel.”30 The obvious difference from the Hellenistic parallels is that the notion of the human lack of insight into the divine economy is not only expressed in an eschatological context (as in Mark 13:32; Matt 24:36; 1 Thess 5:1), but also, as seems to be the case in Acts, in the context of the expectation of a future restoration of the Davidic kingdom.31 That makes these rabbinic texts much closer (topical) analogies to Acts than the Hellenistic ones cited by van der Horst. 26

Demosthenes, Orations III, 3 Olynth. 16; LCL 238.50–51 (J.H. Vince). Also instanced by Barrett, Acts, 1.78. More examples can be found in BDAG 498 s.v. καιρός. 27 Christopher Rowland, The Open Heaven: A Study of Apocalyptic in Judaism and Early Christianity (London: SPCK, 1982). 28 Barrett, Acts 1.78 (through Str-B). 29 Mek. Ex. 16:32 (59b); ed. and trans. William Davidson Talmud (digital edition); trans. Bonsirven, Textes rabbiniques, 26 (no. 111). 30 b. Pesaḥ. 54b; ed. and trans. William Davidson Talmud (digital edition) (bold font replaced by italics); trans. Bonsirven, Textes rabbiniques 205 (no. 830). Cf. also b. Meg. 3a: “And Yonathan ben Uzziel also sought to reveal a translation of the Writings, but a Divine Voice emerged and said to him: It is enough for you that you translated the Prophets. The Gemara explains: What is the reason that he was denied permission to translate the Writings? Because it has in it a revelation of the end, when the Messiah will arrive. The end is foretold in a cryptic manner in the book of Daniel, and were the book of Daniel translated, the end would become manifestly revealed to all” (William Davidson Talmud); trans. Bonsirven, Textes rabbiniques 265 (no. 1051). More rabbinic texts about the unknowability of the end (of times, of one’s life) can be found in Str-B 2.588–589. 31 On the question of the disciples and Jesus’s answer, see Arie W. Zwiep, “A Question of Misunderstanding or a Misunderstood Question? Exegetical Comments on Acts 1:6,” in Questions in Biblical Texts, ed. Bart Koet and Archibald van Wieringen (CBET; Leuven: Peeters, forthcoming). In Acts 1:7, Augustine, Cyprian, and the (reconstituted) Western text

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2. The ascension cloud as Shekinah motif? (1:9)32 Although the term Shekinah (‫שׁכינה‬, from ‫“ שׁכן‬to dwell”) is post-biblical, the idea is already found in the Hebrew Bible, especially in connection with the divine presence in the tabernacle and in the temple. Some scholars have suggested that the cloud at the ascension (1:9) hints at the typical Shekinah motif, symbolizing (or materializing) divine presence. Thus Frederick Fyvie Bruce suggested that “[w]e may well be intended to think of the cloud veiling the Shekina,” referring somewhat inaccurately to an article by A. M. Ramsey.33 In later rabbinic literature, the Shekinah represents the divine presence manifested in the world, God’s (glorious) dwelling among the people of Israel.34 Sometimes the Shekinah is identified with a cloud, sometimes it is accompanied by a “cloud of glory,” as for example in the targumic tradition. The following examples may be representative: The cloud of glory covered the tent of meeting, and the Glory of the Shekinah of the Lord filled the tabernacle. And it was not possible for Moses to enter the tent of meeting, because the cloud of glory had settled upon it, and the Glory of the Shekinah of the Lord filled the tabernacle. At the moment when the cloud of glory rose from upon the tabernacle, read “Nemo potest cognoscere” (= οὐδεὶς δύναται γνῶναι), see Marie-Émile Boismard, Le texte occidental des Actes des Apôtres: Édition nouvelle entièrement refondue (EBib NS 40; Paris: Gabalda, 2000) 53; Patrick Faure, Les Actes des Apôtres: Texte occidental reconstitué (EBib NS 79; Leuven: Peeters, 2019) 9. According to Barrett, Acts 1.77, this “may reflect no more than inaccurate quotation (possibly of Mk 13.32) from memory.” 32 See (in general) Albrecht Oepke, “νεφέλη, νέφος,” TWNT 4.904–912 (TDNT 4.902– 910); Jesús Luzarraga, Las tradiciones de la nube en la Biblia y en el Judaismo primitivo (AnBib 54; Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1973); Leopold Sabourin, “The Biblical Cloud: Terminology and Traditions,” BTB 4 (1974) 290–311. 33 Frederick Fyvie Bruce, The Acts of the Apostles: The Greek Text with Introduction and Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans; Leicester: Apollos, [1951] 1990) 104, following A. M. Ramsey, “What Was the Ascension?” (1951), repr. in Historicity and Chronology in the New Testament, ed. Dennis E. Nineham et al. (TCSPCK 6; London: SPCK, 1965) 143 (“the cloud of the divine presence”). Ramsey, however, does not use the term Shekinah. See also Robert D. Kaylor, “The Ascension Motif in Luke-Acts, the Epistle to the Hebrews, and the Fourth Gospel” (PhD diss., Duke University, 1964) 39: “By having Jesus enveloped in the cloud Luke is saying that this Jesus is received into the cloud of the Shekinah or divine glory.” 34 See Str-B 2.314–315; Arnold M. Goldberg, Untersuchungen über die Vorstellung von der Schekhinah in der frühen rabbinischen Literatur: Talmud und Midrasch (SJ 5; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1969); Ephraim E. Urbach, The Sages: Their Concepts and Beliefs, trans. from the Hebrew by Israel Abrahams (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1975) 37–65 (“The Shekhina – The presence of God in the World”); Alan Unterman, Rivka G. Horvitz et al., “Shekhinah,” in EncJud (20072) 18.440–444; Bernd Janowski and Enno Edzard Popkes, with Stefanie Christine Hertel and Cordula Wiest, eds., Das Geheimnis der Gegenwart Gottes: Zur Schechina-Vorstellung in Judentum und Christentum (WUNT 318; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014); Marek Vaňuš, La presenza di Dio tra gli uomini: La tradizione della “shekinah” in Neofiti e in Matteo (TG.T 214; Rome: Gregorian University Press, 2015).

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the children of Israel set out on all their journeys. But if the cloud of glory did not rise, they did not set out until the day when it did rise. For the cloud of the Glory of the Lord would overshadow the tent by day, and the pillar of fire would shine by night. And all the children of Israel saw (that) in all their journeys.35 Then the Glory of the Lord’s Shekinah was revealed at the Tent in a pillar of cloud; and the pillar of cloud stood at the door of the Tent, and Moses and Joshua stood on the outside… I shall remove my Shekinah from them (= the wicked ones of the people); they will become plunder, many distressful evils will happen to them… I shall surely remove my Shekinah from them….36 And then the LORD will create over the whole sanctuary of the Mount of Zion and over the place of the house of the Shekhinah a cloud of glory – it will be covering it by day, and the dense cloud will be as a flaming fire by night; for it shall have glory greater than was promised he would bring upon it, the Shekhinah will be sheltering it as a canopy. And over Jerusalem there will be the covering of my cloud to cover it by day from heat and for a refuge and for shelter from storm and from rain.37 Furthermore, do not defile the land in which you reside, since My Shekhina dwells in it, for I am the Lord; My Shekhina dwells among the Israelites.38

However, in the light of both Graeco-Roman and early Jewish rapture traditions, the cloud of the ascension is more likely to be taken as the typical rapture cloud as a means of transportation in the Greek and Roman39 and early Jewish rapture stories.40 That the rapture cloud evokes numenal associations

35

Tg. Ps.-J. Exod 40:34–38; trans. Michael Maher 275. Tg. Ps.-J. Deut 31:15–18; trans. Ernest G. Clarke 86–87. 37 Tg. Isa. 4:5–6; trans. Bruce D. Chilton, The Isaiah Targum, 10. 38 Tg. Onq. Num 35:34; trans. Bernard Grossfeld, 162. Cf. also Tg. Neof. Num 35:34; trans. Martin J. McNamara, 183: “And you shall not defile the land in which you dwell, since the Glory of my Shekinah dwells in it; for I am the Lord who has made the Glory of my Shekinah dwell in the midst of the children of Israel,” Tg. Ps.-J. Num 35:34; trans. Ernest G. Clarke, 293: “And you shall not defile the land where you are; for my Shekinah dwells in its midst; for I am the Lord whose Shekinah dwells in the midst of the Israelites.” See further m. Sanh. 6:5 (“R. Meir said: When man is sore troubled, what says the Shekinah?” trans. Danby 390); m. ’Abot 3:2 (“If two sit together and words of the Law [are spoken] between them, the Divine Presence [n. 5: The Shekinah] rests between them,” trans. Danby 450). 39 E.g., Dosiadas (FGH 458 fgm 5): νέϕος ἥρπασεν αὐτὸν (Ganymede) εἰς οὐρανόν, “a cloud took him away to heaven”; Apollodorus, Bibl. 2.7.7; LCL 121.270–271 (J. G. Frazer): καιομένης δὲ τῆς πυρᾶς λέγεται νέφος ὑποστὰν μετὰ βροντῆς αὐτὸν (= Heracles) εἰς οὐρανὸν ἀναπέμψαι, “While the pyre was burning, it is said that a cloud passed under Hercules and with a peal of thunder wafted him up to heaven,” Plutarch, Num. 2.1–3 (60); LCL 46.308–309 (B. Perrin): ἐξαίφνης δὲ μεγάλης περὶ τὸν ἀέρα τροπῆς γενομένης καὶ νέφους ἐπὶ τὴν γῆν ἐρείσαντος ἅμα πνεύματι καὶ ζάλῃ, τὸν μὲν ἄλλον ὅμιλον ἐκπλαγέντα συνέβη φυγεῖν καὶ σκεδασθῆναι, τὸν δὲ Ῥωμύλον ἀφανῆ γενέσθαι, καὶ μήτε αὐτὸν ἔτι μήτε σῶμα τεθνηκότος εὑρεθῆναι, “Suddenly there was a great commotion in the air, and a cloud descended upon the earth bringing with it blasts of wind and rain. The throng of common folk were terrified and fled in all directions, but Romulus disappeared, and was never found again either alive or dead.” 40 See Zwiep, Ascension of the Messiah 104–105. 36

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is not to be denied – it is, after all, not a simple rain cloud that transports Jesus to heaven – but this is still miles away from the heavy-loaded “cloud of (divine) glory” language in the rabbinic Shekinah texts. In Matthew’s version of the transfiguration it is “a bright cloud” which “overshadowed them” (νεφέλη φωτεινὴ ἐπεσκίασεν αὐτούς, Matt 17:5), which is reminiscent of Exod 40:35 LXX. The Shekina motif (if not an anachronism) is here, in the words of Davies and Allison, “unmistakable.”41 But Luke’s version is different (Luke 9:34). The Lukan ascension story, moreover, is surprisingly void of glory and glorification terminology. As I have argued elsewhere, the absence of δόξα-terminology at the ascension (ὡς ἀτενίζοντες ἦσαν εἰς τὸν οὐρανόν, Acts 1:10) is striking in comparison with the transfiguration (εἶδον τὴν δόξαν αὐτοῦ, Luke 9:32) and the vision of Stephen (ἀτενίσας εἰς τὸν οὐρανὸν εἶδεν δόξαν θεοῦ, Acts 7:55).42 Luke does not seem to stress the notion of divine presence here with particular emphasis. He does seem to suggest that the cloud of the ascension is one and the same cloud as the transfiguration cloud and the cloud of the coming of the Son of Man at the parousia,43 but here the point is the unity of salvation history rather than any special manifestation of divine presence beyond the “normal” sense of the numenal associated with a rapture. The cloud, moreover, prevents the disciples from seeing Jesus ascending to heaven (νεφέλη ὑπέλαβεν αὐτὸν ἀπὸ τῶν ὀφθαλμῶν αὐτῶν, Acts 1:9). The ascension cloud is a “Begleiterscheinung,” a heavenly means of transport (cf. Ps 104:3), and an obstacle to a view into the heavenly spheres, not a revelatory cloud.44 Although Luke’s (Jewish, Jewish-Hellenistic) readers cannot be blamed for associating the ascension cloud with the cloud of glory if they were aware of the tradition, it is unlikely that this is what Luke wished to convey to his readers. The numenal associations connected with the rapture cloud can be taken as a proto-haggadic motif at most, but this may be pressing the definition too much.

41

W. D. Davies and Dale C. Allison, Matthew VIII–XVIII, vol. 2 of The Gospel according to St. Matthew, 3 vols. (ICC; London: T&T Clark, 1991) 701. So also Donald A. Hagner, Matthew 14–28 (WBC 33B; Dallas, TX: Word, 1995) 494 (“This cloud symbolizes the Shekinah glory, the very presence of God”). 42 Zwiep, Ascension of the Messiah 120; idem, Christ, the Spirit and the Community of God: Essays on the Acts of the Apostles (WUNT 2.293; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010) 61. 43 All in the singular (Luke 9:34–35 ἐγένετο νεφέλη καὶ ἐπεσκίαζεν αὐτούς· ἐφοβήθησαν δὲ ἐν τῷ εἰσελθεῖν αὐτοὺς εἰς τὴν νεφέλην. καὶ φωνὴ ἐγένετο ἐκ τῆς νεφέλης, transfiguration; 21:27 καὶ τότε ὄψονται τὸν υἱὸν τοῦ ἀνθρώπου ἐρχόμενον ἐν νεφέλῃ μετὰ δυνάμεως καὶ δόξης πολλῆς, parousia; Acts 1:9, νεφέλη ὑπέλαβεν αὐτὸν ἀπὸ τῶν ὀφθαλμῶν αὐτῶν, ascension). 44 Different: Keener, Acts 1.727: “One should probably think here of a cloud of glory associated with the Lord (Exod 16:20; 24:16; 40:34–35; Num 16:42; 1 Kgs 8:11; 2 Chr 5:14; Isa 4:5; Ezek 10:4) and with the son of man (Dan 7:13; hence Luke 21:27 via Mark 13:26).”

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3. Σαββάτου ἔχον ὁδόν, “a sabbath day’s journey away” (1:12) After the ascension, the disciples return to Jerusalem “from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a sabbath day’s journey away” (v. 12). In context, the statement is somewhat surprising, since in the chronology of Luke-Acts the ascension clearly does not take place on a Sabbath (although this has been claimed occasionally),45 nor is there any evidence that Luke had access to a source that dated Jesus’s ascension on a Sabbath.46 Strictly speaking, it is the Mount of Olives which is situated “a sabbath’s day journey away” from Jerusalem, but the disciples’ return seems to be in view by implication. A Sabbath day’s journey (σαββάτου ὁδός) “signifies the distance an Israelite might travel on Sabbath, two thousand paces or cubits (= about 800 meters)” (BDAG).47 This is based on a midrashic interpretation of Exod 16:29

45 So apparently John Chrysostom, Hom. Act. 3: Δοκεῖ δέ μοι καὶ ἐν σαββάτῳ γεγονέναι ταῦτα. Οὐ γὰρ ἂν οὕτω καὶ τὸ διάστημα ἐδήλωσεν εἰπὼν, Ἀπὸ ὄρυς τοῦ καλουμένου Ἐλαιῶνος, ὅ ἐστιν ἐγγὺς Ἱερουσαλὴμ, σαββάτου ἔχον ὁδὸν, εἰ μὴ ὡρισμένον τι μῆκος ὁδοιπορίας ἐβάδιζον ἐν τῇ ἡμέρᾳ τοῦ σαββάτου (PG 60:33; TLG); “It seems to me, that it was also on a sabbathday that these things took place; for he would not thus have specified the distance, saying, ‘from the mount called Olivet, which is from Jerusalem a sabbath day’s journey,’ unless they were then going on the sabbath-day a certain definite distance” (NPNF1 11:17). However, if ταῦτα refers to the previous teaching during the forty days, there would not be a chronological conflict. See also Matthias Schneckenburger, in R. Rüetschi, “Beiträge zur Erklärung und Kritik der Apostelgeschichte: aus dem Nachlasse von D[r]. M. (Matthias) Schneckenburger,” TSK 28 (1855) 478–570, where he argues: “die vorliegende geographische Bestimmung einen pragmatischen Zweck haben [dürfte], nämlich anzudeuten, daß die Himmelfahrt am Sabbat geschehen sey, oder genauer, daß, unter Voraussetzung, wie sie allgemein stattfinden mochte, sie sey am Sabbat geschehen, und wie sich wenigstens der Verf. den Abschied Jesu auf einen solchen fallend denkt, die nach Jerusalem vom Berge Zurückkehrenden das Sabbatsgesetz nicht übertreten haben, indem der Gang nach dem Oelberge und von da nach Jerusalem bloß die Weite eins Sabbatsweges umfasse. Daß der Eintritt Christi in den Himmel an einem Sabbat vor sich gegangen sei, war gewiß die passendste, angemessenste Vorstellung” (502). According to Gottfried Jäger, Gedanken und Bemerkungen zur Apostelgeschichte, 3 vols. (Leipzig: Dörffling & Franke, 1891) 1.9–10 (quoted from Hans Hinrich Wendt, Die Apostelgeschichte [KEK III; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 18998] 68), the disciples had been searching for Jesus for three days and then returned to Jerusalem on the sabbath. For more authors defending the opinion that the ascension took place on a Sabbath, see Zwiep, Ascension of the Messiah 108 n.1 (Heinrich Laible, Theodor Zahn, Erwin Preuschen, Bo Reicke, Walter Schmithals). 46 For alternative ascension dates, see Georg Kretschmar, “Himmelfahrt und Pfingsten,” ZKG 66 (1954/55) 209–254; Zwiep, Christ, the Spirit and the Community of God 158–161 (“The Post-Resurrection Appearances of Jesus”); Henk Jan de Jonge, “The Chronology of the Ascension Stories in Luke and Acts,” NTS 59 (2013) 151–171. 47 See on the Sabbath regulations further Emil Schürer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (175 BC–AD 135), rev. and ed. Geza Vermes, Fergus Millar and

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and Num 35:5 (cf. Josh 3:4). The question is why the locality of the ascension is associated with a seemingly incongruent distance indicator. Surprisingly enough, this question is often passed over in silence. Acts scholars give ample treatment of the exact distance indicated by a Sabbath day’s journey – estimates vary from 800 to 1,120 meters48 – but often fail to give a plausible rationale as to why the distance would have to be measured with reference to a Sabbath day’s journey in the first place.49 That the problem was felt, however, seems already evident from the Syriac Peshitta, where the distance from Jerusalem is counted as “seven stadia” (šaḇ‛ā ’esṭǝḏawān), not as a sabbath day’s journey.50 When Luke wrote Acts, the Sabbath was probably no longer a burning issue to most of his readers, but this only sharpens the issue. Scholars that do offer an explanation for the mention of the Sabbath day’s journey usually take one of the following routes. First, provided that Luke did not insert the phrase carelessly into his narrative, as some scholars suggest, “a Sabbath day’s journey” is often taken as a stereotyped expression for a short distance, not to be taken with strict literalness. That is, in principle one could make a Sabbath day’s trip every day of the week.51 But if the point of the expression is that it is a short distance, it should not go unnoticed that ὅ ἐστιν ἐγγὺς Ἰερουσαλήμ makes this very point Matthew Black (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1979) 2.467–475 (“Sabbath Observance”); Michael J. Graetz, Louis Jacobs et al., “Sabbath,” in EncJud (20072) 17.616–622. 48 Darrell L. Bock, Acts (BECNT; Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2007) 76; Keener, Acts 1.735–736. 49 No explanation: Beverly Roberts Gaventa, Acts (ANTC; Nashville: Abingdon, 2003) 67 (“The fact that Luke specifies the distance from Jerusalem suggests that he does not expect the reader to know either Olivet or its location. In addition, the reference to sabbath law implies that the reader has some acquaintance with Mosaic law”); Mikeal C. Parsons, Acts (PaidNTC; Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2008) 29–30; David G. Peterson, The Acts of the Apostles (PilNTC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans; Nottingham: Apollos, 2009) 116. 50 See http://dukhrana.com/peshitta/index.php. A “stadion” is about 192 meters, 7 stadia 1344 meters. Note that according to Josephus the distance between Jerusalem and Mount Olivet was about five or six stadia: Josephus, Ant. 20.8.5 (169); LCL 456.92–93 (L. Feldman): πρὸς ὄρος τὸ προσαγορευόμενον Ἐλαιῶν, ὃ τῆς πόλεως ἄντικρυς κείμενον ἀπέχει στάδια πέντε, “to the mountain called the Mount of Olives, which lies opposite the city at a distance of five furlongs.” Cf. also B.J. 5.2.3 (70); LCL 210.220–221 (H. St. J. Thackeray): προσετέτακτο δ᾿ αὐτοῖς ἓξ ἀπέχοντας τῶν Ἱεροσολύμων σταδίους στρατοπεδεύσασθαι κατὰ τὸ Ἐλαιῶν καλούμενον ὄρος, ὃ τῇ πόλει πρὸς ἀνατολὴν ἀντίκειται μέσῃ φάραγγι βαθείᾳ διειργόμενον, ἣ Κεδρὼν ὠνόμασται, “These troops had orders to encamp at a distance of six furlongs from Jerusalem at the mount called the Mount of Olives, which lies over against the city on the east, being separated from it by a deep intervening ravine called Kedron.” 51 The Dutch GNB translates: “op nog geen kilometer afstand” (“hardly a kilometer away”). Likewise, NBV in a pre-pub edition had “op geringe loopafstand” (“on a short walking distance,” Paralleleditie 1998, 149). This has been retracted in the final edition: “op een sabbatsreis afstand.”

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already with sufficient clarity. In addition, Luke had other options available to indicate the specific measure of distance, such as στάδιον (Luke 24:13: εἰς κώμην ἀπέχουσαν σταδίους ἑξήκοντα ἀπὸ Ἰερουσαλήμ), μίλιον “mile” (cf. Matt 5:41), πῆχυς “cubit” (Luke 12:25; Rev 21:17; BDAG 812) or ὀργυιά “fathom” (Acts 27:28, where it is a nautical term, but in classical Greek the term is also used in a wider sense, LSJ 1246; Montanari 1478–1479). Hence, even if the point is to make a statement about the proximity of the location to Jerusalem, the question remains why this short distance should be measured with explicit reference to a Sabbath day’s journey. In the Jewish sources we have, a Sabbath day’s journey is normally associated with Sabbath laws (works and activities permitted or not on the Sabbath), not (as far as I am aware) in connection with activities (“work”) on any other day of the week.52 52 See m. ‘Erub. 4:3; trans. Danby 126: “If a man went out [beyond the Sabbath limit] on a permissible errand and it was then told him that the [needful] act had been done already, he has the right to move within two thousand cubits in any direction; if he was within the Sabbath limit it is as though he had not gone forth; for whoever goes out to deliver [one that is in danger] may return to his place [of starting].” Also 5:7–9 (Danby 128–129); m. Soṭah 5:3 (Danby 298; Bonsirven, Textes rabbiniques 379, no. 1456); Mekilta Exodus 16:29 (59a), in Mechilta de-Rabbi Simon b. Jochai: Ein halachischer und haggadischer Midrasch zu Exodus nach handschriftlichen und gedruckten Quellen reconstruirt und mit erklärenden Anmerkungen und einer Einleitung versehen, ed. D. Hoffmann (Frankfurt am Main: Kauffmann, 1905); Mek. Ex. 16:32 (59b); trans. Bonsirven, Textes rabbiniques 26 (no. 111); Tg. Yer. I on Exod 16:29; b. ‘Erub. 51a (Soncino Eng. 354: “a radius of two thousand cubits”); y. Ber. 59a.40; trans. Bonsirven, Textes rabbiniques 193 (no. 781). At Qumran, we find stricter regulations. A Sabbath day’s trip is a restrictive measurement. See (Damascus Document) CD-A 10:21: “ 21 the sabbath . He is not to walk more than one thousand cubits (= 1120 m, AZ] outside his city,” text and trans. Florentino García Martínez and Eibert J.C. Tigchelaar (eds.), The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition, 2 vols. (Leiden: Brill, 1997–1998; corrected paperback ed. 2000) 1.568–569 (= DSSSE); (Damascus Document) CD-A 11:5–6: “… on the sabbath [blank] No-one should go after an animal to pasture it outside his city, except for 6 two thousand cubits [= 2240 m, AZ],” DSSSE 1.568–569; (Damascus Document) CD-A 11:5–6: “on the Sabbath. Let no man walk after an animal to graze it outside his town more than two thousand cubits,” text and trans. Damascus Document, War Scroll, and Related Documents, vol. 2 of The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations, ed. James H. Charlesworth (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck; Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1995) 46–49; cf. 49 n.165: “The 2000-cubit extent of the open space in Num 35:5 is here applied to grazing, while the lesser limit of 1000 cubits (Num 35:4) was applied above (10.21) to the ambulation of people. However, the placement of latrines at a distance of 2000 cubits from the camp in 1QM 7.6 may indicate that one was allowed to reach them even on the Sabbath. For the 3000cubit distance between the ‫ מקום יד‬and the city in 11QTemple 46.16, see Y. Yadin, The Temple Scroll, vol. 1, pp. 298–300.” Cf. also Louis Jacobs, Jewish Biblical Exegesis (The Chain of Tradition Series 6; New York: Behrman, 1973) 139, quoting Obadaiah ben Jacob Sforno (1567): “‘Remember the sabbath day.’ Remember the sabbath day at all times, when you engage in your weekday pursuits. This has the same force as: ‘Remember what Amalek did to thee’ (Deuteronomy

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Second, as redaction-critical studies have demonstrated long ago, Luke clearly wants to restrict Jesus’s post-resurrection appearances to Jerusalem and its vicinity.53 The question then is whether the motif of the Sabbath day’s journey is congruent with Luke’s narrative aims. Craig Keener, following Johnson, suggests that the mention of the Sabbath day’s journey is “to show their proximity to the holy city (fulfilling Luke 24:49) but also to indicate that they continued to observe the law (cf. 23:54–56).”54 This is also the conclusion of Joseph Fitzmyer, who claims that “Luke is concerned to depict the apostles as Christians still observant of their Jewish obligations.”55 Isaac Oliver, in a thorough and informative discussion of the issue,56 has argued that respecting the Sabbath limits in this verse suggests that not only the narrative characters are “inscribed within a world of Torah observance,” but that Luke himself (who, according to Oliver, was a Jew)57 would respect the Sabbath limits.58 But this remains unsatisfying since there is no indication that the return took place on a Sabbath or, conversely, that there was an obligation to observe the sabbath on any other day of the week. Hence no law has been transgressed. Third, the least unsatisfactory explanation to get out of the impasse seems to me that Luke wants to make clear (no more than) the Christian community’s proximity to Judaism,59 with Jerusalem as the place where it all began, in

25:17) and: ‘Observe the month of Abib’ (Deuteronomy 16:1).” But this is a slightly different pointe. 53 Hans Conzelmann, Die Mitte der Zeit: Studien zur Theologie des Lukas (BHT 17; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1954, 19776) 66–86. 54 Keener, Acts 1.735, following Luke Timothy Johnson, The Acts of the Apostles (SP 5; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1992) 33. 55 Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Acts of the Apostles: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 31; New York: Doubleday, 1998) 213. 56 Isaac W. Oliver, Torah Praxis after 70 CE: Reading Matthew and Luke as Jewish Texts (WUNT 2.355; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013) 194–204. 57 Ibid., 439–451. 58 Ibid., 202. 59 Daniel Marguerat, Les Actes des Apôtres (1–12) (CNT 5a; Geneva: Labor et Fides, 2007) 49: “à souligner sa proximité [de Jérusalem]… une ‘sainte distance,’ qui n’équivaut pas à un déplacement.” Otto Bauernfeind, Kommentar und Studien zur Apostelgeschichte, ed. Volker Metelmann (WUNT 22; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1980) 23 (1939 commentary): “Unsere Erzählung liebt es bisweilen, für heilige Geschichte auch heiliges Maß zu verwenden” (unfortunately without references, but one could think of the fifty days of Pentecost as an obvious example). Joseph Barber Lightfoot, The Acts of the Apostles: A Newly Discovered Commentary, vol. 1 of The Lightfoot Legacy, ed. Ben Witherington III and Todd D. Still (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2014) 78: “A Sabbath day’s journey is a measure of length – very natural in describing the position of a place not that distant from the mother city. Josephus calls the distance of the Mt. of Olives in one place 5, in another 6 stadia. Epiphanius reckons a Sabbath day’s journey at 6 stadia. The Peshitta probably by an error, translates it

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line with the prophets: “For out of Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the LORD from Jerusalem” (Isa 2:3; Mic 4:2 NRSV). The reference to the Sabbath day’s journey does add couleur locale but does so in an associative (rabbinic) and imprecise way to strengthen the very point. Luke, at any rate, does not seem to be aware of the problem. 4. The first speech of Peter as a midrash on Pss 68:26 LXX and 108:8b LXX (1:16–22) As I have argued elsewhere, following the work of Frédéric Manns and others, the first speech of Peter (Acts 1:16–22) is structured as a typical midrash.60 The two texts from Scripture on which the midrashic interpretation is built are taken from the Septuagint with minor variations and strategically placed in the very center of the pericope.61 The first quotation, v. 20a (γενηθήτω ἡ ἔπαυλις αὐτοῦ ἔρημος καὶ μὴ ἔστω ὁ κατοικῶν ἐν αὐτῇ) is taken from Ps 68:26 LXX and interprets Judas’s defection as a fulfilment of this prophetic word from Scripture.62 The switch from the plural ἡ ἔπαυλις αὐτῶν (Ps 68:26 LXX) to the singular ἡ ἔπαυλις αὐτοῦ (Acts 1:20) may well be the result of a ‫ קל וחמר‬argument: what applies to the unrighteous in general is all the more applicable to Judas, the betrayer of Jesus. The second quotation, v. 20b (τὴν ἐπισκοπὴν αὐτοῦ λαβέτω ἕτερος) comes from Ps 108:8b LXX, recast as a divine injunction for the replacement of Judas. As a matter of detail, the words ὅτι κατηριθμημένος ἦν ἐν ἡμῖν, “for (cj. when) he was numbered among us” (v. 17), though strictly speaking not a haggadic motif, does bring us back to Palestinian (Aramaic-speaking) soil. In Judas and the Choice of a Successor to Matthias, I have suggested that ὅτι in this verse may (stress on may) be explained by a mistranslation of the Aramaic temporal conjunction ‫ = ד‬ὅτε, “when.” Judas “became a guide for those who arrested Jesus (not because but) when he was numbered” among the apostles.63 Although a simple scribal confusion of ὅτι/ὅτε may also explain here ‘7 stadia.’ It is rather probable that the Syriac translates the exact distance and so inserted it in place of translating the original.” 60 Frédéric Manns, “Un midrash chrétienne: le récit de la mort de Judas (Matt 27:3–10 et Acts 1:16–20),” RevSR 54 (1980) 197–203; repr. in idem, Une Approche juive du Nouveau Testament (IniB; Paris: Cerf, 1998) 101–109; Geza Vermes, The Changing Faces of Jesus (London: Allen Lane, Penguin, 2000) 127 (calling it a pesher); Arie W. Zwiep, Judas and the Choice of Matthias: A Study on Context and Concern of Acts 1:15–26 (WUNT 2.187; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004) 25–27, 83–96, 135–158. 61 See Zwiep, Judas and the Choice of Matthias 58. 62 Ibid., 153. 63 See on this, Zwiep, Judas and the Choice of Matthias 140–146. Taken up in Jan Krans, Bert Jan Lietaert Peerbolte et al. (eds.), The Amsterdam Database of New Testament Conjectural Emendation (http://ntvmr.uni-muenster.de/nt-conjectures, accessed 7 November 2019), under Acts 1:17, cj14230. However, it should not go unnoticed that the suggested conjecture

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the complex jump of thought (which in this verse is extremely rare), the wider Aramaic setting of the report of Judas’s death and burial in v. 19 (Ἁκελδαμάχ, τοῦτ’ ἔστιν χωρίον αἵματος) supports an Aramaic mistranslation, either in actual practice or in mind. 5. Ἁκελδαμάχ, τοῦτ’ ἔστιν χωρίον αἵματος, “Hakeldama, that is, Field of Blood” (1:19) That elements of the brief episode of the demise of Judas in the speech of Peter come from Palestinian (Aramaic-speaking) soil is not to be doubted.64 Both Acts and Matthew refer to a “Field of Blood” (Aram. ‫ )חקל דמא‬in connection with Judas’s end (Acts 1:19: Ἁκελδαμάχ, τοῦτ’ ἔστιν χωρίον αἵματος; Matt 27:8: ὁ ἀγρὸς ἐκεῖνος ἀγρὸς αἵματος ἕως τῆς σήμερον) but they give different explanations of the name. According to Matthew, the field is so called because it was bought with blood money, that is, with the thirty pieces of silver with which Judas betrayed innocent blood, the blood of Jesus. According to Acts, the field received its name because of the gruesome event that had taken place there, that is, the shedding of Judas’s own blood.65 The implied reader will take Luke’s somewhat distantiating comment that the Field “in their language” was called Hakeldama as an indication that the story goes back to an early Jewish (Jerusalem?) tradition and hence (given the fall of the city in 70 CE) to early times. The creative treatment of the naming of the plot comes close to the associative character of much rabbinic (haggadic) exegesis.66

is now attested in witness 2805 (first hand, but corrected). See Acts of the Apostles, vol. 3 of the Novum Testamentum Graecum: Editio Critica Maior, ed. Holger Strutwolf et al. (Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 2017), Part 1/1 (Text Chapters 1–14) 16–17. The word is absent in P56, P74, 323S, 607, 1890S2, 2138, L587 and L2010, perhaps indicative of its awkwardness (ECM 3/1.1, 16). 64 See, e.g., Gerd Lüdemann, Das frühe Christentum nach den Traditionen der Apostelgeschichte: Ein Kommentar (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1987) 37–43; Günther Schwarz, Jesus und Judas: Aramaistische Untersuchungen zur Jesus-Judas-Überlieferung der Evangelien und der Apostelgeschichte (BWANT 123; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1980); Fitzmyer, Acts 218–220; Zwiep, Judas and the Choice of Matthias 27–29, 77–125. Cf. also Roger David Aus, “The Name Judas ‘Iscariot’ and Ahitophel in Judaic Tradition,” in idem, My Name is “Legion”: Palestinian Judaic Traditions in Mark 5:1–20 and Other Gospel Texts (Studies in Judaism; Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 2003) 155–208. 65 Zwiep, Judas and the Choice of Matthias 90–91, 149–150. On the various legends of Judas’s death, see Arie W. Zwiep, “Judas Iskariot: de rare sprongen van een kat met (minstens) negen levens,” KeTh 71 (2020) 37–54. 66 See Arie W. Zwiep, Tussen tekst en lezer: een historische inleiding in de bijbelse hermeneutiek, vol. 1: De vroege kerk – Schleiermacher (Amsterdam: VU University Press, 2009, 20174) 79–122.

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6. Rabbinic exegetical techniques in Peter’s Pentecost Speech (2:14–36)67 While the speech of Peter clearly demonstrates the influence of GreekHellenistic rhetoric and speech-writing conventions,68 it also bears the typical features of a synagogue sermon.69 The speech takes the form of what E. Earle Ellis through the years has called “explicit midrash.”70 The term, to be sure, is a modern one, but stands for an approach that can be found in a number of ancient Jewish texts.71 According to Ellis, an explicit midrash can be recognized by a more or less fixed scheme that draws from synagogal practice. It normally starts with a theme and an initial text (the text for the day), followed by a second text, the proem or “opening” for the discourse. The actual exposition includes supplementary quotations, parables and other commentary with verbal links to the initial and final texts. The final text usually repeats or alludes to the text for the day, sometimes with a concluding application.72 Typical examples of this genre include Pesiq. Rab. 33:7,73 44:7,74 and, in a first-century context, 4QFlor (4Q174)75 and Philo, Sacr. 21– 27 (76–87).76 67

Cf. Jan Willem Doeve, Jewish Hermeneutics in the Synoptic Gospels and Acts (GTB 24; Assen: Van Gorcum, 1954); Zwiep, Tussen tekst en lezer 1.85–97. 68 Cf. George A. Kennedy, New Testament Interpretation through Rhetorical Criticism (Studies in Religion; Chapel Hill, NC: North Carolina University Press, 1984) 114–140; Winter and Clarke, Ancient Literary Setting, passim; Ben Witherington III, The Acts of the Apostles: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans; Carlisle: Paternoster, 1998) 137–139. 69 See Acts 2:14–36 as a “proem homily” on Joel 2:32 (!) (Bowker) or explicit midrash (Ellis, next note); John W. Bowker, “Speeches in Acts: A Study in Proem and Yelammedenu Form,” NTS 14 (1967–1968) 96–111; cf. Doeve, Jewish Hermeneutics 168–176. 70 E. Earle Ellis, “How the New Testament Uses the Old,” in New Testament Interpretation: Essays on Principles and Methods, ed. Ian Howard Marshall (Exeter: Paternoster, 1977, 19792) 199– 219 (203–206); repr. in Ellis, Prophecy and Hermeneutic in Early Christianity: New Testament Essays (WUNT 18; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1978) 147–172 (154–159); idem, “Biblical Interpretation in the New Testament Church,” in Mikra: Text, Translation, Reading and Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity, ed. Martin Jan Mulder (CRINT 2/1; Assen: Van Gorcum; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990) 691– 725 (706–709); repr. in Ellis, The Old Testament in Early Christianity: Canon and Interpretation in the Light of Modern Research (WUNT 54; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1991; repr. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 1992) 77–121 (96–100). 71 For a general introduction to midrash, see Günter Stemberger, Midrasch: Vom Umgang der Rabbinen mit der Bibel; Einführung, Texte, Erläuterungen (Munich: Beck, 1989); Moshe David Herr, “Midrash,” in EncJud (20072) 14.182–185, and the various CRINT-volumes. 72 Cf. also Fitzmyer, Acts 249. 73 Hebrew text in www.sefaria.org. Trans. William G. Braude 2.643. 74 Ibid., 2.776–777. 75 Text and trans. DSSSE 1.352–355. 76 Text and trans. LCL 227.150–161 (F. H. Colson); with Julio Trebolle Barrera, The Jewish Bible and the Christian Bible: An Introduction to the History of the Bible, trans. from the

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If we apply this model to Peter’s Pentecost speech, the constituting elements of an explicit midrash can be easily recognized: – Theme (vv. 14b–16) and initial text: vv. 17–21 (Joel 3:1–5 LXX) – Exposition: vv. 22–24 – Supplementary text: vv. 25–28 (= Ps 15:8–11 LXX)77 – Exposition: vv. 29–33 – Final text and application: vv. 34–36 (= Ps 109:1 LXX, cf. the linking words ἐκ δεξιῶν μου, vv. 25, 34; and καθίσαι, v. 30, κάθου, v. 34) The quotations from Scripture are taken from the Septuagint with some alterations. The texts are not taken from the Law but from the Prophets, which suggests that this is an early Christian midrash. On the level of detail, some other typically rabbinic features can be detected. V. 16 τοῦτό ἐστιν is a typical pesher marker.78 According to Ellis, the adversative ἀλλά here “displays Jewish ancestry” in that it introduces “a citation to correct, qualify or underscore a preceding statement,”79 but this may be overly subtle. V. 17 (the replacement of μετὰ ταῦτα with ἐν ταῖς ἐσχάταις ἡμέραις, λέγει ὁ θεός), is an example of what Ellis calls implicit midrash.80 In v. 28, the last line of the psalm (Ps 15:11b LXX) is left out: τερπνότητες ἐν τῇ δεξιᾷ σου εἰς τέλος, but the notion of “the right side” comes back in v. 33 (τῇ δεξιᾷ) and v. 34 (ἐκ δεξιῶν) and – in line with rabbinic exegetical practice – is implied in the context. 7. Λύσας τὰς ὠδῖνας τοῦ θανάτου, “loosing the pains/cords of death” (2:24)81 Luke modifies or expands the early Christian creedal statement that “him God raised (from the dead)” (ὃν ὁ θεὸς ἀνέστησεν) by the participial clause λύσας

Spanish by Wilfred G. E. Watson (Leiden: Brill; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, [1993] 1998) 493. For a discussion and more examples of explicit midrash, see Zwiep, Tussen tekst en lezer 1.109–111; Herr, “Midrash” 183–184 (“The Early Midrashim [the Classical Amoraic Midrashim]”). 77 On this psalm and its use in Acts, see Alphonso Groenewald, “Psalm 16 (LXX Ps 15) and the Acts of the Apostles,” OTE 21 (2008) 89–109 (Part I), 345–357 (Part II). 78 Cf. Richard N. Longenecker, Biblical Exegesis in the Apostolic Period (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1975) 100; Ellis, Old Testament 83–84. 79 Ellis, Old Testament 84–85. 80 Ibid., 92–96. 81 Kirsopp Lake and Henry J. Cadbury, The Acts of the Apostles: English Translation and Commentary, vol. 4 of The Beginnings of Christianity, Part I, ed. F. J. Foakes Jackson and Kirsopp Lake (London: Macmillan, 1933), 23; Georg Bertram, “ὠδίν, ὠδίνω,” in TWNT, ed. Gerhard Kittel and Gerhard Friedrich, 10 vols. (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1973) 9.668–675; Robert G. Bratcher, “Having Loosed the Pangs of Death,” BiTr (1959) 18–20; Wilcox, Semitisms 46–48 (eschatological messianic woes); Darrell L. Bock, Proclamation from Prophecy and Pattern: Lucan Old Testament Christology (JSNTSup 12; Sheffield: JSOT, 1987) 169– 172; idem, Acts 122–123; BDAG 443, 607; Keener, Acts 1.943–944.

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τὰς ὠδῖνας τοῦ θανάτου, the most natural translation of which seems to be “having loosed the pains of death.”82 As BDAG suggests, “λ[ύσας] τ[ὰς] ὠδῖνας τ[οῦ] θανάτου must mean in its context: (God) brought the pangs to an end” (BDAG 607). The underlying metaphor, however, has troubled interpreters for a long time. The Greek noun ὠδίν, a later form of ὠδίς,83 means (usually in the plural) “labor, pains of childbirth,”84 the Hebrew equivalent of which is ‫“ ֵח ֶבל‬labour pains.”85 So the question is what “having loosed” (λύσας) means in this specific context. However, if the underlying Hebrew expression is vocalized as ‫ ֶח ֶבל‬, the meaning is “the cords/ropes of death” rather than “the pangs (or pains) of death,” which looks like a more natural metaphor: Death (personified) held Jesus captive, but God released him by loosing the cords that held him bound. But the Greek simply cannot mean this.86 According to Haenchen, therefore, λύσας τὰς ὠδῖνας τοῦ θανάτου is a Septuagintal misunderstanding (inadvertently?) taken over by Luke.87 However, the search for haggadic motifs cannot (or at least should not) stop here as there is reason to believe that a more complex word play is at work which goes beyond the ignorance or not of a translator (LXX) or the author of Acts. What we have here is a learned mixture of metaphors, viz. a hunting metaphor and a childbirth metaphor, a mixed metaphor which is also found in rabbinic sources. Although I realize that the meaning of a metaphor does not come from an analysis of the component parts (sememes) in isolation,88 it

82

NRSV has “having freed him from death,” with a note: “Gk the pains of death.” The etymology of ὠδίς is unclear, see Robert Beekes, with the assistance of Lucien van Beek, Etymological Dictionary of Greek (Leiden Indo-European Etymological Dictionary Series 10; Leiden: Brill, 2009) 2.1675–1676, s.v. ὠδίς. 84 Montanari, Brill Dictionary of Ancient Greek 2415; cf. BDAG 1102: “experience of pains associated with childbirth.” 85 The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament, ed. Ludwig Koehler, Walter Baumgartner, and Johann J. Stamm; trans. and ed. Mervyn E. J. Richardson, 4 vols. (Leiden: Brill, 1994–1999) 1.286 (= HALOT); The Dictionary of Classical Hebrew, ed. David J.A. Clines, 9 vols. (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1993–2014) 3.152 (= DCH). 86 With Bock, Proclamation 171, contra Bratcher, “Having Loosed.” Alternative Greek words for “cords” are ἅλυσις “chain” (Montanari, Brill Dictionary of Ancient Greek 99); δεσμός (pl.) “bonds, chains, fetters” (LXX ‫ ;) ֶח ֶבל‬σειρά “rope, cord; rope with a noose, lasso” (Montanari 1900) (LXX ‫ ;) ֶח ֶבל‬πέδη “fetters, chains on the feet” (Montanari 1600) (LXX ‫זֵ ק‬, ‫כּ ֶבל‬, ֶ ‫חשׁת‬ ֶ ְ‫ ;)נ‬σχοινίον “rope, cord; cable (of a ship)” (Montanari 2071) (LXX ‫) ֶח ֶבל‬. Cf. the various entries in Takamitsu Muruoka, Hebrew/Aramaic Index to the Septuagint (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1998). 87 Ernst Haenchen, Die Apostelgeschichte (KEK III; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1956, 19777) 182, n. 13: “die LXX genügt zum Verständnis unserer Stelle durchaus.” 88 Cf. Jésus Peláez and Juan Mateos, New Testament Lexicography: Introduction–Theory– Method, translated, annotated, and supplemented by Andrew Bowden, ed. David S. du Toit (FoSub 6; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2018) 65: “the individual components of paralexemes cannot be analyzed separately.” 83

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may be helpful to disentangle the constituent parts if only for pragmatic reasons. a. (verb +) ὠδῖνες (τοῦ) θανάτου / ᾅδου as a hunting metaphor (threatening) The expression (τὰς) ὠδῖνας (τοῦ) θανάτου is found in the LXX, where the anarthrous ὠδῖνες θανάτου occurs in 2 Sam 22:6, Ps 17:4 (cf. v. 5 ὠδῖνες ᾅδου) (= 18:4–5 MT), and Ps 114:3 (= 116:3 MT), but not in combination with λύω or another verb of freeing or releasing. Verbs associated with ὠδῖνες θανάτου are rather κυκλόω,89 περιέχω,90 and περικυκλόω.91 In all these cases the underlying Hebrew is a form of ‫חבל‬, which vocalized as ‫ ֶח ֶבל‬means “bonds, cords.” The underlying idea is that the petitioner (the righteous person) is being trapped by death as hunters surround their prey. (Being surrounded by) the cords/snares of death, in other words, is a hunting metaphor to describe imminent, life-threatening danger.92 The ὠδῖνας θανάτου (or ὠδῖνες ᾅδου “of Hades”) are set in parallel with such calamaties as συντριμμοὶ θανάτου (“troubles of death,” LEH 597), χείμαρροι ἀνομίας (“torrents of lawlessness”), παγίδες θανάτου (“snares of death”), and κίνδυνοι ᾅδου (“dangers of Hades”).93 Cf. also Tg. Ps. 116:3 (trans. Stec, 207): “The infirmities of death surrounded me, and the sorrows of Sheol found me; distress and anguish did I find.”94 b. ὠδῖνας λύω – a childbirth metaphor, loosing the bonds of a woman’s womb (liberative) The expression ὠδῖνας λύω is also used in the context of childbirth. Perhaps “loosing birth pangs” implies the idea of the womb consisting of cords, hence the idea that birth is a painful, yet liberative event. This use is found in the following texts:

89 2 Sam 22:6, “to encircle, to surround, to compass,” LEH 359 – translating ‫“ ָס ַבב‬to surround.” 90 Ps 17(18):4; 114(116):3 translating ‫“ ָא ַפף‬to encompass.” 91 Cf. 17(18):5, translating ‫“ ָס ַבב‬to surround.” 92 Cf. Heinz-Josef Fabry, “‫ חבל‬/ ḥbl I,” in vol. 4 of TDOT, ed. G. J. Botterweck and Helmer Ringgren, trans. David E. Green (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1980) 176 (III. Rope as a Metaphor). 93 So: ὅτι περιέσχον με συντριμμοὶ θανάτου, χείμαρροι ἀνομίας ἐθάμβησάν με· ὠδῖνες θανάτου ἐκύκλωσάν με, προέφθασάν με σκληρότητες θανάτου (2 Sam 22:5–7 LXX). περιέσχον με ὠδῖνες θανάτου, καὶ χείμαρροι ἀνομίας ἐξετάραξάν με ὠδῖνες ᾅδου περιεκύκλωσάν με, προέφθασάν με παγίδες θανάτου (Ps 17:5–6 LXX). περιέσχον με ὠδῖνες θανάτου, κίνδυνοι ᾅδου εὕροσάν με· θλῖψιν καὶ ὀδύνην εὗρον (Ps 114:3 LXX). And cf. Job 21:17 οὐ μὴν δὲ ἀλλὰ καὶ ἀσεβῶν λύχνος σβεσθήσεται, ἐπελεύσεται δὲ αὐτοῖς ἡ καταστροφή, ὠδῖνες δὲ αὐτοὺς ἕξουσιν ἀπὸ ὀργῆς. 94 Tg. Ps. 116:3, Eng. Stec 207.

Haggadic Motifs in Acts 1–3

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Do you know when the mountain goats give birth? Have you observed the calving of the deer (ἐφύλαξας δὲ ὠδῖνας ἐλάφων, lit. “the birth pangs of the deer”)? Can you number the months that they fulfill, and do you know the time when they give birth (ὠδῖνας δὲ αὐτῶν ἔλυσας, lit. “having loosed their birthpangs”), when they crouch to give birth to their offspring, and are delivered of their young (ὠδῖνας αὐτῶν ἐξαποστελεῖς)? Job 39:1–3 LXX, translation NRSV slightly adapted).95 Then in the perfumed temenos Aegle bore a child, and the son of Zeus, together with the Fates and Lachesis, the noble midwife, eased her birth pains (ἔλυσεν ὠδῖνα).96 But he shall bring thee to the plain of his nativity, that land celebrated above others by the Greeks, where his mother, skilled in wrestling, having cast into Tartarus the former queen, delivered her of him in travail of secret birth (ὠδῖνας ἐξέλυσε λαθραίας γονῆς), escaping the child-devouring unholy feast of her spouse….97 ὅτε ἔτικτεν ἡ Λητὼ τοὺς θεοὺς, λυθῆναι τὰς ὠδῖνας αὐτῇ…. “quum Latona deos enixura esset, partu ejus deos in lucem editos fuisset” (of the cessation of labour pains).98 [W]hen Alcmena was in labour and unable to bring her child to birth, the marten ran by her and loosed the bonds of her womb (τοὺς τῶν ὠδίνων λῦσαι δεσμούς), so that Heracles was delivered and at once began to crawl.99 Ἄρτι τοῦ Διὸς μητρικὰς ὠδῖνας λύσαντος καὶ προελθόντος εἰς φῶς κλέπει μὲν αὐτὸν ἡ μήτηρ κτλ. “Zeus has just loosed the bonds of the mother (i.e. a lioness) and brought (the cub) to daylight, or the mother conceals him etc.”100

c. A mixed metaphor In the Apostolic Fathers, Polycarp has a phrase quite similar to the one in Acts: ὃν ἔγειρεν ὁ θεὸς, λύσας τὰς ὠδῖνας τοῦ ᾅδου,101 a reading which is attested in the Western tradition of Acts (D latt syp mae bo).102 That Polycarp’s phrase comes from Acts is possible but not entirely certain and less relevant for our present purpose.103 More relevant for our search for haggadic motifs is the fact that the mixed metaphor104 – notably the association of the 95 Εἰ ἔγνως καιρὸν τοκετοῦ τραγελάφων πέτρας, ἐφύλαξας δὲ ὠδῖνας ἐλάφων; ἠρίθμησας δὲ αὐτῶν μῆνας πλήρεις τοκετοῦ, ὠδῖνας δὲ αὐτῶν ἔλυσας; ἐξέθρεψας δὲ αὐτῶν τὰ παιδία ἔξω φόβου; ὠδῖνας αὐτῶν ἐξαποστελεῖς. 96 Inscriptiones Graecae 4/1 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1929) 82 (Asclepieum, Hymni, no. 128, line 49–50, 280 BCE); trans. ToposText (www.topostext.org). 97 Lycophron, Alexandra 1198; LCL 129.418–419 (A. W. Mair and G. R. Mair). 98 Himerius, Or. 18.1; ed. J. F. Boissonade 84. 99 Aelian, Nat. an. 12.5; LCL 449.12–13 (A. F. Scholfield). 100 Eutecnius 3; ed. Otto Tüselmann, Die Paraphrase des Euteknios zu Oppians Kynegetica (GGAbh, NS 4/1; Berlin: Weidmann, 1900) 30 (of uncertain date, probably 3–5 century CE) (my translation). 101 Pol. Phil. 1.2; ed. and trans. Michael W. Holmes, The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 1992, 20073) 280–281. 102 See for a fuller attestation, Faure, Actes des Apôtres 36–37. 103 Haenchen, Apostelgeschichte 21, for one, claims: “Beide Stellen sind Varianten einer alten kerygmatischen Formel, die liturgisch erweitert ist. Das zeigt sich in den verschiedenen Abweichungen im einzelnen.” 104 The term comes from Bock, Proclamation 171–172: “a mixed metaphor.”

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cords/snares of death and childbirth – is not only found in Greek-Hellenistic sources, but also in Palestinian (or at least Semitic) sources. In the Dead Sea scrolls, we find the following passage: For children come through the breakers of death | and the woman expectant with a boy is racked by her pangs, for through the breakers of death she gives birth to a male, and through the pangs of Sheol (‫ )ובחבלי שאול‬there emerges from the «crucible» of the pregnant woman a wonderful counsellor with his strength, and the boy is freed from the breakers.105

In the Targum on the Psalms, it says: Distress surrounded me like a woman who sits upon the birthstool (…), and she does not have the strength to give birth, and is in danger of dying (…); a company of oppressors terrified me. An army of sinners surrounded me; those who are girt with weapons of killing confronted me.106

The text is paralleled in Tg. 2 Sam 22:5: For distress surrounded me, like a woman who sits on a birth-stool (‫)על מתברא‬, and she lacks the strength to give birth, and she is in danger of dying.107

It may not be a coincidence that the expression the snares/pains of death in Psalm 17 (v. 7 καὶ ἐν τῷ θλίβεσθαί με ἐπεκαλεσάμην τὸν κύριον καὶ πρὸς τὸν θεόν μου ἐκέκραξα), 2 Sam 22:77 (ἐν τῷ θλίβεσθαί με ἐπικαλέσομαι κύριον), and Ps 114:4 (καὶ τὸ ὄνομα κυρίου ἐπεκαλεσάμην ῏Ω κύριε, ῥῦσαι τὴν ψυχήν μου) is connected with a “calling upon (the name of) the Lord,” – as is the case in the Acts of the Apostles (v. 21). Conform to rabbinical practice, the wider context of the original quotation resonates. Therefore, in sum, even though we cannot be certain that the author of Acts was aware of the multifaceted wordplay, “loosing τὰς ὠδῖνας of death” seems to have been a mixed metaphor (also in Hebrew and Aramaic) already in use before Luke adopted it in Peter’s speech. Its associative force or double

105

1QHa X, 8–10; DSSSE 1.164–165. Tg. Ps. 18:5–6, Eng. Stec 49. 107 Text and trans. Eveline van Staalduine-Sulman, The Targum of Samuel (SAIS 1; Leiden: Brill, 2002) 645: “The expansion is based on a Midrashic explanation of Hebrew ‫משׁבר‬. It is first translated with ‘distress,’ but also vocalized as ‫‘ ַמ ְשׁ ֵבּר‬birth-stool’ (>3) [“mouth of the womb” Holloday 218, AZ]. This explanation appears to be the standardized translation of the Hebrew word (cf. 2 Kgs 19:3; Isa. 37:3; Hos. 13:13)” (646, with reference to H. Helfgott, Sámuel második könyve Tárgumának viszonya a maszórai szöveghez [Budapest, 1940] 29, non vidi). Cf. 2 Kgs 19:3 / Isa 37:3: “This day is a day of distress, of rebuke, and of disgrace; ַ ‫) ַﬠ‬, and there is no strength to bring them forth.” Hos children have come to the birth (‫ד־מ ְשׁ ֵבּר‬ ֵ ‫ ) ֶח ְב ֵלי‬come for him, but he is an unwise son; for at 13:13–14: ‘The pangs of childbirth (‫יוֹל ָדה‬ the proper time he does not present himself at the mouth of the womb (‫) ְבּ ִמ ְשׁ ַבּר ָבּנִ ים‬. Shall I ransom them from the power of Sheol? Shall I redeem them from Death?” 106

Haggadic Motifs in Acts 1–3

329

entendre helped the author to broaden the application of the original text in an associative way.108 8. Μετανοήσατε καὶ ἐπιστρέψατε, ὅπως ἂν… ἀποστείλῃ τὸν προκεχειρισμένον ὑμῖν χριστὸν, “Repent and turn [to God] so that… he may send the Messiah appointed for you” (3:19–20) In Peter’s Temple discourse, the Jewish audience is called to repentance “so that… he (God) may send the Messiah appointed for you, that is, Jesus” (ὅπως ἂν… ἀποστείλῃ τὸν προκεχειρισμένον ὑμῖν χριστὸν Ἰησοῦν, v. 20). The idea that the timing of a future coming of the Messiah (in Christian terms: Jesus’s return) depends on the conversion of the Jewish people – if we may read the text in such a collective sense – is quite exceptional in the New Testament (Rom 11:25–26 comes nearest), especially so in Luke-Acts, where God is said to have set (already) the “times and periods… by his own authority” (1:7). Cf. Mark 13:20, where it is said that the Lord has (already) cut short (ἐκολόβωσεν) the days of the great tribulation “for the sake of the elect” (not in the Lukan parallel). Although the idea of speeding up or delaying the coming of the Messiah by repentance/conversion of the Jewish people is not firmly attested in the earliest Christian sources, there is no reason to exclude the possibility that some Christians were in effect thinking along these lines, especially in the light of rabbinic conversations of a similar type. In fact, as Craig Keener persuasively argues, “The earliest Christians apparently expected, or at least hoped, that this repentance of Israel and consequently Christ’s return from heaven would occur almost immediately… [they] connected Jesus’s return with Israel’s repentance and viewed the delay of the latter (for some, providentially allowing the Gentile mission) as the primary factor delaying Christ’s return, cf. Rom 11:15, 25–26).”109 If so, this inner-Christian debate ties in with similar debates in rabbinic literature, in which the arrival of the end – is it fixed or is it dependent on cer-

108

Cf. Walter Radl, “ὠδίν, ὠδίνω,” in vol. 3 of EWNT, ed. Horst Balz and Gerhard Schneider, 3 vols. in one (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1980–1983, 20113) 1210: “Die ‘Wehen des Todes’ hat Gott nach Apg 2,24 bei der Auferweckung Jesu ‘gelöst,’ d.h. zu Ende gebracht… Lukas denkt offenbar daran, daß der Tod Jesus ebensowenig festhalten konnte (vgl. V. 24b) wie eine Schwangere ihr kind, und spricht deshalb nicht von ‘Stricken’ (Ps 18,5…), sondern (wie Ps 17,5 LXX) von Wehen (…).’” 109 Acts 3:19–21 as a whole is Lukan but contains traditional material (Barbi, Cristo celeste 38–41 and passim, following Lohfink; Pervo, Acts 107–108; Keener, Acts 2.1105– 1112). Also Ferdinand Hahn, “Das Problem alter christologischer Überlieferungen in der Apostelgeschichte unter besonderer Berücksichtigung von Act 3,19–21,” in Les Actes des Apôtres: Tradition, rédaction, théologie, ed. Jacob Kremer (BETL 48; Gembloux: Duculot; Louvain: Leuven University Press, 1979) 129–154, esp. 152 (“Das Phänomen der bearbeiteten Tradition ist… für Lukas kennzeichnend,” italics original).

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tain conditions? – is a much-debated topic over a massive length of time.110 In some texts, the conversion of Israel (repentance) is taken as a precondition (one among others, such as charity, caring for the poor, obedience to the law) for the arrival of the end and the coming of the Messiah (the son of David). From the many examples which exist, some quotations from the tractate Sanhedrin of the Babylonian Talmud may suffice.111 R. Samuel b. Naḥmani said in the name of R. Jonathan: Blasted be the bones of those who calculate the end. For they would say, since the predetermined time has arrived, and yet he has not come, he will never come. But [even so], wait for him, as it is written, Though he tarry, wait for him. Should you say, We look forward [to his coming] but He does not: therefore Scripture saith, And therefore will the Lord wait, that he may be gracious unto you, and therefore will he be exalted, that he may have mercy upon you. But since we look forward to it, and He does likewise, what delays [his coming]? – The Attribute of Justice delays it.112 But since the Attribute of Justice delays it, why do we await it? – To be rewarded [for hoping], as it is written, blessed are all they that wait for him. (659) Rab said: All the predestined dates [for redemption] have passed, and the matter [now] depends only on repentance and good deeds. (660) R. Eliezer said: If Israel repent, they will be redeemed; if not, they will not be redeemed. (660) R. Alexandri said: R. Joshua b. Levi pointed out a contradiction. It is written, in its time [will the Messiah come], whilst it is also written, I [The Lord] will hasten it! – If they are worthy, I will hasten it: if not, [he will come] at the due. (663)

In this part of Sanhedrin, a whole series of sayings are noted on the conditions for the coming of the Messiah, all starting with “The Son of David will not come until…” (‫ ;)אין בן דוד בא עד‬cf. “The Son of David will come only…” (‫)אין בן דוד בא אלא‬. There is no doubt, then, that Acts 3:19–20 is best understood in the context of this Jewish-rabbinical debate on the conditions of the eschatological coming of the Messiah. 9. Καιροὶ ἀναψύξεως, “times of refreshment” (3:20) A potential rabbinical parallel to this verse comes from m. ’Avot 4:17: He (= R. Jacob) used to say: Better is one hour of repentance and good works in this world than the whole life of the world to come; and better is one hour of bliss (‫ )שעה אחת של־קורת רוח‬in the world to come than the whole life of this world.113

110

See the many references and elaborate discussion in Keener, Acts 2.1106–1109. Contra Jacob Jervell, Die Apostelgeschichte (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1998) 167–168: “Natürlich ist die Bekehrung nicht die Bedingung für die Parusie oder eine Beschleunigung derselben.” 111 b. Sanh. 97b–98b, Soncino Eng. 657–667 (italics original). 112 At this point the translator/editor adds a clarifying note: “I.e., because we are not yet worthy of it.” 113 Trans. Danby 454.

Haggadic Motifs in Acts 1–3

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According to Strack-Billerbeck, “one hour of bliss” (German: “eine Stunde der Erquickung”) or “one hour of refreshment of the spirit” (‫)שעה אחת של־קורת רוח‬,114 parallels the “times of refreshment” (German: “Erquickungszeiten”) of Acts 3:20.115 The parallel, however, is a superficial one. While the hour of bliss in the rabbinic text refers to the world to come, in Acts it is a temporary relaxation, a breathing space116 in this age, that is, the period of the descent of the Spirit, before the final “restoration of all things” and the day of judgment.117 As Augusto Barbi has argued, the background of this verse is rather to be sought in contemporary Jewish apocalypses, 4 Ezra 11:46 and 12:34 in particular.118 In the Eagle Vision of 4 Ezra the Eagle (= the Roman Empire) is said to disappear “so that the whole earth, freed from your violence, may be refreshed (refrigeret) and relieved, and may hope for the judgment and mercy of him who made it.”119 A period of joy is announced before the day of judgement comes: “[H]e (= the lion, the Messiah) will deliver in mercy the remnant of my people, those who have been saved throughout my borders, and he will make them joyful until the end comes, the day of judgment (quoadusque veniat finis, dies iudicii), of which I spoke to you at the beginning” (4 Ezra 12:34).120 Barbi accepts A. Hilgenfeld’s reconstruction of the Greek text: ut refrigeret stands for ἵνα ἀναψύξαι.121 10. Ἄχρι χρόνων ἀποκαταστάσεως πάντων, “until the restoration of all things” (3:21) The typical apocalyptic notion of restoration resonates with rabbinic sayings on the Messiah’s end-time task. According to Gen. R. 12:6, there are six things to be restored by the Messiah:

114

Cf. Jastrow 1342: “one hour of satisfaction, pleasure, comfort.” Str-B 2.626. 116 So Fitzmyer, Acts 288, with reference to Exod 8:11 LXX. 117 Contra Eduard Schweizer, “ἀναψύξις,” TWNT 9 (1973) 665–666; Jacob Kremer, “ἀναψύξις,” EWNT 1.228–229; with Fitzmyer, Acts 288; David W. Pao, “Jesus’s Ascension and the Lukan Account of the Restoration of Israel,” in Bryan and Pao, Ascent into Heaven in Luke-Acts 151–152. 118 Augusto Barbi, Il Cristo celeste presente nella Chiesa: Tradizione e Redazione in Atti 3, 19–21 (AnBib 64; Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1979) 46–68; Zwiep, Ascension of the Messiah 109–115. 119 4 Ezra 11:46; ed. A. Frederik J. Klijn, Der lateinische Text der Apokalypse des Esra: Mit einem Index Grammaticus von Gerard Mussies (TU 131; Berlin: Akademie, 1983) 76; trans. Bruce M. Metzger, “The Fourth Book of Ezra: A New Translation and Introduction,” in OTP 1.549. 120 4 Ezra 12:34; ed. Klijn 79; trans. OTP 1.550. 121 Barbi, Cristo celeste 55, following the reconstruction of Adolf Hilgenfeld, Messias Judaeorum (Leipzig: Reisland, 1869) 91. 115

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R. Berekiah said in the name of R. Samuel b. Naḥman: Though these things were created in their fulness, yet when Adam sinned they were spoiled, and they will not again return to their perfection until the son of Perez [viz. Messiah] comes; [for in the verse] ‘These are the toledoth (generations) of Perez’, toledoth is spelled fully, with a waw. These are they: his lustre, his | immortality, his height, the fruit of the earth and the fruit of trees, and the luminaries. Whence do we know it of his lustre? – But they that love him shall be as the sun when he goeth forth in his might (Judg. v, 31). His immortality? – For as the days of a tree shall be the days of My people (Isa. lxv, 22). His height? – And I will make you go upright – ḳomemiuth (Lev. xxvi, 13). R. Ḥiyya taught: That means, with an erect bearing, fearing no creature. R. Judan said: It indicates a height of one hundred cubits. R. Simeon said: Two Hundred. R. Eleazar b. R. Simeon said: Three hundred. Whence do we know it? From the word ‘ḳomemiuth’: ḳomah implies one hundred cubits, while miuth implies [another] two hundred cubits. R. Abbahu said: Nine hundred cubits. R. Berekiah stated R. Abbahu’s reason in R. Dosa’s name: A sycamore tree continues growing in the earth six hundred years, while an infant comes out from his mother’s womb a cubit and a half [in length]: go and calculate, a cubit and a half per annum, which gives nine hundred cubits. Whence do we know it of the fruit of the earth and the fruit of the tree? – For as the seed of peace, the vine shall give her fruit, etc. (Zech. viii, 12), The luminaries? – Moreover, the light of the moon shall be as the light of the sun, and the light of the sun shall be sevenfold, as the light of the seven days (Isa. xxx, 26).122

11. Ὃν δεῖ οὐρανὸν μὲν δέξασθαι, “whom heaven must receive” (3:21)123 Although admittedly spatiality is important to the force of the argument – the Messiah had to go to heaven in order to pour out the Spirit over the people124 – it does not preclude the possibility that the use of “heaven” in this verse reflects the rabbinic circumlocution for God (cf. Luke 15:18, 21; 20:4, 5).125 The immediate context, at any rate, is full of Semitisms and is in all likelihood pre-Lukan.126 This may find slight confirmation in 7:59 (κύριε Ἰησοῦ, δέξαι τὸ πνεῦμά μου), where there is also a personal agent (notably Jesus himself) to receive someone into heaven.127 I have not been able to find con-

122

Soncino Eng. 1.92–93. On this verse, see George W. MacRae, “Whom Heaven Must Receive until the Time: Reflections on the Christology of Acts,” Int 27 (1973) 151–165. 124 Barbi, Cristo celeste; Matthew Sleeman, Geography and the Ascension Narrative in Acts (SNTSMS 146; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009) 108–110. 125 This is not necessarily to avoid the divine Name. In general, see: Str-B 1.862–865 (Matt 21:25). This circumlocution has been contested (for Matthew) by Jonathan T. Pennington, Heaven and Earth in the Gospel of Matthew (NovTSup 126; Leiden: Brill, 2007). 126 Contra Gerhard Lohfink, Die Himmelfahrt Jesu (Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1972) 224–225. With, e.g., Pesch, Apostelgeschichte 1.157; Barbi, Cristo celeste 68–72 (apocalyptic background); cf. Hogeterp and Denaux, Semitisms 247–254 (not the exact idiom and no reference to Acts 3:21). 127 Pervo, Acts 102, gives a free (resultative) rendering of ὃν δεῖ οὐρανὸν μὲν δέξασθαι: “He has to remain in heaven until….” The inf. aor. suggests rather an emphasis on the moment of reception. 123

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333

firmation in other authors, but in a search for rabbinical material in Acts at least the possibility of this idiom lying behind Luke’s words should not be left unmentioned.

IV. Conclusions The results of our search for haggadic motifs in the opening chapters of Acts should not be overestimated. All in all, given the large corpus of rabbinic texts available, the impact of haggadah on Acts is modest. There is certainly some “rabbinic” couleur locale to be found in the book of Acts, but overall these elements are at some distance from the original Jewish, Aramaic setting of the events narrated, and certainly less dominant in Acts than in the Jesus tradition of the Gospels. The Judas episode is an exception. Where haggadic motifs are detectable elsewhere in the chapters discussed, they seem to be associative in nature (in this respect, typically rabbinic) and highly dependent on the Septuagint. It is difficult to tell whether they were consciously taken up in the narrative of Acts or just came in with other traditional material without the author’s explicit awareness. In the light of this, it seems difficult to maintain that the author of Acts had accurate first-hand knowledge of “the tradition of the elders/fathers.” His narrative is clearly written from a chronological, geographical and cultural distance, even in the Judas pericope (cf. τῇ ἰδίᾳ διαλέκτῳ αὐτῶν, 1:19).128 That, despite these disclaimers, we can still detect a fair measure of haggadic motifs in these chapters (e.g. the midrashic structure of the two speeches of Peter), at least attests to the seriousness with which Luke carried out his task as “the first Christian historian.”129

128 My assessment of “Luke” therefore differs from Oliver, Torah Praxis, at least as far as the Book of Acts is concerned, and also from Michael Wolter, Das Lukasevangelium (HNT; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008) 9–10, who claims that Luke “über eine unverwechselbare jüdisch profilierte kulturelle Enzyklopädie verfügte” (agreed!) and that he “in einer jüdischen Familie aufgewachsen ist und wie Paulus nicht nur seine primäre, sondern auch seine sekundäre Sozialisation in einem jüdischen Milieu erfahren hat.” I think this is more than the evidence can bear. 129 Daniel Marguerat, The First Christian Historian: Writing “The Acts of the Apostles,” trans. Ken McKinney, Gregory J. Laughery, and Richard Bauckham (SNTSMS 121; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002).

Traces de motifs haggadiques dans le récit de libération merveilleuse de prison de Pierre en Actes 12 Christian Grappe I. Organisation du chapitre 12 des Actes Le chapitre 12 des Actes raconte la délivrance merveilleuse de prison de Pierre. Il est admirablement construit et on reconnaît souvent qu’il est organisé de manière symétrique,1 voire concentrique.2 Nous sommes d’avis pour notre part qu’une structure concentrique est bel et bien sous-jacente à la construction d’Ac 11,30–12,25 et qu’elle peut être représentée de la manière suivante : a. Barnabas et Saul d’Antioche à Jérusalem (Ac 11,30) b. Persécution de l’Église par Hérode (Ac 12,1–2) c. Persécution de Pierre par Hérode (Ac 12,3–4) d. Pierre en prison et sous bonne garde (Ac 12,5–6)

1 Ainsi déjà Ernst Haenchen, Die Apostelgeschichte neu übersetzt und erklärt (KEKNT ; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1961) 331, qui signalait la correspondance : du voyage de Barnabas et Saul d’Antioche à Jérusalem (Ac 11,30) et de leur retour de la ville sainte (Ac 12,25) ; de deux scènes consacrées à Hérode – la persécution qu’il conduit contre des disciples (Ac 12,1–4) et son propre châtiment (Ac 12,18–23) – ; des deux tableaux dévolus respectivement à la libération de Pierre (Ac 12,5–11) et à ses retrouvailles avec la communauté (Ac 12,12–17). Dans son récent commentaire, Daniel Marguerat, Les Actes des Apôtres (1– 12) (CNT V; Genève: Labor et Fides, 2007) 422, simplifie cette construction et n’envisage qu’une correspondance entre les deux scènes consacrées à Hérode – Hérode le persécuteur (Ac 12,1–5) et mort d’Hérode (Ac 12,18–21) – et les deux qui s’ordonnent autour de la figure de Pierre – sa délivrance miraculeuse (Ac 12,6–11) et sa reconnaissance par la communauté (Ac 12,12–17). 2 Ainsi Walter Schmithals, Die Apostelgeschichte des Lukas (ZBK ; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1982) 115, qui propose la structure suivante : a. Barnabas et Saul d’Antioche à Jérusalem ; b. Initiatives d’Hérode (Ac 12,1–(3)5 ; c. récit légendaire relatif à Pierre (Ac 12,(3)5– 17 ; b’. Mort d’Hérode (Ac 12,18(20)–23) ; a’. Barnabas et Saul de Jérusalem à Antioche (Ac 12,24.25). De son côté, John B. Weaver, Plots of Epiphany. Prison-Escape in the Acts of the Apostles (BZNW 131; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004) 188, propose, sans prendre en compte l’ensemble du chapitre, une structure concentrique autour de quatre épiphanies : a. épiphanie de l’ange en tant que sauveur ; b. épiphanie de Pierre devant l’assemblée chrétienne ; b’. épiphanie d’Hérode devant l’assemblée césaréenne ; a’. épiphanie de l’ange en tant que rétributeur.

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e. Délivrance de Pierre (Ac 12,7–10) f. Pierre prend conscience des événements (Ac 12,11)3 e’. Pierre annonce sa libération à la communauté (Ac 12,12–17) d’. Châtiment des gardes consécutif à la libération de Pierre (Ac 12,18–19) c’. Mort d’Hérode (Ac 12,20–23) b’. Sommaire relatif à la croissance de la Parole (Ac 12,24) a’. Barnabas et Saul de Jérusalem à Antioche (Ac 12,25)

Dans une telle structure, les correspondances apparaissent clairement : entre la venue de Barnabas et Saul à Jérusalem (Ac 11,30) et le retour à Antioche (Ac 12,25) ; entre la persécution entreprise par Hérode à l’encontre de certains membres de l’Église (Ac 12,1–2) et l’effet contre-productif de cette persécution puisqu’elle ne fait que catalyser la croissance de la Parole (Ac 12,24) ; entre la persécution de Pierre par Hérode (Ac 12,3–4) et le châtiment du monarque (Ac 12,20–23) ; entre la situation initiale des gardes, chargés par Hérode de garder la prison dans laquelle est détenu l’apôtre (Ac 12,5–6), et leur sort funeste, lié à la fourberie du souverain, qui veut étouffer l’affaire et ordonne leur exécution (Ac 12,18–19) ; entre la libération de Pierre (Ac 12,7–10) et l’annonce qu’il fait de sa libération à la communauté (Ac 12,12– 17). Au centre de l’ensemble, le verset 11 joue un rôle pivot. S’inscrivant à la suite du verset 9, à l’occasion duquel l’incompréhension de Pierre face aux événements qu’il est en train de vivre était soulignée, il marque le passage de l’apôtre de l’incompréhension à la compréhension et présente la particularité de convoquer l’ensemble des acteurs du chapitre alors même que Pierre est seul. Advenu en lui-même, il « dit » en effet : « Maintenant, je sais vraiment que le Seigneur a envoyé son ange et qu’il m’a arraché de la main d’Hérode et de toute l’attente du peuple des Juifs ». Il intègre ainsi l’envoi de l’ange (Ac 12,7) et comprend qu’il a pour objet de le soustraire à la « main » – et aux velléités funestes – d’Hérode, dont on se souviendra ici que, dès le verset 1, il a, littéralement, été indiqué qu’il a décidé de jeter « les mains » sur certains membres de l’Église. Il intègre aussi que, ce faisant, c’est à « toute l’attente du peuple des juifs » que le Seigneur l’a arraché, une attente qu’il faut assurément mettre en lien avec le contexte précédent du passage et avec le récit raconté, à trois reprises ou, en tout cas, de trois façons différentes en Ac 10,1–11,18, de la conversion de Corneille et donc de l’admission, indé3 On pourra noter que Marguerat, Les Actes des Apôtres (1–12) (n. 1) 435, n. 65, signale la position centrale que la prise de conscience de la portée des événements par Pierre occupe par rapport, d’une part, à la « mise en mouvement de Pierre par l’ange » (Ac 12,6–10) et à la « mise en mouvement de la communauté par Pierre » (Ac 12,12–17) et par rapport, d’autre part, à la « neutralisation de Pierre par Hérode » (Ac 12,5–6) et à la « neutralisation d’Hérode par Pierre » (Ac 12,18–20). Cela étant, il ne retient pas cet élément comme essentiel en vue de la structuration du passage tout en reconnaissant par ailleurs, à la suite de Jacques Dupont, Nouvelles études sur les Actes des Apôtres (LD 118 ; Paris: Cerf, 1984) 338, qu’Ac 12,11 « joue un rôle-clé dans la séquence » (435).

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pendante de la circoncision préalable, du premier païen dans l’Église, cela en contrevenant aux règles habituelles en matière de pureté.

II. Actes 12 à la lumière du genre littéraire des récits de libération merveilleuse de prison Le chapitre 12 des Actes dans son ensemble s’éclaire par ailleurs, comme l’ont bien montré les travaux pionniers en la matière d’Otto Weinreich4 et de Reinhard Kratz5, à la lumière d’autres récits de libération merveilleuse de prison, thème fort prisé dans la littérature hellénistique6 mais connu également par ailleurs7 et attesté notamment dans un écrit d’origine juive.8

4

Otto Weinreich, « Gebet und Wunder. Zwei Abhandlungen zur Religions- und Literaturgeschichte», in : Genethliakon W. Schmid (Tübinger Beiträge zur Altertumswissenschaft 5; Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1929) 169–464, (ici, plus particulièrement, 308–341). 5 Reinhard Kratz, Rettungswunder. Motiv-, traditions- und formkritische Aufarbeitung einer biblischen Gattung (Europäische Hochschulschriften, Reihe XXIII: Theologie 123; Frankfurt – Bern: Peter Lang, 1979) 474–499. 6 Il y a été développé surtout dans les milieux dionysiaques où il apparaît chez Euripide, Les Bacchantes, lignes 443–450 et 576–619 (Ve siècle av. J.-C.) ; chez Pacuvius, Penthée (connu d’après le résumé que Servius Danielis associe à Aen., IV,469) (IIe siècle av. J.-C.) ; chez Ovide, Métamorphoses, III,695–700 (rédigées tout au début de l’ère chrétienne, à partir de l’an 1 sans doute), et chez Nonnos, Dionysiaques 35,228 s. ; 44,18–47 ; 45,266–46,3 (Ve siècle apr. J.-C.). On le rencontre également chez Philostrate, La vie d’Apollonios de Tyane, VIII,30 (IIIe siècle apr. J.-C.). Tous ces textes ont été rassemblés par R. Kratz, Rettungswunder (n. 5) 374–392. 7 Le plus ancien témoignage du genre est ainsi un récit hindou, Bhâgavata Purâna, X,3,49–50. 8 Il s’agit du Roman de Moïse d’Artapan, juif alexandrin ayant vécu aux alentours des années 100 avant notre ère. Ce texte ne nous est plus connu que par Eusèbe de Césarée, Préparation évangélique, IX,18 ; 23 ; 27. Le passage qui nous concerne se trouve en IX,27,23–25. Après que Pharaon a fait emprisonner Moïse, les événements se passent de la manière suivante : « Alors qu’il faisait nuit, toutes les portes de la prison s’ouvrirent d’elles-mêmes (αὐτομάτως ἀνοιχθῆναι), et, parmi les gardes, les uns moururent, d’autres furent accablés de sommeil et leurs armes se brisèrent. Moïse sortit et se rendit au palais royal. Ayant trouvé les portes ouvertes, il entra, et, à l’intérieur, le Pharaon se réveilla tandis que les gardes étaient accablés de sommeil (...) ». Cette scène, sans parallèle biblique, paraît manifestement calquée sur le modèle grec comme le montrent le motif caractéristique de l’ouverture automatique des portes et l’attention portée au sort des gardes (cf. les développements qui suivent). Ainsi que l’a montré Weinreich, in : Genethliakon W. Schmid (n. 4) 308–309, elle a, comme le reste du roman d’Artapan, une visée apologétique manifeste : à un public païen a priori méfiant, voire moqueur, elle veut montrer que Moïse est un theios anèr à l’égal des prédécesseurs d’Apollonios de Tyane ou de ceux dont on colportait la légende dans les milieux dionysiaques.

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Weinreich et Kratz ont montré que l’on a affaire à un véritable genre littéraire auquel était dévolue une fonction bien précise, à savoir favoriser la propagation d’un nouveau culte en apportant la preuve que ceux qui sont appelés à le répandre et qui sont miraculeusement sauvés sont bel et bien envoyés par la divinité, sans négliger au passage de jeter le discrédit sur ceux qui voudraient entraver leur action9 et qui représentent en fait l’autorité institutionnalisée du pouvoir en place. L’ensemble du récit est ainsi traversé par un conflit dont l’issue inattendue va renverser l’ordre établi : dès le début, les protagonistes entrent en scène ; au centre, le miracle opère le retournement des valeurs; la fin décrit, quant à elle, le devenir des différents acteurs. La situation initiale est la suivante : le persécuteur, en position de force, tient entre ses mains le héros, persécuté, qui, retenu dans une sorte de « quartier de haute sécurité »10, se trouve dans une situation apparemment sans issue. Entre eux s’interposent les gardes, chargés par le pouvoir en place de veiller au maintien de l’ordre et qui, tout au long du récit, jouent un rôle fondamental puisque, tout en étant au service de l’adversaire, ils sont les témoins privilégiés (ou les premières victimes) de la toute-puissance divine à l’œuvre.11 Le miracle constitue le noyau et, dans sa description, la partie stéréotypée du texte. Il y est fait parfois référence à l’intervention divine12 et presque toujours mention de l’ouverture automatique des portes13 et de la chute des liens14. Opérant un renversement de situation imprévu, il provoque une inversion des rapports de force. 9

Ainsi O. Weinreich, in : Genethliakon W. Schmid (n. 4), notamment 202 et 309. L’importance des mesures prises pour rendre impossible toute évasion est un motif traditionnel des récits de libération merveilleuse de prison. Elle contribue à magnifier l’éclat du miracle. 11 Ils apparaissent tant dans les récits d’Euripide, Les Bacchantes, lignes 439–442, de Nonnos, Dionysiaques 45,283–286, et de Philostrate, La vie d’Apollonios de Tyane, VIII,30, que dans ceux des Actes (5,23 ; 12,6.19 ; 16,27.30–34). 12 Le thème est présent chez Euripide, Les Bacchantes, ligne 498 (« le dieu me délivrera quand je le voudrai »), mais il faut relever qu’aucun envoyé divin n’y est mis en scène. Ce n’est le cas, dans la littérature hellénistique, que chez Nonnos, Dionysiaques 35,228, où Hermès se manifeste. On peut donc penser que la médiation de l’ange du Seigneur en Ac 5,19 et 12,7, est davantage influencée par les parallèles bibliques que par le modèle grec traditionnel. 13 L’adjectif automatos qualifie cette ouverture des portes dans la quasi-totalité de ces récits (Pacuvius, Penthée ; Ovide, Métamorphoses, III,698 ; Nonnos, Dionysiaques 45,282– 283; Philostrate, La vie d’Apollonios de Tyane, VIII,30 ; Artapan, Roman de Moïse ; Ac 12,10). Il en représente donc une sorte de terme technique caractéristique. 14 Euripide, Les Bacchantes, ligne 447 ; Pacuvius, Penthée ; Ovide, Métamorphoses, III,697 ; Nonnos, Dionysiaques 45,274–279 ; Philostrate, La vie d’Apollonios de Tyane, VIII,30 ; Ac 12,7 ; 16,26. 10

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C’est ce qu’illustre la situation finale. L’opposant vaincu (et parfois châtié15, ce qui ne fait qu’aggraver le déséquilibre) se trouve désormais en situation d’infériorité. Le héros, à la fois libre et vainqueur, a pris l’avantage. Quant aux gardes, leur devenir s’avère sujet à de nombreuses variations.16 Quel que soit le sort qui leur est dévolu, l’issue du conflit ne fait plus guère de doute. Le lecteur attendra désormais que la victoire du héros soit entérinée dans les faits : que la religion dionysiaque l’emporte sur ses concurrentes ; qu’Apollonios de Tyane confonde ses détracteurs ; que Moïse soit reconnu en Égypte; que le christianisme de Pierre et de Paul s’impose aux juifs et aux païens.17 L’auteur à Théophile est lui-même friand de ce genre littéraire puisqu’on le rencontre à trois reprises dans le livre des Actes (Ac 5,17–23 ; 12,3–23 ; 16,19–49). C’est en Actes 12 qu’il est sans doute le plus magistralement représenté. Intervention de l’ange (v. 7–10), chute des liens de l’apôtre (v. 7), ouverture

15 R. Kratz, Rettungswunder (n. 5) 442, a mis en évidence que l’adversaire peut être l’objet d’un châtiment divin : Penthée meurt à la fin du drame d’Euripide (Les Bacchantes, lignes 1011–1031) ; Pharaon est accablé de surdité dans le Roman de Moïse d’Artapan après la libération du héros ; Hérode expire, frappé par l’ange du Seigneur, au terme du chapitre 12 des Actes (Ac 12,23). 16 On peut, semble-t-il, distinguer trois types de cas : * transformés en témoins gênants pour le pouvoir en place, ils font l’objet de sa méfiance. Les autorités décident alors parfois de les supprimer et de les réduire au silence (ainsi en Ac 12,19). * témoins stupéfaits de la libération merveilleuse, ils prennent la fuite (Nonnos, Dionysiaques 45,245) ou meurent de saisissement (Artapan, Roman de Moïse) ; * conquis, ils changent de camp et gagnent les rangs des témoins du dieu victorieux (Euripide, Les Bacchantes, lignes 441–444 ; Ac 16,27–30). Le traitement qui leur est réservé nous paraît préciser la visée du récit : * leur suppression par l’adversaire met l’accent sur son endurcissement, voire sa fourberie. Elle souligne de ce fait la lutte sans merci menée par le pouvoir en place contre son rival. On ne s’étonnera donc pas que ce type de textes s’achève avec le châtiment de l’opposant (ainsi Ac 12) : sa fin tragique manifeste à la fois la vanité et l’iniquité de son combat ; * la mort ou la fuite des vigiles sous l’effet de la stupeur fait ressortir l’éclat du miracle et contribue, de ce fait, à mettre en valeur la toute-puissance divine, l’accent étant placé ici sur le merveilleux ; * la conversion des gardes confère à la scène une portée missionnaire. Elle marque non seulement les progrès réalisés par le nouveau culte à l’occasion du miracle mais invite les auditeurs du récit à les rejoindre à leur tour. En effet, le rôle assigné aux gardes par le passage n’est pas sans évoquer la situation des destinataires du texte. Alors que les premiers sont les spectateurs privilégiés de la scène, les seconds en deviennent des témoins indirects et sont conviés à tirer, à leur tour, les conséquences de l’événement selon un procédé littéraire très habile. 17 Nous reprenons ici une des conclusions d’O. Weinreich, in : Genethliakon W. Schmid (n. 4), 309.

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automatique des portes (v. 10), aucun élément caractéristique de ce type de textes ne manque à l’appel. Par ailleurs, le chapitre tout entier revêt une portée étonnante à travers la complexité du conflit qui s’y déroule et les péripéties qu’il connaît. D’un côté, on trouve le roi Hérode ( Ἡρῴδης ὁ βασιλεύς : Ac 12,1) dont on peut penser que le seul titre évoque déjà le motif de la persécution et indique qu’il ne peut être que l’ennemi des chrétiens; de l’autre, apparaît Pierre. Toutefois, Hérode n’est pas seul. Il agit pour contenter les juifs (v. 3) et compte bien présenter Pierre au peuple (v. 4). D’ailleurs, nous l’avons signalé déjà, quand l’apôtre réinterprète l’ensemble des événements au verset 11, il comprend que le Seigneur l’a soustrait non seulement aux mains du souverain mais à toute l’attente du peuple des juifs (πάσης τῆς προσδοκίας τοῦ λαοῦ τῶν Ἰουδαίων). On notera que cette dernière expression sonne étrangement dans la bouche de Pierre quand on compare l’hostilité subite qu’il rencontre aux louanges unanimes que prononçait le peuple à l’endroit des apôtres en Ac 5,13 (ἐμεγάλυνεν αὐτοὺς ὁ λαός) et en Ac 5,26. On peut même penser que l’auteur à Théophile souhaite établir désormais une partition au sein d’Israël. C’est ce que semble confirmer la suite du texte qui, en faisant de la communauté des croyants les destinataires de la bonne nouvelle du miracle (v. 17), suggère une opposition entre l’Israël incrédule et rebelle, dont l’attente est contraire au dessein du Seigneur, et la communauté qui, objet de sa sollicitude, représente les prémices de son nouveau peuple. La raison implicite de ce revirement est, comme nous l’avons déjà suggéré, l’inauguration, par Pierre, d’une mission aux païens indépendante de l’observance de tout ou partie des prescriptions rituelles de la Loi. Le conflit opposant Hérode et le peuple juif à Pierre et à l’Église trouve une première issue dans la délivrance de l’apôtre. Mais Hérode, pour effacer son échec, tente d’obtenir une nouvelle légitimation auprès d’un autre peuple (ὁ δῆμος : v. 22) en gagnant Césarée et en s’y tournant vers des païens.18 Malheureusement pour lui, l’affaire tourne mal (v. 23). Au moment où il usurpe la dignité divine en se faisant acclamer non comme un homme mais comme un dieu (v. 22 : θεοῦ φωνὴ καὶ οὐκ ἀνθρώπου), l’ange du Seigneur, qui avait frappé Pierre au verset 7 pour le sauver, le frappe à son tour, mais pour sa perte.19

18 Le terme grec ὁ δῆμος, qui n’apparaît que quatre fois dans le livre des Actes, y désigne toujours des païens puisqu’il sert à désigner par ailleurs le(s assemblées du) peuple de Thessalonique (Ac 17,5) et d’Éphèse (Ac 19,30 et 33). Ce sont là les seules occurrences de ce mot dans le Nouveau Testament. 19 La présence commune, aux versets 7 et 23, de l’ἄγγελος κυρίου et du verbe πατάσσω peut difficilement être tenue pour fortuite.

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On ne peut s’empêcher d’admirer ici l’habileté du rédacteur qui fait connaître au monarque son premier échec et son châtiment devant deux publics différents qui, ensemble, représentent la totalité de l’auditoire auquel est destinée la Parole, Parole qui ne cesse de croître (v. 24) malgré les résistances. Il y a là un procédé subtil qui n’apparaît, à notre connaissance, dans aucun autre récit de libération merveilleuse de prison et qui confère à Actes 12 son extraordinaire portée puisque la toute-puissance du Seigneur s’y manifeste à l’endroit des juifs comme des païens. Dans ce contexte, libération miraculeuse et châtiment merveilleux remplissent une double fonction parénétique. Ils manifestent, d’une part, que Dieu prend fait et cause pour ses porte-parole, et, de l’autre, qu’Il châtie ceux qui le défient. L’encouragement et la mise en garde contenus dans ce message sont destinés à servir le même but : la diffusion de la Parole (v. 24). À la charnière du livre des Actes, au moment où l’activité missionnaire de Paul va prendre le relais de celle de Pierre, le récit a ainsi pour but de démontrer que l’apôtre des juifs avait bien raison contre les juifs en se tournant vers les païens (Ac 10,1–11,18) et que l’apôtre des gentils s’engage sur une voie qui est désormais grande ouverte et sur laquelle le triomphe de la Parole, attesté ici en germe, est l’horizon promis. On peut ajouter à cela qu’un travail plus précis à partir des matériaux utilisés par l’auteur à Théophile dans ce chapitre permet de penser qu’il y a assemblé trois sources : une note qui avait trait à l’exécution de Jacques le zébédaïde par Hérode Agrippa (vv. 1–2) et qui apparaît, dans la narration, disjointe de l’arrestation de Céphas ; un récit qui narrait la délivrance pascale de Pierre, qui a servi de matériel de base en vue de l’élaboration des versets 3 à 19 et dont la suite de notre enquête devrait permettre de préciser les contours ; un récit qui racontait la mort d’Agrippa (vv. 20–23) et dont on trouve une autre version chez Flavius Josèphe (Ant.19,343–352).20

III. Éclairages haggadiques sur Actes 12 Venons-en à présent à notre sujet, que nous ne souhaitions pas aborder sans avoir précédemment montré la cohérence du chapitre 12 dans son ensemble, cohérence que lui confère le fait qu’il est coulé dans le moule représenté par le genre littéraire des récits de libération merveilleuse de prison. Il se trouve que deux sections plus particulières d’Ac 12, le récit de la libération merveilleuse de prison de Pierre (Ac 12,7–10) et, à un degré moindre 20 Ainsi, notamment, Jürgen Roloff, Die Apostelgeschichte übersetzt und erklärt (NTD 5; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1981) 186, et Alfons Weiser, Die Apostelgeschichte. Kapitel 1–12 (ÖTKNT 5/1; Gütersloh – Würzburg: Gütersloher Verlagshaus – Echter Verlag, 1981) 286.

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sans doute, le récit du châtiment d’Hérode (Ac 12,20–23), peuvent trouver un éclairage que l’on pourra qualifier d’haggadique dans la mesure où ils reflètent le fait que les premiers chrétiens étaient convaincus que l’Écriture, qu’il s’agisse de la Bible hébraïque, de la Septante – et cela même si cette Écriture n’était pas encore close car il n’y avait pas encore de canon arrêté –, venait en fait éclairer tant la lecture qu’ils étaient amenés à faire rétrospectivement de la vie de Jésus que celle qu’ils effectuaient, en l’occurrence, du présent et du passé récent de ce qui peut être tenu en quelque sorte comme la vie de l’Église.21 III. 1 Le récit de libération merveilleuse de prison de Pierre C’est le récit de la libération merveilleuse de prison de Pierre dont la dimension haggadique est la plus claire. Les versets qui le précèdent immédiatement le situent explicitement dans un contexte pascal puisqu’ils indiquent que « c’étaient les jours des Azymes » (Ac 12,3) et qu’Hérode avait pour projet de « faire comparaître Pierre devant le peuple après la Pâque » (Ac 12,4).22 Mais c’est surtout la comparaison que l’on peut faire entre Actes 12,7–10 et Ex 12,11–12 LXX qui s’avère troublante et qui donne à penser.23 En effet, 21 Cela qui n’empêche pas que les écrits que l’on trouve dans la Torah et dans les nebiim faisaient déjà autorité comme permet d’ailleurs de le constater Lc 24,37 ou, déjà, le prologue du Siracide qui mentionne en outre les « autres livres des pères », expression qui renvoie selon toute vraisemblance à tout ou partie des qetoubim, au nombre desquels il convient assurément de compter les Psaumes. 22 La mention successive des jours des Azymes et de la Pâque peut surprendre, puisque l’on considère généralement que la fête des Azymes suit en celle de la Pâque. Elle peut en fait trouver plusieurs explications. L’auteur à Théophile ne semble pas distinguer les deux fêtes et paraît même les confondre tant en Lc 22,1 (« La fête des Azymes approchait, qui est appelée la Pâque ») qu’en Lc 22,7 (« Vint le jour des Azymes où l’on devait immoler la Pâque »), où il ne semble pas non plus considérer que ce soit à l’occasion du premier jour des Azymes qu’il convient d’immoler la Pâque (ainsi, Jan van Goudoever, Fêtes et calendriers bibliques. Traduit de l’anglais par Marie-Luc Kerremans [Théologie historique 7; Paris: Beauchesne, 19673] 245). Il est tout simplement possible qu’il ait confondu les deux fêtes « selon l’usage populaire » (ainsi Marguerat, Les Actes des Apôtres [1–12] (n. 1) 431). Il est encore concevable selon nous, comme le montrera la suite de notre contribution, qu’il ait souhaité mettre en parallèle la Passion de Pierre et celle de Jésus à travers la mention, que nous tenons dès lors pour rédactionnelle, de la fête des Azymes. 23 C’est August Strobel, « Passa-Symbolik und Passa-Wunder in Act. XII,3ff. », NTS 4 (1957/58) 210–215, qui, à notre reconnaissance, a reconnu cette symbolique en premier lieu. Il a été suivi, dans le temps, par Jan van Goudoever, Biblical Calendars (Leiden : Brill, 1959) 159 et 179–180 (voir aussi, id., Fêtes et calendriers bibliques [n. 22], 221–222 et 245), qui est manifestement parvenu à la même conclusion indépendamment de lui. Des auteurs ont très rapidement adopté leur conclusion. Ainsi Notker Füglister, Die Heilsbedeutung des Pascha (SANT 9 ; München: Kösel Verlag, 1963) 218 ; Roger Le Déaut, La nuit pascale. Essai sur

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les ordres intimés par l’ange du Seigneur à Pierre évoquent des rubriques bien connues du rituel pascal. L’injonction de se lever promptement (ἀνάστα ἐν τάχει : Ac 12,7) rappelle la hâte dans laquelle le cérémoniel pascal doit être accompli (μετὰ σπουδῆς : Ex 12,11 LXX).24 Quant à la prescription de mettre ceinture et sandales, elle apparaît dans les deux passages (« L’ange lui dit : “Ceins-toi et mets tes sandales” » [εἶπεν δὲ ὁ ἄγγελος πρὸς αὐτόν· ζῶσαι καὶ ὑπόδησαι τὰ σανδάλιά σου] : Ac 12,8 et « Vous la mangerez ainsi : vos reins ceints et vos sandales aux pieds [οὕτως δὲ φάγεσθε αὐτό· αἱ ὀσφύες ὑμῶν περιεζωσμέναι, καὶ τὰ ὑποδήματα ἐν τοῖς ποσὶν ὑμῶν] : Ex 12,11 LXX).25 Par ailleurs, le contexte nocturne rapproche les deux textes (« Cette nuit-là » [τῇ νυκτὶ ἐκείνῃ]: Ac 12,6 et « Durant cette nuit » [ἐν τῇ νυκτὶ ταύτῃ] : Ex 12,12 LXX).26 Enfin, il n’est sans doute pas fortuit que le verbe πατάσσω (frapper) soit employé en Ac 12,7 et 23 alors qu’il revient tout au long d’Ex 12 pour désigner l’action du Seigneur à l’encontre de l’Égypte et de ses premiers-nés (Ex 12,12.23[2x].27.29).27

la signification de la Pâque juive à partir du Targum d’Ex XII 42 (AnBib 22; Rome: Institut Biblique Pontifical, 1963) 286 et 292 ; Jacques Dupont, « Pierre délivré de prison (Ac 12,1– 11) », Assemblées du Seigneur 84 (1967) 14–26 (repris dans id., Nouvelles études sur les Actes des Apôtres (LD 118; Paris: Cerf, 1984) 329–342 [ici 338–341]) ou encore Benoit Standaert, L’évangile selon Marc. Composition et genre littéraire (Nijmegen: Druk Stiftung Studenpers, 1978) 593–594. 24 Voir déjà A. Strobel, art. cit. (n. 23) 213, et, également Walter Radl, «Befreiung aus dem Gefängnis. Die Darstellung eines biblischen Grundthemas in Apg 12 », BZ 27 (1983) 81–96 (ici, 88) ; Charles Kingsley Barrett, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on The Acts of the Apostles in two volumes. Volume I. Preliminary Introduction and Commentary on Acts I–XIV (ICC; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1994) 580 ; Johann Hintermaier, Die Befreiungswunder in der Apostelgeschichte. Motivs- und formkritische Aufarbeitung eines biblischen Befreiungswunders in Apg 5,17–42 ; 12,1–23 ; 16,11–40 (BBB 143; Berlin: Philo, 2003) 223 et 225 ; D. Marguerat, Les Actes des Apôtres [1–12] (n. 1) 426 et 434 ; David G. Peterson, The Acts of the Apostles (The Pillar New Testament Commentary; Grand Rapids, MI – Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2009) 364, et Dany Christopher, The Appropriation of Passover in LukeActs (WUNT 2.476; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2018) 177. 25 A. Strobel, ibid. ; W. Radl, ibid. ; Ch. K. Barrett, ibid. ; J. Hintermaier, op. cit. (n. 24) 223 et 225 ; D. Marguerat, ibid. ; D. G. Peterson, ibid. et D. Christopher, ibid., font, là encore, le parallèle. 26 A. Strobel, art. cit. (n. 23) 212–213 ; W. Radl, ibid. ; Ch. K. Barrett, op. cit. (n. 24) 579 ; J. Hintermaier, op. cit (n. 24) 222 ; D. Marguerat, op. cit. (n. 1) 426 et 433 ; D. G. Peterson, ibid. et D. Christopher, op. cit. (n. 24) 178, effectuent ici aussi le parallèle. 27 Ce verbe apparaît comme une sorte de terminus technicus pour la description des plaies d’Égypte tant dans l’Exode (Ex 3,20 ; 7,20.25 ; 8,12.13 ; 9,15.25.[2x]) que dans les Psaumes (Ps 77,51 ; 104,33.36 ; 134,8 ; 135,10) ou en 1 Samuel (1 S 4,8). On peut noter encore que, en Ap 11,6, est confié aux deux témoins le pouvoir de frapper la terre de toutes sortes de maux (ἐξουσίαν ἔχουσιν […] πατάξαι τὴν γῆν ἐν πάσῃ πληγῇ), en référence manifeste à la première plaie d’Égypte (Ex 7,19–20). Ce passage atteste, outre Ac 12, que le verbe πατάσσω a pu contribuer à décrire l’intervention présente ou future de Dieu en fonction de son action pas-

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Il convient ici d’ajouter, à ces considération ponctuelles, le fait, important pour l’évaluation du substrat traditionnel dont a pu disposer l’auteur à Théophile, que l’on trouve un récit parallèle à Actes 12,7–10, dans l’Épître des Apôtres, dont on peut situer la production dans la seconde moitié du IIe siècle et dont l’origine géographique exacte reste débattue.28 Le Ressuscité s’y adresse aux disciples en ces termes au chapitre 15 : « Pour vous, cependant, gardez le souvenir de ma mort, qui est la Pâque. Alors l’un d’entre vous, qui vous tenez près de moi, sera jeté en prison à cause de mon nom, et il sera très accablé et attristé, car tandis que vous, vous ferez la Pâque, lui dans la prison ne la fera pas avec vous. Mais j’enverrai ma force sous l’apparence de mon ange, et les portes de la prison s’ouvriront, et il viendra vers vous, pour veiller et se reposer avec vous. Le coq ayant chanté, alors que vous aurez achevé mon agape et mon souvenir [littéralement : mon mémorial]29, on le reprendra et on le jettera pour son témoignage en prison, jusqu’à ce qu’il sorte et prêche, comme je vous l’ai commandé ». Nous lui avons dit : « Ô Seigneur, n’as-tu pas achevé de boire la Pâque ?30 À nouveau, nous faudra-t-il le faire ? » Et il nous dit : « Oui, jusqu’à ce que je vienne d’auprès du Père avec mes plaies. »31

Pour bien comprendre ce texte et, par extension, la tradition sous-jacente au récit de libération merveilleuse de prison en Actes 12, il convient de se sou-

sée. R. Kratz, Rettungswunder (n. 5) 473 ; Wesley Allen, The Death of Herod. The Narrative and Theological Function of Retribution in Luke-Acts (SBLDS 158; Atlanta : Scholars Press, 1997) 108, et John B. Weaver, Plots of Epiphany (n. 2) 188–189, soulignent tout particulièrement la polarité que crée la récurrence de ce verbe dans deux acceptions différentes et avec le même sujet, l’ange du Seigneur, au sein de l’ensemble du chapitre. 28 Voir à ce sujet, Jacques-Noël Pérès, « Épître des Apôtres », in : Écrits apocryphes chrétiens. I. Édition publiée sous la direction de François Bovon et Pierre Geoltrain. Index établi par Server J. Voicu (Bibliothèque de la Pléiade 442; Paris: Gallimard, 1997) 359–392 (ici, 359) ; C. Detlef G. Müller, « Die Epistula Apostolorum », in : Antike Christliche Apokryphen in deutscher Übersetzung. Herausgegeben von Christoph Markschies und Jens Schröter in Verbindung mit Andreas Heiser, 7. Auflage der von Edgar Hennecke begründeten und von Wilhelm Schneemelcher fortgeführten Sammlung der neutestamentlichen Apokryphen. I. Band : Evangelien und Verwandtes. Teilband 2 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012) 1062–1092 (ici, 1064) ; D. Christopher, The Appropriation (n. 24) 185, n. 59. 29 Ainsi que le note C. Detlef G. Müller, « Die Epistula Apostolorum » in op. cit. (n. 28) 1071, n. 68, on peut penser ici à un parallèle avec Lc 22,29 // 1 Co 11,24–25. On se souviendra cependant aussi que la notion de mémorial était tout spécialement attachée à la Pâque juive (Ex 12,14 ; 13,3.9), et à la nuit de veille que célèbre le poème des quatre nuits (dans les deux versions, longue et brève, dont il sera question ci-dessous), qui précise que ces nuits, toutes associées à la Pâque, « sont inscrites dans le Livre des Mémoires » (voir le prochain texte cité dans le cadre de cette étude). 30 Comme le signale J.-N. Pérès, in : Écrits apocryphes chrétiens. I (n. 28) 372 (en note), la question des disciples doit se comprendre en fonction de l’affirmation de Jésus selon laquelle il ne boira plus de ce fruit de la vigne jusqu’à ce qu’il le boive, nouveau, avec eux, dans le Royaume de Dieu (Mc 14,25 // Mt 26,29). 31 Traduction de la recension éthiopienne par J.-N. Pérès, in : Écrits apocryphes chrétiens. I (n. 28) 372.

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venir que, au début de notre ère, la célébration de la Pâque juive était notamment marquée par une fervente attente messianique. C’est ce que pourrait refléter notamment le poème des quatre nuits, attesté sous deux formes, brève (Targum du Pseudo-Jonathan, à propos d’Ex 12,42) et longue, qui sera ici privilégiée et que l’on trouve dans le Targum Neofiti 1 (à propos d’Ex 12,42) et dans deux témoins du Targum fragmentaire V (Vatican : MS Ebr. 440, à propos d’Ex 12,42) et P (Paris : BnF : MS Hébr. 110, à propos d’Ex 15,18) : C’est une nuit de veille et prédestinée pour la libération au nom de Yahvé au moment où il fit sortir les enfants d’Israël, libérés, du pays d’Égypte. Or quatre nuits sont inscrites dans le Livre des Mémoires. La première nuit, quand Yahvé se manifesta dans le monde pour le créer. Le monde était confusion et chaos et la ténèbre était répandue sur la surface de l’abîme. La Parole de Yahvé était la lumière et brillait. Et il l’appela Première Nuit. La deuxième nuit, quand Yahvé apparut à Abraham âgé de cent (ans) et à Sarah, sa femme, âgée de quatre-vingt-dix ans, pour accomplir ce que dit l’Écriture : Est-ce qu’Abraham, âgé de cent ans, va engendrer et Sarah, sa femme, âgée de quatre-vingt-dix ans, enfanter ? Et Isaac avait trente-sept ans lorsqu’il fut offert sur l’autel. Les cieux s’abaissèrent et descendirent, et Isaac en vit les perfections et ses yeux s’obscurcirent à cause de leurs perfections. Et il l’appela Seconde Nuit. La troisième nuit, quand Yahvé apparut aux Égyptiens, au milieu de la nuit : Sa main tuait les premiers-nés des Égyptiens et Sa droite protégeait les premiers-nés d’Israël, pour que s’accomplît ce que dit l’Écriture : Mon fils premier-né, c’est Israël. Et il l’appela Troisième Nuit. La quatrième nuit, quand le monde arrivera à sa fin pour être dissous : les jougs de fer seront brisés et les générations perverses seront anéanties et Moïse montera du milieu du désert et le Roi Messie viendra d’en haut. L’un marchera à la tête du troupeau et l’autre marchera à la tête du troupeau et Sa Parole marchera entre les deux et Moi et eux marcherons ensemble. C’est la nuit de la Pâque pour le nom de Yahvé, nuit réservée et fixée pour la libération de tout Israël, au long des générations.32

Dans la monographie que Roger Le Déaut a consacrée à ce texte, qui associe à la Pâque les événements majeurs de la geste de salut, de la Création à la parousie, autour du noyau que constitue le récit de la libération d’Égypte, il a abouti à la conclusion selon laquelle ce poème des quatre nuits pourrait remonter en substance avant la fin du Ier avant notre ère, en un temps où l’espérance pascale était particulièrement vive.33 Cette conclusion paraît corroborée par d’autres témoignages, et notamment par celui de Flavius Josèphe qui signale, dans un passage de la Guerre juive,

32

Traduction de la recension du Targum Neofiti 1 et Fragment Targum « V » par Roger Le Déaut, in : Targum du Pentateuque. Traduction des deux recensions palestiniennes complètes avec introduction, parallèles, notes et index par Roger Le Déaut avec la collaboration de Jacques Robert. Tome II. Exode et Lévitique (SC 256; Paris: Cerf, 1979) 96 et 98. 33 R. Le Déaut, La nuit pascale (n. 23) 348.

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que les portes du Temple étaient ouvertes à partir de minuit lors de la nuit pascale : 29

Sous l’administration de Coponius, venu, comme je l’ai dit, avec Quirinius pour gouverner la Judée, il se passa le fait suivant. Lors de la célébration de la fête des pains azymes que nous appelons la Pâque, les prêtres avaient coutume d’ouvrir les portes du Temple à partir de minuit.30 Dès leur ouverture, cette fois, des Samaritains, entrés en secret à Jérusalem, jetèrent des ossements humains sous les portiques. Dès lors on interdit à tous les Samaritains l’accès du Temple, ce dont on n’avait pas l’habitude auparavant, et l’on se mit à le garder avec plus de vigilance.34

Le texte est d’autant plus intéressant que Josèphe ne mentionne que de manière incidente l’ouverture des portes du Temple à cette heure-là alors qu’il raconte une exaction commise par des Samaritains. On a là un précieux témoignage de l’ancienneté d’une attente et d’une espérance dont on verra qu’elles sont aussi attestées par le Midrash Rabba à propos d’Ex 12,42.35 L’attente persévérante – il fallait veiller et ne point s’endormir36 – était liée plus particulièrement à la minuit. C’est ainsi que le repas, dont Ex 12,10 stipulait qu’il pouvait être pris jusqu’au matin, devait désormais être consommé avant le milieu de la nuit.37 Du côté chrétien, à la fin du deuxième siècle de notre ère, une célèbre controverse opposa l’évêque de Rome Victor, défenseur de la Pâque romaine qui allait l’emporter, aux tenants de la Pâque quartodécimane38 qui continuaient de célébrer leur fête en même temps que les juifs. On s’accorde à penser aujourd’hui que l’usage des quartodécimans s’inscrivait en fait dans la ligne de celui de la communauté primitive. Il peut être reconstitué à partir des sources quartodécimanes qui nous sont parvenues39 et présente de nom34

Flavius Josèphe, Ant. 18.29–30. Traduction G. Matthieu et L. Herrmann in : Œuvres complètes de Flavius Josèphe traduites en français sous la direction de Théodore Reinach. Tome quatrième. Antiquités judaïques. Livres XVI–XX (Paris : Ernest Leroux, 1929) 139. 35 Cf. Bo 18/12 ad loc. dans l’édition en hébreu du Midrash Rabba d’Aryeh Moshe Mirkin 5.219. 36 M. Pesaḥ. 10:8. 37 M. Pesaḥ. 10:9 ; Zebaḥ. 5:8. 38 Eusèbe de Césarée, Historia ecclesiastica V, 23–25. 39 Outre Epistula Apostolorum 15, on compte parmi ces sources : - Pseudo-Hippolyte, Sur la Pâque 62. Traduction Pierre Nautin : Homélies pascales. I. Homélie inspirée du traité sur la Pâque d’Hippolyte. Introduction, texte critique, traduction et notes par Pierre Nautin. Réimpression de la première édition revue et corrigée (SC 27; Paris: Cerf, 2003) 188–191. Des extraits du texte ont été repris par Raniero Cantalamessa, La Pâque dans l’Église ancienne (Tradition christiana 4; Berne – Francfort s. M. – Las Vegas: Peter Lang, 1980) 46–55 ; - la Démonstration sur la Pâque d’Aphraate ; - l’homélie de Méliton de Sardes, Sur la Pâque ; - l’explication que Jérôme propose de la parabole des dix vierges dans son Commentaire de l’Évangile de Matthieu 4,25,6.

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breuses correspondances avec le rituel juif : célébration concomitante (du 14 Nisan au soir au 15 Nisan à 3 heures du matin, c’est-à-dire au chant du coq) ; caractère de fête de libération et de salut ; lecture et commentaire d’Exode 12; explication du motif de l’agneau pascal – avec toutefois, du côté quartodéciman, une insistance sur le fait que l’agneau désigne le Christ – ; importance du thème de la nuit de veille ; attente d’une parousie pascale.40 A. Strobel41 a montré combien l’arrière-plan de la vigile pascale et de l’attente qui l’accompagnait permet de mieux comprendre les traditions néotestamentaires relatives à la survenue nocturne de la parousie (ainsi Mt 24,43–44 ; 24,45–51 ; 25,1–13 ; Mc 13,33–37 ; Lc 12,35–40 ; 17,20–37 ; Jq 5,7–11). Tous ces passages s’expliqueraient par l’idéologie qui s’est développée à partir d’Ex 12,42 et de la nuit de veille. Leur Sitz im Leben serait en fait un rituel de la Pâque au cours duquel les croyants se préparaient à la venue du Messie. Dans cette perspective, il convenait de veiller et de se tenir prêt à partir à la rencontre de l’Époux afin d’être admis aux noces. La comparaison d’Ac 12,3–19 avec Epistula Apostolorum 15 invite à être plus particulièrement attentif aux résonances pascales du récit que nous avons déjà envisagées et à une autre, que nous prendrons à présent en compte. Au verset 11, Pierre tire la leçon des événements en des termes (ἐξαπέστειλεν [ὁ] κύριος τὸν ἄγγελον αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐξείλατό με ἐκ χειρὸς Ἡρῴδου) qui rappellent différents passages de l’Exode évoquant la sortie d’Égypte42 et les mots par lesquels Nabuchodonosor, en Daniel 3,95 (Théodotion), commente la libération des trois jeunes gens, Shadrak, Méshak et Abed Négo, jetés dans la fournaise (ὁ θεὸς ἀπέστειλεν τὸν ἄγγελον αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐξείλατο τοὺς παῖδας αὐτοῦ). Or la tradition juive situe cette délivrance à l’occasion de la nuit pascale. Tel est le cas de Midrash Rabba Ex 18,12 qui commente Ex 12,42 en ces termes : « Que signifie : “Une nuit de veille” ? (Une nuit) pendant laquelle Dieu a fait de grandes choses pour les Israélites en Égypte. C’est pendant cette nuit qu’il a sauvé Ézéchias (de la mort), Ananias et ses compagnons [délivrés par l’ange Gabriel selon Midrash Rabba Ex 18,5 !] ainsi que Daniel de la fosse

40 Bernhard Lohse, Das Passafest der Quartadecimaner (BFCT 54; Gütersloh: Bertelsmann, 1953). 41 August Strobel, Untersuchungen zum eschatologischen Verzögerungsproblem auf Grund der spätjűdisch-urchristlichen Geschichte von Habakuk 2,2ff (NovTSup 2; Leiden – Köln: Brill, 1961). 42 Il s’agit plus particulièrement d’Ex 3,8 (καὶ κατέβην ἐξελέσθαι αὐτοὺς ἐκ χειρὸς Αἰγυπτίων καὶ ἐξαγαγεῖν αὐτοὺς ἐκ τῆς γῆς ἐκείνης) ; 18,4 (ἐξείλατό με ἐκ χειρὸς Φαραω) ; 18,8 (ἐξείλατο αὐτοὺς κύριος ἐκ χειρὸς Φαραω καὶ ἐκ χειρὸς τῶν Αἰγυπτίων) ; 18,9 (ἐξείλατο αὐτοὺς ἐκ χειρὸς Αἰγυπτίων καὶ ἐκ χειρὸς Φαραω) et 18,10 (ἐξείλατο τὸν λαὸν αὐτοῦ ἐκ χειρὸς Αἰγυπτίων καὶ ἐκ χειρὸς Φαραω), passages sur lesquels J. Hintermaier, Die Befreiungswunder (n. 24) 223.225–226, attire l’attention. D. Christopher, The Appropriation (n. 24) 177, s’appuie principalement sur Ex 18,4 et 18,9 pour aller dans le même sens.

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aux lions et c’est aussi pendant cette nuit que le Messie et Élie manifesteront leur puissance (...) ».43 Toutes ces similitudes représentent assurément davantage qu’une simple coïncidence. Elles autorisent à considérer le récit comme une libération d’Égypte en raccourci. Elles permettent de penser que, dès le niveau de la tradition à tout le moins, un récit de libération de prison d’apôtre (selon toute vraisemblance de Pierre) a été lu ou relu dans une perspective midrashique à la lumière de la fête de la Pâque que célébraient les chrétiens jérusalémites. L’arrière-plan des liturgies pascales juive et quartodécimane est ainsi très précieux pour éclairer le passage. Cela étant, les choses sont encore plus complexes que cela. D’assez nombreux indices suggèrent en effet que Pierre vit ici non seulement une libération pascale mais encore quelque chose comme une « passion » et une « résurrection ». Déjà, le genre littéraire du récit le rapproche de ceux qui, au terme des évangiles synoptiques, rapportent l’épisode du tombeau vide et font apparaître la Résurrection comme une autre forme de libération merveilleuse.44 Par ailleurs, certains traits de la narration évoquent de près Lc 22–24. Pour ce qui est des parallèles avec le récit de la Passion, on peut noter que, comme Jésus, c’est sous un Hérode, que Pierre est arrêté45 et, qui plus est, au même moment, la mention rédactionnelle de la fête des Azymes en Ac 12,3 venant, en complément de celle de la Pâque que l’auteur à Théophile a selon

43

Traduction empruntée à Roger Le Déaut, La nuit pascale (n. 23) 352. Voir aussi, note

35. 44 C’est toutefois surtout le récit matthéen qui fait apparaître le récit de la résurrection de Jésus comme un récit de libération merveilleuse, non plus de prison mais d’un tombeau qui peut faire figure de prison « au carré », dès lors que des gardes sont mis en place (Mt 27,62– 66), que leur réaction à la délivrance merveilleuse est mentionnée (Mt 28,4), qu’ils reçoivent des apaisements de la part de l’ange du Seigneur (Mt 28,5) et que leur faux témoignage est ensuite acheté par les autorités en place pour faire croire au vol du corps de Jésus par ses disciples (Mt 28,13–15). Ainsi, notamment, Ulrich Luz, Das Evangelium nach Matthäus. 4. Teilband. Mt 26–28 (EKKNT I/4; Düsseldorf – Zürich/Neukirchen-Vluyn: Benziger/Neukirchner, 2002) 391. 45 D. Christopher, The Appropriation (n. 24) 172–173, souligne que le fait qu’Hérode Agrippa soit appelé Hérode en Ac 12 favorise les parallèles que l’on peut effectuer avec les deux autres Hérode dont il est question en Luc-Actes, qui, eux aussi, sont systématiquement appelés Hérode sans que soit précisé le prénom ou le surnom qui permettait de les distinguer les uns des autres, alors qu’il s’agit respectivement d’Hérode le Grand (Lc 1,5) et d’Hérode Antipas, appelé tétrarque de Galilée en Lc 3,1.19 et en Lc 9,7, mais présenté systématiquement comme Hérode dans le récit de la Passion (Ac 23,7.8.11.12.15 ; ainsi qu’en Lc 8,3 ; 9,9 et 13,31 et en Ac 4,27). Christopher, ibid., p. 173, fait valoir toute l’importance qu’accorde Luc à Hérode dans la passion en notant qu’il est même mentionné avant Pilate dans la liste de ceux qui se sont ligués contre Jésus. On peut ajouter, dans le même sens, que Lc 13,31 laisse déjà entendre qu’Hérode voulait faire mourir Jésus.

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toute vraisemblance trouvée dans sa source (v. 4), faire écho à Lc 22,1 et 7.46 Révélateur aussi s’avère le projet du monarque de faire comparaître Pierre devant le peuple (v. 4), d’autant que, dans une procédure régulière, ce dernier n’avait rien à dire. Le lecteur est ainsi renvoyé à l’épisode de la comparution de Jésus devant la foule (Lc 23,13).47 En sens inverse, le récit lucanien de la Passion met dans la bouche de Pierre, lors de l’annonce par Jésus de son reniement, une parole qui, certes, ne trouvera pas d’accomplissement immédiat, mais qui anticipe les tribulations ultérieures de l’apôtre dans le livre des Actes. Il se déclare prêt, en effet, à aller avec son maître en prison et à la mort (Lc 22,33 : κύριε, μετὰ σοῦ ἕτοιμός εἰμι καὶ εἰς φυλακὴν καὶ εἰς θάνατον πορεύεσθαι). Ces mots, propres au troisième évangile, prennent tout leur sens à la lumière des récits des Actes qui montrent le disciple incarcéré à son tour (Ac 5,18–19 ; 12,4–5), et plus particulièrement au regard du second de ces textes, qui, nous l’avons vu, fait lui-même écho à la Passion de Jésus. En ce qui concerne les parallèles avec le récit lucanien de la résurrection de Jésus, une correspondance peut être constatée entre la séquence des événements consécutifs à cette dernière et à la libération de Pierre : le Nazaréen et l’apôtre rencontrent d’abord une ou des femme(s) dont le témoignage n’est pas pris en compte (Lc 24,10–11 ; Ac 12,13–15)48, les disciples croyant respectivement avoir affaire à un esprit (Lc 24,37) ou à un ange (Ac 12,15)49; ce n’est qu’ensuite qu’ils se manifestent à la communauté réunie (Lc 24,36 : Ac 12,16) avant de disparaître de manière mystérieuse (Lc 24,51 // Ac 12,17).50 Mais ce n’est pas tout. L’intervention de l’ange dans la geôle soudain baignée de lumière (Ac 12,7 : ῶς ἔλαμψεν), où Pierre, qu’il va réveiller (v. 7 : ἤγειρεν αὐτόν), était endormi (v. 6 : κοιμώμενος), culmine pour sa part dans une parole : ἀνάστα ἐν τάχει (v. 7 : « lève-toi vite ! ») qui n’est pas sans évoquer, avec l’ensemble de la scène, l’hymne citée en Ép 5,14 : ἔγειρε, ὁ καθεύδων, καὶ ἀνάστα ἐκ τῶν νεκρῶν, καὶ ἐπιφαύσει σοι ὁ Χριστός (« éveilletoi, toi qui dors, lève-toi d’entre les morts et sur toi le Christ resplendira »).

46 Dans le même sens, notamment, Hans Conzelmann, Die Apostelgeschichte (HNT 7; Tübingen: Mohr [Siebeck], 1963) 69 ; J. Roloff, Die Apostelgeschichte (n. 20) 189 ; Robert W. Wall, « Successors to the Twelve according to Acts 12:1–17 », CBQ 53 (1991) 628–643 (ici, 635) ; D. Marguerat, Les Actes des Apôtres (1–12) (n. 1) 429 ; D. Christopher, op. cit. (n. 24) 174. Voir aussi Richard Pervo, Acts. A Commentary (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2008) 308. 47 Dans le même sens, déjà, Alfred Loisy, Les Actes des Apôtres (Paris: Nourry, 1920) 484, et aussi D. Marguerat, ibid. 48 Le parallèle de situation est relevé notamment par Susan R. Garrett, « Exodus from Bondage : Luke 9 :31 and Acts 1–24 », CBQ 52 (1990) 656–680 (ici, 673–674) ; D. Marguerat, Les Actes des Apôtres (1–12) (n. 1) 429.436–437 ; Christopher, The Appropriation (n. 24) 175. 49 Ainsi, D. Marguerat, op. cit., p. 429. 50 Ainsi, D. Marguerat, ibid.

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Le parallèle mérite une attention d’autant plus grande que ces deux passages sont les seuls du Nouveau Testament où le verbe ἀνίστημι apparaît à une forme de l’impératif aoriste caractéristique de la koinê, alors qu’ailleurs, notamment dans l’œuvre à Théophile, on rencontre la forme classique ἀνάστηθι. Comme l’origine d’Ép 5,14 est sans doute à chercher dans un contexte baptismal,51 on peut se demander si Ac 12,6–7 ne fait pas écho à quelque tradition liturgique qui, dans une perspective attestée également en Rm 6,3–5, envisageait le baptême sous l’angle d’une union à la mort et à la résurrection du Christ. De la sorte, la participation de l’apôtre à la destinée glorieuse de son Maître, dont la résurrection est couramment évoquée à l’aide du verbe ἀνίστημι, aurait été suggérée de manière à la fois subtile et forte. L’hypothèse pourrait être corroborée encore par un autre détail de la narration, même s’il convient de rester prudent dans son interprétation. On peut rapprocher la première partie de la phrase par laquelle Pierre interprète sa délivrance en précisant que le Seigneur l’a fait sortir de prison (ὁ κύριος αὐτὸν ἐξήγαγεν ἐκ τῆς φυλακῆς) de la formule kérygmatique qui affirme, en Rm 10,9, que Dieu a ressuscité Jésus des morts (ὁ θεὸς αὐτὸν ἤγειρεν ἐκ νεκρῶν), formule que l’on retrouve, avec une simple inversion du pronom et du verbe (Ac 13,30) ou avec une substitution du pronom relatif au pronom personnel (Ac 3,15 ; 4,10 ; 13,27), à plusieurs reprises dans les Actes. Cela étant, la deuxième partie de la phrase, par laquelle il affirme que le Seigneur l’a arraché ainsi de la main d’Hérode et de toute l’attente du peuple des juifs (ὁ κύριος […] ἐξείλατό με ἐκ χειρὸς Ἡρῴδου καὶ πάσης τῆς προσδοκίας τοῦ λαοῦ τῶν Ἰουδαίων) fait écho, quant à elle, au récit de la libation d’Égypte dans la mesure où, en Ex 18,4, Moïse utilise une expression très semblable pour justifier qu’il nomme son second fils Éliezer afin de rappeler que Dieu l’a arraché de la main de Pharaon (ἐξείλατό με ἐκ χειρὸς Φαραω) et où, en Ex 18,9, il est indiqué que Jéthro se réjouit de ce que le Seigneur a délivré Israël de la main de l’Égypte et de la main de Pharaon (κύριος […] ἐξείλατο αὐτοὺς ἐκ χειρὸς Αἰγυπτίων καὶ ἐκ χειρὸς Φαραω).52 Mais qu’allusions exodales et pascales se trouvent ainsi mêlées paraît corroboré encore par Ac 12,17 où Pierre raconte que le Seigneur l’a fait sortir de prison (ὁ κύριος αὐτὸν ἐξήγαγεν ἐκ τῆς φυλακῆς) en recourant à un verbe fréquemment utilisé dans Exode LXX pour évoquer l’acte de libération que

51 Michel Bouttier, L’Épître de saint Paul aux Éphésiens (CNT IXb; Genève: Labor et Fides, 1991) 228, écrit ainsi que cet hymne « reflète l’insertion du baptême dans la célébration de la nuit Pascale et associe les symboles de résurrection : éveil et lever, et ceux de la lumière : aurore et illumination ». 52 Ainsi, notamment, W. Radl, BZ 27 (1983) (n. 24) 89, qui consacre un développement spécifique à cette question ; D. Marguerat, Les Actes des Apôtres (1–12) (n. 1) 426 ; D. Christopher, The Appropriation (n. 24) 177.

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Dieu réalise en faveur de son peuple,53 alors qu’un peu plus loin la formule très brève selon laquelle Pierre partit vers un autre lieu (ἐπορεύθη εἰς ἕτερον τόπον) peut faire pendant, quant à elle, à la disparition mystérieuse de Jésus aux yeux des disciples.54 III. 2 Le récit de la mort tragique d’Agrippa Le récit de la mort tragique d’Hérode Agrippa (Ac 12,20–23) – une mort qui revêt l’aspect d’un châtiment dès lors qu’elle est replacée dans le cadre du genre littéraire des récits de libération merveilleuse de prison55 – pourrait permettre d’effectuer encore un autre rapprochement avec un texte scripturaire qui donnerait lieu à un développement de caractère haggadique. Il s’agit du cycle des prophéties contre Tyr et contre son prince en Ézéchiel 26,1– 28,19, et plus particulièrement du passage qui vise ce souverain (28,1–19). Et c’est à Mark K. Strom que revient le mérite d’avoir rapproché explicitement les deux passages,56 même si les diverses éditions du Neste-Aland effectuaient déjà des renvois, dans la marge extérieure, respectivement à Ez 27,17, pour ce qui est d’Ac 12,20, et à Ez 28,2, pour ce qui est d’Ac 12,22.57 Il a relevé de nombreux parallèles entre les deux passages, parmi lesquels, outre la mention commune de Tyr ou de ses habitants58, les trois suivants nous paraissent les plus topiques : chacun des deux souverains s’oppose en fait au peuple de Dieu en s’en prenant soit à Jérusalem (Ez 26,2) soit à Pierre (Ac 12,3–11); le prince de Tyr affirme être un dieu, alors qu’il n’est qu’homme et non pas dieu (Ez 28,2.9), et Hérode Agrippa se laisse acclamer comme un dieu et non pas comme un homme (Ac 12,22); tous deux font l’objet dès lors d’un châtiment divin (Ez 28,16–19 ; Ac 12,23).59

53 Radl, art. cit., 89–91, produit tout une série de passages qui justifient un tel parallèle que D. Marguerat, op. cit., p. 426, reprend à son compte, ainsi que D. Christopher, op. cit., 177, qui fournit pour sa part la liste des passages du Pentateuque où ἐξάγω est employé pour caractériser l’acte libérateur de Dieu en faveur de son peuple. 54 Ainsi, notamment, D. Marguerat, op. cit., 429 et D. Christopher, op. cit., 175. 55 Voir supra, note 15. 56 Mark R. Strom, « An Old Testament Background to Acts 12.20–23 », NTS 32 (1986) 289–292. 57 Nous sommes remonté jusqu’à la 25e édition, datée de 1975. 58 On note en Ez 26–28 et en Ac 12, une commune référence à Tyr (Ez 28,12 ; Ac 12,20), ce à quoi peut s’ajouter le fait que le territoire tyrien dépende d’un approvisionnement en provenance du territoire israélite (Ez 27,17 ; Ac 12,20), parallèle signalé par les diverses éditions du Nestle-Aland. Ces correspondances sont relevées par Mark Strom, « An Old Testament Background » 290. 59 Mark Strom, ibid. Certains des parallèles qu’il indique ne nous paraissent pas convaincants et nous semblent affaiblir ceux qui sont les plus frappants. Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Acts of the Apostles. A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 31; New York:

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Il se trouve que la mort soudaine d’Hérode Agrippa fait aussi l’objet d’un récit de la part de l’historien juif Flavius Josèphe : Il y avait déjà trois ans qu’Agrippa régnait sur la totalité de la Judée. Le roi séjournait à Césarée, ville qu’on nommait auparavant « Tour de Straton ». Il y offrait des spectacles en l’honneur de César, car c’était son habitude d’organiser quelque fête comme celle-ci pour le salut de l’empereur ; à cette occasion, la majeure partie des magistrats et des dignitaires de la province était rassemblée. Le second jour des spectacles, vêtu d’une robe toute tissée d’argent – une étoffe admirable ! –, Agrippa entra au théâtre au lever du jour. Là, les premiers feux des rayons du soleil frappaient l’argent qui étincelait merveilleusement et réfléchissait des éclats redoutables; cela provoquait un effroi sacré chez ceux qui fixaient leur regard sur le roi. Aussitôt, de tous côtés, les flatteurs se mirent à pousser des acclamations qui n’étaient pas, en réalité, de bon augure pour lui ; ils le saluaient du titre de « Dieu » et ajoutaient : « Puisses-tu nous être propice! Si nous t’avons craint comme homme jusqu’à présent, nous confessons désormais que tu es, par nature, supérieur aux mortels ! » Le roi ne les réprimanda pas et ne rejeta pas cette flatterie impie. Peu après, il leva les yeux et vit le hibou perché sur un câble au-dessus de sa tête. Il comprit aussitôt que celui qui avait été naguère messager de bonheurs, l’était aujourd’hui de malheurs et son cœur fut pénétré de chagrin.60 De fait, une douleur continue le saisit au bas-ventre et, dès le début, fut très vive. Agrippa s’élança vers ses amis et leur dit : « Moi qui suis dieu pour vous, voilà que je reçois déjà l’ordre de quitter la vie ! Le destin a réfuté sur-le-champ les acclamations trompeuses dont vous venez de me gratifier. Moi que vous avez appelé “immortel”, je suis déjà entraîné vers la mort. Mais il faut accepter la destinée, comme Dieu la veut. Car la vie ne fut nullement mesquine à notre égard ; elle eut un éclat qu’on nous envia ! » Tout en disant ces mots, il était terrassé par une douleur intense. On le transporta donc en hâte au palais et le bruit se répandit partout qu’il pouvait fort bien mourir promptement. La foule, avec femmes et enfants, se vêtit aussitôt de sacs selon la coutume ancestrale et se mit à supplier Dieu pour le roi; partout, ce n’était que lamentations et gémissements. Étendu dans une chambre de l’étage supérieur, le roi les voyait, de là-haut, prosternés la tête contre le sol et il ne pouvait lui-même retenir ses larmes. Durant cinq jours, il fut ravagé par des douleurs intestinales continuelles, puis il s’éteignit. Il était alors dans sa cinquante-quatrième année, la septième de son règne. Il avait régné d’abord quatre ans sous Caius César – les trois premières années, il avait gouverné la tétrarchie de Philippe et, la quatrième, il y avait ajouté celle d’Hérode –. Puis il continua durant trois ans sous l’Empereur Claude César, durant lesquels il régna sur les territoires déjà mentionnés et y ajouta la Judée, ainsi que la Samarie et Césarée. Il en avait retiré des revenus très considérables, autant qu’il était possible : douze millions de drachmes ; mais il

Doubleday, 1998) 486, fait sienne l’hypothèse de Strom en retenant, pour l’essentiel, les mêmes parallèles que nous comme étant les plus topiques. 60 Plus tôt dans son œuvre, Flavius Josèphe, Ant. 18.195–202, a raconté que, dans sa jeunesse, Agrippa, emprisonné à Rome sur l’ordre de Tibère, a vu se poser un hibou sur l’arbre auquel il était adossé et qu’un prisonnier germain lui a annoncé alors qu’il allait être libéré de prison et connaître une destinée brillante, mais que, le jour où il verrait réapparaître l’oiseau, il ne lui resterait plus que cinq jours à vivre.

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avait aussi beaucoup emprunté. Aimant en effet la munificence, il dépensait des sommes qui surpassaient ses revenus : son ambition n’était en rien économe.61

Ce récit raconte, comme Actes 12, qu’Hérode Agrippa connaît une fin tragique à Césarée Maritime, que le roi se laisse acclamer en tant que dieu et non plus en tant qu’homme et qu’il fait dès lors l’objet d’une forme de châtiment divin. Cela étant, il présente ce châtiment plutôt sous l’angle de l’accomplissement d’un destin annoncé préalablement, ne fait nulle mention des habitants de Tyr et s’emploie à rendre le personnage d’Hérode Agrippa presque touchant. Rien de tel en Ac 12. L’auteur des Actes cherche manifestement à accabler Agrippa et semble bien trouver une double cause à sa mort : l’une est explicite – il n’a pas rendu gloire à Dieu (Ac 12,23), ce qui peut se comprendre d’abord en raison du fait qu’il a accepté les éloges impies du peuple et se retrouve aussi, nous venons de le signaler, dans le récit de Josèphe; l’autre est implicite et est suggérée par l’acteur même de son châtiment et le verbe qui est employé pour décrire ce dernier (πατάσσω).62 Il y a toutes les raisons de penser que la tension établie ainsi entre Ac 12,7 où l’ange du Seigneur frappe Pierre pour le sauver, et Ac 12,23, où ce même ange du Seigneur frappe Hérode Agrippa pour le châtier,63,est le fait de l’auteur à Théophile qui, au stade rédactionnel, aura suggéré que la triste fin d’Hérode est à mettre en lien avec le châtiment qui frappe l’Égypte et ses premiers-nés en Exode 12. III. 3 L’amplification des motifs haggadiques par l’auteur à Théophile En fonction de la dernière observation que nous venons de faire, on peut parvenir à une hypothèse qui nous paraît fort intéressante en ce qui concerne la présence de motifs haggadiques en Actes 12. Comme on l’a dit, l’auteur à Théophile a, selon toute vraisemblance, disposé ici de trois sources qu’il a coulées dans le moule du genre littéraire des récits de libération merveilleuse de prison.64 L’une de ces sources, jérusalémite selon toute vraisemblance et que l’on retrouve aussi à l’arrière-plan d’Epistula Apostolorum 15, narrait la libération pascale de Pierre, ce que l’on peut déduire non seulement d’Actes 12,3–17, mais aussi du parallèle que représente le chapitre 15 de l’Épître des Apôtres. De fait, soit, comme c’est le plus vraisemblable, l’auteur de cet écrit a connu

61 Flavius Josèphe, Ant. 19.343–353. Traduction empruntée au recueil de textes, Flavius Josèphe. Un témoin juif de la Palestine au temps des Apôtres. Présentation par une équipe de la faculté de théologie de Lyon (Supplément au Cahier Évangile 36; Paris: Cerf, 1983) 68–69. 62 Voir supra, n. 19 et la section de texte correspondante. 63 Voir supra, n. 27 et la section de texte correspondante. 64 Voir supra, fin de notre section II (dernier paragraphe).

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le livre des Actes65 et a relu le chapitre 12 en en percevant le caractère proprement pascal, soit il l’ignorait et disposait donc d’une tradition indépendante qui supposait également cet arrière-plan. Cette source peut être conçue elle-même comme une tradition de nature haggadique qui racontait, à la lumière de la fête de la Pâque, la libération de l’apôtre comme une délivrance pascale, sans doute déjà, même si cela n’est pas repris ou n’est pas perceptible dans le récit de l’Épître des Apôtres, sous l’aspect d’une sortie d’Égypte en raccourci. Elle faisait valoir du même coup, et c’est extrêmement riche de sens, que le Seigneur continuait d’écrire des pages de la geste de salut à travers le présent de la vie de la communauté. Quoi qu’il en soit de la présence ou non de la typologie exodale dans sa source, il ne fait pas de doute que l’auteur des Actes l’a à tout le moins amplifiée, et a donc renforcé le caractère haggadique du passage ainsi que sa dimension sotériologique, et cela en déployant la symbolique exodale, par-delà les versets 7–10, dans son récit. De fait, Pierre récapitule son itinéraire en Ac 12,11 à l’aide d’un verbe évocateur, dans l’Exode, de la sortie d’Égypte ;66 il relate sa sortie de prison en Ac 12,17 en recourant à un autre verbe fréquent dans l’Exode pour évoquer l’action libératrice opérée par Dieu en faveur de son peuple ;67 il établit enfin un parallèle entre le geste salvateur de l’ange du Seigneur au profit de Pierre (Ac 12,7) et le geste mortifère de ce même ange du Seigneur à l’encontre d’Hérode Agrippa en Ac 12,23.68 Par ailleurs, en s’appuyant sur une autre tradition, relative quant à elle à la mort tragique d’Hérode et qu’il relit à sa manière en la reliant non seulement à l’imprudence du monarque, qui se laisse saluer comme dieu, mais aussi à l’action hostile qu’il a entreprise au détriment de Pierre, il pourrait avoir fait allusion à la destinée funeste du Prince de Tyr69 pour mieux stigmatiser l’agir du souverain dans le cadre que lui offrait le genre littéraire des récits de libération merveilleuse de prison. En effectuant un parallèle entre les déboires et la libération de Pierre et les récits de la passion et de la résurrection de Jésus, il a encore créé une interface qui concerne non plus des épisodes de l’Ancien Testament mais la vie et la destinée de Jésus. Il a, ce faisant, voulu souligner une continuité du même 65

En ce sens peuvent plaider notamment le début du chapitre 31, qui paraît supposer la connaissance d’Ac 9,1–30, et le détail selon lequel une nuée lumineuse emporte le Christ au moment de son ascension (Épître des Apôtres 51 // Ac 1,9) 66 Voir supra, n. 42. On peut toutefois également envisager que ce passage remonte pour l’essentiel à la tradition qu’il a utilisée, du fait du parallèle que l’on peut effectuer avec d’autres traditions pascales juives (voir supra, n. 42 et 43 et les sections de textes correspondantes et de l’appartenance du verset 11 au récit de libération pascale de Pierre proprement dit). 67 Voir supra, n. 53 et la section de texte correspondante. 68 Voir supra, n. 27 et 62 et les sections de texte correspondantes. 69 Voir supra, n. 56 à 59 et les sections de texte correspondantes.

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type que celle qui prévaut avec les récits vétérotestamentaires, continuité en vertu de laquelle, dans le présent communautaire, s’écrivent toujours à nouveau des pages de la geste du salut.70

IV. Conclusion Au terme de cette étude, on pourra constater que le recours à ce que l’on a coutume d’appeler le processus de sunkrisis en Luc-Actes pour calquer la destinée de disciples, et notamment ici celle de Pierre, sur celle de Jésus71 relève aussi, à sa manière, du mode de relecture haggadique que nous nous sommes employé à mettre en évidence. L’auteur à Théophile a disposé de sources qui effectuaient déjà une relecture d’événements de la vie de Jésus et des premières communautés chrétiennes dans une perspective que l’on pourra qualifier d’haggadique dès lors qu’elles montraient en quoi ces événements se situaient dans le prolongement de récits fondateurs de l’Ancien Testament. Mais il s’est inscrit lui-même dans ce processus de relecture et l’a prolongé, en quelque sorte, en n’hésitant pas à renforcer la dimension haggadique des traditions dont il a pu disposer et en superposant à cette dimension, une autre, fort similaire, qui consiste, par le biais de la synkrisis, à mettre en parallèle la destinée de Jésus et celle de ses témoins sous l’angle de la continuité et de la permanence à la fois. Daniel Marguerat a pu écrire ceci à propos de la modélisation lucanienne : Elle signale une conformité avec un modèle fondateur et une permanence de l’assistance divine aux témoins malmenés. Elle correspond en définitive à un rebondissement de la typologie vétérotestamentaire qui marque l’évangile : de même que la christologie de l’évangile se construit à l’aide de modèles typologiques (Élie-Élisée et Moïse), la destinée des témoins s’inscrit en Ac dans une typologie christologique qui conforme la vie des témoin au message qu’ils annoncent.72

Il nous semble que la présente étude montre que, dans les Actes, l’auteur à Théophile peut jouer sur les deux tableaux et s’inscrire dans une relecture de caractère haggadique des événements qui établit une continuité non seule70

Une observation de D. Christopher, The Appropriation (n. 24) 184, revêt tout son intérêt dans cette perspective. Il fait valoir qu’Ac 12 n’est pas simplement une réitération de la délivrance que représente l’exode, mais une réitération qui s’accompagne d’un retournement christologique. Il allègue en ce sens Ac 12,11 où l’affirmation de Pierre selon laquelle l’ange du Seigneur l’a délivré peut être comprise tout aussi bien en fonction de Jésus désormais confessé en tant que Seigneur qu’en fonction de Dieu. Il écrit dès lors : « Not only […] the God of the exodus rescue has become the God of the church; the Jesus of the church has become […] the God of the exodus rescue.” 71 Voir notamment à ce sujet Daniel Marguerat, La première histoire du christianisme (Les Actes des Apôtres) (LD 180; Paris/Genève: Cerf/Labor et Fides, 1999) 82–86. 72 D. Marguerat, op. cit., p. 86.

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ment avec l’événement de salut que constitue désormais la venue de Jésus mais aussi avec la geste vétérotestamentaire dont la destinée du Nazaréen a constitué, à ses yeux, le point d’orgue. Pour s’en convaincre, un dernier trait de la narration pourra être mis en exergue. L’auteur à Théophile ponctue le récit de libération merveilleuse de prison entendu au sens large (Ac 12,3–23) par le commentaire selon lequel « la Parole de Dieu croissait et multipliait (ὁ δὲ λόγος τοῦ θεοῦ ηὔξανεν καὶ ἐπληθύνετο.) ». Il introduit ainsi un « refrain de croissance »73 qui fleure bon la révélation vétérotestamentaire. Si l’on peut parler de refrain, c’est qu’il reprend une formule que l’on trouve déjà en Ac 6,7 (καὶ ὁ λόγος τοῦ θεοῦ ηὔξανεν καὶ ἐπληθύνετο), où elle faisait valoir que l’Église primitive de Jérusalem avait pris un nouvel essor avec l’institution des Sept (Ac 6,1–6), et que l’on retrouvera encore, sous une forme légèrement modifiée, en Ac 19,20 (ὁ λόγος ηὔξανεν καὶ ἴσχυεν). Quant au parfum vétérotestamentaire, il résulte du fait que le binôme αὐξάνω et πληθύνω apparaît dès le premier récit de la Création (Gn 1,22–28), avant de reparaître à plusieurs reprises dans la Genèse (Gn 8,17 ; 9,1.7 ; 17,20 ; 28,3 ; 35,11 ; 47,27 ; 48,4) et ailleurs (Ex 1,7 ; Lv 26,9 ; Jr 3,16 ; 23,3) pour décrire le foisonnement auquel sont promises les créatures animales et humaines au sein de la Création ou du peuple que Dieu s’est choisi.74 Plus particulièrement intéressants parmi ces passages s’avèrent les suivants pour éclairer Ac 12,24 et, au-delà, le chapitre tout entier : Gn 28,3, où Jacob s’entend promettre qu’en croissant et en se multipliant il deviendra une communauté de peuples, cela au sein d’un verset que le Targum Neofiti paraphrase de la manière suivante : « Que le Dieu du ciel te bénisse et te rende puissant, qu’il te multiplie pour que tu deviennes une assemblée d’une foule de peuples justes ! »75 ; Gn 35,11 et 48,4, où est respectivement réitérée et rappelée, en termes très similaires, la même promesse en faveur de Jacob, le targum Neofiti se livrant dans les deux cas à une amplification semblable à celle que l’on observe en Gn 28,3; Jr 3,16, où, à l’horizon eschatologique, sont envisagés à la fois la croissance et la multiplication du peuple et le pèlerinage de toutes les nations à Jérusalem (v. 17). Sur l’arrière-plan de tels passages et de la relecture dont font l’objet les trois premiers dans le Targum Neofiti, on comprend mieux ce que peut suggérer l’auteur à Théophile en parlant, quant à lui, de croissance et de multiplication de la Parole dans une période qu’il conçoit aussi comme eschatologique : la marche en avant inexo-

73

D. Marguerat, Les Actes des Apôtres (1–12) (n. 1) 442. La seule exception est constituée par Gn 17,20, où c’est Ismaël qui fait l’objet de cette promesse. 75 Traduction Roger Le Déaut, in : Targum du Pentateuque. Traduction des deux recensions palestiniennes complètes avec introduction, parallèles, notes et index par Roger Le Déaut avec la collaboration de Jacques Robert. Tome I. Genèse (SC 245; Paris: Cerf, 1978) 266. Les italiques signalent les additions par rapport au texte massorétique. 74

Traces de motifs haggadiques en Actes 12

357

rable de la Parole vient réaliser les promesses mêmes qui visaient Jacob-Israël et sa descendance tout en s’apprêtant à englober tous les peuples, dans la droite ligne du programme missionnaire assigné par le Ressuscité aux disciples en Ac 1,8.76 L’auteur des Actes se fait assurément ici lui-même créateur d’une notice à caractère haggadique pour rythmer sa narration et en signifier toute la portée.

76

D. Marguerat, Les Actes des Apôtres (1–12) (n. 1) 442, propose une lecture très semblable de ce verset sans toutefois mettre plus particulièrement en exergue Gn 28,3 ; 35,11 ; 48,4 et Jr 3,16.

Haggadah in Gal 3:6–14 and Rom 4:1–16 Gerbern S. Oegema I. Introduction The following contribution deals with the question whether there is haggadah in the letters of Paul.1 If we follow Wilhelm Bacher’s classical study Exegetische Terminologie der jüdischen Traditionsliteratur of 1905, still a starting point for the pertinent article in the Encyclopaedia Judaica of 2007, “the word haggadah is derived from the expression higgid (or maggid) ha-katuv, ‘Scripture related [or relates],’ with which an aggadic discourse often opened. However, the aggadah did not always derive from biblical exegesis, but often arose independently of it. The word aggadah is rather to be understood as meaning simply ‘relating,’ i.e., events which have occurred.”2 As a genre and method, “aggadah comprehends a great variety of forms and content. It includes narrative, legends, doctrines, admonitions to ethical conduct and good behavior, words of encouragement and comfort, and expressions of hope for future redemption.”3 On the basis of this definition we shall limit our comparative investigation to examples of the interpretation of Abraham in the writings of Paul and that of his contemporaries, and use the term haggadah both in terms of genre and of method. Whereas the name “Abraham” appears 110 times in the book of Genesis, in the New Testament it most frequently appears in Paul’s letters to the Galatians (8 times) and to the Romans (9 times). It is used in different ways though. In Rom 11:10 and 2 Cor 11:22 the name of Abraham is used by Paul to point to his own Jewish roots (“Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they descendants of Abraham? So am I”). However, in

1 On haggadah, cf. the article of Günther Stemberger in this volume, as well as “Aggadah or Haggadah” in EncJud (2007) 1.454–464. 2 Ibid., 1.455–456. 3 The article continues as follows: “Its forms and modes of expression are as rich and colorful as its content. Parables and allegories, metaphors and terse maxims; lyrics, dirges, and prayers, biting satire and fierce polemic, idyllic tales and tense dramatic dialogues, hyperboles and plays on words, permutations of letters, calculations of their arithmetical values (gematria) or their employment as initials of other words (notarikon) – all are found in the aggadah. ‘Whatever the imagination can invent is found in the aggadah, with one exception: mockery and frivolity’ (Zunz), the purpose always being to teach man the ways of God” (ibid., 1.456).

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Rom 4:1–16; 9:7; 11:1 and Gal 3:6–18 and 4:22 it is Abraham himself and not Paul’s Jewish background, who is at the center of Paul’s theological exegesis of the Genesis narrative. In these two passages, Rom 4:1–16 and Gal 3:6–18, Paul seems to employ existing haggadic material, as the following paper will try to show. In order to do so, we will first establish the scriptural basis of the traditions about Abraham, which apart from the Masoretic Text and the Septuagint can also be based on traditions found in the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Samaritan Pentateuch, the Targumim and other ancient versions and traditions. By first comparing these different versions we can get a better sense of some of the issues in the texts or traditions, which ancient copyists, readers and interpreters might have dealt with before they started interpreting the text. Second, we will then compare some of the ancient interpretations of these traditions, look at their similarities and differences, and get a sense of what may have been the reason or need for a specific haggadic interpretation or addition brought to the text. Obviously, in all of this “haggada” or “haggadic” remains difficult to define, especially in the case of the literature of Second Temple Judaism, that is to say, before rabbinic Judaism began to develop more fully its haggadah as a genre and method. Thirdly and finally, we will then go back to Paul and try to establish whether Paul himself may have used haggadic material and methods, and if so, what his strategy may have been in using certain haggadic traditions, and what these traditions may have contributed to his theology, especially in Gal 3:6–14 and Rom 4:1–16.

II. Haggadic Interpretation of the Faith of Abraham in Gen 15:6 II.1 The Scriptural Basis Many haggadic interpretations are responses to aspects in the scriptural text that are vague or ambiguous and need an explanation. The biblical quotations found in Gal 3:6–14 are from Gen 15:6, 13:15b, Lev 18:5, Deut 27:26, Hab 2:4, and Deut 21:23b.4 As we are limiting ourselves to interpretations of the figure of Abraham, we shall examine here only the two verses from the book of Genesis that deal explicitly with him, namely Gen 13:5b and 15:6. Whereas Gen 13:15b according to the MT reads: ‫ולזרעך עד־עולם‬, “and for your offspring forever,” almost similar to the text of Gen 17:8a and 24:7b, 1Qap Genar XXI, 8 paraphrases Genesis 12 and 13 by using five times the term ‫ולבנך‬, “for your son.” Targum Onqelos reads ‫ולבנך‬, “and to your descendants forever,” in Gen 13:15b, as well as in Gen 17:8a and 24:7b, instead of ‫ולזרעך‬, 4

For a full coverage of these quotations and their ancient interpretations, see Gerbern S. Oegema, Für Israel und die Völker. Studien zum alttestamentlich-jüdischen Hintergrund der paulinischen Theologie (NovTSup 95; Leiden: Brill, 1998) 66–68.

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“to you and your descendants after you,” so too Targum Pseudo-Jonathan (“to your children I will give the land”). Targum Neofiti 1 has the plural ‫ולבניך‬, “for your sons,” in Gen 13:15b as well as in Gen 24:7b.5 The Samaritan Targum reads ‫ולזרעך‬, “for your offspring,” in Gen 13:15b, but ‫ולבניך‬, “for your sons” in Gen 17:8a. The Septuagint consistently reads in Gen 13:15b, 17:8a and 24:7b καὶ τῷ σπέρματί σου, “for your offspring.” Transliterated into Aramaic, the Peshitta reads: ‫ולזרעך‬, “for your offspring.” The Vetus Latina reads et semini tuo, “for your offspring,” and the Vulgate the same. The main issue in understanding the text is therefore whether the offspring refers to “offspring” or “descendants” in general, or to “son” in the singular or “sons” in the plural. The vagueness or ambiguity in the verse about the question of who is or are the offspring of Abraham, at least from the perspective of the early Hebrew, Aramaic, Greek, Syriac and Latin versions of the biblical verse, forms the starting point of and explains many of the later interpretations. Who are meant by “Abraham’s offspring,” his children and grandchildren, all his offspring for generations and generations (that is, “forever”), his immediate son, that is Isaac, or his immediate sons, who are Isaac and Ishmael, or maybe a son in the future, like David? Obviously, this open question leaves a lot of space for later interpretations, and it is exactly this vagueness in the text that is the starting point of many later haggadic and other interpretations. In a similar vein we find different versions of Gen 15:6. According to the MT it reads: ‫והאמן ביהוה ויחשׁבה לו צדקה‬, “and he believed in the Lord and it was reckoned to him as righteousness.” The term ‫ אמן‬in the hiph’il means “believe” or “trust,” and is to be translated in the causative form as “to show faith or trust.” The ‫ אמן‬between the two parts of the verse expresses continuity. The term ‫ צדקה‬is difficult to translate, as it has various connotations. The Samaritan Pentateuch reads similarly: ‫והאמן ביהוה וחשׁבה לו צדקיה‬, “and he believed in the Lord and it was reckoned to him as righteousness.” Targum Onqelos reads ‫והימין במימרא דיוי וחשׁבה ליה לזכו‬, “and he trusted the Memra of the Lord, and He considered it for him as a meritorious deed,” whereas Targum Pseudo-Jonathan reads: ‫והוות ליה הימנותא במימרא דייי וחשׁבה ליה לזכו דלא אטח‬ ‫לקמיה במילין‬: “and he had faith in the Memra of the Lord, and He reckoned it to him as merit, because he had not spoken rebelliously in His presence with words.” Targum Neofiti 1 reads ‫והיימן אברם בשׁם מימרא דייי ואתחשׁבת ליה לזכו‬, “and Abram believed in the name of the Memra of the Lord, and He accounted 5

Gen 13:15b according to Onqelos (‫)ולבנך‬: Eng. Grossfeld 66, Aram. Sperber 1.18; according to Neofiti 1: Eng. McNamara 89, Aram. Díez-Macho 1.71; according to Pseudo-Jonathan (‫)וליבנך‬: Eng. Maher 55, Aram. Clarke 14; Gen 17:8a according to Onqelos (‫)ולבנך‬: Eng. Grossfeld 74, Aram. Sperber 1.22; according to Neofiti 1: Eng. McNamara 101, Aram. Díez-Macho 1.91; according to Pseudo-Jonathan (‫)ולבנך‬: Eng. Maher 64, Aram. Clarke 17; Gen 24:7b according to Onqelos: Eng. Grossfeld 90, Aram. Sperber 1.34; according to Neofiti 1 (‫)לבנך‬: Eng. McNamara 122, Aram. Díez-Macho 1.137; according to Pseudo-Jonathan (‫)לבני‬: Eng. Maher 84, Aram. Clarke 25.

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Gerbern S. Oegema

it to him as a merit.”6 The Samaritan Targum reads ‫והימן ביהוה וחשׁבה לו קשׁישׁה‬, “and he believed in the Lord and He accounted it to him as a righteous act.” The Septuagint consistently reads: καὶ ἐπίστευσεν Αβραμ τῷ θεῷ, καὶ ἐλογίσθη αὐτῷ εἰς δικαιοσύνην: “Abram believed in God and it was reckoned to him as righteousness.” The Peshitta reads: “Abram believed in the Lord and it was reckoned to him as merit.” The Vetus Latina: reads credidit Abram deo et aestimatum est ei ad iustitiam: “Abram believed in God and it was reckoned to him as righteousness,” whereas the Vulgate reads credidit Abram domino et aestimatum est ei ad iustitiam: “Abram believed in God and it was reckoned to him as righteousness” (with some manuscripts reading deo instead of domino). According to the different ancient versions, the main issues in understanding the text are therefore: how to write the name of God, as God, Lord, the Memra of the Lord, or the name of the Memra of the Lord, and how to understand faith, as “faith,” “obedience” or “trust.” And finally, the ancient versions give different terms for how to understand the reason how Abraham’s faith was reckoned to him, as “righteousness,” as “merit,” or as “righteous act.” One targum explains the merit even explicitly as “not have spoken rebelliously in God’s presence.” II.2 Contemporary Interpretations II.2.1 Philo of Alexandria The fact that Philo of Alexandria quotes Gen 15:6 several times shows how important this text was for him. The first example we find in his Mig. §§ 43– 52, esp. § 44: ἐπίστευσεν Ἀβραὰμ τῷ θεῷ.7 In his interpretation Philo differentiates between presence and future and elucidates that in the preceding quote of Gen 12:1–3 it does not say: ἣν δείκνυμι, “which I show (you),” but ἥν σοι δείξω, “which I will show you,” as the words entail a prophecy. The same is the case with the soul who believes in God: this is not on the basis of a performed act, but with the expectation of what is to come. Faith achieves, together with the hope for what has been foresaid, a perfect good (ἀγαθὸν τέλειον), as the example of Abraham in Gen 15:6 clearly shows. Of the several options the ancient versions of Gen 15:6 have explored, Philo clearly sees the “righteousness” of Abraham as something of the future, based on an expectation, and not as a past or present merit. Abraham’s part in his “righteousness” was not a righteous deed or anything he had done before; instead it was his willingness or openness to trust in God, as explained in § 46. Here wisdom is said to be a 6

Gen 15:6 according to Onqelos: Eng. Grossfeld 70, Aram. Sperber 1.20; Gen 13:15b according to Neofiti 1: ֵEng. McNamara 95, Aram. Díez-Macho 1.79; Gen 15:6 according to Pseudo-Jonathan: Eng. Maher 60, Aram. Clarke 16. 7 For the text and translations, cf. Philo, Volumes 1–12, transl. F. H. Colson (LCL; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1929).

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matter of insight and not of possession or anything man can do, accessible only through a contemplative attitude, especially in the case of Moses and Abraham, who both were a φίλος τοῦ θεοῦ.8 Important is also the connection with the promises made to Abraham in Gen 12:1–3. His offspring is, so to speak, the proof of his faith and the reward in the future. Is this haggadah? If we take haggadah to be a legend, parable, or anecdote used to illustrate a point of the Law as in the b. Talmud, it is certainly not haggadah in the strict sense of the word. It is neither Talmudic nor legendary nor anecdotal. But if we would not restrict it to a specific genre or time in history, it may very well be “haggadic” in the sense that it comprises: “nonlegal or narrative material, as parables, maxims, or anecdotes, in the Talmud and other (rabbinical) literature, serving either to illustrate the meaning or purpose of the law, custom, or Biblical passage being discussed or to introduce a different, unrelated topic.”9 However, as this definition limits haggadah to rabbinic literature, in the case of Philo and other pre-rabbinic authors we can only speak of pre-haggadic elements in biblical interpretations prior to rabbinic literature which possibly may have prepared later haggadic use. As for our passage in Philo, there is, however, neither a non-legal nor a narrative expansion of the biblical narrative about Abraham as represented by the two quotations, so that strictly speaking we cannot consider his interpretation to be haggadic. But what does it look like in the other passages in which Philo quotes Gen 15:6? In Leg. 3 §§ 228–229 Philo quotes Gen 15:6 as follows: Ἀβραάμ γέ τοι ἐπίστευσε τῷ θεῷ, καὶ δίκαιος ἐνομίσθη, “And Abraham believed in God, and he was called a righteous one.” Philo does not quote from a version known to us, but may have used a manuscript unknown to us, quoted from memory, or adjusted the verse of Gen 15:6 for grammatical or exegetical reasons to make it fit into the context of §§ 228–229. If one is only looking at the centrality of Abraham in Philo’s work and philosophy as an exemplary figure, who knows of and lives close to God, the latter seems to be case: Philo adjusts the quote to the context of his treatise. This may also explain that Philo always quotes Gen 15:6 in different ways in his writings. In § 228 Philo begins opposing two different ways of life, and it is obvious which way of life Abraham stands for: It is better to trust in God and in truth than in one’s own idle deliberations and one’s own corruptible reason. After this statement Gen 15:6 is quoted, followed by quotations of Num 12:7 and 21:28. Part of Philo’s thoughts about Abraham’s faith is also elucidated in Her. §§ 90–93, in which Gen 15:6 is quoted a third time, leading up to the question of 8 There is obviously some resemblance to Paul’s interpretation of Abraham’s faith, with the exception that for Paul everyone can have access to Abraham’s faith and righteousness, whereas for Philo this is reserved only for a few “wise” men. 9 See the definition in n. 2–3.

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why Abraham’s faith is laudable. It is laudable because it is not easy to believe in God. It is easier to trust in richness, reputation, good position, friends, health and one’s own power than in God and only in Him. This is the task of a great and Olympic sized reason (μεγάλης καὶ ὀλυμπίου ἔργον διανοίας ἐστί), of which only very few are capable. Because Abraham belongs to these very few people, he is to be praised. In Abr. §§ 262–265 Abraham’s faith is also seen as a laudable way of life when compared with earthly matters like a good position, fame, honor, richness, a noble origin and a healthy body, in which it is easier to trust. However, trust in God is a much better trust. In Mut. §§ 186–192 Philo emphasizes the weakness of Abraham while trusting in God, and he concludes with a quotation of Gen 32:25, 31 about Jacob that our mortal and physical nature is no well-equipped habitat for virtue (§ 187), followed by further examples about Shem (Gen 11:10), Abraham (21:33), Isaac (26:12), Moses (Exod 27:9) and the Levites (Num 17:28). Finally, in Abr. §§ 268–276 Philo concludes his interpretation of the biblical narrative about Abraham with praise of the wise man Abraham, referring Gen 26:5 (“this man fulfilled the divine law and the divine commandments”: § 275) to Abraham: he completely fulfilled the commandments of the Torah without having a written law, but with an inborn zeal. Philo then rhetorically asks: If you have God’s promises in front of you, what else can you do than trust in them? Such was the life of the first righteous person, the founder of the nation, who fulfilled the law and himself became a law and an unwritten statute. As a whole, we can conclude that Philo interprets Abraham’s faith according to Gen 15:6 in a twofold way. First, by interpreting it through the perspective of other and mostly later biblical verses, and secondly by fitting it into his own hermeneutic. Especially in the first case, he expands the text of Gen 15:6 with non-legal material in order to explain it better and to reach his overall conclusion that Abraham was laudable because he believed in God, trusted in His promise, and did what God asked him to do without having a written law. We can call this haggadic, as it expands the biblical text of Gen 15:6 with nonlegal material. The only difference with rabbinic haggadah, however, is that this non-legal material derives exclusively from a written text, the Torah, and therefore must be called inner-biblical exegesis, and not from a later (oral) tradition, as we have seen in the case of the targums translating Gen 15:6. Whether this can be just a matter of definition we shall now see by comparing it with rabbinic interpretations of the same verse and with tradition about Abraham. II.2.2 Rabbinic Judaism In the Mekilta de Rabbi Ishmael, a Tannaitic Midrash on Exod 12:1–23:19; 31:12–17 and 35:1–3 from the second century CE, Gen 15:6 is quoted twice, in Beshallach 4.58–60 and in 7.160–167. In the first, Gen 15:6 is quoted as

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follows: ‫והאמין ביי‬, identical to the MT, except that it is in Aramaic and has the Tetragammaton written as ‫יי‬. Gen 15:6 is one of many quotations dealing with the question of why the Lord let the Israelites leave Egypt, dividing the Red Sea for them. The other quotations are from Ps 105:42–43; Hab 3:14–15; Ps 136:13; Exod 4:31; Gen 39:12 and Ps 114:3. The whole text reads: And it is written: “That divided the water before them” (Isa 63.12). What for? “To make Thyself a glorious name” (ibid., v. 14). Rabbi says: “That faith with which they believed in Me is deserving that I should divide the sea for them.” For it is said: “That they turn back and encamp,” etc. (Ex. 14.2). R. Eleazar the son of Azariah says: “For the sake of their father Abraham I will divide the sea for them,” as it is said: “For He remembered His holy word unto Abraham His servant” (Ps. 105.42). And it is written: “And He brought forth His people with joy” (ibid., v. 43). R. Eleazar the son of Judah, a man of Kefar Tota, says: “For the sake of the tribes I will divide the sea for them.” For it is said: “Thou hast pierced through because of his tribes,” etc. (Hab. 3.14–15). And it says: “To Him who divided the Red Sea into parts” (Ps. 136.13). Shema‘yah says: “The faith with which their father Abraham believed in Me is deserving that I should divide the sea for them.” For it is said: “And he believed in the Lord” (Gen. 15.6). Abtalyon says: “The faith with which they believed in Me is deserving that I should divide the sea for them.” For it is said: “And the people believed” (Ex. 4.31). Simon of Kitron says: “For the sake of the bones of Joseph I will divide the sea for them.” For it is said: “And he left his garment in her hand and fled” (Gen. 39.12). And it also says: “The sea saw it and fled” (Ps. 114.3).10

Rabbi Shema‘yah11 mentions as the reason why the Lord divided the Red Sea for them: because of the trust with which Abraham “trusted in me, as it says: ‘and he trusted in the Lord.’” The other biblical verses quoted are used here to highlight other reasons why God divided the sea for them. They are: because of the binding of Isaac, circumcision, their trust, Abraham, the tribes, Abraham’s faith, and Joseph’s bones, thus listing several key identity markers of the Jewish people. Apart from the fact that the passage offers little detailed exegesis of the individual verses, it is noteworthy that Abraham is mentioned four out of seven times. This underlines that Abraham is one of the pillars of early rabbinic faith and self-understanding. We can furthermore observe that, as in the case of Philo’s interpretation, the non-legal material with which a tradition about Abraham has been expanded is based on scriptural examples, and that this form of interpretation constitutes a clear inner-biblical exegesis. The hermeneutic behind the passage is that Abraham’s faith or trust has retroactively been interpreted by using chronologically later examples from his own life and the history of the Israelites in order to characterize his original “faith.” In Beshallach 7.160–167, Gen 15:6 is quoted before two citations of Exod 14:31 and 15:1: “Verily, great indeed is faith before Him who spoke and the 10

Translation according to Jacob Z. Lauterbach, Mekhilta de-Rabbi Ishmael 1.219–220. Shemaʽyah is a pre-Tannaitic authority; see Hermann L. Strack and Günter Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992) 71. 11

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world came into being. For as a reward for the faith with which they believed, the Holy Spirit rested upon them and they uttered the song; as it is said: ‘And they believed in the Lord, and in His servant Moses. Then sang Moses and the children of Israel this song unto the Lord’ (Ex. 14.31; 15.1). And also it says: ‘Then they believed His words; they sang His praises’ (Ps. 106.12).”12 As a whole, the passages in Beshallach 7.124–144 read like a hymn on faith or trust in God. 13 Our question is what part of it constitutes an haggadic expansion of the biblical text? Also here we can observe that the expansion of the narrative about Abraham’s faith is made with many non-legal texts, which all derive from a biblical source and therefore represent another example of innerbiblical exegesis. The interpretation results in the view that Abraham’s faith is even better understood in its many later realizations, whether historical or eschatological, and that in this way Abraham’s faith is best understood as a promise of what was and is to come. Whether in the life of the Patriarchs, the Exodus from Egypt, the existence of the people of Israel, or the blessings in the future, even in the “World to Come,” the rewards of the faith or trust in God promised to Abraham can easily be found. In Gen. Rab. Lech Lecha 44/13, Gen 15:6 is quoted according to the MT and followed by a quotation of Gen 15:7 about Abraham’s departure from Chaldea, which is connected by Rabbi Eliezer ben Ya’akov14 with the salvation of Daniel’s three friends from the fiery oven (see Daniel 1).15 A verse from the Torah is therefore interpreted with the help of a verse from the Ketubim / Writings with Abraham’s departure from Ur of the Chaldees being “actualized” in Daniel’s time, i.e. during the period before and during the Maccabean Revolt. The hermeneutical principle used here is that of the third Midda of Rabbi Hillel and Rabbi Ishmael, namely: “Binyan ab mi-shene ketubim” (“A standard from two passages of Scripture”).16 The question of who saved Daniel’s friends is answered with the help of Dan 2:17, namely God. As in the preceding passage one can conclude first of all that by faith or trust in God one can be saved like Abraham in the past, and like Daniel’s friends in a later time. Secondly, that Abraham’s faith and subsequent rescue from idol-worshiping Chaldea has been succeeded or realized in later times, namely in the faith of Daniel’s friends and their rescue from the Seleucids’ forcing the Jewish people to give up their faith.

12

Translation according to Lauterbach, Mekhilta 1.254–255. See also Norman J. Cohen, “Exegetic Tradition in the ‘Mekhilta de-Rabbi Ishmael’: The Meaning of ’Amanah in the Second and Third Centuries,” in JSTOR (1984) 133–162. 14 Rabbi Eliezer ben Ya’akov is probably a third generation Tanna; see Strack and Stemberger, Introduction 85 and 75. 15 See Theodor and Albeck 1.435; Eng. Soncino 1.369. 16 See Strack and Stemberger’s Introduction 22, referring to it as the fourth rule of Hillel, and p. 24 for the rules of R. Ishmael. 13

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In Exod. Rab. Shemoth 3/12, Gen 15:6 is quoted according to the MT and is part of a passage in which Moses is asked why he has a staff in his hand.17 The answer is that he is worthy to be hit by the same staff because he had spoken negatively about the children of Israel although they believed in the Lord, as is said in Exod 14:3, and they are children of a believer, as is written in Gen 15:6. Again, a general principle – not even Moses can stand between God and Israel – is derived from two biblical verses, i.e. the third Midda. In both cases, Gen. Rab. 44/13 and Exod. Rab. 3/12, the haggadic elements are found in Scripture itself and consist of a retelling of a biblical narrative with non-legal material in order to expand its meaning. Whereas this cannot be compared to the fully developed genre of detailed haggadic expansions in some other rabbinic writings, it does add to our understanding of the principle and procedure of haggadic biblical interpretation. Early forms of haggadah try to interpret biblical texts that are vague or in need of explanation by looking for other biblical texts that can help to elucidate their meaning. By doing so, haggadah adds meaning on the basis of non-legal material to the biblical verse in question. II.2.3 Early Church How much of this early rabbinic haggadah was known in the New Testament and in the Early Church? In Paul’s letters to the Galatians and Romans, in the letter of James, in 1 Clement, in Barnabas, as well as in Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho we find several interpretations of Gen 15:6. To begin with, the author of James quotes the verse in 2:23 according to the LXX. In 2:1–13 the Hellenistic Jewish-Christian author underlines that true faith in Jesus Christ is without looking at the person in terms of its practical implications, and it can be equated with the “Royal Way” in the verse Lev 19:18 quoted in Jas 2:8: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” What we see here is that Abraham’s faith in God is equated with the Christian’s faith in Jesus Christ, and the interpretation is a very practical one. Faith means acting accordingly. The question raised in Jas 2:14, what it profits a man if he has faith but no works, is answered on the basis of four examples: two from life, and two from biblical stories. The four examples are that of a hungry person, who needs to be fed (Jas 2:15–16), common sense (2:17–19), the binding of Isaac (2:20–23), and Rahab (2:24–25). The conclusion of all four examples is: Faith without works is dead (2:26). The third example about the binding of Isaac (see Gen 22:1–14) is mentioned as evidence that Abraham’s faith without his works would have been dead, as his faith was only completed by his works (ὅτι ἡ πίστις συνήργει τοῖς ἔργοις αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐκ τῶν ἔργων ἡ πίστις ἐτελειώθη; Jas 2:22). In this way, the author argues, Scripture was fulfilled when it said: 17

See Mirkin 5.28; Eng. Soncino 3.70.

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“Abraham believed in God, and it was accounted to him as righteousness,” and then adds: “and he was called a Friend of God”(v. 23).18 In other words, Gen 15:6 is interpreted through Scripture by using a second verse or passage, 22:1– 14, to interpret it. Abraham’s faith is read through his willingness and the act of binding Isaac, embedded within the hermeneutic of the letter of James, who obviously in anti-Pauline fashion wanted to emphasize the importance of works cooperating with faith. We can clearly call this haggadic, using non-legal biblical material to elucidate the meaning of a scriptural passage. In 1 Clement 10 the author, an early bishop of Rome at the very beginning of the second century CE, equates faith with obedience, and in a sequence of lengthy quotations with more retelling than interpretation.19 The author seems to stay close to Pauline theology in terms of the selection of the quotations, whereas in terms of the quoted verses he underlines Abraham’s obedience in how he acted. In 1 Clem.10:1 he quotes: “Abraham, who was called ‘the Friend,’ was found faithful in his obedience to the words of God.”20 This is followed by quotations of Gen 12:1–3; 13:14–16; 15:5–6; 18:21 and Genesis 22. In the letter of Barnabas, its early second century CE author paraphrases Gen 15:6 as follows in 13:7: ὅτε μόνος πιστεύσας ἐτέθη εἰς δικαιοσύνην, “when he alone was faithful, and it was counted him for righteousness.”21 Faith is mentioned here without “in God,” either because it is implied, or because faith is understood in a more universal way. In the thirteenth chapter of Barnabas the anonymous author raises the question of who are the heirs and with whom the Covenant was made, with the Jews or with the Christians? He answers the question by giving quotes from Gen 25:21–23; 15:6 and 17:4–5; 43:13–19, and 48:9.11, and he quotes Gen 15:7 as follows: ἰδού, τέθεικά σε, Ἀβραάμ, πατέρα ἐθνῶν τῶν πιστευόντων δι᾿ ἀκροβυστίας τῷ θεῷ. Not the first born, who thought that he would be the heir, but the second-born was elected to rule over the firstborn. This is why Abraham’s true descendants are the uncircumcised nations, and they will rule over Israel. The historical situation forming the background of this interpretation may very well have been that of the Roman Empire and the spread of Christianity, which was competing with Judaism for

18

For the latter term, see 2 Chr 20:7; Isa 41:8; Wis 7:27; Philo, Migr. 9 (§ 44). Cf. Kirsopp Lake, The Apostolic Fathers (LCL; Cambridge, MA / London: Harvard University Press, 1913 / 1985) 1.25–26. 20 Translation according to Lake, Apostolic Fathers 1.25. The newer translation of Bart Ehrman has: “Abraham, who was called ‘The Friend,’ was found to be faithful when he became obedient to God’s words.” See The Apostolic Fathers, ed. and transl. Bart D. Ehrman (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2003), 1.51. 21 Translation Lake, The Apostolic Fathers 1. 389. Ehrman has in 2.63 for Barn. 13:7: “when he alone believed and was appointed for righteousness.” 19

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the coveted protection of the religio licita, as a few decades later becomes evident in the writings of Justin Martyr.22 The theological argument here formulated is developed in the fourteenth chapter (see also chapter 12). “Our fathers” were not worthy to receive the Covenant because of their sins (quoting Exod 24:18; 31:12; and Deut 9:10,12 as evidence). Only the “true believers” receive the Covenant of the Lord Jesus Christ, this according to citations of Isa 44:6; 42:6,7; and 41:1–2. The fact that Abraham’s faith was accounted to him as righteousness is “rewarded” with the uncircumcised nations, who believe in Christ, as his heirs. Any positive remark about the Jewish people is absent. Whether this is haggadah depends on the definition, but as such it is clearly an example of the interpretation of one biblical verse, Gen 15:6, with the support of other biblical verses leading to a new meaning of the verse. Finally, in Justin’s Dialogue with Trypho, chapters 23:4; 92:3; and 119:6, written between 155 and 160 CE, Gen 15:6 is quoted three times. In 23:4 he quotes the verse as follows: ἐπίστευσε τῷ Θεῷ, ἐδικαιώθη καὶ εὐλογήθη, “and he believed in God, he was justified, and he was blessed.” The paraphrase of Gen 15:6, to which “and he was blessed” has been added, is part of a longer sentence that reads: “Because also Abraham was, while he was still uncircumcised, justified and blessed, namely because of his faith in God, as Scripture expounds.” The being blessed may have been added as a non-legal expansion and interpretation on the basis of verses like Gen 12:2–3; 14:19; 18:18; 22:17–18; 24:1 and elsewhere, a combination of verses that was well known from Paul’s letter to the Galatians and 1 Clement 10. The overall hermeneutic of Justin Martyr is clear: because Abraham was justified before he was circumcised (and received the circumcision as a sign of his justification), every human being after him has the possibility to be justified by faith without having to keep the commandments. The commandments are the ones of circumcision, keeping the Sabbath, etc., while “faith” according to Justin is faith in Jesus Christ. We can clearly call this an haggadic interpretation on the basis of inter-biblical interpretation that expands the meaning of the verse significantly while using non-legal material. As the Dialogue also quotes many rabbinic positions through the most likely imaginary figure of Trypho (the Tannaitic Rabbi Tarfon?), we may assume that Justin Martyr was familiar with rabbinic and haggadic biblical interpretations.23 In Dialogue 92:3, Gen 15:6 is quoted according to the MT and functions for Justin as the starting point for the opposition of two ways of life: one defined by understanding through God’s grace, and one characterized by the simple 22 For a definition, see Jörg Rüpke, Religion of the Romans (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2007; German edition Munich: C. H. Beck, 2001) 35. 23 See Justin Martyr, The Dialogue with Trypho, trans. A. L. Williams (London: SPCK, 1930) ad loc.

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repetition of words and actions. As Abraham understood through God’s grace without knowing the Torah of Moses, so the Christians now through Christ also understand Scripture in the right way and can live by faith and grace instead of thinking that circumcision and the commandments could justify. We are obviously dealing here with an important aspect of the Jewish-Christian polemic about “law and grace” that had started with the Apostle Paul and would continue well into the 20th century. Relevant for our topic of haggadah, however, is the fact that Abraham’s faith according to Gen 15:6 is understood by expanding it with non-legal material, albeit from Scripture, which highlights the fact that he believed before he was circumcised. This insight we will also see in Paul’s letter to the Romans, especially 4:9–12, and at the same time it is an important topos in rabbinic literature. In Dialogue 119:6 we find a quote of Gen 15:6, where Abraham believes in “the voice of God” close to the one found in Targum Onqelos, which has “Memra of God,”24 although Justin later interprets this voice of God to be Christ: ἐκεῖνος τῇ φωνῇ τοῦ Θεοῦ ἐπίστευσε, καὶ ἐλογίσθη αὐτῷ εἰς δικαιοσύνην: “he believed in the Voice of God and it was reckoned to him as righteousness.” Justin argues with a quote of Deut 32:16–23 that God had punished the Jewish people, but that a “new nation” had taken over their place, with quotations of Zech 2:11; Isa 62:12 and 65:1. In the same way, he continues, as Christ had called Abraham to leave his country, he now also calls the nations to leave their former sinful way of life. Three aspects come together in Justin’s hermeneutic. 1) It is allegorical in its interpretation of “the land” Abraham left being comparable to “the way of life” the nations have to leave; 2) it is Christological, as only through faith in Jesus Christ can the full meaning of Scripture be known; and 3) it is anti-Jewish, in that it replaces the Jewish people with the new Christians. But what element in it constitutes haggadah? For certain, the non-legal expansion of the biblical narrative with the insight that Christ called Abraham and foresaw that Abraham would later be blessed with many nations of a similar faith. Maybe also the fact that Abraham believed in “the voice of the Lord” as an interpretation of something similar to the rabbinic concept of “the Memra of the Lord.” We assume the background of these and other examples may be that Justin Martyr was familiar with the rabbinic and haggadic biblical interpretations of his time. II.2.4 Conclusion In conclusion, and before we move on with haggadah in two letters of Paul, we can state the following. Lack of clarity or detail, vagueness and ambiguity in the biblical text, as already revealed in the various ancient versions of Genesis

24 See on this already George F. Moore, “Intermediaries in Jewish Theology: Memra, Shekinah, Metatron,” in HTR 15 (1922) 41–85.

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15:6, has led to a need for explanation, expansion and interpretation of the biblical text. We can characterize these as early pre-rabbinic forms of haggadah. This is foremost achieved through inner-biblical exegesis, that is to say by finding scriptural verses that can elucidate an unclear element in the biblical text in question. As the various ancient versions of Gen 15:6 show, what needed to be expounded were the nature of the faith, trust or insight of Abraham, the identity of the one in whom he had faith, the impact this had on his later life, and the kind of righteousness, merit or justification which was accounted to him. It was especially necessary for the life of his descendants, both in terms of identity and in terms of way of life, and for the place of circumcision, the commandments, and the Law of Moses in all of this. We were able to identify several methods of biblical interpretation as having been employed in the actual exegetical process, from literal and allegorical to historical and eschatological, and from Christological to typological. In all of this Abraham would become the true prototype and even father and founder of descendants, indeed, a nation of people of similar faith. II.3 Haggadic Elements in Gal 3:6–14 The text of Gal 3:6–9 reads: 6

Just as Abraham “believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness,” 7 so, you see, those who believe are the descendants of Abraham. 8 And the scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, declared the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “All the Gentiles shall be blessed in you.” 9 For this reason, those who believe are blessed with Abraham who believed.25

II.4 Paul’s Interpretation in Gal 3:6–9 For Paul, the reason why Abraham’s faith was accounted to him as righteousness lies in his spiritual offspring. He comes to this conclusion by combining and interpreting two verses from Genesis, 15:6 and 13:15b: “Just as Abraham ‘believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness (Gen 15:6),’ 7 so, you see, those who believe are the descendants of Abraham. 8 And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, declared the Gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, ‘All the Gentiles shall be blessed in you (Gen 13:15b).’ 9 For this reason, those who believe are blessed with Abraham who believed.”26 By reading Gen 15:6 through the lens of 13:15, Paul interprets 15:6 and chooses to place the focus on the verse’s meaning on the addition of the Gentiles to Abraham’s descendants: the Gentiles, with which Paul clearly means 25

Translation according to the NRSV. See more details in Oegema, Für Israel und die Völker 112–120, where Gal 3:6–9 is called an “Abraham midrash.” 26

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the non-Jews or uncircumcised nations, who believe in Jesus (see Gal 3:10– 14), are the blessings for Abraham’s faith. With this focus other aspects of the verse, as noticed in the ancient versions of it, are blended out or reserved for later. In all, this is clearly an haggadic interpretation of Gen 15:6 as it uses nonlegal material, albeit from the book of Genesis, to expand or at least underline its emphasis on the addition of the uncircumcised nations to Abraham’s offspring. We may furthermore raise the possibility that there were comparable contemporary interpretations of Gen 15:6, of which Paul possibly may have been aware: especially the future aspect of Abraham’s righteousness and the blessings made to him, which we have also found in Philo’s Migr. § 44 and in the Mekilta de-Rabbi Ishmael Beshallach 7.160–167. II.5 Haggadic Elements in Rom 4:1–16 The text of Rom 4:9–12 reads in the NRSV: 9

Is this blessedness, then, pronounced only on the circumcised, or also on the uncircumcised? We say, “Faith was reckoned to Abraham as righteousness.” 10 How then was it reckoned to him? Was it before or after he had been circumcised? It was not after, but before he was circumcised. 11 He received the sign of circumcision as a seal of the righteousness that he had by faith while he was still uncircumcised. The purpose was to make him the ancestor of all who believe without being circumcised and who thus have righteousness reckoned to them, 12 and likewise the ancestor of the circumcised who are not only circumcised but who also follow the example of the faith that our ancestor Abraham had before he was circumcised.

II.6 Paul’s Interpretation in Rom 4:9–12 Paul’s interpretation of Abraham according to the Genesis narrative fully employs the fact that he believed in God before he was circumcised by Paul’s theologically exploiting the distinction between Abraham as father of the uncircumcised, and as father of the circumcised. This is what he writes in Rom 4:11–12: “11 The purpose [of this] was to make him the ancestor of all who believe without being circumcised and who thus have righteousness reckoned to them, 12 and likewise the ancestor of the circumcised who are not only circumcised but who also follow the example of the faith that our ancestor Abraham had before he was circumcised.” We can clearly call this haggadah, as it expands the biblical verse of Gen 15:6 with non-legal material and considerably enhances the meaning of the text. Paul may even have had access to, or knowledge of, an already existing haggadic tradition that interpreted the narrative about Abraham in such a way that it enabled Abraham to be the father of both the circumcised (Jews) and the uncircumcised converts from the nations. Obviously, before Paul’s mission there had already been other forms of Jewish mission, maybe not as organized and focused as that of the early Christian mission, but certainly with the goal

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of allowing converts to enter Judaism and/or to force certain people to become Jewish, i.e. be circumcised, such as the Samaritans during the time of the Hasmoneans.27 Later evidence of such an interpretation is found in Gen. Rab. Lech Lecha 46/2 on Gen 17:1, and it confirms the existence of a comparable interpretation: Why should he not have circumcised himself at the age of forty-eight, when he recognised his Creator? In order not to discourage proselytes. Then why not be circumcised at the age of eighty-five, when [God] spoke with him between the pieces? In order that Isaac might issue from a holy source.28

It is therefore not inconceivable that earlier examples of a universalizing interpretation already existed in Hellenistic and pre-rabbinic Judaism, with Paul himself offering an early example of the same.29

III. Conclusion: Paul and Haggadah In terms of our question whether Paul himself may have used haggadic material and methods, and if so what his strategy may have been in using certain haggadic traditions, and what these traditions may have contributed to his theology especially in Gal 3:6–14 and Rom 4:1–16, we can state the following. Paul is best understood as part of a wider context of Jews, Jewish-Christians and Christians interpreting the Bible while using and experimenting with different types of biblical interpretation. An early form of haggadah was one of them, using inner-biblical interpretation, in combination with other forms of biblical interpretation such as allegory and actualization. If understood as any non-legal and expanding form of interpreting the biblical text, it fits with our observations. If exclusively intertwined with rabbinic biblical exegesis, it would fit less nicely with what we have found. In the first case, Paul clearly exhibits some knowledge of both haggadic material and the haggadic method. In the second case, he would possibly be a precursor. In short, whereas much depends on the definition of “haggadah,” as stated above, on the whole we clearly have to differentiate between later rabbinic forms of haggadah, which were much more developed, and pre-rabbinic ones such as the ones employed 27 See the detailed discussion in Arthur D. Nock, Conversion: The Old and the New in Religion from Alexander the Great to Augustine of Hippo (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1933), and Martin Goodman, Mission and Conversion: Proselytizing in the Religious History of the Roman Empire (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994). 28 See Theodor and Albeck 459; Eng. Soncino 1.389. 29 See further Malka Simkovitch, The Making of Jewish Universalism: From Exile to Alexandria (Lexington, KY: Lexington Books, 2016), and Discovering Second Temple Literature: The Scriptures and Stories that Shaped Early Judaism (Lincoln, NE / Philadelphia: University of Nebraska Press and Jewish Publication Society, 2018).

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by Philo, the Tannaim and Paul himself. These are examples that show the various facets of haggadic interpretation that started to emerge at a very early stage without being fully developed yet. Understood in this way, Paul is an example of early haggadic biblical interpretation, both directly in his employing this form of exegesis, and indirectly in the way he seems to be aware of and use some pre-rabbinic haggadic traditions.

Freispruch für den Frevler. Ps 32,1–2 in Röm 4,5–8 und in jüdischen Rezeptionen Klaus Haacker Paulus war kein Erzähler, und er hat Erzählungen der Hebräischen Bibel nicht nacherzählt, sondern nur auf sie angespielt, oft mit winzigen Zitaten aus deren Wortlaut, um aus ihnen Lehren abzuleiten. Die Inhalte, die dabei mehr oder weniger als bekannt vorausgesetzt werden, lassen sich mit wenigen Worten in ihrer kanonischen Reihenfolge aufzählen:1 Gen 1,3 in 2 Kor 4,6: „Gott sprach, es werde Licht“ (Gen 2,14 in 1 Tim 2,13: Zuerst wurde Adam erschaffen) Gen 3,4.13 in 2 Kor 11,3 (1 Tim 2,14): Eva wurde verführt Gen 15,5 in Röm 4,18: Versprechen von Nachkommenschaft für Abraham Gen 15,6 in Röm 4,3.6.9.10.22: Anerkennung für Abrahams Glauben Gen 16,15; 21,2 in Gal 4,21–31: Konflikt zwischen zwei Frauen Abrahams und ihren Söhnen Gen 17,5 in Röm 4,17: Versprechen zahlreicher Nachkommen Gen 17,10.11 in Röm 4,11: Anordnung der Beschneidung als Bundeszeichen Gen 17,17 in Röm 4,19: Zäher Glaube an das Versprechen von Nachkommenschaft Gen 18,10 in Röm 9,9: Ankündigung eines Sohnes Gen 22,17–18 in Röm 4,13 und Gal 3,16: Verheißungen für Abrahams Nachkommen Gen 25,23 in Röm 9,12: Rangordnung der Söhne Jakobs (Ex 7,1.22 in 2 Tim 3,8: Gegner Moses in Ägypten) Ex 9,16 in Röm 9,17: Pharao als ahnungsloses Werkzeug Gottes Ex 13,21in 1 Kor 10,1: Wolke als Wegweiser Ex 14,22 in 1 Kor 10,1: Durchzug durchs Schilfmeer Ex 16,4.35 in 1 Kor 10,3: Wunderbare Speisung in der Wüste Ex 16,18 in 2 Kor 8,15: Wunder bei der Manna-Speisung Ex 17,6 in 1 Kor 10,4: Wasserspende aus dem Felsen Ex 32,6 in 1 Kor 10,7: Bilderkult während der Abwesenheit Moses Ex 34,29–35 in 2 Kor 3,7–11.13: Glanz auf Moses Angesicht Num 11,4 in 1 Kor 10,6: Hunger nach Fleisch Num 14,22–32 in 1 Kor 10,5: Versagen der Exodus-Generation in der Wüste Num 21,4–6 in 1 Kor 10,9: Schlangenplage unter dem murrenden Volk Num 25,1.9 in 1 Kor 10,8: Verführung zu Fremdgöttern durch fremde Frauen 1 Kön 19,1.18 in Röm 11,2–4: Nicht ganz Israel ist zum Baalskult übergegangen

1

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Mit Ausnahme der letztgenannten Stelle handelt es sich um Erzählungen aus dem Pentateuch, überwiegend auf die Erzväter Israels und den Auszug aus Ägypten bezogen. Die Fülle der Details und Anspielungen lässt fragen, wie viel davon Paulus bei Lesern und Leserinnen seiner Briefe als bekannt voraussetzen konnte. Waren die Überbringer seiner Briefe kompetent genug, um als Vorleser zugleich Wissenslücken aufzufüllen? Im Folgenden soll es nicht um einen erzählenden Text gehen, sondern um ein Psalmzitat, hinter dem sich eine Erzählung verbirgt, die nicht zu den Glanzstücken von Israels kollektivem Gedächtnis gehörte.

I. Psalm 32 im Duktus des Römerbriefes Für seine Verteidigung des Evangeliums als Heilsbotschaft für Juden und Nichtjuden hat Paulus eine provozierende Wortwahl bevorzugt: das Verbum dikaióō, das allgemeinsprachlich u.a. für den Freispruch für Unschuldige oder die Verurteilung von Tätern verwendet wird,2 für das gnädige „Urteil“ Gottes über sündige Menschen. Diese Paradoxie hat einen starken Widerhall in der Theologiegeschichte bekommen, besonders in der Paulusrezeption Martin Luthers und der an ihm orientierten evangelischen Theologie. Der gern auf lateinisch zitierte Begriff der Rechtfertigung des Gottlosen (iustificatio impii) geht auf eine partizipiale Aussage über Gott in der Inhaltsangabe des Glaubens zurück, den Abraham vorbildlich an den Tag gelegt hatte (Röm 4,5), was diesem von Gott „zur Gerechtigkeit angerechnet“ worden sei (Gen 15,6 zitiert in Röm 4,3). Als Analogie (katháper = „ganz so wie“) zitiert Paulus anschließend den Beginn von Ps 32,1–2, den er als von David gesprochen einleitet. Betrachtet man die Berufung auf Abrahams Glauben in Röm 4 im Ganzen, so stoßen wir auf drei Inhalte, die etwas aus menschlicher Sicht Unmögliches darstellen: Freispruch für einen Frevler (V. 5), Auferweckung von Toten und Schöpfung aus dem Nichts (beides in V.17). Eine Hoffnung auf eine Auferstehung konnte mit Jes 26,19 und Dan 12,2 biblisch begründet, Letzteres aus Gen 1 abgeleitet werden (vgl. 2 Makk 7, 28). Das Vertrauen auf Gottes Macht, Tote wieder lebendig zu machen, könnte als Erklärung dafür gedacht werden, dass Abraham zur Opferung seines Sohnes Isaak bereit war (Gen 22). Ein Freispruch für Frevler dagegen musste aus jüdischer Sicht als ein Tabubruch erscheinen (vgl. Ex 23,7).3 Es fällt schwer, alle drei Prädikate Gottes als gedankliche Inhalte von Abrahams Glauben zu verstehen.

2

Vgl. Gottlob Schrenk, Art. dikaióō, in ThWNT 2.215–223, hier 215. In Ex 23,7 heißt es in der Septuaginta: „Du sollst den Frevler nicht aus Rücksicht auf Geschenke gerecht sprechen“. 3

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Das Problem im Falle von V. 5 löst sich, wenn Paulus den Ausdruck asebês hier im Sinne des abwertenden Begriffs „Heiden“ gebraucht, wie in Gal 2,15 den Begriff „Sünder“: „Wir sind von Geburt Juden und (stammen) nicht aus den Sünder-Völkern (kai ouk ex ethnôn hamartōloí). Nach dem Zitat aus Ps 32 spricht Paulus nämlich in V. 7–12 ausführlich davon, dass Abraham noch nicht beschnitten war, als Gott ihm nach Gen 15,6 auf Grund seines Glaubens „Gerechtigkeit“ zusprach.4 Nach Josephus (Ant. 20,44–45) hatte ein Torahlehrer aus Galiläa den zum Gott Israels bekehrten König Izates von Adiabene, der mit Rücksicht auf seine Untertanen die Beschneidung zunächst vermieden hatte, dahingehend belehrt, dass dies als asébeia zu werten sei. Eine ähnliche Position vertrat nach Apg 15,5 in Jerusalem eine Gruppe von Pharisäern, die sich der Jesusbewegung angeschlossen hatte. Im Galaterbrief protestiert Paulus leidenschaftlich gegen die Verbreitung dieser Forderung in Gemeinden Kleinasiens, die er gegründet hatte.5 Das Zitat aus Ps 32,1–2 in Röm 4,7–8 spricht dagegen gleich dreifach eindeutig von persönlichen Verfehlungen, deren Vergebung vom Beter als großes Glück gepriesen wird. Das Zitat wird von den meisten Auslegern mit nur wenigen Worten kommentiert − als ein Bibelwort von Gewicht, das die von Paulus vertretene Auslegung von Gen 15,6 unterstützt. Der Verfasser David fungiert dabei als zweiter Zeuge neben dem Verfasser von Gen 15,6, den man damals mit Mose identifizierte (vgl. Mk 12,19 // Lk 20,28; Joh 1,45; 5,46; Röm 10,5).6 Paulus findet diese „Parallelstelle“ nach einer Regel rabbinischer Bibelauslegung, die häufig als „Analogieschluss“ bezeichnet wird.7 Der rabbinische Fachausdruck gezērȃ schawȃ bedeutet „gleiche Verordnung“ (o.ä.). Das Kriterium, auf das man sich dabei stützte, war eine Wortwahl, die zwei Bibelstellen gemeinsam ist, weshalb man auch „Stichwortverbindung“ sagen könnte. Im vorliegenden Fall ist es die Vokabel „anrechnen“ (logízomai) als Äquivalent des hebräischen chāscháb. Paulus ignoriert dabei den Unterschied zwischen den beiden Verwendungen des Verbums: Nach Gen 15,6 wurde

4 Vgl. Siegfried Kreuzer, „‚Der den Gottlosen rechtfertigt‘ (Römer 4,5). Die frühjüdische Einordnung von Genesis 15 als Hintergrund für das Abrahambild und die Rechtfertigungslehre des Paulus“, in TBei 33 (2002) 208–219 (unter Hinweis auf Traditionen, nach denen die Handlung von Gen 15 dem Aufbruch Abrahams aus Mesopotamien vorausging). 5 Vgl. Gal 1,8–9 und v.a. Gal 5,2: „Wenn ihr euch beschneiden lasst, wird euch Christus nichts nützen“. 6 Vgl. Michael Theobald, Römerbrief Kapitel 1–11 (Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1992) 126: „So tritt König David … als erstrangige Autorität der Bibel neben Abraham und bezeugt in Übereinstimmung mit ihm die Wahrheit der Glaubensgerechtigkeit (4,6–8)“. 7 Vgl. Günter Stemberger, Einleitung in Talmud und Midrasch (München: C. H. Beck, 19928) 28–29; speziell zu Röm 4,1–12 vgl. Joachim Jeremias, „Die Gedankenführung in den paulinischen Briefen“, in Abba. Studien zur neutestamentlichen Theologie und Zeitgeschichte (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1966) 269–276, hier 271–272, und Richard Longenecker, Biblical Exegesis in the Apostolic Period (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 19832) 117.

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dem Abraham sein Glaube „zur Gerechtigkeit angerechnet“ – so etwas wie „gutgeschrieben“; in Ps 32,2 ist dagegen davon die Rede, dass einem Mann ein Versagen (hamartía) „nicht (belastend) registriert“ wurde. Über die Bedeutung dieses Psalmzitates im Duktus des Römerbriefs wird selten nachgedacht, weil das Kapitel Röm 4 zweifellos um die Gestalt Abrahams zentriert ist, umrahmt von der Zitierung von Gen 15,6 und angereichert durch weitere ihn betreffende Bibelstellen. Manche Ausleger empfinden das Psalmzitat geradezu als eine Anleihe aus einer „unpaulinischen“ Sprachtradition, weil Paulus sonst selten von Sündenvergebung spricht.8 Dieses Urteil ist allerdings in hohem Maße bedingt durch Zweifel an der Echtheit einiger Briefe, die unter dem Namen des Paulus überliefert sind. Die Vernetzung des Psalmzitats mit dem Gedankengang des Römerbriefs beruht zweifellos nicht auf den Verben „vergeben“, „bedecken“, sondern auf „anrechnen“ (V. 3.4.5.6.8). Aber die im Munde Davids zweimalige Vokabel hamartia erscheint schon in Röm 3,9 in einem Fazit der vorangegangenen Argumentation und dann (im Plural) an einem ersten Höhepunkt des Briefes (3,25). Auf das Motto des Briefes in Röm 1,16–17 folgt in 1,18–32 eine breite Ausmalung des religiösen (asébeia) und moralischen Versagens (adikía, gleich zweimal in V. 18 und noch einmal V. 29 sowie in 2,8) der Menschheit. In 2,12 führt Paulus für dieses Versagen das Verbum hamartánein ein – in einem Fazit, das Juden, die aus der Torah den Willen Gottes kennen (können), und Nichtjuden gleichermaßen betrifft. Es steht also für das objektiv Böse ungeachtet ungleicher Voraussetzungen. Nach einem Exkurs über die besondere Herausforderung der Juden auf Grund ihrer Kenntnis der Torah (2,17– 3,8) folgt in 3,9 das Fazit, dass Juden wie Griechen (d.h. alle sonstigen Weltmenschen) „der Sünde unterworfen“ sind.9 Dafür werden in 3,10–18 Zitate aus mehreren Psalmen als Belege und Illustration angeführt. Sie weisen das Versagen aller Menschen an einer Reihe von Körperteilen nach: Kehle, Zunge, Lippen, Mund, Füße, Auge. Die Macht der Sünde ist also extensiv (weltweit) und intensiv wirksam. Das spezielle Anliegen des Paulus kommt in seinem Fazit in 3,19–20 zum Ausdruck: Nicht nur die Weltvölker, sondern auch die Juden sind vor Gott schuldig, weil die Torah (hier angesichts der Psalmzitate für die ganze Bibel gebraucht) zur Erkenntnis der Sünde führt, d.h. die Sünde sehen lehrt. Das ist die dunkle Folie, vor der sich ab 3,21 das helle Licht des Evangeliums befreiend abzeichnet. In 3,21–26 folgt in komprimierter Rede die Botschaft von der gnadenhaften Gerechtsprechung durch

8

Vgl. u.a. Ernst Käsemann, An die Römer (HNT 8a; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 19804)

107. 9 Die Hypostasierung von Sünde zu einer Macht ist eine für Paulus charakteristische Redeweise; vgl. vor allem Röm 7,7–23. Dass Paulus aber auch von den (Tat-)Sünden spricht, betont Simon Gathercole, „‚Sins‘ in Paul“, in NTS 64 (2018) 143–161 zu Recht; zu Röm 4,7– 8 vgl. dort 157–158.

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die Erlösung in Christus, die ebenso universal gilt wie das in V. 23 noch einmal unterstrichene Versagen (pántes gar hêmarton). Das Psalmzitat in 4,7–8 führt also den Gedankengang von Röm 1–3 fort und setzt dabei einen überraschend positiven emotionalen Akzent. Dieser wird in 5,11 von Paulus mit eigenen Worten („Versöhnung“ und „rühmen“) bekräftigt. Danach nimmt das Thema Sünde von 5,12 bis 8,11 noch einmal breiten Raum ein. Wer das Buch der Psalmen als ein komponiertes Werk auffasst und seine Lektüre mit Psalm 1 begonnen hat, könnte beim Anfang von Ps 32 erstaunt sein – oder gar erschrocken. In den sechs Versen von Psalm 1 ist viermal von den „Gottlosen“ oder „Frevlern“ die Rede (hebr. rescha‘îm, gr. asebeís). Ihnen wird zunächst der einzelne Fromme (oder „Gerechte“) gegenübergestellt, der sich von ihnen distanziert und mit dem Segen Gottes belohnt wird (V. 1–3). Den Frevlern dagegen droht, dass ihr Weg sich verliert (V. 4 und 6) und die Frommen sie aus der Gemeinschaft ausschließen (V. 4–5). Gott „kennt“ nur den Weg der Frommen (oder „Gerechten“), d.h. er hat acht auf sie und kümmert sich um sie.10 Psalm 1 und Psalm 32 beginnen mit einem Glückwunsch für einen beneidenswerten Mann. Aber vor dem Hintergrund von Psalm 1 klingt Ps 32,1–2 wie eine Korrektur an dem starren Gegenüber von Frommen und Frevlern. Beide „Menschensorten“ haben ihre Lebensgewohnheiten, und das Lob für den einzelnen Frommen ist eine Warnung vor Ansteckung, wie sie im Neuen Testament von Pharisäern gegenüber Jesus bekräftigt wird.11 Dass die „Gottlosen“ ihre Lebensweise verlassen könnten – womöglich von den Frommen beeindruckt – kommt im zweiten Teil dieses Psalms nicht in den Blick. Paulus korrigiert diese Einteilung der Menschheit in solche und solche, wenn er in Röm 3,23 alle zu Versagern erklärt.12 Wozu? Um gleich darauf den Freispruch dank der Erlösung durch Jesus Christus zu verkünden (V. 24–26). Der „beneidenswerte Mann“ von Ps 32,1–2 will nicht bewundert werden, sondern will sein Glück mit anderen teilen. Eine gewisse Spannung zwischen dem Psalmzitat und seinem um Abraham kreisenden Kontext verdient Beachtung: Bei Abraham ignoriert Gott nach Gen 15,6 bloße Defizite, gemessen an Maßstäben, die erst später auf Grund des Sinaibundes das Gottesverhältnis bestimmen. Das Psalmzitat dagegen spricht von Handlungen, die als Versagen Unheil nach sich ziehen müssten, − die Gott dagegen auf sich beruhen lässt. Der Psalm spricht in der Fortsetzung

10 Zu hebr. jādá‘ im Sinne von Zuwendung oder Betreuung vgl. Am 3,2 („Aus allen Geschlechtern auf Erden habe ich allein euch erkannt“) sowie Dtn 33,9; Hi 9,21; 35,15; Ps 31,8; Spr 27,23. 11 Vgl. Mt 9,11 // Mk 2,16 und Lk 5,30; 15,2; Lk 19,7. 12 Seneca hätte ihm vorbehaltslos zugestimmt. Belege dafür zitiere ich zu Röm 3,23 in Der Brief des Paulus an die Römer (ThHK 6; Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 20124 ) 101, Anm. 30.

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von Dingen, die das Gewissen des Beters schwer belastet hatten und ihn zu einem Schuldbekenntnis drängten. Daraufhin erlebte er die Vergebung (im Gebet oder in einem Zuspruch durch einen Priester?). Dieser Überschuss gegenüber der Funktion des Zitats in der Argumentation dürfte dem Paulus bekannt gewesen sein, den meisten Adressaten des Römerbriefs aber nicht. Man könnte ihn biographisch mit dem „Siehe, er betet“ im Bericht von der Lebenswende des Paulus Apg 9,10 in Verbindung bringen; über deren inneres Drama schweigt sich Paulus jedoch aus.13 Im weiteren Kontext der Paulusbriefe betrachtet liefert das Psalmzitat eine Begründung der für Paulus so charakteristischen Wortwahl euangélion, die im Deutschen gern und treffend mit „Frohe Botschaft“ übersetzt wird, weil das dem Gebrauch dieser Vokabel in der antiken Alltagssprache (auch in profanen Kontexten) entspricht.14 Luther hat diese „Klangfarbe“ des Wortes Evangelium in seiner Vorrede zum Neuen Testament von 1522 meisterhaft umschrieben.15 Julius Schniewind hat diese Freude ausdrücklich auf die „Rechtfertigung des Gottlosen“ zugespitzt: „Paulus, die Reformatoren, die Dichter des 30-jährigen Krieges wissen von Höllenängsten, in denen dennoch die Freude nicht versiegt, … die Freude der justificatio impii“.16

II. David als gefallener Glaubensheld Calvin schreibt in seiner Auslegung zu Röm 4,6–8: … es bleibt bei dem köstlichen Satz: der wird im Glauben gerechtfertigt, der durch die freigeschenkte Vergebung der Sünden vor Gott gereinigt ist. Es läßt sich daraus auch erkennen, daß die gnadenweise Gerechtigkeit das ganze Leben hindurch andauert. Denn David spricht, als er (im Ps 32), vom ständigen Nagen des Gewissens erschöpft, den Menschen selig nennt, dem die Sünde vergeben ist, ganz sicher von seiner eigenen Erfahrung. Damals aber hatte er Gott schon durch lange Jahre hindurch gedient! … Daß die Glaubensgerechtigkeit nur den Beginn ausmache und wir dann hernach als Gläubige nur durch

13 In 1 Tim 1,13–16 könnte auf die damalige Selbsterfahrung des Paulus angespielt sein; aber von wem? 14 Die beliebte Nachahmung dieser Wortbildung mit „Gute Nachricht“ ist daran gemessen viel zu blass. Vgl. Otto Betz, Art. euangélion, in ThBLNT, neubearbeitete Ausgabe (Witten: SCM Brockhaus, 20102) 432–442. 15 Vgl. u.a. Heinrich Bornkamm (Hg.), Martin Luthers Vorreden zur Bibel (Hamburg: Furche, 1967) 135–136. 16 In seiner Schrift „Die geistliche Erneuerung des Pfarrerstandes“ (1947), in Julius Schniewind, Geistliche Erneuerung (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1981) 123–147, hier S. 136 unten (zu These 9 am Ende).

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Werke die Gerechtigkeit in unserem Besitz hielten, die wir freilich ohne alles Verdienst erworben haben – das ist ein Fündlein, das in Ps 32 gründlich widerlegt wird.17

Diese biographische Deutung des Zitates wird nur von wenigen modernen Kommentaren geteilt,18 vielleicht weil ein expliziter Bezug auf die BatsebaGeschichte in Ps 51,2 vorliegt. Dass Bibelzitate im Neuen Testament oft aus dem Zusammenhang herausgerissen sind, lässt sich nicht bestreiten, kommt also auch hier in Frage.19 Aber verkürzte Zitate, bei denen die Fortsetzung mit bedacht werden soll, finden sich häufig in rabbinischer Bibelauslegung (wie man an den vielen Ergänzungen in Paul Billerbecks Quellenzitaten ablesen kann). Auch könnte man einwenden, dass von inneren Kämpfen, wie sie in Ps 32,3–5 geschildert werden, in 2 Sam 11–12 nicht die Rede ist. Aber wenn Natan den König erst nach der Geburt des unehelichen Kindes von Batseba und David zur Rede stellt, kann man sich monatelange Gewissensbisse vorstellen. Darum kann die Fortsetzung des Zitats in Ps 32,3–5 in Ichform signalisieren, dass die Seligpreisung in V. 1–2 das Fazit einer eigenen Erfahrung ist: Sie schließt ja mit „Du hast mir die Schuld vergeben“.20 Nicht umsonst wird der Psalm der Gattung der individuellen Danklieder zugerechnet.21 Beachtung verdient allerdings, dass auch in anderen Psalmen, die dem David zugeschrieben wurden, von den eigenen Sünden des Beters die Rede ist (vgl. Ps 25,7; 38,1–5.19; 41,5). Besonders bekannt ist der Aufruf an die eigene Seele in Ps 103,1–3: Lobe den Herrn, meine Seele, und alles in mir seinen heiligen Namen! Lobe den Herrn, meine Seele, und vergiss nicht, was er dir Gutes getan hat:

17 Vgl. Johannes Calvins Auslegung des Römerbriefes und der beiden Korintherbriefe, übersetzt und bearbeitet von Gertrud Graffmann, Hans Jakob Haarbeck und Otto Weber (Neukirchen Kreis Moers: Verlag der Buchhandlung des Erziehungsvereins, 1960) 89. 18 Vgl. Frédéric Godet, Kommentar zu dem Brief an die Römer, Deutsch bearbeitet von E. R. Wunderlich und K. Wunderlich (Hannover: Carl Meyer, 1892) 212: „Die folgenden Psalmworte sind der Anfang des Lobgesangs eines Sünders, nämlich von Psalm 32, welchen David wahrscheinlich verfaßt hat, als er die Vergebung Gottes nach seinen schweren Sünden erlangt hatte“. Leon Morris, The Epistle to the Romans (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans / Leicester: Inter-Varsity-Press, 1988) 198, Anm. 22: „David … gave occasion to men to blaspheme (2 Sam. 12:14)”. Helmut Lamparter, Das Buch der Psalmen I, Ps 1–72 (Stuttgart: Calwer Verlag, 19612) 162: „Ob der Psalm von David stammt oder ihm nur zugeschrieben wurde, läßt sich nicht mehr entscheiden. Jedenfalls fügt er sich in die Lebensgeschichte Davids trefflich ein (vgl. 2. Sam. 11 und 12)“. 19 Vgl. z.B. das Zitat von Jes 53,4 als „Weissagung“ der Krankenheilungen durch Jesus. 20 Die Schilderung des inneren Konflikts in diesen Versen hat allerdings keine narrative biblische Vorlage. Derartiges ist in den alten Erzählungen auch nicht zu erwarten. 21 So Hans-Joachim Kraus, Psalmen (BKAT XV,4; Neukirchen Kreis Moers: Neukirchener Verlag, 1958) 254 unter Berufung auf H. Gunkel/J. Begrich, EinlPs § 7,8. Darum heißt es S. 255 zu V. 3–5. „Die Erzählung vom persönlich erlebten Wunder der Vergebung hat den Charakter einer beispielhaften Demonstration, die das in 1 und 2 festgestellte Glück bezeugt“.

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der dir all deine Schuld vergibt und all deine Gebrechen heilt (EÜ).22

Dass Psalm 32 nicht konkretisiert, welche Sünden dem Beter vergeben wurden, verwundert nicht: Wenn Gott selbst diese aus dem Lebensregister des Beters gestrichen und „zugedeckt“ hat, dann müssen sie nicht durch dieses Gebet „veröffentlicht“ werden. Vor diesem Hintergrund versteht man auch, dass die Hebräische Bibel abgesehen von dem Bericht in 2 Sam 11–12 diesen dunklen Fleck in Davids Leben verschweigt. Wenn später in Sir 47,11(13) nach allerlei Glanzpunkten der Vita Davids nur gesagt wird: „Der Herr vergab ihm seine Sünden“, dann ist auch das ein Tribut an die Tilgung dieser Sünden in der Buchführung Gottes.

III. Bemerkungen zur biblischen David-Batseba-Erzählung23 Der aus heutiger Sicht „pikante“ Inhalt der in sprachlicher Hinsicht trockenen Erzählung lädt zu Ausmalungen und Ungenauigkeiten ein. Anzeichen für eine aktive Rolle der Batseba zu dieser Affäre liefert der Text nicht.24 Anderseits ist der Eindruck einer spontanen Kurzschlusshandlung Davids ebenso unbegründet. Fasziniert von Batsebas Schönheit holt er erst einmal Erkundigungen ein, ob es sich wirklich (wie er vermutet) um die Frau des Urija handelt (die ihm nicht ganz unbekannt zu sein scheint).25 Erst danach bestellt er sie in seinen Palast, und das Drama nimmt seinen Lauf.26 In 2 Sam 23,39 (par. 1 Chron 11,41) wird dieser Uria („der Hethiter“) als einer der 37 „Helden Davids“ erwähnt – an letzter Stelle der Liste. Eine Wohnung in Sichtweise des

22 Vgl. 10: „Er handelt an uns nicht nach unsern Sünden und vergilt uns nicht nach unsrer Schuld“. In Psalm 18 (par. 2 Sam 22), der einleitend in einen frühen Lebensabschnitt Davids datiert wird, fehlt dieses Sündenbewusstsein noch. 23 Besondere Beachtung verdient m.E. die Erörterung durch Walter Dietrich, Die frühe Königszeit in Israel. 10. Jahrhundert v. Chr. (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1997) 71–73. 24 Zu diesem Ergebnis kommt die sorgfältige Diskussion zahlreicher Details durch Moshe Garsiel, „The Story of David and Bathsheba: A Different Approach“, in CBQ 55 (1993) 244– 262. Er nennt Batseba “a tragic figure, involved without deliberate will in adultery and murder, and forced to marry in haste to escape the consequences” (254). 25 Von 1912 bis 2016 ließ die Lutherbibel den Namen der Frau erst durch andere herausfinden; die jüngste Revision korrigiert das exegetisch korrekt und zugleich Luther zuliebe. Ebenso wurde die Einheitsübersetzung korrigiert. Anders Walter Dietrich, David. Der Herrscher mit der Harfe (Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 2006) 251. Die Frage „Ist das nicht Batseba…?“ stellt jedoch eindeutig David selbst. 26 Das „er schlief bei ihr“ in der jüngsten Lutherbibel geht auch auf Luther zurück – aber gegen den Sinn des hebräischen Textes und gegen die heutige Umgangssprache (trotz des Begriffs „Beischlaf“); heute müsste es doch wohl heißen „er schlief mit ihr“.

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Palastes passt zu einem offenbar hoch verdienten Krieger.27 Zu diesen „Helden Davids“ gehört nach 2 Sam 23,34 auch Eliam: nach 2 Sam 11,3 der Vater der Batseba. Dessen Vater war nach 2 Sam 23,34 Ahitophel: nach 2 Sam 15,12 ein Berater Davids, der aber beim Aufstand Absaloms auf dessen Seite stand (vgl. 2 Sam 15,31) – aus Rache für Davids Umgang mit seiner Enkelin Batseba?28 Die Batseba-Affäre spielte sich offenbar in der „high society“ Jerusalems ab. Zu den vielen offenen Fragen, die der Text aufwirft,29 gesellt sich die Frage, welcher Verfasser mit welcher Absicht diese Vorgeschichte der späteren Thronfolge von David auf Salomo geschrieben hat. Wollte er auf den mit Gottes Hilfe unaufhaltsamen Aufstieg Davids einen Wendepunkt zu einem tragischen Abstieg dieses Helden und seiner Familie markieren? Verkündet Natan in 1 Sam 12,7–12 eine Revision seiner Weissagung über das „Haus Davids“ in 2 Sam 7, 8–16? Nach 1 Kön 11,1–13 verspielte auch Salomo durch eine Schwäche gegenüber Frauen das Wahrwerden der Natanverheißung aus 2 Sam 7 über das „Haus Davids“, was zur Spaltung des Reiches nach Salomos Tod führte. Wenig bekannt ist, dass Jesus nach Mt 1,6 (über Salomo) und auch nach Lk 3,31(im Lichte von 1 Chron 3,5) über einen Natan30 ein Nachkomme nicht nur Davids, sondern auch der Batseba war. Üblicherweise wird nur Rut als ein Sonderfall unter den Ahnfrauen Jesu beachtet, weil sie eine Moabiterin war.

27

Josephus (Ant. 7.131) bezeichnet ihn als den „Waffenträger“ Joabs. Vielleicht ist das im Sinne von „Adjutant“ zu verstehen, was seine Verwendung als Berichterstatter für David erklären könnte. Diese Angabe deckt sich mit der Lesart in 4QSama. Dazu vgl. Martin Abegg, Jr., Peter Flint, und Eugene Ulrich, The Dead Sea Scrolls Bible. The Oldest Known Bible Translated for the First Time into English (San Francisco: Harper, 1999) 213: „4QSama. … while showing many agreements with the Septuagint in contrast to the Masoretic text, is the type of Samuel manuscript that the author of Chronicles used in composing that book”. 214: „4QSama. dates from the middle of the first century BCE”. 28 In 2 Sam 17,2 bietet Ahitophel dem Absalom an, nach der erhofften Niederlage der Truppen Davids persönlich den König zu töten. 29 Vgl. W. Dietrich (s.o. Anm. 23) 71, Anm. 25: „Anscheinend wird die Schwangerschaft in V. 4 (Sie schickte sich gerade an, sich von ihrer Unreinheit zu reinigen) als überraschend hingestellt…“. Statt „schickte sich an“ übersetzt LÜ2017 übereinstimmend mit Wilhelm Gesenius, Hebräisches und aramäisches Handwörterbuch über das Alte Testament (Hg. Herbert Donner [Heidelberg: Springer, 201318]) 1152 „hatte sich gerade gereinigt von ihrer Unreinheit“. Die Handschrift 4QSama bietet die Angabe „gereinigt“ (ohne „von ihrer Unreinheit“) nach „kam zu ihm“ – was sinnvoller ist als die Wortfolge im masoretischen Text. Die Angabe bedeutet, dass Batseba die Regeln von Lev 15,19–30 beachtet hat. Die Septuaginta vertritt dagegen mit dem Part. Präsens hagiazoménē die Meinung, dass Batseba auch aus kultischen Gründen für David eigentlich tabu war. 30 Trotz einiger Varianten in der Schreibweise der Namen.

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IV. Akzente und Abstriche in der Rezeptionsgeschichte von 2 Sam 11–12 und Psalm 3231 IV.1 Jüdische Lesarten der David-Batseba-Geschichte IV.1.1 Flavius Josephus Im Unterschied zur Nacherzählung der Davidgeschichte im 2. Chronikbuch, die diese Episode auslässt, scheint Flavius Josephus keinen Grund gesehen zu haben, seinem nichtjüdischen Publikum diesen „Krimi“ vorzuenthalten.32 Einleitend betont er aber, dass David eigentlich ein braver (díkaios), frommer (theosebês) und gesetzestreuer Mann gewesen sei. Aber Batseba sei die schönste aller Frauen gewesen, weshalb David seine Gefühle für sie nicht beherrschen konnte (130). Die breit geschilderte zuletzt mörderische Aktion gegen ihren Gatten Urija führt Josephus darauf zurück, dass Batseba nach der Entdeckung ihrer Schwangerschaft mit einer Todesstrafe wegen des Ehebruchs rechnet und David um Schritte zur Vertuschung der Affäre bittet.33 Davids Versuch, das von ihm gezeugte Kind als ehelich gezeugt erscheinen zu lassen, scheitert bekanntlich an Urijas Ehrgefühl.34 Josephus verschweigt, dass nach Lev 20,10 und Dtn 22,22 auch David als aktiver Ehebrecher den Tod verdient hätte. IV.1.2 Rabbinische Kommentare Das antike Judentum hat David nicht nur als von Gott gesegneten Krieger und Herrscher verehrt, sondern ihm auch große religiöse Bedeutung beigemessen: als Initiator des ersten Tempelbaus, als Verfasser von Psalmen und sogar als Ausleger der Torah.35 Vor diesem Hintergrund ist es erklärlich, dass versucht wurde, die moralische Schuld Davids in der Batseba-Affäre abzuschwächen. In formaljuristischer Hinsicht wurde z.B. behauptet, dass Soldaten, die in einen Krieg ziehen mussten, ihren Ehefrauen einen Scheidebrief ausstellten.36

31

Eine anregende Sammlung von Rezeptionen der Batseba-Gestalt in Literatur, Kunst und Musik bis in unsere Tage bietet Sara M. Koenig, Bathsheba Survives (Columbia: The University of South Carolina Press, 2018; London: SCM Press, 20192 ). 32 Vgl. Ant. 7.130–146. 33 Ebd. 131. Von einer Gefahr für David ist dabei mit keinem Wort die Rede. 34 Seine Begründung gegenüber David verschleiert womöglich den wahren Grund: Nach Num 5,11–31 war eine verheiratete Frau, die mit einem fremden Mann geschlafen hatte, für ihren Ehemann „unrein“, d.h. tabu. Was dieser Bibeltext festschreibt, könnte sittliche Überzeugung oder sogar die Rechtslage zur Zeit Davids (oder der Abfassungszeit von 2 Sam) gewesen sein. 35 Vgl. Clemens Thoma, Art. „David II. Judentum“, in TRE (1981) 8.384–387, hier 385. 36 Vielleicht für den Fall, dass sie umkommen würden, ohne als gefallen gemeldet zu werden.

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Batsebas Ehe mit Urija wäre demnach quasi unterbrochen gewesen, als David mit ihr schlief.37 Wäre Batseba dann sexuell „vogelfrei“ gewesen? Ein absurder Gedanke! Dagegen spricht das mörderische Komplott gegen Uria (und die Angst der Batseba nach der Darstellung bei Josephus [s.o.]). In religiöser Hinsicht gelungener erscheint die Umdeutung der Episode in eine misslungene Versuchungsgeschichte mit übernatürlichen Dimensionen, deren Folgen David seinem Ehrgeiz zuzuschreiben hatte. In b. Sanh. 107a heißt es: R. Jehuda sagte im Namen Rabhs: Nie bringe sich ein Mensch in Versuchung, denn David, der König Jisraéls, brachte sich in die Versuchung und strauchelte. Er sprach nämlich vor ihm: Herr der Welt, weshalb sagt man: Der Gott Abrahams, der Gott Jiçhaqs und der Gott Jȃqobs, und nicht: der Gott Davids!? Er erwiderte: Jene wurden von mir erprobt, du aber nicht. Da sprach er: Prüfe mich und stelle mich auf die Probe etc. Er erwiderte: Ich will dich auf die Probe stellen, und zwar will ich mit dir noch ein Weiteres thun, denn jenen teilte ich es vorher nicht mit, dir aber teile ich es vorher mit…38

Justin der Märtyrer scheint diese rabbinische Haggadah zu kennen, wenn er in seinem Dialog mit dem Juden Tryphon 141 im Zusammenhang mit der Batseba-Affäre von der „einen Sünde Davids“ spricht, „in welche ihn sein Hochmut fallen ließ“.39 Allerdings wird an der Schwere von Davids Versagen festgehalten, sodass das Ausmaß der Vergebungsbereitschaft Gottes nicht geschmälert wird. Auf diese Haggada spielt auch Leonard Cohen in seinem berühmten Hallelujah-Song an mit der Zeile Your faith was strong, but you needed proof.

Nach b. Sanh. 107a soll bei diesem „Test“ auch der Satan mitgespielt haben, damit Davids Blick überhaupt auf Batseba fallen konnte – mit der Erlaubnis Gottes?40 Eine weitere Ausschmückung zugunsten Davids behauptet, dass Davids Ehe mit Batseba von Gott gewollt war, David aber nicht abgewartet habe, bis sie für ihn frei war: Rab trug vor: Es heißt: Denn ich bin des Sturzes gewärtig, und mein Schmerz ist stets vor mir. Bestimmt war Bath-Šebȃ, die Tochter Eliȃms, für David seit den sechs Schöpfungsta37

Vgl. Sara Koenig (s.o. Anm. 31) 32–33 unter Hinweis auf b. Ketub. 9b und b. Šabb.

56a. 38 Übersetzung nach Lazarus Goldschmidt, Der Babylonische Talmud mit Einschluss der vollständigen Mišnah (Haag: Martinus Nijoff, 1933) 7.475. 39 Vgl. Des heiligen Philosophen und Märtyrers Justinus Dialog mit dem Juden Tryphon, aus dem Griechischen übersetzt von Philipp Haeuser (Bibliothek der Kirchenväter 3; München: Kösel und Pustet, o.J.) 229. 40 Vgl. Hiob 1,9–12; 2,1–10. Die Erfindung dieses Details soll wohl besagen, dass die Versuchung (zur Sünde) nicht von Gott selbst ausgeht; vgl. Jak 1,13: „Keiner, der in Versuchung gerät, soll sagen: Ich werde von Gott in Versuchung geführt. Denn Gott lässt sich nicht zum Bösen versuchen, er führt aber auch selbst niemanden in Versuchung“ (EÜ).

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gen, nur gelangte sie zu ihm unter Schmerzen. Ebenso wurde auch in der Schule R. Jišmȃéls gelehrt: Bath-Šebȃ, die Tochter Eliȃms, war für David [von jeher] bestimmt, nur genoss er sie als unreife Frucht.41

Theologisch gewagter ist die Theorie, dass Gott den David vorherbestimmt habe als Musterfall für Buße und Vergebung, was vorheriges Sündigen notwendig machte.42 Für diese Deutung der Batseba-Affäre bot sich Ps 51 an, wo zu Anfang auf sie verwiesen wird. Dass Davids Erfahrung ein Lehrstück sein kann, geht dort v.a. aus V.15 hervor: „Ich will die Frevler deine Wege lehren, sodass die Sünder zu dir umkehren“.43 Auf den Auftragsmord an Uria gehen die rabbinischen Ausleger kaum ein.44 Ein Herunterspielen dieses Verbrechens geht so weit, dass gelegentlich behauptet wird, Uria habe ein Todesurteil verdient, weil er den Befehl Davids, bei seiner Ehefrau zu übernachten, missachtet habe.45 Damit wird ein absolutistisches Königtum in die Geschichte Israels hineingelesen, das bei jüdischen Lesern des 20. Jahrhunderts mit Recht auf Kritik stieß. IV.1.3 Moderne jüdische Rezeptionen 46 Während die antiken Ausleger sichtlich bemüht sind, das Fehlverhalten Davids abzuschwächen, blieb es wohl dem 20. Jahrhundert vorbehalten, eine jüdische Nacherzählung mit schroff gegenteiliger Tendenz hervorzubringen. In Stefan Heyms Roman „Der König David Bericht“ kommt David, nachdem er die Batseba beim Waschen gesehen hatte, verstört in eine Sitzung und gesteht ungeniert seine sexuelle Erregung. Seine Berater versichern ihm da41

Vgl. b. Sanh. 107a, Übersetzung nach Goldschmidt, a.a.O. S. 476. Vgl. b. ‘Abod. Zar. 5a. Mit der gleichen Logik wird in diesem Zusammenhang die Anbetung des goldenen Kalbes als inszenierter lehrreicher „Musterfall“ erklärt. − Dass Gott durchaus menschliches Versagen in seine Geschichtslenkung „einplanen“ kann, lehrt das Schlusswort der Josefsgeschichte in Gen 50,20 (was Josephus in Ant. 2,13 dahingehend verstärkt, dass Gott selbst dem Joseph einen Traum eingegeben habe, den dessen Brüder ihm nach Gen 37,5–11 übel nahmen). Auf dieser Linie wird im Neuen Testament auch das Schicksal Jesu gedeutet (vgl. u.a. Apg 4,24–28). 43 Mehrere Elemente der Haggadah über David und Bathseba sind enthalten in der weit verbreiteten Sammlung „Die Sagen der Juden“. Gesammelt und bearbeitet von Micha Josef bin Gorion (Lizenzausgabe Köln: Parkland Verlag, 1997) 1029–1030. 44 David Kimchi (um 1200 n.Chr.) deutete später den Plural „Sünden“ in Ps 51, 2.5 auf die beiden Verfehlungen gegen Bathseba und gegen Urija; vgl. Sara Koenig (s.o. Anm. 31) 29. 45 Vgl. Sara Koenig (s. o. Anm. 31) unter Hinweis auf b. Šabb. 56a mit der Bemerkung: „These rabbis seem to be grasping at straws to provide evidence that David did not wrong Uriah“. 46 Vgl. Annett Martini, Art. „Aggada“ in Das Wissenschaftliche Bibellexikon im Internet zum Begriff Aggada: „Die Aggada geht in erster Linie auf das palästinische Judentum aus der Zeit des Zweiten Tempels bis zum Ende der Talmudischen Periode zurück, zeugt aber auch weiterführende Ausläufer in der mittelalterlichen und neuzeitlichen Literatur…“ (https:// www.bibelwissenschaft.de/stichwort/12721). 42

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raufhin mehrheitlich, dass er als König alle Freiheiten habe, seinen Gefühlen nachzugeben.47 Auf die Nachricht von Batsebas Schwangerschaft hin glaubt David, dass sie das geplant habe.48 Den Gedanken, Uria kommen zu lassen, schreibt Heym dann allerdings dem Propheten Natan zu, und Batseba soll zudem an ihren Gatten einen sehnsuchtsvollen Brief geschrieben haben, den Urija mit gemischten Gefühlen aufgenommen habe.49 Den Gedanken, dass David sie heiraten könnte, bringt erst Batseba in einer Klage über ihr Schicksal als Witwe mit einem unehelichen Kind zur Sprache, worauf David widerwillig eingeht.50 Als dann Natan ihn im Namen Gottes wegen dieser Affäre zur Rede stellt, antwortet David nicht wie in 2 Sam 12,13 mit einem schlichten „Ich habe gesündigt gen den HERRN“, sondern mit den Worten: „Ich habe gesündigt wider den Herrn. Aber es ist zumeist Bath-shebas Schuld, ich weiß nicht wie und ich weiß nicht warum, ich bin wie Ton in den Händen dieses Weibes“.51 Nach Stefan Heym (ebd.) wird Natan erst auf dieses erheblich eingeschränkte Geständnis Davids hin vom Geist des Herrn zu dem Ausspruch bewogen: „So hat denn der Herr deine Sünde weggenommen von dir; du sollst nicht sterben“. Vergebung für ein Verbrechen „mit erhobener Hand“ sprengt die Konventionen eines modernen Romans – zum Glück nicht den Horizont der Bibel. Für die Behauptung einer Mitschuld der Bathseba gibt es keine Vorgaben in der Haggadah.52 Eine Betonung der Schwachheit Davids gegenüber der Schönheit der Batseba enthält auch das berühmte Hallelujah von Leonard Cohen. Wieder setzt der Sänger erhebliche Bibelkenntnis voraus, indem er eine Verquickung der Batseba-Geschichte mit der Erzählung über Simson und Delila aus Ri 16,4–22 herstellt: You saw her bathing on the roof 53 Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you She tied you to a kitchen chair She broke your throne54 and she cut your hair…

47 Vgl. Stefan Heym, Der König David Bericht (München: Kindler, 1972) 164. Der einzige Skrupel, der David zögern lässt, ist der, dass die Frau eines seiner Krieger für ihn tabu sein müsste. Eine rein politische (nämlich Monarchie-kritische) Rezeption der Batseba-Geschichte liefert auch die „graphic novel“ über Berlin in den 20er Jahren von Jason Lutes, Berlin, aus dem Amerikanischen von Heinrich Anders. Berlinerisch von Lutz Gӧllner (Hamburg: Carlsen Verlag, 2019) 350–351, in einer Diskussion über den Ex-Kaiser Wilhelm II., in der ein jüdischer Großvater mit Zitaten aus 2 Samuel 12 an Davids Verbrechen erinnert. 48 Ebd. 166. 49 Ebd. 167–168. 50 Ebd. 172. 51 Ebd. 174. 52 Vgl. Sara M. Koenig (s. o. Anm. 31) 39: „It is noteworthy that there is a relatively unified position on Bathsheba. Simply put, she is not blamed for seducing David“. 53 Nach dem Bibeltext müsste es eigentlich „from the roof“ heißen.

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In der nächsten Zeile greift Cohen – nach der oben erwähnten „Erprobungs“Haggadah – eine zweite rabbinische Anreicherung der Bathseba-Geschichte auf mit den Worten And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.55

In Jacob Hamburgers Real-Encyclopädie für Bibel und Talmud 56 wird sie unter Hinweis auf Midrasch Rabbah zu Numeri 8 mit den Worten zusammengefasst: „Vor der Sünde mit Bathseba rief David stets froh aus: ‚Der Ewige ist mein Licht und mein Heil!‘ aber nach der Sünde schwand von ihm dieses freudige Aufblicken zu Gott und die Ps. darauf sind voll des Schwermüthigen“. Dieser exegetische „Befund“ könnte als Beleg zu einer noch weiter gehenden These über die Folgen des Versagens gemeint sein: In b. Sanh. 107a vertritt R. Juda im Namen Rabs die Lehre, dass David nach dieser Untat von der Schechinah verlassen worden sei, d.h. die Gegenwart Gottes verloren habe (was an den Verlust des Charismas bei Simson erinnert).57 Leonard Cohens Beschäftigung mit der Batseba-Episode spiegelt sich auch in anderen Texten als dem Hallelujah-Song. Sein Book of Mercy58 enthält klare Anspielungen auf diese Erzählung in den Texten 7, 12 und 20 und darüber hinaus zahlreiche Aussagen über Sünde und Vergebung. Das letzte von ihm selbst noch vorbereitete Buch The Flame enthält einen langen Text aus seinem Notebook (10–30), in dem acht mehrzeilige Segmente mit „Like David“ beginnen und eindeutig auf die „darkness of his love“, seine Verzweiflung, seine Scham und seine Gebete Bezug nehmen.59

54

Eine Anspielung auf das Zerbrechen der davidischen Monarchie nach dem Tode Salomos (vgl. 1 Kön 12). 55 Die erste Strophe des Liedes handelte von der Komposition eines Halleluja. 56 Strelitz: Selbstverlag des Verfassers, 1884, S. 267. 57 Vgl. Sara M. Koenig (s. o. Anm. 31) S. 29. Außerdem soll der Sanhedrin (!) sich von David distanziert haben und David für sechs Monate von Aussatz befallen gewesen sein. Zu den Voraussetzungen dieser Annahme vgl. Karlheinz Müller, Art. „Sanhedrin / Synhedrium“ in TRE (1999) 30.32–42, hier 32: „… für das rabbinische Judentum (steht es) fest, daß das Synhedrium in Jerusalem kontinuierlich von der Zeit des Mose bis in die talmudische Periode hinein existierte“. 58 London: Cape, 1984, mit (schlechter) deutscher Übersetzung unter dem nichtssagenden Titel Wem sonst als dir (Herbstein: März-Verlag, 1985). 59 Vgl. Leonard Cohen, Die Flame / The Flame. Aus dem amerikanischen Englisch von Nora Bossong, Matthias Kniep, Nicolai Kobus, Simone Kornappel, Nadja Küchenmeister, Léonce W. Lupette, Christian Lux, Klaus Modick, Kerstin Preiwuß, Marcus Roloff, Ron Winkler und Katja Winter, Übersetzungsredaktion Christian Lux (Köln: Kiepenheuer & Witsch, 2018) 273–278. Die Übersetzung ins Deutsche entfernt sich oft unnötig vom Alltagsenglisch des Originals und verfehlt leider auch wiederholt den Sinn einer englischen Wendung.

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Eine Betonung der Schwachheit Davids sehe ich auch in der (wenig bekannten) Radierung von Marc Chagall zu dem Bibeltext Ps 32,1.2.5.7.60 Sie zeigt David mit Krone auf einem Sessel (Thron) sitzend, während Batseba (etwas verlegen?) nackt vor ihm steht und er vorsichtig die rechte Hand nach ihr ausstreckt. Man möchte sagen: Erst in diesem Moment wird David wirklich schwach, während er vorher nur aus der Nähe sehen wollte, wen er von weitem erspäht hatte. IV.2 Zu Ps 32,1–2 Mit einer biographischen und zugleich lehrhaften Bedeutung des Psalmzitats ist aus rabbinischer Sicht von vornherein zu rechnen: „ Jeden Abschnitt, den David im Buch der Psalmen gesagt hat, hat er mit Bezug auf sich selbst und mit Bezug auf ganz Israel gesagt“.61 Diese lehrhafte Bedeutung von Ps 32,1–2 wird von manchen rabbinischen Auslegern entschieden auf Israel begrenzt.62 Warum dieser Nachdruck? Es könnte eine stillschweigende Kritik an der universalen Bedeutung sein, auf die Paulus im Römerbrief Wert legt und die sich in der weiteren Kirchengeschichte durchgesetzt hat. Kenntnisse christlicher Spitzenthesen sind ja bei rabbinischen Lehrern vorauszusetzen63; diese werden aber so gut wie nie ausdrücklich korrigiert oder modifiziert.64 Die Begrenzung auf Israel ergab sich aber auch schon daraus, dass die Sündenvergebung mit dem Jerusalemer Kult in Verbindung gebracht wurde, insbesondere mit dem Jom Kippur, an dem mit dem aaronitischen Segen Sündenvergebung zugesprochen wurde.65 Vereinzelt wurde die Meinung vertreten, dass die Vergebungszusage an David erst nach der Errichtung des Tempels durch Salomo – also posthum – voll wirksam wurde.66 Ein Zuspruch der Vergebung unabhängig vom Gottesdienst in Jerusalem stieß nach Mk 2,7 // Lk 5,21 vielleicht aus diesem Grunde auf Widerspruch.67

60 Vgl. Marc Chagall / Klaus Meyer, Psalmen in Bildern (Würzburg: Echter, 1995) 35, nach: Psaumes de David. Eaux-Fortes Originales de Marc Chagall (Genève: Cramer, 1979) 35. 61 So Clemens Thoma, Art. „David II. Judentum“, in TRE (1981) 8.384–387, hier 385 unter Hinweis auf Midr. Pss. 24,3; vgl. b. Pesaḥ. 117a; b. Ber. 3a. 62 Vgl. Pesiq. Rab. 45 (185b). 63 Vgl. Peter Schäfer, Die Geburt des Judentums aus dem Geist des Christentums. Fünf Vorlesungen zur Entstehung des rabbinischen Judentums (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010). 64 Das gilt auch von anderen aus der Sicht der Weisen nicht akzeptablen Lehren. 65 Auf diesen Bezug wird in Kommentaren zu Röm 4,6–8 gern hingewiesen, z.T. in Verbindung mit einer Deutung von Röm 3,25 als Anspielung auf den Ritus am Jom Kippur. 66 Vgl. b. Mo‘ed Qaṭ. 9a; b. Šabb. 30a. 67 Vorsicht ist geboten, weil hier unausgesprochene Gedanken der Kritiker Jesu „zitiert“ werden.

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Außerdem wurde eine weitere Einschränkung vertreten: Ohne ein Sündenbekenntnis gilt der Zuspruch der Vergebung nicht.68 Diese Einschränkung ist ein Nebenprodukt der vorherrschenden Erhebung Davids zum Vorbild von Umkehr.69 Dass sie betont wird, könnte eine Antwort auf eine Unterstellung im Finale von Justins Dialog mit dem Juden Tryphon 141: Ihr jedoch … belügt euch über diese Worte (sc. Ps 32,1) und legt sie so aus: mögen sie auch Sünder sein, so rechnet doch der Herr, wenn sie nur Gott kennen, ihnen ihre Sünden nicht an.70

Wenn in der Auslegung von Ps 32,1–2 auch der Aufruf zur Reue betont wird,71 besteht die Gefahr, eine bestimmte emotionale Intensität zur Bedingung der Vergebung zu erheben.72 Eine derartige Innenschau lag den Rabbinen m.W. fern. Entscheidend ist das Geständnis oder besser: die Selbstanklage und der Appell an Gottes Barmherzigkeit.73

68 Einzelne Stimmen auf dieser Linie berühren sich mit Luthers Zweifeln an der Echtheit seiner Reue, die ihm den Trost der Absolution verdarben; vgl. u.a. WA 47.334 (nach Otto Scheel, Dokumente zu Luthers Entwicklung bis 1519 [Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 19292] Nr. 386). 69 Vgl. Jouette M. Bassler, „A Man for All Seasons. David in Rabbinic and New Testament Literature“, in Int 40 (1986) 156–169, hier 162: „David, the uniquely brilliant warrior and king, has not vanished entirely, but he is dominated in this material by David as Everyman, whose moral frailty is balanced by sincere remorse…“. 70 Vgl. oben Anm. 39. 71 Vgl. Midr. Pss. 32.2 in der Übersetzung von William G. Braude, The Midrash on Palms 1.403: „R. Jose ben R. Judah said: When a man’s repentance is so complete that his heart is torn within him, the Holy One, blessed be He, forgives him“. 72 Vgl. Martin Luther, These 30 seiner 95 Thesen von 1517: „Niemand ist dessen gewiß, daß er wahre Reue genug habe, viel weniger kann er gewiß sein, ob er vollkommende Vergebung der Sünden bekommen habe“. Vgl. ferner Sermo de poenitentia (1518) WA 1.319–324. 73 Leider geht John K. Stafford, „Paul’s Use of the Psalms. Beyond Midrash“, in Perichoresis 11,2 (2013) 211–220 nicht auf die Zitierung von Ps 32,1–2 in Röm 4,7–8 ein.

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V. Zurück zu Paulus Eine Steilvorlage für Paulus hätte es sein können, wenn die Rabbinen über das Kind nachgedacht hätten, das David mit Bathseba gezeugt hatte und dessen Tod zu den Schicksalsschlägen gehört, die David trotz der Vergebung hinnehmen musste (vgl. 2 Sam 12,11–14 und 15–23). Nach Davids eigenem spontanen Schuldspruch (2 Sam 12,5) und nach der Torah (Lev 20,10 und Dtn 22,22) hatte David mit seiner Untat selbst den Tod verdient. Wenn im Laufe der Zeit mehrere Söhne Davids eines gewaltsamen Todes starben (und David selbst damit „gestraft“ war), so trugen sie dabei selbst einen erheblichen Anteil an Schuld.74 Aber das Kind? Starb es stellvertretend für David? Paulus hätte eine Brücke schlagen können von diesem unschuldigen Kind Davids zu dem Sohn Davids, von dem das Evangelium des Paulus nach Röm 1,3–4 handelt und der „von keiner Sünde wusste“, aber „für uns zur Sünde gemacht wurde“ (2 Kor 5,21). Der Zuspruch der Vergebung für David (2 Sam 12,13) heilt das Verhältnis zwischen ihm und Gott, erspart ihm aber nicht schicksalhafte Folgen im Sinne des Zusammenhangs zwischen „Tun“ und „Ergehen“. Der in Röm 5,12–21 von Paulus hergestellte Zusammenhang zwischen Sünde und Sterblichkeit wird ja auch nicht aufgehoben, sondern erst durch das durch nichts verdiente Versprechen ewigen Lebens jenseits des Todes überwunden. Vergleicht man das Zitat aus Psalm 32 in Römer 4 und im Kontext des ganzen Briefes mit dem Tenor seiner jüdischen Wirkungsgeschichte, so könnte man überspitzt sagen: Für die Rabbinen sind die Sünden konkrete Unfälle, deren Folgen geheilt werden müssen; für Paulus dagegen ist Sündigen der UrFall, der sich in Menschenleben fortpflanzt und nach einer radikalen Behebung schreit. Diesen Wendepunkt sieht Paulus im Schicksal und Wirken Christi, das im individuellen Menschenleben Wendepunkte auslöst, wo das Evangelium Glauben weckt. Das erlaubt ein Lebensgefühl, das dem Glückwunsch für den begnadigten Sünder aus Psalm 32 entspricht: Das Geschenk des Friedens mit Gott und der Zugang zu seiner Gnade stiften nach Röm 5,1– 2 ein hoffnungsvolles Hochgefühl, weil „Christus für uns gestorben ist, als wir noch Sünder waren“ (V. 8), und damit Gottes Liebe zu uns verbürgt. Auch neues Versagen kann uns nicht von der Liebe Christi und Gottes scheiden (Röm 8,33–35.38–39).75 Diese Gewissheit macht aber nicht blind gegenüber den finsteren Mächten, von denen gerade auch das Leben der Glaubenden bedroht ist. Leidensbereitschaft kommt aber mit Siegesgewissheit zur 74

Vgl. 2 Sam 13 zu Amnon und 2 Sam 15–18 zu Absalom. Die rhetorische Frage in Röm 8,33a: „Wer will die Auserwählten Gottes beschuldigen?“ berührt sich mit der Haggadah in Pesiq. Rab. 45 (185b), nach der der Satan am Jom Kippur auftritt, um Israel zu verklagen, woraufhin Gott ihn überlistet. Als das dem David offenbart wird, lobt er Gott mit den Worten von Ps 32,1. 75

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Sprache.76 Das „broken Hallelujah“ Leonard Cohens bleibt hinter diesem paulinischen Pathos zurück, strahlt aber eine Zuversicht aus, die aus der Demut und Dankbarkeit Davids auf Grund seiner Gotteserfahrung gespeist ist.77 Es ist eine Zuversicht im Angesicht Gottes78: And even though it all went wrong I’ll stand before the Lord of song With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah.

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Vgl. V. 37: „In all diesen Erfahrungen bleiben wir überlegene Sieger“ (KH). Aufs Ganze gesehen ist das häufig wiederkehrende Stichwort „broken“ ohne ein Halleluja für Cohens Texte eher charakteristisch. Vgl. etwa seinen relativ späten Text You want it darker. Der letzte Text aus seinen Tagebüchern in dem Buch The Flame (s. o. Anm. 54) S. 346 sagt über ihn selbst: „Didn’t he live on an island in the Mediterranean sea with a mandate from God to enter the dark“. 78 Das geht aus den Worten hervor, die Cohen am 22. März 1985 in seinem Konzert in Warschau zu diesem Lied gesprochen hat: „I’ve just come here to sing you these songs that have been inspired by something that I hope is deeper and bigger than myself… I know that there is an eye that watches all of us. There is a judgment that weighs everything we do. And before this great force, which is greater than any government I stand in awe and I kneel in respect and it is to this great judgment that I dedicate this next song, ‚Halleluja‘“ (Warsaw 1985, transcription by Artur Jarosinski; www.leonardcohenfiles.com/warsaw-85-2.html). Nota bene die Vermeidung des Wortes G-d. 77

What Is Haggadic About Hebrews? Alan C. Mitchell I. Introduction Difficult to define concisely, haggadah comprises a wide variety of content and literary forms. “It includes narrative, legends, doctrines, admonitions to ethical conduct and good behavior, words of encouragement and comfort, and expressions of hope for future redemption.”1 Haggadah also embraces the interpretation of Scripture with the aim of drawing a deeper meaning from it through direct citation of a text or the juxtaposition of several texts, which shed light on each other. Haggadah is not only a narrative re-telling of Scripture, it is also a method of exegesis. As a New Testament book, Hebrews is not haggadah in the technical sense of the word. The author of Hebrews cannot be numbered among the Tannaim or the Amoraim, having lived before them. Neither can one claim that Hebrews contains texts that become part of later haggadoth. And so, if one seeks to discover what is haggadic about Hebrews, the answer must be sought in the way its author uses Scripture, often drawing out another meaning than the original in the texts he cites or rearranges. In addition to that, one can explore his exegetical method, which shows some familiarity with the Hellenistic Jewish interpretive methods of gezerah shawah and qal waḥomer found among the seven exegetical rules of Hillel.2

II. Hebrews as a Midrashic Homily Hartwig Thyen broke new ground in studying the genre of Hebrews, when he likened it to the form of the Hellenistic Jewish synagogue homily.3 Thyen’s sources for such a form were Philo’s commentary on Genesis, 1 Clement, 4 Maccabees, Stephen’s speech in Acts 7, Barnabas, Hermas and the Wisdom of Solomon. He found so many characteristics of the disapora synagogue homily 1

Dvora E.Weisberg et al., “Aggadah or Haggadah” in EncJud (2007) 1.454–464, quote 455. Cf. t. Sanh. 7.11. 3 Der Stil der jüdisch-hellenistischen Homilie (FRLANT 47; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1955). 2

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in Hebrews that he actually claimed Hebrews was “the only example of a completely preserved homily.”4 Those characteristics include homiletic language addressed to a community, the use of the LXX as Scripture, the use of rhetorical questions when introducing scriptural citations, and the use of paraenesis and exhortation. Some scholars received Thyen’s work well.5 Others, however, thought that his definition of the category of sermon or homily was too vague, and that it was not helpful in identifying the genre of Hebrews.6 Responding to the criticism of Thyen’s thesis as too vague, a fresh generation of scholars took up the challenge of defining Hebrews as a homily. Lawrence Wills, for example, published a comprehensive study of the text of Acts 13, in which he demonstrated the consistent features of an oral sermon that he labeled “a word of exhortation.”7 He drew a distinction between the vague category of synagogue homily and “word of exhortation,” in which he identified more specific formal elements. The characteristics of the genre are evident in Acts 13:16–41, where one finds a three-part structure consisting of exempla, conclusions drawn from the exempla applicable for the audience, and exhortation. Luke begins the word of exhortation with biblical examples drawn from Israel’s history, then he concludes that the examples show that the salvation promised to Israel’s ancestors is now extended to those Paul addresses in his word of exhortation. The exhortation ends with a warning drawn from Hab 1:5 that is not an exact reproduction of the LXX version.8 The word of exhortation repurposes Scripture for Paul’s listeners in a way that haggadists will do for later generations of Jews. Several commentators agree that as a word of exhortation (Heb 13:22), Hebrews can take the form of a synagogue homily.9 Not only does Gabriella Gelardini understand Hebrews as a synagogue homily, but she sees it as a particular kind of homily offered as part of the Palestinian Triennial Cycle, when the Torah was read continuously over three

4

Thyen, Der Stil 106. Cf. Herbert Braun, An die Hebräer (HNT 14; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1984) 1; Erich Grässer, “Der Hebräerbrief 1938–1963,” TRu 30 (1964) 138–236 (153); Albert Vanhoye, Homilie für haltbedürftige Christen: Struktur und Botschaft des Hebräerbriefes (Regensburg: Pustet, 1981) 11; and Otto Michel, Der Brief an die Hebräer (KEK 13; Göttingen: Vandenhoek & Ruprecht, 19966) 24. 6 Helmut Koester, Introduction to the New Testament, Volume 2: History and Literature of Early Christianity (New York/Berlin: de Gruyter, 1982) 273, and Karl Paul Donfried, The Setting of Second Clement in Early Christianity (NovTSup 38; Leiden: Brill, 1974) 26. 7 “The Form of the Sermon in Hellenistic Judaism and Early Christianity,” HTR 77 (1984) 277–299. 8 Wills, “Form of the Sermon” 278–279. 9 Harold W. Attridge, The Epistle to the Hebrews: A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1989) 14; William Lane, Hebrews (WBC; Dallas: Word, 1991) 1.lxxv; and Hans-Friedrich Weiss, Der Brief an die Hebräer (KEK 13; Göttingen: Vandenhoek & Ruprecht, 1991) 40. 5

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years.10 Her identification of Hebrews as a synagogue homily further provides a context for its delivery: a sabbath gathering. Naturally, her evidence for such a homily in that context comes from the Mishnah and the Babylonian Talmud, significantly later than the first century CE. Nevertheless, there are those who would acknowledge the problem but offset it by suggesting that later Mishnaic and talmudic traditions may have had their origins in Second Temple Judaism.11 Commentators have called attention to midrashic elements in Hebrews and have suggested that certain passages of the sermon are themselves midrashim. George Buchanan subscribed to a bold thesis that Hebrews 1–12 constituted a homiletic midrash on Psalm 110, thus joining the form of the homily to midrash itself.12 His classification has not been widely adopted by later commentators.13 Elke Tönges is so struck by midrashic elements in Hebrews that she understands the entire homily to be a “Jesus Midrash.”14 She lists seventeen authors who have identified entire chapters of the sermon or parts of chapters as forms of midrash. Collectively these authors have found midrash in almost every chapter of Hebrews save chapters 8 and 13 (Heb 1:1–2:18; 3:1–6; 3:7–12; 3:16–19; 4:1–11; 5:1–7:28; 9:1–28; 10:1–39; 11:8–19; 12:1–29). One distinction she draws, however, is that although the author of Hebrews employs a Jewish method of scriptural interpretation, his midrashic exposition distinguishes itself from Jewish midrash because it is christological.15 Tönges acknowledges that the biggest obstacles to her hypothesis are the lack of documentary evidence to support this kind of midrash within a synagogue worship service, and the lack of conformity of Hebrews to the later midrashic form of a homily. Consequently, her conclusion is tentative. If Hebrews is a Jesus midrash, it may possibly be a version of a homiletic form that originated in a first century Hellenistic-Jewish synagogue service.16 Tönges hypothesizes that the choice of the forty-four scriptural texts selected by the author of Hebrews locates the sermon at the boundary between Hebrew-Jewish and Hellenistic-Jewish milieux. To support her hypothesis Tönges suggests that Hebrews may know the three-part division of the Hebrew scriptures. The majority of the texts cited are taken from psalms with the 10

“Hebrews, an Ancient Synagogue Homily for Tisha be-Av: Its Function, Its Basis, Its Theological Interpretation,” in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods – New Insights, ed. Gabriella Gelardini (BINS 75; Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2005) 107–127. 11 Weisberg et al., “Aggadah or Haggadah” 1.454. 12 To the Hebrews (AB 36; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1972) xxi–xxii. 13 Paul Ellingworth, The Epistle to the Hebrews (NIGTC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1993) 61. 14 “The Epistle to the Hebrews as a ‘Jesus-Midrash’” in Hebrews: Contemporary Methods 89–105. 15 See Tönges, “Jesus Midrash” 91–92 for bibliography on these seventeen authors. 16 Tönges, “Jesus Midrash” 103–104.

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remainder being drawn from Torah, mostly Genesis and Deuteronomy, and three texts are taken from the prophets, with the longest citation of Jeremiah 31:31–34 (LXX: 38:31–34). Also, there are allusions to the additional texts in the LXX in Heb 1:3 (Wis 7:25–26; 11:25) and 11:25 (2 Macc 6–7 and 4 Macc 15:2, 8). Moreover, some of the texts are composites or compilations, a common occurrence in rabbinic literature.17 Further evidence for her hypothesis on the location of Hebrews somewhere between Hebrew-Judaism and Hellenistic-Judaism finds itself in formulas used to introduce scriptural citations that are similar to those found in the Mishnah. These formulae add authority to the texts cited as they are presented for the most part as the words of God and, in two instances, as the words of Jesus (Heb 2:12–13 and 10:5–7). The citations are attributed to various subjects, but in several instances, they are indefinite (2:6, “someone…somewhere”; 5:6, “somewhere”), similar to what one finds in the Mishnah and Philo.18 Finally, Tönges discusses the question of whether the midrashic elements of Hebrews that she sees aligning it with the Mishnah, Philo, and other rabbinic literature, are helpful for classifying Hebrews as a sermon or a homily. She lists the structural elements of midrashic and synagogue homilies as yelammedenu; petichta; semikhah; inyan; chatima. Not all of these structural elements can be found in Hebrews, but she does think two of them are, petichta, the introduction or proemium (1:1–5), and chatima (13:18–19), the concluding exhortation. Whether or not these two elements alone can constitute a midrashic or synagogue homily remains to be seen. She conjectures that Hebrews may be an early form of a homily, since the author refers to his work as a “word of exhortation” (13:22), which could be understood as a synagogue homily.19

III. Creative Interpretation of LXX Texts in Hebrews Whereas haggadah is a creative re-telling of biblical texts, understanding the haggadic character of Hebrews boils down to just how its author repurposes the LXX texts he uses in constructing the main argument of his sermon. There have been many studies on the use of Scripture in the sermon, far too many to

17

Idem, 93–95. Idem, 96–97. 19 Idem, 102–105. It is unlikely that Heb 1:1–5 would qualify as the proem of a synagogue homily because the proem normally begins with a scriptural text not taken from the main text for the homily, but from a remote text that the homilist will string together with the main text he preaches about. See Joseph Heinemann, “The Proem in the Aggadic Midrashim: A FormCritical Study,” in Joseph Heinemann and Dov Noy, eds., Studies in Aggadah and Folk Literature, ScrHier 22 (1971) 100–122, esp. 103. 18

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survey in one book chapter.20 One scholar who takes a new approach to the question is Susan Docherty.21 She applies to Hebrews the descriptive analytical method of interpretation of Alexander Samely, which depends heavily on linguistics and the function of speech in the Targums and the Mishnah.22 Docherty summarizes the chief characteristics and operations of Samely’s descriptive analytical approach: 1) The text under study, in this case, targum should be examined as a literary form rather than as an oral form. 2) Differences between the original Hebrew text and the Aramaic targum should be explained exegetically rather than ideologically or theologically. 3) The targum regularly changes the speech expression or the narrative setting of the Hebrew original. 4) The evaluation of the targum’s interpretation of the Hebrew original should be described by using key linguistic terms, for example, co-text rather than context, the former being linguistic and the latter non-linguistic. 5) Targums employ rules of targumic exegesis: a) They tend to “fill in” a speaker or an addressee more precisely than the original Hebrew. b) They tend to preserve words and sequences of the Hebrew original with relatively few words from the interpreter. c) They tend to link originally independent biblical texts. d) They tend to strengthen the connection between a speech expression and its immediate co-text in the original Hebrew text. 6) In the targumim, the semantic range of a word from the Hebrew original can be narrowed down or modified by creating a new co-text for it. 7) Placing biblical speech in a new setting can change the original meaning of it.23

Samely follows the same methodology in his study of the Mishnah, in which he examined every passage of the Mishnah that cites or alludes to a text of Scripture. He identified over one hundred interpretive procedures in the Mishnah that he grouped into “resource families.” Some of these he identified for the first time while others have been known to scholars of rabbinic literature, and some of those he renamed. For example, he calls an a fortiori comparison analogy. Another important interpretive procedure for him is “keying,” where the meaning of a word in one co-text can be determined by its meaning from its use in another scriptural text. The resource families of “topic” and “co-text” are especially important for understanding the interpretation of Scripture in the Mishnah. “Topic” takes into account the fact that the Mishnah thematizes the scriptural texts it cites or alludes to. “Co-text” refers to the fact that rabbis “segment” biblical texts by removing a sentence, a word, or a phrase from the 20

Radu Georghita, The Role of the Septuagint in Hebrews (WUNT 2.106; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003) 7–25, surveys fourteen major studies, grouped under three headings: Textual Approach, Hermeneutical Approach, and Rhetorical Approach. 21 The Use of the Old Testament in Hebrews (WUNT 2.260; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009). 22 The Interpretation of Speech in the Pentateuch Targums: A Study of Method and Presentation in Targumic Exegesis (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992); Alexander Samely, Rabbinic Interpretation of Scripture in the Mishnah (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000). 23 Due to lack of access to university libraries during the COVID–19 crisis, I have had to rely on Susan Docherty’s summary of Samely’s interpretive method regarding the targumim, which I trust as accurate (The Use of the Old Testament 107–108).

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text and placing them in a new location. Samely analyzes Mishnaic citations of biblical texts in a way that shows how they are intrinsically linked and can be used to explain other scriptural texts.24

IV. Docherty’s Analyses of Heb 1:5–13, 3:7–16 and 4:1–11 IV.1 Heb 1:5–13 IV.1.1 First Citation: Heb 1:5 For to which of the angels did God ever say, “You are my Son; today I have begotten you”?

The author of Hebrews has been faithful in citing the text of Ps 2:7 (LXX), for which there is no extant variant. Docherty calls attention to the change in the “co-text,” a standard feature of Jewish post-biblical exegesis according to Samely. Originally, the psalm recounts God’s promises to an Israelite king. At 2:4 there is a mention of “heaven,” which establishes the possibility of a “cotext” that allows for a heavenly setting for the divine speech. The new “cotext” in Hebrews, then, interprets the text as an occasion where God speaks the cited words of the psalm to Jesus, portrayed as a heavenly king, thus grounding Jesus’ pre-existent status and stressing his relationship with God.25 The psalm text is an example of first person direct speech, similar to many of the LXX texts cited by the author of Hebrews, showing his preference for selecting such texts in his repurposing of Scripture. The exegetical process also shows the “segmentation, mentioned above, in which rabbis “segment” a biblical text by removing it from its original “co-text” and placing it in a new “cotext.” This operation produces a text whose wording remains the same, but its meaning changes because of its new “co-text,” e.g. God speaking to Jesus in the heavenly realm.26 The cited psalm also exemplifies Samely’s category of “topic,” for the cited text is thematized in a new location, which means its original meaning has been narrowed in its new application. This phenomenon is characteristic of citations of poetic texts like those of the Psalms in rabbinic exegesis. The narrowing of meaning is evident in how the ambiguous pronouns in the source text are made definite in the new “co-text.” The second person pronouns now refer to Jesus and the first person ones to God. Son, whose original referent was an Israelite king, now refers to Jesus.

24

Samely, Rabbinic Interpretation of Scripture in the Mishnah. As indicated in n. 23, the summary of Samely’s work on the Mishnah is taken from Docherty’s own summary of it (The Use of the Old Testament 108–110). 25 Docherty, The Use of the Old Testament 144–145. 26 Idem, 146–147.

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In terms of “keying,” Samely’s term for placing heavy stress on particular words in the text, the key is “son,” enabling the Psalm to fit the author’s purpose. Samely’s interest in how key words are used in the targumim and the Mishnah stems from his understanding of the appreciation of the rabbinic preference for every word of Scripture as significant. This is also true for the word “today,” which will play an important role in the exegesis of Heb 3:7–4:13.27 The wider context of the citations, something attended to by the rabbis, here is a possible messianic interpretation for this text, seen in the fact that 1:8–9 picks up on this motif.28 IV.1.2 Second Citation: Heb 1:5b Or again, “I will be his Father, and he will be my Son”?

The second citation of the catena may be from 2 Sam 7:14 or 1 Chr 17:13, where the wording is the same. Again, the author follows the text faithfully. The rabbinic practice of citing two or more verses from different parts of Scripture is evident here. Unlike similar catenae of scripture texts such as 4QFlorilegium, 4QTestamonia, and 4QCatena, the author of Hebrews uses the text to construct his argument about the status of Jesus as God’s son. The first mention of the word “son” presents Jesus as God’s son (Heb 1:5a), the second one advances the special relationship Jesus has to God because of the added pronouns “his” and “my.”29 Heavy stressing (“keying”) also gives special weight to the words “father” and “son.” The linking of the first two citations on the basis of catchwords is a hermeneutical technique used in ancient Israel that suggest a strong coherence in the whole of Scripture.30 The wider context in Hebrews is a messianic one because 2 Sam 7:14 and 1Chr 17:13 are part of the Oracle of Nathan, through which God promised David that there will always be a king from the House of David to sit on the throne of Judah. These texts are also attested in early Jewish sources, where the wider context may not have been messianic.31 Because the messianic fulfillment of this promise was not something that Jewish interpreters could easily assert, the texts presented them with a challenge which the author of Hebrews did not face. And so he could posit the fulfillment of the texts in Jesus. Again, his text is another example of first person direct speech which can be easily segmented and placed in a new co-text. Its placement here can be read as a fulfillment of Heb 1:1, as Nathan could be numbered among the prophets

27

Idem, 148–149. Idem, 150–151. 29 Idem, 152. 30 Idem, 153. 31 Idem, 153. 28

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through whom God had spoken in the past, but who now speaks through a son.32 IV.1.3 Third Citation: Heb 1:6 And again, when he brings the firstborn into the world, he says, “Let all God’s angels worship him.”

The original text comes from Deut 32:34 (LXX), which contains the parallel phrases “sons of God” and “angels of God,” who are exhorted to praise and worship someone who is not explicitly identified except for the pronoun “him.” The exegetical technique frames the LXX citation with a co-text that narrows its meaning. Originally, it shows Moses exhorting the people to worship God, expressed by an ambiguous third person pronoun, “him.” The author of Hebrews then specifies the pronoun referring to the firstborn being brought into the world.33 Yet again the author of Hebrews has chosen a citation of first person direct speech from a poetic text, as Samely would say, a text that is especially suited to be taken out of its original co-text (segmented) and given a new one. In addition to that, the speaker has been changed from Moses to God. Docherty believes this text illustrates, as the others cited in the catena do, the hermeneutical operations which Samely has uncovered in the Pentateuchal targumim, where the exact wording of the Hebrew original has been retained, but its meaning has been transformed by changing the speaker and the addressee and by changing the setting of the text. Docherty rightly notes that commentators do not agree on what is being referred to in this text. Some say it is the incarnation of Jesus, his exaltation or his parousia. Docherty prefers the exaltation, and I agree with that reading.34 The key word in this text is “angels” which functions to say something further about the son, i.e., that he is exalted, which is why they worship him. The use of the word and the image of them as worshiping the son begin an extended reflection on the superiority of the son to angels, a critical part of the author’s argument.35 IV.1.4 Fourth Citation: Heb 1:7 Of the angels he says, “He makes his angels winds, and his servants flames of fire.”

32

Idem, 154. Idem, 156. 34 Alan C. Mitchell, Hebrews (SP 13; Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2007) 48. 35 Docherty, The Use of the Old Testament 158. 33

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This text from Ps103:4 may be based on a variant in the LXX, which is attested in one manuscript that agrees with the wording at the end of the text, “flames of fire.” The standard LXX text has “burning fire.” Again, the text is segmented from its original co-text, and its key words are angels, winds, and servants or ministers. The ambiguity of the Hebrew word “angels,” which can mean simply “messengers,” is removed in the Hebrews co-text, where it can only mean angels, given the larger function of the catena, comparing the son to angels. In the original text, the speaker is indeterminate, for if God were speaking, the first person singular pronoun would have been used instead of the third. Docherty says the words are meant to praise God. Based on the introduction to the previous citation, where God is speaking, Hebrews interprets God to be the speaker in 1:7. Therefore it is an illustration of Samely’s exegetical rule that placing the citation in a new co-text specifies an unknown or general speaker.36 IV.1.5 Fifth Citation: Heb 1:8–9 But of the Son he says, “Your throne, O God, is forever and ever, and the righteous scepter is the scepter of your kingdom. 9 You have loved righteousness and hated wickedness; therefore God, your God, has anointed you with the oil of gladness beyond your companions.”

The text mostly follows the LXX original of Ps 44:7–8 with minor changes for which there is no extant variant, and so the author of Hebrews appears to have adjusted the text for his own purpose.37 The text of Ps 44:7–8 (LXX) is another example of segmented, first person direct speech, which in its original co-text was a royal wedding song of praise, directed to an Israelite king. The new co-text in Hebrews transforms the song into the words of God to or about the son. The exegetical rule is, as we have seen in earlier citations, to name an unnamed speaker and to change the addressee. The ambiguity of the pronouns “your” and “you” is removed by making them refer to the son. But then the son is addressed as God, perhaps rendering the verses as a conversation between two divine beings.38 IV.1.6 Sixth Citation: Heb 1:10–12 And, “In the beginning, Lord, you founded the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands; 11 they will perish, but you remain; they will all wear out like clothing; 12 like a cloak you will roll them up, and like clothing they will be changed. But you are the same, and your years will never end.”

The author for the most part follows the LXX text of Ps 101:26–28 with some variation. Where the LXX has “you will change,” Hebrews has “you will roll 36

Idem, 160–161. Idem, 163; see 135. 38 Idem, 163–164. For another view see Mitchell, Hebrews 59. 37

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up” in Heb 1:12. There is support for a LXX variant, “you will roll up.” The author of Hebrews repeats “like clothing” in v. 12. In 11QPs4 “like a garment“ is repeated, showing a Hebrew text that supports the wording in Heb 1:12. Therefore, the author of Hebrews may have known a LXX version of the Psalm that repeated “like clothing.”39 This citation is another first person direct speech text being addressed to Jesus, with God as the speaker. The exegetical technique demonstrated throughout the catena repeats itself where an unknown speaker is identified and the addressee has also been changed. In the original, a human addresses God. In anticipation of the next citation from Ps 109:1, the term “lord” is applied to Jesus. This feature shows that the texts of the catena are interrelated and are integrated into the wider context in the sermon. In this instance, the reference to the creator, lord, looks back to Heb 1:2, “through whom he also created the worlds.” And so the text refers to the pre-existence of the son, who has had a part in the creation of the various realms that make up the cosmos. Thus it contributes to the argument of the catena that the son is superior to the angels.40 IV.1.7 Seventh Citation: Heb 1:13 But to which of the angels has he ever said, “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet”?

The final citation of the catena is an exact quotation of Ps 109:1 (LXX), with the exception that the phrase “The Lord said to my lord” has been omitted by the author of Hebrews. As with most of the citations in the catena, this one too exhibits first person direct speech rendering the citation as the words of God spoken to Jesus. The command to “Sit at my right hand” speaks to the wider context of the sermon, as it references an important characteristic of the work of Jesus in the estimation of the author of Hebrews, “When he had made purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs” (Heb 1:3–4). In a nutshell, these verses undergird the exegesis of the seven scriptural texts in the catena. Ps 109:1 then supplies the very reason for Jesus’ superiority to the angels, and its purpose is to supply the scriptural authority and veracity for the author’s claims about what distinguishes Jesus from the angels. Docherty also highlights Jesus’ messianic status as the author uses this royal psalm to draw out Jesus’ connection to the legacy of David. The inherent connection between the first (Ps 2:7) and last (Ps 109:1) citations in the catena solidifies that connection. Furthermore, the next psalm

39 40

Docherty, The Use of the Old Testament 136–137. Idem, 166–167; Attridge, Hebrews 60.

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text that the author cites after the catena is Ps 8:5–7 in Heb 2:6–8, which speaks of what is subjected under Jesus’ feet.41 The citation of Ps 109:1 is significant for the wider purpose of the author of Hebrews because other verses from the psalm will be cited (1:13; 5:6; 7:17; 7:21) or alluded to (1:3; 2:8; 7:11) in various places in the homily. This may be evidence in Hebrews for an exegetical technique that Samely studied in the Pentateuchal targumim and the Mishnah, where an interpreter would draw on other biblical texts in a given work as they explained a particular segment. From a linguistic point of view, contiguous texts are part of a larger conversation and are therefore relevant. According to Samely, Jewish interpreters found significance in placing other verses together with the primary text because they believed the entirety of Scripture was important for the work of interpretation.42 One cannot not but notice the inclusio that frames the entire catena by the twin questions, “To which of his angels did God ever say?” in 1:5 and “But to which of the angels has he ever said?” in 1:13.43 The wider context of the catena is the comparison between the son and the angels that the citations illustrate, like beads on chain, something similar to what one finds in rabbinic homilies.44 The midrashic form of the catena permits the author of Hebrews to repurpose the Scripture of the LXX so that his audience can actualize the meaning of those texts in their own lives.45 IV.2 Heb 3:7–11 7

Therefore, as the Holy Spirit says, “Today, if you hear his voice, 8 do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion, as on the day of testing in the wilderness, 9 where your ancestors put me to the test, though they had seen my works 10 for forty years. Therefore, I was angry with that generation, and I said, ‘They always go astray in their hearts, and they have not known my ways.’ 11 As in my anger I swore, ‘They will not enter my rest.’”

The fact that the author of Hebrews has segmented a larger section of the psalm text does not greatly alter the exegetical techniques from those used in the catena in 1:5–13. He cites the LXX Ps 94:7–11 mostly as it is found in the original text with two exceptions. The author of Hebrews modified the finite verb “put to the test” in v. 9 with a prepositional phrase, “by means of a test,” whereas the LXX has simply the finite verb. Also, the temporal phrase “for forty years” in the LXX refers to the time that God was angry with Israel, whereas in Hebrews it refers to the length of time that Israel tested God. Although there is evidence for a variant in the Lucianic and Bohairic recensions for placing “for

41

Docherty, The Use of the Old Testament 168–169. Idem, 169–170. 43 Idem, 168. 44 Heinemann, “The Proem” 101. 45 Mitchell, Hebrews 54–55. 42

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forty years” at the end of v. 9 instead of at the beginning of v. 10, Docherty sees the possibility that those recensions had been influenced by Hebrews.46 The psalm citation is first person direct speech, as were so many of the citations of the catena in Heb 1:5–13, showing the author’s preference for exegeting such psalm texts. The ascription of the speech to the Holy Spirit does not suggest that it is anyone other than God who is speaking. The second person plural verbs and pronoun in vv. 7–8 are originally addressed to the people of Israel, but in the co-text in Hebrews they address the recipients of the sermon, rendering the citation as a new co-text, where the identity of the addressees has been changed. Docherty disputes the claims of some scholars who have likened the Hebrew’s author’s interpretation of Ps 94:7–11 to that of the Qumran pesherim because the interpretation in Hebrews lacks important formal element of the pesharim.47 She rather sees the exegetical techniques isolated by Samely in his studies of the targumim and the Mishnah, where one finds the segmentation of poetic or psalm texts, with heavy stress on particular words, which in the new co-text specify the meaning the author intends his readers to draw from the interpretation. It is the co-text that interprets the biblical citation, so that his own words are kept to a minimum. And so, for example, the word “today” does not restrict itself to the moment in the original citation when Israel was being addressed by God, but rather has a more universal meaning of “everyday” (Heb 3:13) for the recipients of Hebrews. Similarly, “heart” in 3:8 is specified as an “evil, unbelieving heart” in 3:12, leading the author to conclude that the reason the wilderness generation did not enter into God’s rest was because of their unbelief (3:19). Therefore, the interpretation of Ps. 94:7–11 extends to the wider context of the author’s exhortation to his audience.48 IV.3 Heb 4:1–11 Therefore, while the promise of entering his rest is still open, let us take care that none of you should seem to have failed to reach it. 2 For indeed the good news came to us just as to them; but the message they heard did not benefit them, because they were not united by faith with those who listened. 3 For we who have believed enter that rest, just as God has said, “As in my anger I swore, ‘They shall not enter my rest,’” though his works were finished at the foundation of the world. 4 For in one place it speaks about the seventh day as follows, “And God rested on the seventh day from all his works.” 5 And again in this place it says, “They shall not enter my rest.” 6 Since therefore it remains open for some to enter it, and those who formerly received the good news failed to enter because of disobedience, 7 again he sets a certain day – “today” – saying through David much later, in the words already quoted, “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts.” 8 For if Joshua had given them rest, God would not speak later about another day. 9 So then, a sabbath rest still remains for the people of God; 10 for those who enter God’s rest also cease from their labors as God

46

Docherty, The Use of the Old Testament 137–138, 185–187. Idem, 187. 48 Ibid. 47

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did from his. 11 Let us therefore make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one may fall through such disobedience as theirs.

Susan Docherty’s final example of the author of Hebrews’ use of LXX texts in chapters 3 and 4 is found in the text of 4:1–11. The Pentateuchal text of Gen 2:2 is placed in Heb 4:4, “And God rested on the seventh day from all his works.” The key word “rest” is referenced throughout this passage, where the LXX text of Ps 94:11 is repeated at Heb 4:3 and 5. In repeating this oath that God swore, 4:1–11 is linked to 3:7–19 by virtue of the fact that the oath occurs in 3:11 and is restated in 3:19. The connections between chapters 3–4 are further strengthened by the citation of LXX Ps 94:7 at Heb 4:7.49 The citation of Gen 2:2 makes an important point about the meaning of the word “rest.” The word is ambiguous, as it could mean the rest promised to the wilderness generation, i.e., settling in the land of Canaan, or God’s rest after the creation of the heavens and the earth. The author of Hebrews employs the exegetical technique used with the other LXX texts he has cited by removing the ambiguity of the word. That only happens when the Gen 2:2 text is placed where it is in Heb 4:1–11, almost mid-point in the passage. The two identical citations from Ps 94:7, “They shall not enter into my rest,” in Heb 4:3 ad 4:5 frame the Gen 2:2 text and state clearly what “rest” is being spoken of. The pronoun “my” indicates that the author has God’s rest in view. The inclusion of another key word, “works,” specifies what God rested from, the work of creation. Thus, too, is the citation of Gen 2:2 linked to Psalm 44 which plays a significant interpretive role in Heb 4:1–11. At Ps 94:9 God says that the wilderness generation put God to the test despite having seen God’s work. Gen 2:2 and Psalm 44 are also linked by the word “rest” in each text, with a slight variation that the psalm uses the noun form and Genesis uses the verb form. Thus the techniques of linking disparate texts by means of catchwords, something favored by the rabbis, is prominent in chapters 3 and 4 of Hebrews.50 Docherty’s analysis of how the author of Hebrews repurposes LXX texts in his sermon in chapters 1, 3, and 4, shows consistent exegetical techniques, where he allows the texts themselves to make his desired interpretation without his having to comment extensively, in a way that is similar to rabbinic commentators. It is clear that in the majority of instances (1) he remains faithful to the text of the LXX; (2) he prefers first person direct speech; (3) he “fills in” the identity of the speaker and the identity of the addressee when that is indeterminate in the original text; (4) he is aware of the wider context of his source and target texts; (5) he segments his source texts and places them in new cotexts; (6) he believes in the truth and integrity of Scripture; and (7) he uses several important resource families to ensure the clarity of his interpretation. These exegetical techniques are similar to ones Alexander Samely discovered 49 50

Idem, 186. Idem, 188–189.

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in his study of the Pentateuchal targumim and the Mishnah. The use of them by the author of Hebrews, in part, contributes to answering the question, “What is haggadic about Hebrews?”

V. A Rabbinic Parable in Hebrews Albert Vanhoye published a critical note on Heb 6:7–8 in which he expanded on the interpretation of this text by Otto Michel.51 Michel noted the likeness of the comparison in these verses to the parables of the harvest in the Synoptic Gospels and the figurative language of the Old Testament.52 He restricted his attention, however, to Heb 6:7b concerning the ground which “gives birth to a crop.” Vanhoye saw another interpretation of these verses that he believed better accounted for the connection between Heb 6:7–8, 6:4–6 and 6:9–12. He was aided in discovering this fuller interpretation through an article by Raymond Pautrel on the canons of the rabbinic mashal.53 Among the different kinds of meshalim identified by Pautrel was one called “specimens with two branches,” which describes a simple subject in two different circumstances.54 Vanhoye provided the structured text of the rabbinic mashal along with the structured text of Heb 6:7–8. (A) “A king had a son; (B) when he did his father’s will (C) he dressed him in garments of wool (B’) when he did not do his father’s will (C’) he dressed him in garments of linen.”

Vanhoye explained the structure of the mashal as an example of a basic statement of fact (A) with two opposite behaviors: obedience (B) and disobedience (B’), and with two opposite outcomes: garments of wool (C) and garments of linen (C’). Vanhoye saw in this structure the same structure for Heb 6:7–8. (A) “Ground that drinks up the rain falling on it repeatedly, (B) and that produces a crop useful to those for whom it is cultivated, (C) receives a blessing from God. (B) But if it produces thorns and thistles, (C) it is worthless and on the verge of being cursed; its end is to be burned over.”55

51 “Heb 6:7–8 et le mashal rabbinique,” in The New Testament Age: Essays in Honor of Bo Reicke, ed. William C. Weinrich (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1984) 2.527–532. Eng. trans.: “Hebrews 6:7–8 and the Rabbinic Mashal,” in A Perfect Priest. Studies in the Letter to the Hebrews, ed. and trans. Nicholas J. Moore and Richard J. Ounsworth (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2018) 256–260. 52 Der Brief an die Hebräer (KEK 13; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 19605) 244. 53 Raymond Pautrel, “Les Canons du mashal rabbinique,” RSR 26 (1936) 5–45. 54 Vanhoye, “Hebrews 6:7–8 and the Rabbinic Mashal” 256. 55 Idem, 257.

What Is Haggadic About Hebrews?

407

Noting the difference in length of the Hebrews text from the original mashal, Vanhoye found that difference not to be significant because Pautrel also gave examples of longer meshalim. Neither did he see the settings of both meshalim as an obstacle, because Pautrel had examples of meshalim depicting agricultural settings like the text of Heb 6:7–8. He cited one in particular. (A) “A rich man had a vine; (B) when he saw that the wine was good, (C) he said: bring it to my house; (B’) when he saw that the wine was sour, (C’) he said: take it into your house.”56

Vanhoye concluded from the inclusion of the form of a rabbinic mashal that the author of Hebrews came out of an Hellenistic-Jewish milieu, and that the comparison of Hebrews to the meshalim gave a clearer understanding of the text of Hebrews. Important for Vanhoye was the double pronged structure of the actions and outcomes in the meshalim and in Hebrews. He noted that commentators generally gave a single interpretation of the text. Focusing on the relationship between Heb 6:4–6 and 7–8, they stress the negative aspect of the mashal because they saw 6:4–6 as a negative warning, speaking only of condemnation. His preference was to attend to the negative situation in 6:8 as relating to 6:4–6, but then to look at the positive (6:7b) as preparing the reader for what comes in 6:9–12 in order to render the text more richly. Therefore, the mashal plays a transitional role between a difficult text (6:4–6) and a hopeful one (6:7–8).57 Even though mashal is not a citation from the LXX as the other texts examined in this study, Vanhoye’s reading of Heb 6:4–12, nevertheless confirms the author’s Jewish-Hellenistic methods of exegesis. Meshalim are often used in post biblical Jewish texts, particularly midrashic ones, to help draw out the deeper meaning of biblical texts.58

VI. Conclusion The question, “What is haggadic about Hebrews?” did not seek an answer that could not be provided, i.e. what textual evidence does Hebrews offer to show that it is similar within its own narrations of LXX texts to later haggadah from the third to seventh centuries CE. Rather, the answer was sought in what exegetical techniques the author of Hebrews shared with post-biblical Jewish scriptural interpreters. Thus homiletic and midrashic approaches were the

56

Idem, 258. Idem, 258–259. 58 David Stern, Parables in Midrash: Narrative and Exegesis in Rabbinic Literature (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1994). 57

408

Alan C. Mitchell

starting point for answering the question. These methods and techniques of repurposing scriptural texts have been the object of previous studies on Hebrews, since as a “word of exhortation” (13:22) Hebrews does look like it is a synagogue homily of some sort, even if a defined genre of that type cannot be identified until a much later time. A more fruitful approach to answering the question came from the work of scholars who have sought to understand exactly how the author of Hebrews repurposed texts of the LXX to actualize them anew for his audience with regard to presenting a portrait of Jesus that could be seen as fulfilling the texts chosen by the author. In this regard, the work of Susan Docherty, applying linguistic and exegetical principles developed by Alexander Samely to texts in Hebrews, was especially helpful. Docherty broke new ground in using Samely’s work on the Pentateuchal targumim and the Mishnah by specifying more precisely how the author of Hebrews used Old Testament texts. She demonstrated effectively the author’s preference for poetic and psalm texts that took the form of first person direct speech, texts that were not necessarily clear in identifying the speaker and addressee of the words those texts conveyed. She also showed how the author of Hebrews created a new co-text for them, where the speaker was most often God and the addressee was Jesus, thereby creating a fulfillment motif that spoke more effectively to his audience. Her analyses also demonstrated that the author of Hebrews had an attitude towards Scripture that was shared by targumic, midrashic, and haggadic authors, who tried as best they could to be faithful to the original texts, and who showed that they understood the unity and integrity of all of Scripture, as well as its veracity. The segmentation of these texts in Hebrews was not unlike those of the rabbis, who were not afraid to bring disparate texts of Scripture together in order to bring about a mutual interpretation of a particular text. Finally, with the help of Albert Vanhoye, the initial question of this study received concrete evidence that the author was steeped in Hellenistic Jewish exegesis by examining the way he incorporated what looks very much like a rabbinic mashal into the text of Heb 6:4–12, in order to transition his audience’s attention from a text of severe warning to one of refreshing hopefulness, thereby creating both negative and positive possibilities for his readers to choose between. It is hoped, then, that the totality of what has been studied here has contributed in some small way to answering the question, “What is haggadic about Hebrews?”

Authors Harold W. Attridge Professor of New Testament, Yale Divinity School, New Haven, Connecticut, USA Roger David Aus Pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America and the Evangelische Kirche BerlinBrandenburg schlesische Oberlausitz, Berlin, Germany Alan J. Avery-Peck Professor in Judaic Studies, College of the Holy Cross, Worcester, Massachusetts, USA Michael Avioz Professor of Bible, Bar-Ilan University, Israel Bruce D. Chilton Professor of Religion, Bard College, Annandale-on-Hudson, New York, USA Christian Grappe Professor of New Testament, University of Strasbourg, France Klaus Haacker Professor of the New Testament and its Environment, Kirchliche Hochschule Wuppertal / Bethel, Germany Gudrun Holtz Professor of New Testament, University of Tübingen, Germany Tal Ilan Professor at the Institute for Jewish Studies of The Free University, Berlin, Germany Hermann Lichtenberger Professor of New Testament and Ancient Judaism, University of Tübingen, Germany Alan C. Mitchell Professor of New Testament and Christian Origins, Georgetown University, Washington D.C., USA Gerbern S. Oegema Professor of Biblical Studies, McGill University, Montreal, Quebec, Canada Daniel R. Schwartz Professor of Jewish History, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Israel

410

Authors

Anna Maria Schwemer Professor of New Testament, University of Tübingen, Germany Günter Stemberger Professor of Judaism, University of Vienna, Austria Lieve M. Teugels Professor of Semitics and Jewish Studies, Protestant Theological University, Amsterdam, The Netherlands Peter J. Tomson Professor of Biblical Studies, The Catholic University of Leuven, Belgium Arie W. Zwiep Professor of New Testament and Hermeneutics, The Free University of Amsterdam, The Netherlands

Index of Major Ancient Sources Hebrew Bible / Septuagint Genesis 13:5 15:6

360 360

Exodus 15:1

207

Leviticus 23:40

192–193

Numbers 23:7 23:18 24:3

204 204 204

Deuteronomy 32:14

1

Joshua 24:1 24:25–27

118 118

1 Kings 6:1

154

2 Kings 4:42–44 18:13–20:17 18:17 21:16

3 105 107 105

1 Chronicles 4:17

132

2 Chronicles 24:20–21 36:20–21

121 144

Nehemiah 3:15–16

108

Esther 5:1–3 8:16

276 279

Psalms 22:1 32:1–2 LXX 68:26 68:28 82:3–5 82:6 82:8 LXX 108:8 118:22–23 132:17

277 377, 389 321 210 302 297 304 321 222 256

Isaiah 6:9–10 7:3 8:6 9:1 12:3 19:1, 20 36–39 36:2 61:1–2

197 107 108 281 108 111 105 107 141

Jeremiah LXX 18:7, 9 23:6 LXX 26:15 LXX 50:7–9 LXX 51:29

112 305 111 109 111

Ezekiel 17:2 24:3 37:1, 9–10 37:11 40:1

204 204 51 117 147–148

412

Index of Major Ancient Sources

Daniel 12:2

51

40–41

Jubilees 1:11–12 3:8–12 4:1, 8, 10 7:1–2 8:12, 19 17:7 18:9

117 47 129 48 115 77 77

Joel 2:10

41

Amos 8:9–10 Zechariah 14:4–5

229–230

Letter of Aristeas 159

89

Sirach LXX 46:10 LXX 49:10 51:12–13

120 120 256–257

Lives of the Prophets Isaiah Jeremiah Ezekiel Hosea Zechariah

104–109 109–115 115–117 117–120 120–123

1 Maccabees 15:33–34

101

Sibylline Oracles 8.217–250

245

2 Maccabees 2:1, 13–15 2:4–8 2:4 7:9, 11, 14, 23

113 113 112 51

Slavonic Enoch 70–72

58

4 Maccabees 7:18 13:13

86 86

Apocrypha

Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs Ashur 7:6–7 117 Dead Sea Scrolls

Pseudepigrapha Ascension of Isaiah 3:3–10 3:13–20 5:1, 11 8:11 11:41

106 244 106, 117 106 117

1 Enoch 1:3–9 1:3–4 106:1–107:3

118 112 56

Fourth Ezra 11:46 12:34

331 331

1Q Genesis Apocryphon II, 1–25 II, 19–22 XII, 13–17 XIX, 14,19 XIX, 24–27 XX, 2 XX, 12–21 XX, 17–18:30–31 XX, 21–22 XXI, 8

57–58 44 49 61 131 62 63 50 64 360

The Damascus Document (CD) II, 15–21 52–53 III, 107 53 IV, 21 53 V, 2–6 53

413

Index of Major Ancient Sources 1Q Hodayot VIII X, 8–10 4Q161, Frag. 8–10, III 4Q174 4Q174, Frag. 1, II 21.2 4Q186, II,5–9 4Q186, III,3–6 4Q225, II ii.8 4Q225, II ii.9–10 4Q242, Frag. 1–4 4Q252, Frag. 1, II 2–3 4Q252, V 4Q265, Frag. 7, II 11–17 4Q285, Frag. 5 4Q364, Frag. 3, II 1–6 4Q365, Frag.6a, II 4Q385, Frag. 2, V–X 4Q385a, Frag. 18, I–II 4Q534, Frag. 1, I 1–11 4Q535, Frag. 3 4Q561, Frag. 1, I 1–5

196 328 259 323 259 60 60 81 88 54 49 260 47–48 260 46 46 50 51–52 59 60–61 60

Pseudo-Philo 1:1 9:13 11:15 23:1 25:2 27:16 32:1–2,4 32:1–2

129 29 32 118 101 101 77 81

Philo Abr. 1–6 167–208 262–265 268–276

70 67–94 364 364

Conf. 62–63

265–269

Contempl. 87–88

46

Dec. 64

83

Her. 90–93

363

Leg. 1.82 3.85–87 3.228–229

79 79 363

Mig. 43–52

362

Mos. 2.44

114

Mut. 1 131 186–192

79 79 364

Sacr. 21–27

323

Somn. 2.127

68

Spec. Leg. 2.155

40

Josephus Ant. 1.52–53 1.113 1.151 1.154–157 1.154–156 1.164 1.166–168 1.227 2.224 2.238–253 5.182–184 7.130–146 8.389 8.414 9.178

129 132 130 130–131 127–128 131 130–131 131 132 132 101 384 132 132 135

414

Index of Major Ancient Sources

10.1 10.25–27 10.27 10.36 10.38 10.100 10.103 10.106–107 10.145 10.181–182 11.5–6 11.6 12.10 13.74–79 16.179–183 17.149–167 18.29–30 18.116–119 19.343–353 20.97–99 20.167 20.169–172 20.169

142 135 142 142 105 135 136 127 153 155 142 152 118 118 97 122 346 38, 200 352–353 98 114 98 318

B.J. 1.648–654 2.221–263 2.259 3.352 5.70 7.163–177

122 98 114 145 318 38

C. Ap. 1.38 1.54

135 145

Vita 8–9

145

Rabbinic Sources

Yoma 6

36

Megillah 4:10

133, 136

Ḥagigah 1:8—3:6

193

Yebamot 4:13

177

Nedarim 4:3

7

Soṭah 4

178

Sanhedrin 4

9

ʼAbot 3:2 4:17 5:10–16

315 330 193

Tosefta Berakot 2:12 10:9

8 131

Sukkah 3:11–13

33

Ḥagigah 2:2–7 2:2–4

200 192

Yebamot 8:3

177

Ketubbot 5:1

189

Nedarim 4:3

190

Mishnah ʻErubin 4:3 4:8 Pesaḥim 10:8–9

319 189

346

415

Index of Major Ancient Sources Soṭah 7:9–10 7:9 7:21

190 22 9

Sanhedrin 7:7

9

ʻEduyyot 1:14

10

Zebaḥim 13:6

148

Moʻed Qaṭan 21a 25b 28b

21 40 21

Ḥagigah 3a 14a 15a–b

22 22, 24, 192 157

Yebamot 49b 56b 62a

105 177 129

Ketubbot 111a

248

Nedarim 65a

136

Soṭah 12a 26a

29 177

Qiddušin 30a

21

Baba Qamma 55a

190

Baba Meṣiʻa 59a–b

157

Babylonian Talmud Berakot 10a 31b 34b

23, 135 35 229

Šabbat 87a

23

Pesaḥim 54b

313

Yoma 9a 29a 38b 75a

148 274 23 1, 23, 42

Sukkah 28a 29a 53a

21 40 23

Baba Batra 9b 134a 145b

22 21 22

Taʻanit 16a 30a

21 21

Megillah 3a 14a 14b 17a 25a–b

313 273 150 140 133

Sanhedrin 29b 38b 67b 92b 97b–98a 103b 107a

131 24, 192 24 30 330 105 385

416

Index of Major Ancient Sources

ʻAbodah Zarah 5a

300, 386

ʻArakin 12a–b 17a 33a

145, 148 136 150

Niddah 69b 70b

22 22

Palestinian Talmud

Soṭah 4:1, 19c 4:5, 19d

178 177–178

Baba Meṣiʻa 2:13, 8d

14

Baba Batra 6:4, 15c

19

Sanhedrin 10:2, 28b 10:2, 28c

135 105

ʻAbodah Zarah 3:1, 42c

40

Horayot 3:5, 48c 3:8, 48c

190 15

11 209, 364–65 32 210 365–66 11 11 202, 313 226 208

Berakot 3:4, 6c 3:4, 22a 5:1, 9a 9:7, 14b

179–180 8 14 86

Peʼah 1:1, 15d 2:6, 17a

40 14–15

Maʻaśer Šeni 3:10, 51a

16

Šabbat 1:4, 3d

8

Šeqalim 5:1, 48c

190, 192

Mekilta de Rabbi Ishmael Beshallaḥ 1 Beshallaḥ 4 Beshallaḥ 5 Beshallaḥ 6 Beshallaḥ 7 Vayassaʻ 1 Vayassaʻ 5 Vayassaʻ 6 Baḥodesh 5 Baḥodesh 8

Taʻanit 2:2, 65b

16

Mekilta de Rabbi Šimʻon ben Yoḥai Exod 16:31 11

Megillah 4:1, 74d

40

Moʻed Qaṭan 3:5, 82d

8, 21

Ḥagigah 2:1, 77b 3:6, 79c

200 193

Yebamot 4:2, 5c

16

Sipre Numbers 95 112 Sipre Deuteronomy 48 49 177 306 317 342 344 348

33 12

10, 220 4, 12, 42, 191 131 10 1, 11, 191 38 9 11

417

Index of Major Ancient Sources 352 355

211 34

Midrash Rabbah Genesis 1/3 3/4 12/6 12/9 12/10 22/47 28/3 41/1 44/8 44/13 46/2 56/4 56/7 61/4 66/3 73/7 81/2

191 17 331–332 191 17 129 248 20 19 366 373 81 88 129 33 19 18

Exodus 1/20 3/12 15/26 18/12 21/6

29 366 40 346–347 32

Leviticus 10/5 15/2 16/4 18/3 19/6 28/2 30/9–12 31/1

130 20 18 19–20 135 212 193 18, 191

Deuteronomy 2/22

279

Ecclesiastes 1:9 § 1

38

Canticles 1:15 § 3

34

4:12 § 3

33

Lamentations Proem 24 1:1 § 1 1:16 § 51

131 41 26

ʼAbot de Rabbi Nathan A 1 40

129 193

ʼAbot de Rabbi Nathan B 45

190, 193

Pesiqta de Rab Kahana 15/3 27/9

41 193

Pesiqta Rabbati 4/3 26 33/7 44/7 45

106 136 323 323 391

Pirqe Rabbi Eliezer 21

129–130

Seder Eliyyahu Rabbah 16

135

Midrash Psalms 21/2 22/2–3, 15 22/13 22/15 78

305 279 278 282 132

Midrash Samuel 11

132

Tanḥuma Vayyera 23 Vayyera 42 Balak 16

131 131 129

Seder ʻOlam Rabbah 1 11

131 149

418 13 21 24 26 28 30 Semaḥot de Rabbi Ḥiyya 3:3

Index of Major Ancient Sources 35 131 148 155 148 148

258–259

Dura Europos Synagogue Ezekiel Panel

249

Targums

Targum Pseudo-Jonathan Gen 4:2,8 Gen 13:15 Gen 15:6 Exod 12:42 Exod 40:34–38 Num 35:34 Deut 31:15–18

132

1 Targum Esther 9:29

274

Targum Canticles 8:5

248

Targum Isaiah 4:2 4:5–6 66:1

261 315 106

Targum Jeremiah 23:5–6 33:15

261–262 262

Targum Ezekiel 29:21

262

Targum Zechariah 3:8 6:12 14:4, 9

263 263 234

Targum Psalms 18:5–6 116:3 132:17

328 326 264

224

Eighteen Prayer 15th Benediction

Targum Onqelos Gen 13:15 Gen 15:6 Num 35:34

Targum 2 Chronicles 18:33

360 361 315

129 361 361 345 315 315 315

New Testament Targum Neofiti 1 Gen 13:15 Gen 15:6 Gen 28:3 Gen 35:11 Gen 48:4 Exod 12:42 Num 35:34

361 361 356 356 356 345 315

Fragment Targum Gen 22:10 Exod 12:42 Exod 15:18

81 345 345

Targum 2 Samuel 22:5

328

Matthew 2:1–12 5:16 7:24–30 7:24–27 8:5–13 13:10–23 13:13–15 15:24 21:33–41 23:29–31 23:35 25:14–30 27:45–56 27:62–66 28:1–2

4 193 175–177 196 229 196 198 176 222 97 122 216–217, 229 233 238 235

419

Index of Major Ancient Sources Mark 1:14–15 1:14 4:2 4:10–20 4:10–12 4:34 6:14–29 11:27–33 15:25, 33–37 15:38 16:1–8 Luke 1:11 1:78–79 2:1–20 2:41–52 4:16–30 4:18–19 6:47–49 7:1–10 7:18–28 8:5–8 8:9–15 8:9–11 11:47–48 11:50–51 13:31–33 16:1–8 19:11–27 20:1–8 John 4:46–53 7:1–52 10:34–39 13–17 18:38 Acts 1:7 1:9 1:12 1:16–22 1:19 2:14–36 2:24 3:19–20

199 200 197 196 197 197 37–38, 200 200 39 41 33

123 251, 253 4 35 36–37 141 196 229 200 195 196 197–198 97 121–122 200 225 218, 229 200

229 108 297 38–39 29

312 314 317 321 322 323 324 329–330

3:21 5:36 21:38

332 98 98

Romans 4:7–8 4:9–12 7:2

377 372 189

1 Corinthians 10:4

33

Galatians 3:6–14 4:25

371 113

Hebrews 1:5 1:6 1:7 1:8–9 1:10–12 1:13 3:7–11 4:1–11 11:37 12:1

398–399 400 401 401 401–402 402 403–404 404–405 105, 115 105

James 2:23

367

2 Peter 1:19

284

Revelation 22:16

284

Early Christian Writings The Apocalypse of Peter 1:6

244

Barnabas 13:7

368

1 Clement 10:1

368

420

Index of Major Ancient Sources

The Gospel According to Peter 5:15—6:21 241 9:34—11:49 242 12:50—13:55 243 13:55–57 246

Jerome De viris illustribus 75

96

John Chrysostom Polycarp Phil. 1.2 Shepherd of Hermas 55 (V.2)

327

223

The Tripartite Tractate of Nag Hammadi 11.10, 18–34 245 Church Fathers Aphrahat Homily 22

247

Homilies on Acts 3

317

Justin Martyr Dialogue with Trypho 23.4 69.7 92.3 108.2 119.6 120.5 124.1 141

369 239 370 239 370 106 305 385

Epiphanius Melito of Sardis Adversus Haereses 26, 12, 1–4 Epistola Apostolorum 15

123

346–347

Historia Ecclesiastica 2, 23, 18 5, 1, 9 5,23–25

106, 109 123 346

Onomasticon 44.21–22

100

Praeparatio Evangelica IX 17:7 IX 27:23–25

65 337

235

Origen Contra Celsum 6.34

Eusebius

Theophania 4:22

Peri Paskha 5, 7, 32–33, 60, 67, 69, 71

106

Greek Authors Aelian De Natura Animalium 12.5

327

Apollodorus

221

Bibliotheca 2.7.7

315

Aristotle Rhetorica 1,9.1,28 1,9.32

76 73

421

Index of Major Ancient Sources 1,9.35 1,9.38–39 1,9.38

71 74 82

Demosthenes Orations III,3

313

Pseudo–Kallisthenes Historia 1,31,6 1,33,11

110 111

Vita 1,33,8 3,24,2–4

111 111

Dio Cassius Sophocles Epitome 69,14,2

109

Fragments 590

312

Euripedes Latin Authors Bacchae 443–450 576–619

337 338

Himerius Orationes 18.1

327

Lycophron Alexandra 1198

327

337 337 338

Numa 2.1–3

De Partitione Oratoria 74–75, 82 73, 75 78 82

72 73 86 73

Curtius Rufus

111 111

Ovid

337

Pliny the Elder 337 Natural History II.6 (36–37)

Plutarch Moralia Sera 4.549–550F

309

Metamorphoses III.695–700

Philostrate Life of Apollonius 8.30

De Oratore 3.55

Historia 4,8,6 10,10,20

Nonnos Dionysiaca 35.228–229 44.18–47 45.266–46.3

Cicero

283

Quintillian 312

315

Institutionis Oratoriae 4,1.5 4,2.31

79 75

422 4,2.56 5,10.16

Index of Major Ancient Sources 84 84

Seneca Ad Lucilium Epistolae Morales 81.19 88 Suetonius Caligula 27:3

105

Index of Modern Authors Ackerman, James Adams, Sean Adelman, Rachel Akagai, Kai Alexander, Loveday Alexander, Philip Allen, Wesley Allison, Jr., Dale Amir, Yehoshua Anderson, A. A. Anderson, Gary Anderson, Paul Arav, Rami Attridge, Harold

Avemarie, Friedrich Avery-Peck, Alan Avioz, Michael

298 308 67, 93 291 308 28, 93 344 28, 316 81 277 53 295, 303 36 289–306, 394, 402 308 VII–VIII, 1–5, 27–42, 68, 158, 201–202, 234– 235, 237, 249, 252–288, 295– 296, 301, 305, 309, 322 105 157–173 125–137

Bacher, Wilhelm Backhaus, Knut Barbi, Augusto Barnard, Leslie Barrera, Julio Barrett, Charles Bassler, Jouette Bauckham, Richard Bauernfeind, Otto Baumgarten, Joseph Beauchamp, Paul Becker, Hans-Jürgen Beckwith, Roger Beekes, Robert Behr, John

11, 67, 104, 189 294, 308 331–332 264 323 311, 313, 343 390 235, 244, 308 320 47, 152 291 287 152 325 303

Aune, David Aus, Roger

Ben Chorin, Schalom Berger, Klaus Bergman, Juda Bergsma, John Bernett, Monika Bertram, Georg Best, Ernest Betz, Otto Beutler, Johannes Bickermann, Elias Bietenhard, Hans Billerbeck, Paul (Str-B)

5 70, 72 140 141, 152, 155 122 324 244 380 289 152 309 202, 260, 310, 312–314, 331– 332 bin Gorion, Micha 386 Birdsong, Shelley 136 Black, Matthew 310 Blank, Josef 305 Blosser, Don 155 Bock, Darrell 318, 324–325, 327 Bӧrner-Klein, Dagmar 12–13 Boismard, Marie-Èmile 294, 301, 314 Bonneau, Norman 292 Bonsirven, Joseph 310 Bonz, Marianne 308 Borgen, Peder 80, 92, 295 Bornkamm, Heinrich 380 Boucher, Madeleine 214 Bouttier, Michel 350 Bovon, François 253 Bowker, John 323 Boyarin, Daniel 214, 295 Bradshaw, Jeffrey 249 Bratscher, Robert 324 Braun, François-Marie 295 Braun, Herbert 394 Brendsel, Daniel 303 Brettler, Marc 158, 213 Brock, Sebastian 99 Brooke, George 67 Bruce, Frederick 314

424

Index of Modern Authors

Brunner-Traut, Emma Buchanan, George Bultmann, Rudolf Burridge, Richard Buse, Ivor Buth, Randall Bynum, William Byrskog, Samuel

112 395 297 308 293 204, 223, 225 291 28

Cadbury, Henry Calvert-Koyzis, Nancy Carmignac, Jean Cathcart, Kevin Chagall, Marc Chanikuzhy, Jacob Charlesworth, James Charlier, Jean-Pierre Chilton, Bruce

Clark, E. G. Clark-Soles, Jaime Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Norman Collins, John Coloe, Mary Conzelmann, Hans Cook, Eduard Craigie, Peter Crawford, Sidnie Cross, Frank Crossan, John Czachesz, István

324 88 253 234 389 294 294 290 229–249, 295, 308, 310 343, 348–351, 355 292 304 388, 392 366 245, 261, 266 293 320, 349 130 277 93 261 28, 244–246 245

Daise, Michael Dalman, Gustaf Daly-Denton, Margaret Damgaard, Finn Daube, David Davies, W. D. DeConick, April Degg, Martin Deines, Roland de Jonge, Henk Delamarter, Steve Denaux, Adelbert Derrett, John de Vos, J. Cornelis

293 259 290–291 92 68 316 211 249 270 317 310 284, 309, 332 291–292, 296 118

Christopher, Dany

de Vries, Pieter 295 Dietrich, Walter 382–383 Dietzfelbinger, Christian 294 Di Lella, Alexander 256 Dillon, Richard 293 Dimant, Devorah 50, 99 Docherty, Susan 125, 397–405 Dodson, Derek 232 Dӧlger, Franz 252 Doering, Lutz 99, 109 Doeve, Jan 323 Donfried, Karl 394 Dormeyer, Detlev 70, 72, 89 Doubles, Malcolm 27 Dupont, Jacques 336, 343 Ego, Beate Ehrman, Bart Elbogen, Ismar Elgvin, Torleif Ellingworth, Paul Ellis, E. Earle Enz, Jacob Eppstein, Victor Epstein, Jacob Evans, Craig A.

99, 107 223 259 102, 113 395 323–324 292 232 189 197–199, 232, 290

Fabry, Heinz-Josef Falk, Daniel Farris, Stephen Faure, Patrick Feldman, Louis

326 44, 46 254 314, 327 72, 76, 79–80, 88, 126–129, 132–134, 137, 141 202, 213 8, 258 43 176 194 197–199, 320, 322–323, 331, 351 240 VII, 186–187, 195, 198–199, 202, 212 296

Fiebig, Paul Finkelstein, Louis Finsterbusch, Karin Fiorenza, Elisabeth Fischel, Henry Fitzmyer, Joseph

Flesher, Paul Flusser, David

Fӧrster, Hans

425

Index of Modern Authors Fossum, Jarl 295 Foster, Paul 241, 245–246 Fox, Marvin 26 Fraade, Steven 68, 78, 92 Fraenkel, Yona 20, 214, 228 Frankfurter, David 111 Freed, E. D. 289 Frey, Jӧrg 296 Frӧhlich, Ida 55 Froelich, Margaret 37 Frühwald-Kӧnig, Johannes 293 Füglister, Notker 342 Garrett, Susan Garsiel, Moshe Garte, Edna Gathercole, Simon Gaventa, Beverly Gawlick, Matthias Gelardini, Gabriella Genpf, Conrad Georghita, Radu Gerhardsson, Birgir Gerleman, Giles Gese, Hartmut Gill, David Gilmour, S. MacLean Ginzberg, Louis

Glasson, T. Francis Gleede, Benjamin Glicksman, Andrew Goan, Sean Godet, Frédéric Gӧrgemanns, Herwig Goldberg, Abraham Goldin, Judah Goldschmidt, Ernst Goldstein, Jonathan Goodman, Martin Gordon, Robert Gottlieb, Leeor Grässer, Erich Graetz, Michael Grappe, Christian Griffiths, David

349 382 249 254–255, 378 318 301 394–395 308 397 309 271 115 308 252–253 1, 3, 109, 126, 130, 132, 140, 144, 272, 283 301 97, 99 293 292 381 103 189, 203, 213– 214, 314 VII, 3, 34 194 249 373 234, 248, 263 132 394 318 234, 237, 335– 357 291

Groenewald, Alphonso 324 Grossfeld, Bernard 274 Grossman, Avraham 127 Gruen, Erich 307 Gruenwald, Ithamar 126 Guggenheimer, Heinrich 16 Gutmann, Joseph 96 Haacker, Klaus Hachlili, Rachel Haenchen, Ernst Hagner, Donald Hahn, Ferdinand Halevy, Elimelech Hambly, W. R. Hamburger, Jacob Hamilton, James Hanson, Anthony Hare, D. R. Harrington, Daniel Harstine, Stanley Hasan-Rokem, Galit Hayward, Charles Heinemann, Isaac Heinemann, Joseph Henderson, Timothy Hengel, Martin

Henshke, David Hermann, Klaus Herr, Moshe Herrmann, Siegfried Heym, Stefan Higger, Michael Hintermaier, Johann Hirshman, Marc Hirshman, Menahem Hogeterp, Albert Holladay, Carl Holtz, Gudrun Homan, Jacqueline Homcy, Stephen Horbury, William Horvitz, Rivka Hoskyns, Edwin

179, 375–392 249 325, 327, 335 316 329 277 292 388 291 289, 292–293, 298, 304 2 2, 32 301 126 295 3, 131 258, 396, 403 241 101–102, 104, 106, 114, 118, 122, 270, 294, 307 134 310 30, 135, 190, 271, 323–324 114 387 229 343 189 18, 125 284, 309, 332 30 67–94 249 299 111, 185 314 292

426

Index of Modern Authors

Hoskyns, Paul Huie-Joly, Mary Hultgren, Stephen Humann, Roger

294 293 3 289

Ilan, Tal i Tàrrech, Armand

155, 176–181 234

Jacobi, Christine Jacobs, Louis

3 274, 312, 318– 319 253 317 257 314 292 198, 212, 377 330 277 253 202, 214 212 298

Jacoby, Adolf Jȁger, Gottfried Jaffee, Martin Janowski, Bernd Jaubert, Annie Jeremias, Joachim Jervell, Jacob Jirku, Anton Johnson, Luke Johnston, Robert Jülicher, Adolf Jungkuntz, Richard Kaddari, Tamar Käsemann, Ernst Kagan, Thomas Kahana, Menahem Kalmin, Richard

125 378 2 11–12, 190 96, 105–107, 120–121, 123, 127, 157, 168 Kaylor, Robert 314 Keel, Othmar 101, 107 Keener, Craig 96, 307, 311, 316, 320, 324, 329–330 Kelhoffer, James 117 Kellermann, Ulrich 258 Kennedy, George 323 Kerr, Alan 293 Kimelman, Reuven 258 Kister, Menahem 190, 194 Klein, Hans 253 Klepper, Jochen 284 Klijn, Albertus 221 Knust, Jennifer 296 Koenig, Sara 384–388 Kӧstenberger, Andreas 289, 291 Koester, Helmut 394

Kohler, Kaufmann Kollmann, Bernd Kopp, Clemens Kraft, Robert Kranz, Jakob Kratz, Reinhard Kraus, Hans-Joachim Kraus, Wolfgang Kremen, Jacob Kretschmar, Georg Kreuzer, Siegfried Kubiś, Adam Küchler, Max Kugel, James Kuhn, Peter Kunath, Friedericke Kundert, Lukas Kurz, William Kvasnica, Brian Lacamara, Aelred Lake, Kirsopp Lamparter, Helmut Lane, William Lange, Armin Lanier, Gregory Lapham, Fred Lapin, Hayim Larkin, Katrina Le Déaut, Roger Lee, Dorothy Legrand, Thierry Lehrman, S. Lerner, Myron

258 2, 207, 212– 213, 225 36 133 30 337, 339, 344 277, 381 289–290 331 317 377 291 97, 101, 107– 108 128–129, 132 41 303 70, 81 292 223, 225

292 324 381 394 43 252, 254 242 130 230 296, 342, 345 302 61 32 128, 189, 194, 224 Levine, Amy 158, 175, 213 Lichtenberger, Hermann 43–65 Lieu, Judith 294 Lifshitz, Berachyahu 15, 25 Lightfoot, John 310 Lightfoot, Joseph 320 Lincoln, Andrew 305 Loader, William 303 Loeb, Isidore 153 Lohfink, Gerhard 332 Lohse, Eduard 312, 347 Loisy, Alfred 28, 349

427

Index of Modern Authors Longenecker, Richard Lüdemann, Gerd Luomanen, Petri Luz, Ulrich Luzaragga, Jesus MacDonald, Dennis Maciá, Lorena Mack, Burton MacRae, George Malbon, Elisabeth Malina, Bruce Mandel, Paul Manning, Gary Manns, Frédéric Marcus, Joel Marcus, Ralph Marguerat, Daniel

324, 377 322 221 348 314

308 132 72 332 176 295 8 293 295, 321 119, 197, 199 143 320, 333, 335– 336, 342, 349– 351, 355–357 Markschies, Christoph 95, 123 Marmorstein, Arthur 256 Maronde, Christopher 302 Martin, Francis 310 Martini, Annett 386 Mason, Steve 70, 72, 139 Mateos, Juan 325 McArthur, H. K. 202 McNamara, Martin 295 McWhirther, Jocelyn 294 Meeks, Wayne 301 Menken, Maarten 289–293 Meyers, Carol and Eric 230 Michaels, J. Ramsey 290 Michel, Otto 394, 406 Mihailios, Stefanios 293 Milikowsky, Chaim 130–131, 140– 141, 143, 152, 155 Miller, Paul 292 Miller, Richard 28 Mitchell, Alan 393–408 Mittmann-Richert, Ulrike 98–99, 121– 122, 284 Moeller, Henry 293 Mollatt, Donatien 296 Montanari, Franco 311 Montefiore, Claude 310 Moon, Warren 249

Moore, Carey 271–272, 283 Moore, George 229, 370 Morray-Jones, Christopher 192, 197, 199 Morris, Leon 381 Moscovitz, Leib 126 Moss, Charlene 231–232 Mownley, Henry 292 Moyise, Steve 292 Müller, C. Detlef 344 Müller, Karlheinz 388 Muñoz-León, Domingo 294–295 Myers, Alicia 294 Nebe, Gerhard Netzer, Ehud Neusner, Jacob Neyrey, Jerome Nickelsburg, George Niehoff, Maren

Nikolsky, Ronit Noam, Vered Nock, Arthur Noormann, Rolf Norelli, Enrico North, Robert Notley, R. Steven

62 97 1, 12, 168, 247 292, 296, 305 1–2, 55, 58, 256 69, 72, 74, 76, 88, 101–102, 104, 265 209 137, 155 372 88 106 141 204

Obermann, Andreas Oegema, Gerbern Oepke, Albrecht Oliver, Isaac

294 359–374 314 320, 333

Pagels, Elaine Painter, John Palmer, David Pancaro, Severino Pantrel, Raymond Pao, David Parsenios, George Parsons, Mikael Peláez, Jésus Penner, Tod Pennington, Jonathan Peregrini, Silvia Pérès, Jacques-Noël Perkins, Pheme

292 292 308 301 406 331 306 318 325 245 332 123 344 302

428 Pervo, Richard

Index of Modern Authors

Pesch, Rudolf Peterson, David Petuchowski, Jacob Phillips, Thomas Pierce, Madison Piper, Ronald Pitts, Andrew Plümacher, Eckard Popkes, Edzard Porter, Stanley Porton, Gary Powell, Mark

307, 329, 332, 349 311, 332 318, 343 312 37 304 217, 221 308 307 314 292 309 236

Quarles, Charles

28

Radl, Walter

329, 343, 350– 351 293 81, 132 314 127, 129, 131, 144 202 278 289 235 294 136 341, 349 295 308 232 308 36 197, 199, 295, 313 157 368

Rahner, Johanna Rajak, Tessa Ramsey, A. M. Rappaport, Salomo Reed, Annette Reeg, Gottfried Reim, Günter Richardson, Cyril Richter, Georg Robker, Jonathan Roloff, Jürgen Ronning, John Rosner, Brian Roth, Cecil Rothschild, Claire Rousseau, John Rowland, Christopher Rubenstein, Jeffrey Rüpke, Jӧrg Sabourin, Leopold Sänger, Dieter Safrai, Shmuel Safrai, Ze’ev Samely, Alexander Sandmel, Samuel Satran, David

314 301 89, 194, 204 194 397–398 76 96–97, 100, 103, 109

Schäfer, Peter

14, 24, 104, 200, 239, 389 Schalit, Abraham 134, 141–142, 144, 153, 155 Schenk, Gottlob 376 Schlatter, Adolf 252 Schlier, Heinrich 254, 270 Schmithals, Walter 335 Schnackenburg, Rudolph 291, 302–303 Schneckenburger, Matthias 317 Schneiders, Sandra 294 Schnelle, Udo 73, 310 Schniewind, Julius 380 Scholtissek, Klaus 304 Schreiber, Stefan 312 Schuchard, Bruce 289, 294 Schürer, Emil 317 Schwartz, Daniel 139–155 Schwartz, Joshua 184 Schwarz, Günther 322 Schweitzer, Albert 186 Schweizer, Eduard 331 Schwemer, Anna 95–124, 307 Scott, Martin 293 Seeman, Chris 143 Segal, Alan 268 Serra, A. M. 295 Setzer, Claudia 243, 309 Shuler, Philip 72 Simkovitch, Malka 373 Simon-Shoshan, Moshe 177 Skehan, Patrick 256 Sleeman, Matthew 332 Smith, D. Moody 289 Smith, Robert 292 Snodgrass, Klyne 205, 217–219, 290 Sokoloff, Michael 7 Sperber, Daniel 17 Speyer, Wolfgang 106 Spilsbury, Paul 143 Stafford, John 390 Standaert, Benoit 343 Stemberger, Günter 1, 7–26, 68, 104, 130, 135, 206, 226, 257, 323, 377 Sterling, Gregory 92, 292, 308

429

Index of Modern Authors Stern, David

203, 208, 212, 214, 407 Stichele, Caroline 245 Stӧkl Ben Ezra, Daniel 43, 50, 65 Strathmann, Hermann 30 Strobel, August 342–343, 347 Strom, Mark 351 Strong, Justin 214 Swancutt, Diana 290 Swete, H. B. 242, 247 Teugels, Lieve Theobald, Michael Thoma, Clemens Thompson, Maryanne Thyen, Hartwig Tigchelaar, Eibert Tӧnges, Elke Tomson, Peter Tov, Emanuel Tripp, Jeffrey Trudinger, L. Paul Tuckett, Christopher Tuval, Michael

201–228 291, 377 213, 384, 389 293 108, 393–394 230 395–396 183–200, 202 44, 46 306 301 291 144

Uelinger, Christoph Um, Stephen Unterman, Alan Urbach, Ephraim Uytanlet, Samson

107 294 314 314 311

van der Horst, Pieter van der Vaal, Cornelius van der Watt, Jan VanderKam, James van Goudoever, Jan Vanhoye, Albert van Kooten, George van Unnik, Willem Vaňuš, Marek Vawter, Bruce Vermes, Geza

98, 307, 312 289 302 141, 312 342 394, 406–407 292 307 314 293 130, 134, 229, 321 Vielhauer, Philipp 253 Vilnay, Zev 36 von der Osten-Sacken, Peter 29, 284, 287 Wacholder, Ben Wald, Stephen

154 310

Wall, Robert 349 Wasserman, Tommy 296 Weaver, John 335, 344 Weinrich, Otto 337–339 Weisberg, Dvora 25, 393, 395 Weiser, Alfons 312, 341 Weiss, Hans-Friedrich 394 Werman, Cana 48 Wettstein, Johann 307 Whealey, Alice 221 White, Sidney 44 Wiesenberg, Ernest 152–152 Wilcox, Max 310–311, 324 Willet, Michael 293 Willets, Joel 302 Williams, Catrin 291 Wills, Lawrence 394 Wimpfheimer, Barry 25 Winslow, Karen 133 Winsor, Ann 293 Winter, Bruce 307 Winter, Paul 253 Wintermute, O. S. 2 Wischnitzer-Bernstein, Rachel 249 Witherington III, Ben 308, 323 Witmer, Stephen 294 Wolter, Michael 37, 120–121, 284, 333 Wright, Benjamin 80 Yee, Gale Young, Franklin

293 291

Zahavy, Tzvee Ziegler, Joseph Zimmermann, Ruben Zunz, Leopold Zwiep, Arie

279 278 212, 302 30 307–333

Subject Index Abraham – In Philo’s De Abrahamo 67–94 – in Josephus 130–131 – in rabbinic Judaism 364–367 – in the early church 367–370 – in Acts 1–3 307–333 Acts 12:1–19 335–357 – the literary genre of marvelous liberation from prison 337–341 – haggadic illumination of Acts 12 341–355 Babylonian Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 157–173 – exegetical material 161–162 – supplementary material 162–166 – synthetic material 166–168 creative historiography 3–4 David as a fallen hero of faith 380–390 Dura Europos Synagogue 249 earthquake, the last 229–249 – Zechariah 14 230 – Matt 27:45–56 233–235 – Matt 28:1–2 235–238 – Matt 27:62–66 238–240 – the Gospel of Peter 241–247 – Ezekiel 37 248–249 – the Dura Europos Synagogue 249 Esther as the hind of the dawn and redemption 275–284 haggadah – definition 1, 7, 125, 359, 393 – in Tannaitic literature 7–13 – in the Yerushalmi and classical midrashim 13–20 – in the Babylonian Talmud 21–25 – late developments 25–26 – experts 189–192

– historicity in haggadic texts 27–42 – haggadic interpretation of Abraham’s faith in Gen 15:6 360–370 imaginative dramatization 3–4 the Jerusalem Talmud 175–181 – on a raped woman 177–178 – on Rabbi Yehudah ha-Nasi’s female slave 179–180 Josephus and haggadah 125–137 – Cain and Abel 129–130 – Abraham 130–131 – identifying unnamed characters 131–132 – Moses 132–133 – omissions 133–134 – oral or written sources 134–137 – chronology according to Sabbatical and Jubilee periods 139–155 – haggadic interest in biblical chronology 139–140 – Abraham Schalit on Jubilee-based chronology 141–145, 151–155 – the Talmudic dating of the destruction of the first and second Temples 145– 151 – death of Herod Agrippa 352–353 parables – definition 214–215 – four kinds of soil 183–200 – four kinds of 192–196 – Luke 8:5–8 195 – the kingdom of God 196–200 – the master and the overseer 216–228 – Matt 21:33–41 222–223 – Shepherd of Hermas 55 223–224 – Semaḥot deRabbi Ḥiyya 224 – Luke 16:1–8 225–226

Subject Index Philo – De Abrahamo as a biographical encomium 69–74 – the sacrifice of Isaac 74–92 – relationship to the genre of “Rewritten Bible” 92–94 – interpretation of Gen 15:6 362–364 – interpretation of Zech 6:12 as messianic in Conf. 62–63 265–270 Psalm 82:6 and John 10:34 297–306 Qumran haggadic texts 43–65 – additions in the manuscripts of the Pentateuch 46 – foundation for halakhah 47–49 – in the prophets 50–52 – in the history of Israel 52–55 – in the Genesis Apocryphon 55–65 “sprout” as the Messiah 251–270 – Ben Sirach 256–257 – the Eighteen Prayer 258–259 – the Dead Sea Scrolls 259–261 – rabbinic texts 261–264 – Philo, Conf. 62–63 265–270 the Syro-Phoenician woman of Mark 7:24–30 175–181 truth (religious) in haggadic texts 27–42 the Vitae Prophetarum 95–124 – date and origin 96–102 – literary form 102–103 – narrative material as early haggadic traditions 103–123 – life of Isaac 104–109 – life of Jeremiah 109–115 – life of Ezekiel 115–117 – life of Hosea 117–120 – life of Zechariah 120–123

431